Photography: (from the Greek) writing with light
I'm going to take you back in time. Hope you're okay with that. This is not going to be boring, but you have to hang with me closely. It's spring of 2007. My teacher just finished announcing that he will be requiring all of his students to complete a science project by the end of the year. He will allow us to partner up in groups of twos and threes. A couple of my girlfriends from school latch together, and I wheedle into the group as humble master-mind of the project. For our science project, we bounce around a few ideas, but the greatest idea of all sticks.
We're going to build a camera. At first, I thought - my but this will be a challenge! But I pictured myself rising to the occasion, and with the help of my ingenious partners, we would order all of the parts and piece together an awesome digital camera for all to be impressed by. (I should tell you now that each of us in turn were mechanically challenged by nature) My teacher seemed amused, and suggested the 'Pinhole Camera' as a better alternative. The words fell like sweet music on young ears. I had never heard of 'making a camera' out of a 'paint can, or oatmeal canister', and then developing the film into a negative. The whole idea sounded horribly unique, but - why not at least research the idea? We soon learned it was a simple enough process - one learned by patience, experience, and a good sense of humor.
We cleaned up a paint can, and that was our camera body. In my friends basement, one of us spray painted the can with flat black paint. That dried nicely. On the side opposite the lid of the can, my buddies drilled a quarter sized hole. My difficult job was to cut out a square from an aluminum pie-plate and pierce the middle through with a good-sized needle. That pie-plate hole was our 'pinhole'. We taped that pie plate behind the quarter size hole. In front of the hole, we taped black construction paper on with black duct tape. Ta-da! We were so proud of our camera!
The hard part came when we set up our 'dark room'. We used a back stairway in our school for our light-proof room. Our 'red light' was the EXIT sign that was above the door. We set up four pans for the developing process (which I'll explain later), and laid down garbage bags to protect the carpet. The only expense in the process was in buying 'Ilford RC Film Paper', and ’Developer’ and ‘Fixer'. The 'Ilford RC Film Paper' was taped inside the lid (opposite our pinhole) while we were in the dark room. It was very important that the film not be exposed to light until we were ready to take our picture. I should add, that we (the official amateurs) became 'friends' with a photo-shop man named Dirk, who walked us through much of our problems over the phone.
This is the paragraph where I explain why the film works. The film is made up of tiny light-sensitive particles, that creates a chemical record of the pattern of light when exposed to a real image. When light hit’s the film, it undergoes a chemical reaction. The spots that were hit by the sun, are made darker when they are developed. Developing this white film paper in a dark room, turns the film into a negative.
All right, so we had it all set up. The biggest question was 'will it work?'. We didn't expect much, because after all - it was just a paint can. But we thought it would be cool if we could prove all of our hard work to our friends with an actual print. Just one good picture. That was all we wanted. Our first picture was a close up of a flower.
That was our first mistake. Pinhole pictures are best taken of distant landscape, like a barn or a house. We also HELD the camera while we waited for the 30 seconds exposure time to be fulfilled. That was our second mistake. Humans naturally shake when they're trying to hold something perfectly still for 30 seconds. A pinhole camera needs to be carefully set on a stand, and the picture needs to be taken with your back facing away from the sun.
(this is not a pinhole pic. It was taken with my awesome KODAK digital) When we barricaded ourselves in the dark room and developed that first picture (4 easy steps), we were distinctly disappointed to see little blots. Then, my friend started screaming with excitement. "I see a flower! I see a flower! See - those are the seeds... or the petals!" We all looked closer, analyzing the shapeless blobs. I said, "It looks like the fork I used to move it around left some dots. See?" We all had different opinions of what it was - but, clearly, it was nothing impressive - especially since we all had to interpret it. A picture should be clear and the details distinct.
Our disappointment only mounted through the following desperate attempts, and we soon learned that the dark room was the perfect place for heated conversations and misunderstandings. It wasn't until Dirk told me, "You guys are using a stand, right? A stand to put your camera on? Because it will not work without a still image and a still camera." I stumbled in answering that one, and decided that we would try to take a picture one last time. We must have looked an odd three-some, down by the road menacingly pointing a paint can on a stand at the world.
We went inside and shut the dark-room door firmly behind us. On the door was a note-book-paper sign with large lettering. 'Developing in process. Do not disturb - under any circumstances!' We were very serious about our developing process. There was nothing more annoying than a promising picture ruined by the opening of a door by a smiling curious peer.
Our eyes piercing through the dim red EXIT light, and our noses dulled by chemical fumes, we ran the picture through the Photographic development process.
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Recipe for Developing
A dark room with red light
4 13x9 Pyrex Pans
(2 min.) In pan #1: ½ cup developer and one cup water
Actually a reducing agent, the developer changes silver ions into silver metal. The grains of particles on the film that have latent-image sites will develop more rapidly than the other particles.
(30 sec.) In pan #2: water
Here the water stops the developing process.
(2 min.) In pan #3: 1 cup fixer and 2 cups water
The fixer dissolves the silver-halide crystals and leaves only the silver metal behind.
(5 min.) In pan #4: water
All the chemical products are washed off, and the picture is ready to be dried.
Get a clothespin, and a hanger, and hang out your print to dry.
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Even in the darkness, it was clear we had our first good picture. Our victorious screaming was 
unanimous. We could not believe the details that a paint can and a back stairway had produced!
After that successful print, we became very secretive toward our inquisitive peers, and enthusiastically threw ourselves into taking more pictures. Our excitement had been revived by success, and I must tell you, there was nothing more satisfying than watching the film develop before our eyes in our very own homemade studio!
We even posed for a picture and had a hapless friend 'open the shutter flap' (which was nothing more than a piece of black construction paper) and hold perfectly still for 30 seconds exposure time.
It was very difficult to hold our smiles still, and during the entire picture I hissed, "Don't laugh. Don't move. Don't breathe."
Later, I developed the negatives we had created into 'positives'. This I did through a great little shop called ArtsCameras Plus. (http://www.artscameras.com/) They sent two of those pictures off and called me when they were done.
Over time, the pinhole camera became a dusty memory underneath my bed, along with our smudged prints. The upgraded paint can was very unhappy down there, I was certain, because when I pulled it out one summer day, it seemed to cling to me. I decided independantly to go purchase more chemicals on my own, and then take pictures of my own.
I clothed my bathroom window in black garbage bags, blocking out all light (my dark room). I took a flashlight and covered taped a scrap of red tissue paper on top of it (that became my red light). After purchasing liquid chemicals, I was ready. I dedicated a whole day to running in and out of my house, clutching a paint can and aiming it at curious objects. This kind of operation was repeated several times throughout the following seasons, but even such well-planned sessions were not without their failures.
That brings me to today. Yay! Today is a good day. The sun is shining (albeit making the snow sparkle), and I'm writing in my blog!
When I decided that Pinhole Pictures was to be the topic of my next article, I set about researching the matter thoroughly (google! yay!). I figured that while I'm at it, I might as well answer a few remaining key questions people have about photography.
Why are people in old black and white pictures never smiling? Where did our modern-day photography begin?
I'm sure you can guess the answer to the first question. When my friends and I smiled in our picture, we had to hold our smiles perfectly still for 30 seconds (difficult). Even then, our smiles created shadows and altogether blotted our mouths out on the prints. That was unanticipated. Another thing to consider, is that in the 1700-1800s, orthodontists were a thing of the future. It's possible that people were not all that proud of having their crooked teeth photographed.
In answer to the second question, I deliver up at your feet my fascinating research on this intriguing subject of ours. Indeed, I promise you will learn something new today.
For those of you Chinese reading this, you’ll be interested to know that your ancestors (of 5th century B.C.) were the first people to write about the use of the Pinhole camera, when an upside down image was exposed on a wall from a pinhole that was on the opposite wall.
Aristotle (4th century B.C.) wanted to know why "when light shines through a rectangular peep-hole, it appears circular in the form of a cone?" He obviously dealt with the pinhole image formation in his work.
The Pinhole Camera (camera obscura) was used in the 1500s by artists like Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci to help them draw pictures. Outside the dark room a persons’ or objects’ image was reflected on a piece of paper. The artist would then trace the image.
In 1724, Johann Heinrich Schultz discovered that a silver and chalk mixture darkens when it is exposed to light, but still didn’t know how to make lasting pictures with that knowledge.
The year 1826 dawned brightly when a French scientist, Joseph Nicephore Niepce, put a plate coated with an ancient form of asphalt (bitumen) in a pinhole camera. With the camera pointed at his house for eight hours he created a photograph!
This phenomenon was expounded on by Louis J.M. Daguerre, who developed the ‘daguerreotype’ method of taking a negative image, where the mirrored surface of the metal plate reflects the image and makes it appear positive in the proper light. People were amazed to see the Degeuerreotype studios, and declared their images to be “mirrors with a memory”.
The Calotype, also known as 'Talbotype', offered a more sensitive medium through its use of the latent image phenomenon. This refined process of photogenic drawing was invented by Fox Talbot in September 1840.
In the 1900s, Kodak came out with the ‘Brownie Camera’. This pinhole camera was sold to children for just $1. The name of the Brownie Camera came from the cartoon’s of Palmer Cox. His Brownie characters of 1880 were like the children-adored Walt Disney characters of today. Kids were encouraged to join the Brownie Camera Club, win prizes, and participate in the pure enjoyment of capturing a special memory. The Brownie Camera was a chance for everybody to involved in the wonders of photography. You can find those camera’s all over eBay now.
Now, you might ask - why would it take 60 seconds for a picture to be taken? Is that why people didn’t smile in pictures back then?
Think of it this way. With the Polaroid Land Camera, it took 60 seconds for the sun to expose the film to a real image and dye the light-sensitive chemical particles of the film into a negative.
Try to hold a smile perfectly for 60 seconds. You can’t move an inch, or relax your face at all, or the print will turn out fuzzy. But compare this with camera’s before that time - which involved hours of exposure time. The Calotype took anywhere from 10 sec-60 sec. In contrast, daguerreotype needed 25 minutes exposure time; a large improvement from the original 8 hours it had taken.
You can create a Pinhole camera by getting a box that lets no light in except for a tiny hole on one end. Then place film or photographic paper on the other end.
Another: http://www.kodak.com/global/en/consumer/education/lessonPlans/pinholeCamera/
Today, we’ve arrived at a different world of cameras. Obviously, in this grand 21st century of ours, it is no sweat to come by a decent digital camera for $100, and it’s amazing how many children barely know how to write, but can easily operate a Kodak camera. For the folks who don’t care to buy a digital camera, most have camera’s built into their cell phones anyway. So pinhole camera’s have become pretty unnecessary. But not everyone has forgotten the pinhole camera. In fact, many teachers involve their students in making pinhole cameras and taking pinhole pictures for science projects to teach them the simple fundamentals of how photography works . For others, pinhole pictures are considered an art, a hobby, or a relaxing and enjoyable past-time.
Thankfully for us, the Pinhole Camera process is one of the simplest forms of photography. I took advantage of that, and now I understand a bit better how photography has evolved into the Kodak camera I hold in my hand today.
Naturally, the cup of intrigue I sipped from long ago, I now pass to you.
The following pictures are of a few negatives shot around my house. I looked through the pinhole in my paint can and sized up the image I would be shooting (adjusting a music stand and weight props to the right position). Then I went into my dark room, taped a crudely cut piece of film under the lid, and firmly hammered the lid shut. With my thumb holding the black construction flap over the hole, I placed the camera on the stand and pointed it the correct direction. The time of day does matter, because I had to make sure my back was to the sun when I shot pictures. The flap was opened, the clock was watched carefully for the second 30 seconds was over. During the frigid winter weather, when I had helpless family members pose, they declared that it was the longest 30 seconds of their lives. Indeed, the clock hand did freeze during a couple shoots.
Regardless, the following prints are the results of those sessions. Look at them carefully. They are negatives, so you should understand that everything is mirrored, and all things naturally white (like sunlight and sky) show up as black (shadow and black). It has been a fun challenge for many of my friends to tell me exactly what the images are. The details are fairly good, but the natural human eye is challenged beyond the natural state of what it expects.
So, the cup is passed to you: What exactly do you see?
PICTURE #1(what season is it? what is the central object?)
PICTURE #2(why do the objects look like they're on fire?)
PICTURE #3
(what season is it? is the man in the door way standing or sitting?)
PICTURE #4
Pinning the sky in place, a brilliance of red-white-and-blue is on the bridge above where I exit to get to work. Since my car takes the ramp that circles in a U around it, every morning and afternoon I see it from various angles, blending with beautiful every-day shades of sun. I can envision the tattered edges of that old American flag even now. The wind curls it into a crescent shape, and then spreads it smooth as silk along the line of the sky. Seeing it in the tired hours of the morning makes my heart swell and feel stronger somehow. When I feel like I am only one - working towards an endless cause as one meaningless bolt in the clock-work of America - one eye on that flag makes me want to stand straighter and work harder. I feel a part of something. I feel proud.
