Monday, October 06, 2025

Digital Zone System ~ Panasonic Lumix S9 in-camera B&W jpg generation

I had ever more good fortune to be able to borrow for another 20 minutes a brand new Panasonic Lumix S9.  

I'm surprised at how nice the camera is.  I'd be really happy to own one.  It'd be a kick to use.  Would I have to choose between this and the GFX100RF Fuji?  Or could I have both?  I could use all the vintage lenses I own.  The Panasonic allows for user generated LUTs - something I wish my Sony cameras offered.  The menu system is understandable and complete (with a HUGE number of video options, should a person decide to go that route).  

The only downsides to the S9 being the lack of EVF and electronic only shutter.  As with the limitations of the GFX I'm sure I could learn to live with the Panasonic as is.  Humans are sometimes adaptable, right?  Even at this age.

Me being me I was curious to see how the Panasonic would behave with regards to Digital Zone System tonal values as I've come to understand them and to see how Panasonic implemented their in-camera jpg engine.  I put this camera through my little procedures two days after the Fuji and looked at the default Black and White creative style, then at the in-camera Leica monochrome "film simulation" on the S9.

Here's what I see.

Panasonic Lumix S9 ~ in-camera B&W jpg generation

Comments ~

Comparing the default Black and White Panasonic output against the 1EV per Zone standard I see that Zone 5/0EV is +0.3EV higher than the #76 luminosity 18% black standard.  This is consistant and confirmed by performing several sweeps to see what the Panasonic's metering/jpg engine are doing.  Is it part of Panasonic's deliberate "look?"  Or something else?

Like with the Fuji the S9 blacks drop off a bit quicker than the 1EV per Zone standard, but compared against the Zone System tonal range of my Sony A6300 APS-C + DRO1 I see the Panasonic tracks the Sony recipe down to Zone 2, and then extends gently beyond the Sony's Zone 0.  

Highlights are "hotter" than both the "ideal" and the Sony A6300 recipe.  This is due to the way the camera meters Zone5/0EV.  Again, as with the Fuji, in the real world I would expect the Panasonic Lumix S9 to deliver "open" shadow tones.

Turning to the Leica Monochrome "film simulation" at default settings reveal, for me, a horror.  Look at what this recipe delivers.  Hot hot whites.  Why would Leica take a short highlight region (as is standard with digital systems for how sensors are currently implemented) and _shorten_ it?  it seems like a recipe for disaster.  

Maybe it's just me and the "cool kids" know something I don't, but if forced to use the Leica style I'd start be setting the exposure dial to at least -0.3ev, perhaps more, just so the highlights don't get blown.  True film NEVER behaved this way.  GACK!  What a mess.  But, it says Leica, so it must be good.  To someone.  Somewhere. 

As with the cameras I've thus far looked at from a Digital Zone System perspective, the Panasonic Lumix S9 has a "spot" meter selection and that buttons/touch screen selections are customizable for AEL lock.  The S9 would make a very fine stills Zone System device.  Just put the EV dial at -0.3, avoid shooting artificial lighting at the lightings cycle rate (banding would be a problem), avoid that silly Leica Monochrome "film simulation" unless you really understand where the tones lay and everything should be "good to go." 

Having looked at two new cameras after starting with my Sony's I've come to understand something.  Cameras offer similar capabilities independent of the marque.  Understanding how in-camera jpg ASIC engines deliver tone values in the framework of a Digital Zone System in Black and White "works" regardless of marque.  

I now feel confident in the Digital Zone System method.  The process described below appears to be sufficient to the task.

------------- References From Prior Posts ---------------

Note: Sony RAW delivers very good tonal separation in the dark tones that are not expressed when using the in-camera jpg processor EXMOR and EXMOR R versions of the ASIC.  It seems that Sony made a conscious choice about how the dark tones are handled.  There's nothing wrong with their decision as far as I'm concerned.  It's just something to know and work with.  

In my own work  I mitigate the steep dark tone drop-off of the default B&W setting by adding DRO1, which brings up the shadows to the degree I prefer.  Panasonic doesn't seem to require this kind of massaging by default, but could benefit from being used at -0.3EV to ensure Zone 5/0EV meets the industry standard specifications.

Zone System Definition ~

  • Zones are separated by 1 f-stop/1 Exposure Value (EV)
  • Zone 5 ~
    • old film days == 18% gray
    • digital tone value == #76(hexidecimal)/118(decimal)
  • Pure Black
    • old film days == Zone 0 at -5EV
    • digital tone values == -EV-whatever the camera system can deliver (commonly different between RAW - ideally -10EV!!!  and the in-camera jpg generator - Sony Creative Style Black and White in-camera seems set at -5EV, Fuji's GFX isn't demonstrably different from this)
  • Pure White
    • old film days == Zone 10 (last definition) or Zone 9 (earlier definition)
    • digital tone value == +4EV  as Zone 9 for the Sony cameras I own (this has been measured and is very important! to successfully using the Zone System in digital)

Digital Zone System In-Camera jpg Step Wedge generation ~ 

To evaluate in-camera jpg generation here's the method I used to create a Step Wedge that I could visually inspect to when making various in-camera parameter changes -

  •  Camera settings - 
    • ISO == 100
    • Creative Style B&W
    • B&W Contrast to a test value - I've tried -3 to +1
    • Dynamic Range Optimization - Off or DROx where x == [1, 2, 3]
    • Meter to Spot
    • Output file == jpg 
    • Manual focus and defocus the lens as much as possible to fully blur the scene (wanting just tone, no texture) 
  • Using an evenly lit surface (piece of paper, wall, etc)...
  • Take two photos at 0EV and verify which 0EV setting gives exactly #76/118(dec) in the center (where the Spot meter metered) by measuring the tonal value using an image processing software on a computer.  This will be Zone 5 per definition.
  • Raise EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 6 the tonal value as read on a computer 
  • Raise EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 7 the tonal value as read on a computer 
  •  Raise EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 8 the tonal value as read on a computer 
  • Raise EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 9 the tonal value as read on a computer
    • Verify that this tonal value is exactly or very very nearly Pure White
  •  Returning to Zone 5/0EV... lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 4 the tonal value on a computer 
  •  Lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 3 the tonal value on a computer 
  • Lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 3 the tonal value on a computer 
  • Lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 2 the tonal value on a computer
  • Lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 1 the tonal value on a computer
  • Lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 0 the tonal value on a computer - this should record as #00/00(decimal), Pure Black

In practice, older/early mirrorless cameras only provide +/-3EV on the exposure wheel.  In these cases I use "M" (Manual) mode, set the aperture and ISO, then vary the shutter speed by 1EV up/down the test range.  On more recent cameras where +/-5EV is available on the I set the system to "S" (Shutter) mode, set the ISO, then vary the EV by 1EV using the exposure wheel.  Why any company allows +5EV is beyond me, but that's a topic for another time (noting that +5EV is 1EV ABOVE completely and utterly saturated pure white). 

Notes On USE: In a practical sense I find Zones 3 through 7 to be the most important.  If those are as close to 1EV separated as possible, then I like the output.  This is very similar to what I experienced back in the film days.

For the shadow areas I find I prefer Zones 0 through 2 to be rather outside the 1EV separation definition.  This matches film curves more closely and since I'm used to that I like a certain combination of Contrast and DRO settings.

For the highlights I like to make them "sparkle" if I can.  I find I prefer Zone 8 to be pushing closer to Pure White than not.  Having just written that, however, I shot an entire series of in-camera generated images that pleased me using nothing but Contrast == -3.  So it's worth testing different combinations of Contrast and DRO to see what works best for oneself.

 

Sunday, October 05, 2025

Digital Zone System ~ Fuji GFX100RF in-camera B&W jpg generation

I had the good fortune to be able to borrow for about 20 minutes a brand new Fuji GFX100RF.  What a beautiful camera Fuji has made.  I'd be thrilled to own one.  Yes, even if it is fixed lens, bigger than anything I currently own, and comes with a confusing array of knobs, dials, and buttons.  I'd adapt.  Really.  I could.

Reading the marketing literature and camera reviews I expected to see "better" performance of some kind or other out of this new Fuji over, say, any Full Frame or APS-C device.  Bigger is better, right?  How could it not be?

More specifically, I was curious to see how the Fuji with a larger than Full Frame sensor would behave vis a vis a Digital Zone System tonal values as I've come to understand them and to see how Fuji implemented their in-camera jpg engine.  I put the camera through its paces.  I started by looking at the default Black and White creative style and then turned my attention to Fuji's Acros in-camera "film simulation".

Here's what I found.

Fuji GFX100RF ~ in-camera B&W jpg generation

Comments ~

Comparing the default Black and White Fuji output against the 1EV per Zone standard I see that Zone 5/0EV is very close to the #76 luminosity 18% black standard.  The blacks drop off a bit quicker than the 1EV per Zone standard, but compared against the Zone System tonal range of my Sony A6300 APS-C + DRO1 I see the Fuji has a broader range of tones in the dark areas.  Highlights are nearly, but not quite identical between the "ideal", the Sony A6300 recipe and this Fuji.  The Fuji produces a brighter Zone 8.  Further, in practice I would expect the Fuji GFX100RF to offer up an "open" range of shadow tones over the Sony recipe.

As a side note, Sony RAW delivers very good tonal separation in the dark tones that are not expressed when using the in-camera jpg processor EXMOR and EXMOR R versions of the ASIC.  It seems that Sony made a conscious choice about how the dark tones are handled.  There's nothing wrong with their decision as far as I'm concerned.  It's just something to know and work with.  In my own work  I mitigate the steep dark tone drop-off of the default B&W setting by adding DRO1, which brings up the shadows to the degree I prefer.  Fuji doesn't seem to require this kind of massaging by default.

Looking at the Acros "film simulation" at default settings I see the entire tonal range is brought down to various degrees compared with the standard.  Perhaps this is what Fuji feels could give a sense of "richness" when using this style?  In any event, I feel the Acros setting simply produces a darker B&W image in camera.

I verified that the Fuji GFX100RF has a "spot" meter selection and that buttons are customizable for AEL lock.  So, just as with Sony upon which I developed the details of this Digital Zone System, the medium format Fuji appears to provide a decent platform for in-camera jpg Zone System tonal range management.  The "goodness" being, if I were wealthy enough to afford a Fuji in the first place, I would know exactly where to place the various tones of a scene.

 

------------- References From Prior Posts ---------------

Zone System Definition ~

  • Zones are separated by 1 f-stop/1 Exposure Value (EV)
  • Zone 5 ~
    • old film days == 18% gray
    • digital tone value == #76(hexidecimal)/118(decimal)
  • Pure Black
    • old film days == Zone 0 at -5EV
    • digital tone values == -EV-whatever the camera system can deliver (commonly different between RAW - ideally -10EV!!!  and the in-camera jpg generator - Sony Creative Style Black and White in-camera seems set at -5EV, Fuji's GFX isn't demonstrably different from this)
  • Pure White
    • old film days == Zone 10 (last definition) or Zone 9 (earlier definition)
    • digital tone value == +4EV  as Zone 9 for the Sony cameras I own (this has been measured and is very important! to successfully using the Zone System in digital)

Digital Zone System In-Camera jpg Step Wedge generation ~ 

To evaluate in-camera jpg generation here's the method I used to create a Step Wedge that I could visually inspect to when making various in-camera parameter changes -

  •  Camera settings - 
    • ISO == 100
    • Creative Style B&W
    • B&W Contrast to a test value - I've tried -3 to +1
    • Dynamic Range Optimization - Off or DROx where x == [1, 2, 3]
    • Meter to Spot
    • Output file == jpg 
    • Manual focus and defocus the lens as much as possible to fully blur the scene (wanting just tone, no texture) 
  • Using an evenly lit surface (piece of paper, wall, etc)...
  • Take two photos at 0EV and verify which 0EV setting gives exactly #76/118(dec) in the center (where the Spot meter metered) by measuring the tonal value using an image processing software on a computer.  This will be Zone 5 per definition.
  • Raise EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 6 the tonal value as read on a computer 
  • Raise EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 7 the tonal value as read on a computer 
  •  Raise EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 8 the tonal value as read on a computer 
  • Raise EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 9 the tonal value as read on a computer
    • Verify that this tonal value is exactly or very very nearly Pure White
  •  Returning to Zone 5/0EV... lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 4 the tonal value on a computer 
  •  Lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 3 the tonal value on a computer 
  • Lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 3 the tonal value on a computer 
  • Lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 2 the tonal value on a computer
  • Lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 1 the tonal value on a computer
  • Lower the EV by 1EV
    • Take a photo
    • Measure and note as Zone 0 the tonal value on a computer - this should record as #00/00(decimal), Pure Black

In practice, older/early mirrorless cameras only provide +/-3EV on the exposure wheel.  In these cases I use "M" (Manual) mode, set the aperture and ISO, then vary the shutter speed by 1EV up/down the test range.  On more recent cameras where +/-5EV is available on the I set the system to "S" (Shutter) mode, set the ISO, then vary the EV by 1EV using the exposure wheel.  Why any company allows +5EV is beyond me, but that's a topic for another time (noting that +5EV is 1EV ABOVE completely and utterly saturated pure white). 

Notes On USE: In a practical sense I find Zones 3 through 7 to be the most important.  If those are as close to 1EV separated as possible, then I like the output.  This is very similar to what I experienced back in the film days.

For the shadow areas I find I prefer Zones 0 through 2 to be rather outside the 1EV separation definition.  This matches film curves more closely and since I'm used to that I like a certain combination of Contrast and DRO settings.

For the highlights I like to make them "sparkle" if I can.  I find I prefer Zone 8 to be pushing closer to Pure White than not.  Having just written that, however, I shot an entire series of in-camera generated images that pleased me using nothing but Contrast == -3.  So it's worth testing different combinations of Contrast and DRO to see what works best for oneself.

 

Saturday, October 04, 2025

The Chromatic Blur ~ Bulletin du Photo Club de Paris ~ 1902 [translation]

After visiting the musee d'Orsay to see the fabulous exhibition of Celine Leguarde's works I came across an original publication.  It is the 1902 Bulletin du Photo Club de Paris.  Among the many interesting articles on technique, chemistry, new processes, etc. is a long article on lenses.

At the time lenses from photographic equipment suppliers were rather expensive.  I imagine that someone realized commonly available glass elements from eye glass opticians could be pressed into service for a much lower cost.

Using cheap lenses seems to have presented a problem of focus. Most of the article contains descriptions of the problem and calculations for the kinds of glass used (crown).  The calculations are for focal length, aperture, and assume the color spectrum range of the light sensitive materials (blue into green).  Ultimately, what the author gives is a method of accurately calculating how much focus change to apply.

Why all this?  Because the point of focus on a ground glass is different than what the light sensitive materials "see."  The reason is the ground glass image is full spectrum and the film responds to a very narrow range of visible light.  The lenses used had different focus points for different colors. 

While I've tried to "clean up" the article so it might be compréhensible to English readers, I've only done this lightly.  I find the original language to be very charming as well as providing a view into the French world of the very early 20th century.  If this is still accessible to readers, please say so and I will provide a more accurate translation in the sense of current word use, cultural sensitivities, and history.

It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway, any faults in translation are mine and mine alone. 

Chateau de Chantilly ~ 2025


The Chromatic Blur

Among photography enthusiasts, there are those who value the sharpness of their productions by their weight in gold. The faster and sharper a lens is, the more valuable it is, especially since its price increases very quickly with its speed and sharpness.

Equipped with such a lens, expose short (under-expose), develop hard, and print on citrate: you will have a print that can serve as a mirror, and the model's hairs will be counted on it. If you want to make similar ones in slightly larger dimensions, with a wide aperture to go fast, and a long focus to avoid distortion (1), you will be tempted by these ultra-perfected lenses, but you will first find them to have a definite drawback, not to mention the others: they are very expensive.

I have before me the catalog of a famous foreign company that recommends for multiple uses (including portraiture) very large aperture lenses (1/3.6 to 1/5) covering the entire plate without astigmatism and with extremely fine sharpness. For the 13x18 plate and the 25-centimeter focal length, the lens already costs 535 francs. If you go up to 18x24, it's 865 francs. To make 24x30 (with a 47-centimeter focal length), you have to pay 1250 francs Finally, to achieve a focal length of 61 centimeters, with which the lens will indeed cover 30 × 40, it is necessary to spend 2,500 francs on it: it is a sum and I cannot resist the pleasure of saying that a lens of the same focal length (om, 61) will cost around thirty francs, with the same aperture, in the system of simple lenses that I am going to talk about. It will not have at all the same qualities, except speed, but will have others, which some will find preferable. Let us note that at the distance of 2 meters and with the focal length of o™,61, the enlargement will not be excessive. It will be nearly equal, slightly larger than 1/1 and smaller than the scale of most portrait enlargements which are cut in the color, and it is a size of site that must be achieved. One can approach figure studies that are interesting in themselves, and the merit of the composition lies in the lines of the face and in its modeling. We have just spoken of the photographers who stress “sharpness” in their works. Next to them are the Lewis artists who avoid sharpness of the object and who strive to alter by various artifices the implacable dryness of “sharpness.”

(1) We know that when we bring the lens closer than 2 meters (approximately) to a model who is not in profile, its image is distorted like that given by a garden ball into which we look too closely. According to some authors, the distance to be observed would be even greater, four meters or more.

I will be careful not to speak ill of these artifices because they all have their advantages as well as disadvantages and I will limit myself to simply pointing out the various systems.

[photo by De Pellige]

Pinhole??? The eye of the needle or ahupé has found a learned experimenter and enthusiastic promoters. It beats the reward of cheapness, but the subject must become that of patience because the exposures are counted by minutes, like in Daguerre's time.

Count d'Assche's eyeglass cases had their time of success. They were used a lot in Austria, it seems. In France, I know some skilled artists who own them, but I don't see that they use them often. There too, the relative aperture is very small and exposures are very long (1).

One can carefully focus any object, then slightly alter this exact focus so as to produce a certain degree of blur on the frosted glass, which will be reflected in the photograph. Softness is there, it's true; but it is not distributed uniformly or pleasantly. The curvature of the subjects surfaces and the variable depth of the focal for the various planes mean that the sharpness removed from the main subject most often reappears elsewhere, generally where it would not be desired. This process is used by several artists for lack of anything better, but they are not very satisfied with it.

I will not speak of the flicks produced by the camera during the exposure, nor of the imperceptible swaying that one expects from the model and that a very long exposure encourages, it seems. Here, the blur is even more difficult to control, and surprises in the end results are frequent

During the printing of the positive, a thin transparent sheet of gelatin or celluloid can be placed between the paper and the plate to add “softness” to a print. The amount of blur is adjustable by the number of transparent sheets used and is one of the best “softening” processes available to the artist. One can criticize practitioners for the difficulty of preserving the transparent sheets without scratches and the complication they introduce into the equipment. One can also regret that the blurring is absolutely uniform and blurs the features of the model and the least important accessories in rigorously equal quantities.

It is impossible to end this quick and certainly incomplete review of the blurring process without mentioning the binocular prints that Mr. Boissonnas presented at the 1900 Exhibition. Despite all my esteem for the beautiful productions of this skilled artist, I was not convinced by the brochure that accompanied his works, and I remain convinced that they simply constituted double photographs in a particular way

Readers, especially female readers, who do not feel a special vocation for calculus are asked to take my word for it and skip the small print that follows without reading it. If they are willing to show me the same confidence throughout this article, they will continue to skip the small print and reach the end of the large print more quickly. However boring they may have found the author’s mathematical details, they can say that they suffered little compared to what they avoided.

---------------------------- snip --------------------------

Note: I have excluded from this translation the many pages of calculations and descriptions of how to account for what we would effectively call in English "chemical focus."  If anyone is seriously interested I could pass along the original text.  It's interesting from a historical perspective, but would be difficult to apply in any meaningful way in the present day.

 ---------------------------- snip --------------------------

As for lenses, I mainly tried simple lenses and started with simple plano-convex lorgnettes called "periscopic," which can be found at all opticians for an expense of 0.40 francs to 1 franc, depending on the quality, with diameters up to 3 to 4 centimeters, and in all focal lengths from 0.055 to 3.85 (2 inches to 144 inches).

Calculation shows that these plano-convex lenses, arranged with their convexity forward, allow for a fairly large aperture with almost minimal spherical aberration (2). In practice, with exact correction, they produce very good images in the center, for apertures of f/9 and f/8, which allow for quick portraits outdoors or in the studio.

The field of sharpness is very restricted, but at a distance of 2 meters, the model's head is easily contained within it.

By turning the lens over, that is, by directing the flat face toward the light, and by placing a small diaphragm at f/5 in front (at and below), the field of sharpness is significantly increased, but from this point of view, the plano-convex lens always remains inferior to a meniscus (concave convex lens) with its concavity turned forward.

I believe that eyeglass lenses with this meniscus shape are available. They would probably serve well with small apertures, and at f/18 they would allow very brilliant snapshots, because, due to their small thickness and the reduced number of surfaces, absorption and stray reflections of light are reduced to a minimum in simple lenses. But, as I have explained, one would not see any blurring in these photographs taken with very small apertures

Lorgnette lenses are not readily available with diameters greater than 36 millimeters, which, for aperture F/8, corresponds to a focal length of 290 millimeters; if you want longer focal lengths, you must order the lenses, either from an optician, or better, from a factory. I paid 8 francs 40 cents, from a large firm, for a crown-shaped plano-convex lens, which seems perfectly crafted, 12 centimeters in diameter and 70 centimeters in focal length; we see that, even in these large
 dimensions and prices are affordable when it comes to lenses.

(1) The number of the lorgnette lenses indicates their focal length in inches: one inch 27 millimeters.

Board

The mounts are another matter; they are relatively expensive. A rack-and-pinion portrait lens mount costs 50 francs new, in three inches, and 25 francs used. In four inches, it's double: 50 or more francs. It is difficult to find these large mounts without lenses second-hand. The best thing to do is to do without them. A circular groove is cut into a board in the camera and the lens is fixed to it with points like a glass in a frame. On the front, either a shutter or a cardboard stopper is fitted, which can be ordered from a cardboard maker or made yourself: (fig. 6) a sort of candy box, blackened inside, at the bottom of which there is a hole of the diameter you want for the lens opening

Those who have a so-called portrait lens, of the Peltzval type with three lenses, with diaphragms, can make an excellent anachromatic lens by removing the first two, the front achromatic lens and the diverging flint that follows it.

The last lens of the lens, the one that forms the rear, is a converging crown lens, almost plano-convex with its main convexity directed towards the light. Its focal length is roughly the same as that of the entire lens. To prevent it from bouncing around in the mount, once the flint is removed, it is replaced with a cardboard ring.

Depending on whether the main convexity of this lens is directed forward or backward, it can provide all the services I have described with regard to spectacle lenses. With the convexity in front, the largest diaphragm (1/4.5), and exact correction, we obtain an extreme blur, with a very curious effect

The resources of chromatic blur are not limited to single lenses, and it seems that all double or triple lenses could be established without looking for achromatism and by reserving the variables that the optician has at his disposal to correct other aberrations: sphericity, curvature of the focal surface, astigmatism. It also seems that notable simplifications could thus be made to the lenses, with corresponding price reductions: the floor is given to the manufacturers.

In the meantime, while they provide us with an abundance of excellent anachromatic lenses, of great perfection and extremely cheap, we can, from now on, produce chromatic blur with good uncorrected double lenses, because these lenses have existed on the market for a very long time, disdained by artists who, ignorantly, pass by happiness. Image of life! A well-known company, which I can cite without being accused of advertising (because I indicate enough ways to do without it), the Steinheil company has been selling so-called Periscope lenses since 1865, composed of two simple crown menisci The company's brochure states that in small diameters, they allow apertures from F/12 to F/15 with a fixed correction, and that the sharp image embraces 60° with large diaphragms and 90° with small ones. These are the conditions of a good semi-wide angle rectilinear lens, the one that manufacturers readily call universal. If they are achieved with a fixed correction in small focal lengths, it is likely that they are also found in large ones, with a variable... and exact correction.

The prospectus I mentioned also states that there are commercially available, under the name Bistigmat, two-lens lenses that are nothing more than imitations of the periscope. I don't know these imitations, but they may be excellent. Many lenses are nothing more than more or less successful copies of famous types. The more complicated the lens, the more difficult it was to establish its corrections, and the more likely the copy is not to achieve them. A lens as simple as the periscope must, on the contrary, be imitated with deplorable ease for the scientist who took the trouble to calculate it the first time

These imitations are also found in most photography bazaars. At the beginning of their lens catalog, you generally encounter a type that is humbly titled imitation rectilinear or rectilinear fashion, and which is intermediate in price between the achromatic lens, which is the simple lens formed of two glued glasses, and the least expensive and least pretentious rectilinear lens, which is composed of two simple lenses placed symmetrically. Well, greet the imitation rectilinear lens, because it is an anachromatic that doesn't know it! It is composed of two symmetrical crown menisci, and its largest aperture is f/8 to f/10.

In this state, it will take you quick portraits with a pleasant oftness of lines. From f/15 to f/18 you will have good snapshots in a sharp angle of 60° and stopped down between, and it will provide a respectable wide angle covering an angle of 90° if its mount allows it.

I have before me two catalogs A and B, and here are the prices of the rectilinear imitations (the focal lengths are not indicated).

To cover

9X12

13X18

18X24

Catalog A Catalog B

11 francs 13 francs

22 francs

10 15 20

For those who want to try these lenses, I remind you how to correct them. F being the focal length in millimeters, the correction in millimeters is approximately F and exactly: FX 0.0176

It is worth doing this multiplication exactly once and writing the round number of millimeters on the mount. Then write a correction curve on the camera's tail, as I indicated on page 94, or correct in your head by measuring the magnification (p. 85).

I also remind you, and this applies to all anachromatic lenses, that the larger the aperture of the diaphragm, the greater the blur, even with exact correction and rigorous focusing

Below f/9, this focusing presents no difficulty, and the frosted glass does not reveal that the achromatism correction is lacking. Above f/9, the black lines on a white background begin to be bordered by an iridescent fringe that becomes more pronounced as the aperture increases, and, for very large apertures, the focusing appears uncertain. It is best to focus on slightly large printed characters, black on white, and to stare at the glass when these characters appear dark violet-blue, almost black, without a red or yellow fringe.

As for the services that anachromatic lenses, single or double, can provide, they fall into various categories.

These lenses are excellent at short and medium focal lengths (0.5 to 0.30). At a large aperture, they provide quick portraits, softened by their precious blur; stopped down, the lenses...

Double lenses replace, for all possible uses, lenses four or five times more expensive. Finally, the landscaper who needs various focal points to meet the needs of the viewpoint, while covering his plate completely, finds in a set of anachromatic menisci an ideal kit, of minimal bulk and price.

In the long focal lengths, 0.30 to 0.60 and above, anachromatic lenses have inestimable merits. The aridity and exasperating detail of the corrected lens are particularly odious here; the softness, the blending of the anachromatic, especially pleasant. Whether it is a question of figure, genre, or still life, the difference is extraordinary. And what's more, the anachromatic with the longest focal point costs almost nothing, while the corrected lenses reach fantastic prices as soon as the covered plate begins to grow seriously.

[photograph by C. Puyo]


Now, long focal points, by allowing perspective, provide figures, genre, and still lifes, perspectives that the eye much prefers to those of short focal points.

Our eye is a lens that moves and reasons, so the impression it feels of a subject is not that of the rigorously geometric and flat perspective of which the iris would be the point of view. The eye only sees clearly at a very small angle, about 6º. This clear brush, he moves it successively and rapidly over all the parts of the scene that he wishes to embrace, and the perceived image is always normal to the visual ray; consequently, the whole is a perspective traced on a sphere and not on a plane, and it is the instantaneous memory of these successive perspectives that constitutes vision.

But that is not all: the eye knows, by experience, the real size and direction of the lines that perspective distorts on the edges of the painting, and in the instantaneous memory that it keeps of them it restores them in part in their real sizes and directions

In short, when the eye is placed too close to a scene to be able to truly encompass it in a single glance, it composes, by unconscious reflection, an instantaneous memory little different from the impression it would have had if it had been placed far enough away to truly encompass it all at once. So that by stepping back, thanks to a long focal length, the artist achieves more or less the perspective that the eye believes it sees, even up close.

This distant perspective is very satisfactory, whereas if the distance from the camera to the subject falls below a certain limit that can be set approximately at 2 meters, whatever the focal length, the photographic image reveals distortions that the eye does not notice

If it's a full-frontal portrait, the nose is too big and the ears too small, like the image given by a garden ball or a spoon. If the lens has captured a genre scene or a still life, the objects or subjects in the foreground appear enormous, and those in the background seem tiny. In the front, a Brodbignac chair, and in the background, furniture from Lilliput!

With the long-focus lens, there's nothing like this to fear. But we've seen that this lens is unbearable if it doesn't produce blur! So...

And now let the reader not imagine that I believe I have discovered simple objectives. On the contrary, I think that they must have already been used to create confusion in this country and in others, and several times since the late Daguerre. I am ashamed of not knowing it, to say so myself, and I console myself by thinking, with an eminent philosopher (1), that ideas are always found in common; it 
the only thing personal is the way of exposing and illuminating them."

11) Ad. Coste. Revue de Sociologie

I would like to point out, however, that the process described above differs notably from that of the spectacles recommended by Count d'Assche and by Messrs. Watzeck and Loæhr, of Vienna. Anachromatic lenses work at a large aperture, even when they are formed from a single plano-convex lens. These are true lenses which clearly cover a certain surface, and in this clear field there remains no blur other than the chromatic blur. Spectacles, on the contrary, are slow, because they are always strongly diaphragmed (small diametere, small f/stop?) at least, and often. For such apertures, we have seen that the chromatic blur becomes imperceptible. The remaining blur can only come from an inaccurate correction of the focus or from spherical aberration and astigmatism, defects from which biconvex lenses are affected to a high degree

The question has another aspect to which the author of these lines is drawn by a secret tenderness, and which he asks permission to explain in two words. Stand firm and be kind enough not to laugh.

Photography provides artists with a powerful means of expression: nowhere is this better known than in this house.

To sciences of every kind, it offers processes of investigation and recording that nothing can replace, and it even accumulates materials for history. Just ask Presidents on their travels!

But photography has yet another role, certainly broader: to provide a healthy and captivating distraction to a multitude of good people who are growing larger every day.

Healthy, because it exercises and develops attention, care, and taste; captivating, because it is a commonplace observation that the demon of photography quickly reigns supreme over the hearts it has bitten

Such a man, whom an evening club absorbed in a disturbing way, has become the most orderly husband since his tête-à-têtes with the red lantern began. Farewell, queen of spades! Away with the queen of hearts! Mothers, wives, you will never know what you owe to gelatin-bromide!

The anachromatic lens can extend this beneficent empire by putting optical resources within reach of the humblest purses that the achromatic lens achieves through a difficult construction and for an excessive price. One economy easily leads to another, and certainly photographic equipment involves other simplifications. The use of negative papers instead of plates has been the subject of recent studies that appear full of promise.

May these studies succeed, and many others with them, so that photography continually expands its domain and becomes more popular every day. May the anachromatic lens guide it towards the crowd, and may it compete not only with the Cercle, but also with the Cabaret! This is the grace I wish for it.

[photograph by DE PULLIGNY] 

Tuesday, September 02, 2025

Camera Craft ~ September 1934 ~ Notes On The Miniature Camera ~ About the Paper Negative by William Mortensen

Continuing work with a 35mm Leica camera, William Mortensen further described how to use techniques developed for large format images could be applied to the "miniature camera."

The use of paper negatives was talked about when I lived and worked as a B&W print technician in Hollywood, California.  We never used the process in the lab since we were devoted to cranking out museum quality prints at a rather hellatious rate and paper negatives would've slow down our entire process.  We would've needed to work much more closely with photographers and would've needed hours of work on one image.  There simply was zero time for such things.

After reading the following article, I wish I'd taken the time to explore this technique.  In fact, I wish I still had access to a darkroom to work this out in.  Alas, I and my colleagues were held under the St. Ansel, Group F 64 spell of "purist", "realistic" photography back in the day and digital photography arrived before I realized making paper negatives could add to the art and craft of photography.

What caught my attention is William Mortensen's stress on techniques used to avoid what he called the "Fuzzy Wuzzys."  St. Ansel used the same term and derisively applied it to Mortensen's work.  Alas, Mortensen himself preferred to avoid softness in his images.  Which underscores an obvious point that he who "wins" gets to write history.

This will be the last William Mortensen article that I re-post for now from the original 1934 Camera Craft publication.  In a month or two I'll try to remember to post a translation of an article from the Camera Club of Paris 1902 that talks about single element lenses, where to buy them (back in the day), and how to adjust the focus point to correct for chromatic aberration.

Until then, the following William Mortensen article is a real "banger" of a thing to read. 

--------------------------------

Notes On The Miniature Camera
William Mortensen
About the Paper Negative

There are probably two hundred thousand miniature cameras at present in use.  These represent the ultimate refinement of the experience and labours of the most skillful makers of optical apparatus in the world. Hundreds of miles of film pass through these cameras annually, and millions of exposures are made. But despite this tremendous expenditure of materials and energy, the pictorial output is amazingly small.  The mountain has indeed laboured, but to date nothing so lively and prolific as the proverbial mouse has made its appearance.  There are occasional creditable pictures made from miniature negatives, to be sure; but when compared with the colossal effort, the showing is not impressive.

As a tour de force of camera engineering the miniature instrument seems to exert a strange compulsion with many of its users to linger unduly over the technical aspects of their craft, with a proportionate disregard of the fact that the true end and aim of photography is the making of pictures. Light meters, thermometers, chronometers, logarithms, graphs and higher mathematics have converted minicam photography into a sort of scientific black magic. Amateur photographers assume the manner of initiates performing mysterious rites at the dark of the moon, mumbling gamma factors as they compound their developers. Snapping the shutter becomes a ceremony, and developing the negative, a sacrament. But at this point, apparently, the fine ecstacy exhausts itself; for nine out of ten minicam owners seem to be content for their final result with a perfunctory bromide enlargement of the most bromidic character. 

Even the best workers are inclined to distrust all types of "processing."  No doubt they fear the loss, through processing, of definition and gradation, virtues which they rightly treasure very highly.. As a matter of fact, miniature negatives may be processed, as I have discovered through my own experience, without serious loss of gradation, and with an apparent gain in definition. The paper negative and bromoil transfer are processes that the miniature camera worker would do well to employ.

For a process of such great potentialities there has been surprisingly little literature on the subject of the paper negative. This paucity of material is no doubt partially due to the simple and obvious nature of the fundamental principle of the process: "paper negative"
the term is practically self-explanatory.  But most amateur experiments with the procedure terminate very unsatisfactorily; for there is a great deal more to the process than the fact that it utilizes a negative made of paper. Correctly understood and handled, the paper negative is one of the noblest processes available to the pictorialist. It is employed by Echague, who is probably the outstanding pictorialist of these times. The scope it provides for selectivity and control is only slightly less than that afforded by the bromoil transfer.  Indeed, I have found in working with pupils that it affords the best possible preliminary training for the latter process.  Not only are the facilities for local alteration similar, but a similar type of original print is required.  A print that is correct in quality for a paper negative is also suitable to being converted into a bromoil matrix.

In broad outline the paper negative procedure as I practice it is as follows: A bromide enlargement is made from the original negative. After the desired alterations are made on the enlargement, it is placed with it's emulsion side in contact with emulsion of another sheet of bromide paper and, by printing through, converted into a negative. Further alterations may be made on this negative, after which it is again placed in contact, emulsion to emulsion, with a third sheet of bromide paper on which the final positive print is made.

Camera Craft 1934 William Mortensen illustration 

The procedure given above differs in various respects from that advocated by other workers. For example, instead of starting with a simple bromide enlargement, some advocate making a film positive. I prefer the paper positive on account of its simplicity and much greater ease of alteration. Extensive alteration of a miniature film positive is a
practical impossibility, whereas the enlarged print allows for changes in the same terms in which they will appear on the final print. Another point of difference involves the making of the final print from the paper negative. At this juncture, instead of placing the emulsions in contact, one authority advises putting the emulsion side of the negative against the plain side of the priniting paper, so that the light passes through the thickness of both papers. This procedure, he suggests, minimizes grain, because the texture of one paper tends to neutralize that of the other. My experience, however, indicates that this method introduces undesirable diffusion and fuzziness: keeping the emulsions always in contact, on the other hand, permits of no loss of definition. As far as grain is concerned, I am unable to discern any difference between the results of the two methods.

Much more important than the mechanical details of the process ( variants of which each practitioner may work out for himself ) are certain requisites of print and negative quality.  It is failure to understand these that is chiefly responsible for the unsatisfactory outcome of most experiments with paper negatives. Not every print by any means, not
even every good print, is adaptable to the process. There are three of these requisites, and they must all be observed if good results are to be obtained.

CONTRAST MUST BE AVOIDED. The tendency of the paper negative, as of most other processes, is to exaggerate contrast. What seems an effectively contrasty print is often converted into sheer black and white. Hence great care must be taken to secure and preserve all the middle half-tones. There are three sources of contrast, all of which  must be avoided, (a) It may be the result of one-sided, unbalanced lighting.  A fairly flat lighting is much better for processing, (b) The contrast may be inherent in the local colour of the subject, with large areas of light and dark placed in juxtaposition, (c) Contrast may be of chemical origin. For this reason, in working with paper negatives, it is necessary to avoid contrasty emulsion on the original negative, as well as on the bromide paper, and to avoid likewise contrasty developers for paper negative and final print.

THE SOFTNESS OF THE ORIGINAL PRINT AND OF THE PAPER NEGATIVE MUST BE INTRINSIC AND GENUINE. A sort of spurious softness is to be obtained by under-development.  But a print thus secured will not produce a good paper negative.  A print of
the right type shows a scanty use of pure black and white, but a full and complete range of half-tones lying between. Such a print is to be gotten only by full development and correct quality of the original negative.

THE ORIGINAL NEGATIVE MUST BE OF CORRECT QUALITY.  In larger negatives slight deviations from the standard may be permitted; but in miniature negatives each deviation is magnified to a disaster when it is enlarged.  A negative of correct quality utilizes the full range of half-tones that its emulsion affords.  It therefore exhibits a very sparing use of either full black or complete transparency, reserving the former for nothing but the intensest high-lights, and the latter for nothing but the deepest accents of the shadows. Between these two extremes there must be shown a complete range of translucent half-tones, providing modelling by delicate gradation in the light area, and giving a suggestion of drawing in the darker area. This type of negative is very difficult to obtain unless one understands the precise factors of exposure and development that enter into it. Broadly speaking, these factors may be summed up in two rules. ( 1 ) The minimum of exposure. ( 2 ) The maximum of development. By "minimum of exposure" is meant an exposure based on the light area (rather than on the shadows, as the older rule has it). Such a procedure preserves all the half-tones of the light area, instead of lumping them together with the high-lights as the conventionally over-exposed negative does. But to secure all these half-tones it is essential that the second rule be equally observed. By "maximum of development" is meant full development. Any negative that has to be "jerked" from the developer in order to prevent the light area from blocking up is ipso facto an over-exposed negative. With a developer of reduced alkalinity there is no such thing as over-development if the original exposure has been correct.

Camera Craft 1934 William Mortensen illustration 

The same two rules must be observed in making prints and paper negatives in order to save at every point the all-important middle tones.  For this reason I not only employ the briefest possible exposure compatible with the above theory of density, but employ the A solution of D64 at one quarter strength (i.e., one part of D64-A plus three parts of water).

In addition to a negative of correct quality, the following equipment and materials are required for the paper negative procedure as hereafter outlined.
Projection printer.
11x14 printing frame.
Retouching desk, sub-illuminated.  ( Failing this, a contact printer will serve. )
Carbon pencil, Wolfe BB.
Felt stump.
Venus pencil, medium.
An ample supply of XF bromide paper. (Defender velour black F)

For clearness of demonstration I have chosen an example showing a rather extreme amount of control. Not only has a background been added, but there are numerous local alterations. The model was originally photographed in front of an illuminated white screen under a flat front light. A tall gray box served for the vertical form in the background. 

 Note that the original print (fig. 1) is amply supplied with half-tones, and that there is nowhere in it an extreme contrast of black and white. As a first step in planning the picture, make a small enlargement (about 4x6), determine the most effective framing, and with pencil and eraser make a rough preliminary lay-out of the intended structural alterations.

 Using this as a guide, proceed with making an 11x14 enlargement on F paper, framing it in accordance with the plan. Be careful not to over-expose the print, and develop it for four minutes in the A solution of D64, one quarter strength.

[My comment: Developer Formula D-64 is then described... but is not provided here...]

After the print is dried and pressed proceed to make the desired alterations. Work with pencil on the face of the print, and with transmitted light. Use the Venus pencil for detail and the carbon pencil for broad passages when intense black is required. The stump is used to accomplish gradations of tone. Begin working with the head. Do not make the error of starting with the background, lest you lay in the tone too dark. The head and figure, as the dominating element of the picture, must determine the key of the other planes of the picture. Emphasize the shadows, rounding the contour of the head and the orbits of the eyes, and filling in between strands of hair and badly placed light passages.
If it is necessary to get extremely dense blacks, turn the print over and work on the back also. Remember always that it is the transparency value of this print that is of  importance, not the surface appearance.

Proceed down the figure, adjusting the drapery and shadowing the  breasts slightly to emphasize the modeling of the body.  Notice (by comparison with the final print) that the vegetables in the lower corners are considerably lowered in tone to lead the eye to the center of the picture.

When the key tone of the dominating plane of the picture is established,  begin work on the next plane, which in this case is the timber and stone wall. Be careful to avoid mechanical monotony in the stones, and note that they are suggested with light and shade and not literally drawn in. Keep this plane in a lighter tone than that of the figure. The other planes are built up in order, with progressive lightening of tone.  Note that the distant spires echo, in form and number, the motive of the hanging moss, and that the mountains carry out, but not too obviously, the rhythm of the neck-line. The sky is darkened inward from the edges to bring the strongest contrast opposite the head.

To make the paper negative, lay this altered print in the printing frame, emulsion upward, press it into close contact with the glass and lay a piece of F paper over it, emulsion down. Before locking up the frame be sure that the two papers are in absolute contact, for any bubbles or bulges are disastrous. Give it an exposure commensurate with four minute development, with the lens of the projection printer wide open.

The paper negative thus obtained ( Fig. 2 ) shows some increase in contrast, but, thanks to the softness and gradation of the original print, this increase is not serious.  At this stage, incorporation of light passages is accomplished. As with the initial print, the work is started on the principal plane of the picture. The detail of the hair is renewed, and the high-lights on the face are intensified. The modeling of the body beneath the dress is suggested by a few high-lights. The neck-line of the dress is lightened and almost eliminated in order to pull the light passages of the picture together. For the same reason the embroidery pattern on the right shoulder is much subdued and considerably lightened in tone. High-lights are intensified on the sash, on the fingers and on the vegetables in the foreground. Notice also that the bad fold breaking the line of the right sleeve is eliminated, and a slight correction made of the disagreeable foreshortening of the fingers of the left hand. Detail and character is given to the confused mass of foliage at the left. Passing then to the other planes of the picture, the high-lights are intensified on the stones in the wall and the sky slightly brightened near the head.

The procedure for making the final print is the same as that described for the paper negative.   The exposure and development times are the same. In printing, the principal figure may be given increased dominance, if desired, by "dodging" with the negative removed.

Camera Craft 1934 William Mortensen illustration 

 The picture "The Sophisticate" was made by a pupil of mine. I have included it because it is an excellent "piece of work and because it shows the extremely personal type of expression possible with the paper negative process. In this case the formal aspect of the figure has been emphasized by bringing out the wiry outline and making it tight and rigid.

Like Projection Control or any other control process, the paper negative is liable to unskilful and ignorant abuses that make the judicious grieve.   Paper negative prints are frequently to be seen in salons and photographic annuals that betray complete lack of knowledge of human anatomy by placing the high-lights in utterly impossible locations. Others, by harsh and obviously drawn outlines, completely violate the integrity of the photographic original. The process must not be regarded as a means of "doping up" an indifferent picture to conceal earlier technical blunders: technically, the original print should be able to stand on its own merits. A control process lays a heavy burden on its user because it cuts him off from the precise mechanical guidance of the camera. Unless
he knows what he wants to do and how to do it, he is very certain to find that what he has made is a mistake, and not a picture.

Monday, September 01, 2025

Camera Craft ~ August 1934 ~ Notes On The Miniature Camera by William Mortensen

In discovering William Mortensen's book series on photography I came to appreciate his clarity of thought expressed in his writings.

Reading further in the 1934 Camera Craft publication I stumbled upon the following article.  It's written about using a Leica 35mm camera.  Up until now I've only seen photos of him using 2 1/4 x 2 1/4 cameras, so his use of 35mm came as something of a surprise to me.

1934 was rather early in the adoption of what they used to call the "miniature camera", so these insights and demonstrations of practical use are quite interesting. 

--------------------------------

Most of us will recollect, among the more terrifying experiences of our childhood, the day that we were carefully scrubbed and led to have our pictures taken. Two details usually dominate such remembrances.  First, a man who bounded about, dishevelled and distracted, doing strange things and making strange noises. This odd creature we subsequently identified as the photographer. Second, an apparatus slightly smaller than a freight car but much more alarming in appearance, apparently designed by a Spanish Inquisitor out of spare parts of a draw-bridge, which glowered horrifically under a black hood at the far end of the room.

When the owner of a modern miniature instrument compares his compact handful of camera with this medieval monster and realizes that it can do everything that the monster did except frighten children into convulsions, it is obvious to him that, in the material sense, photography is at present making huge advances. Unfortunately many a Leica or Contax owner is failing to take full advantage of the peculiar abilities of his
camera. He seems content to treat it as a sort of super-Kodak for securing super-snap-shots which he steps up into unimaginative enlargements of the drug store type. The miniature camera, of course, admirably fulfills such pedestrian purposes as keeping records of travel and sporting events and Junior with his new bicycle and similar domestic history; but it is not so generally realized that it excells all other types of equipment for photography of the creative, pictorial type.

Camera Craft 1934 William Mortensen illustration 

Some of the advantages of the miniature camera as applied to pictorial work are so
obvious that they need only to be mentioned. Such for example are its cheapness of operation facilitating free experimentation, and its small size which makes it very apt in securing angle shots and in taking prompt advantage of accidentally provided opportunities. 

The lens of short focal length (50 mm) that is regularly supplied as stock equipment with both kinds of miniature cameras, is, if properly understood, the type best suited to pictorial purposes.  Such a lens has, of course, much greater depth of field than one of the longer focal lengths which are the standard choice of most of the old-line photographers. This increased depth of field has the effect of rendering the subject in terms of flat patterns of light and dark areas instead of in terms of greater and lesser definition.
To be sure, the short focal length produces in certain instances considerable abberation and distortion of drawing. This point have all of us is a favorite with the proponents of long focal lengths.  We seen pictures in which feet, protruded toward the camera, take on freakish dimensions, or in which a horse, photographed head-on, dwindles to dwarfish hind-quarters. Such pictures used to be exhibited as demonstrating the faults of a short focal length; rather, they demonstrate faulty arrangement of subject-matter. Slight resourcefulness on the part of the photographer of such awful examples would have enabled him to compose his material into a two-dimensional plane and simultaneously eliminate the abberation and produce a more pleasing pictorial result. The short focal length lens, by forcing its user thus to arrange his material, forces him also to give thought to such primary pictorial considerations as linear patterns and notan values.

I have come to much prefer, for pictorial use, the view finder of the miniature camera to the ground-glass of cameras of the reflex type. The very smallness of the image in the view finder causes one to judge its pictorial values in terms of large planes and broad patterns of light and dark.  Indeed it is impossible under normal conditions, to see things in the ground-glass in the two-dimensional aspect they will assume when photographed. For when one closes down the diaphragm to bring the back-ground into focus, the image on the glass becomes too dim and dark to be of any use.

The quality of selectivity, which distinguishes pictorial photography from photography that is merely realistic and fact-recording, is readily achieved with the miniature camera. Of course the very flexibility and portability of the little instrument gives it extreme freedom in the selection of subject-matter and effective angles; but a more significant selection is achieved in the mere process of enlarging the 35 millimeter negative to an 11x14 print. This tremendous amplification emphasises planes and patterns and subordinates details, keeping perfect gradation with no apparent loss in definition. A landscape is seen by the miniature camera, not as a group of contradictorily clamouring details, but as large masses and simple planes as the artist sees it. Similarly a portrait with a miniature camera reveals the structure and dominating characteristics of a face, rather than its lesser details, its textures and its blemishes.

The various procedures of Projection Control— framing, local printing, dodging, distortion, and montage which I have discussed in previous articles, are all applicable to miniature negatives and greatly increase the small camera's scope for selectivity.

Such special processes as the little-understood bromoil transfer and the neglected paper negative are particularly happy mediums for working up the products of the miniature camera. Both are susceptible to a high degree of control and provide a great stimulus to a worker with imagination. In an article to follow, I will consider the advantages of the paper negative to miniature pictorialists.

Most minicam owners nowadays are greatly hampered in getting the best out of their cameras by several technical obsessions that are earnestly fostered by dealers and manufacturers. These obsessions are four in number and are concerned, respectively, with (1) grainlessness, (2) speed, (3) colour correction, and (4) gadgets.

Under the vogue for grainlessness there have been marketed thousands of gallons of developer - some good, some useless, some consisting of old stand-byes in fancy bottles with new labels, and some definitely poisonous, to susceptible individuals. As a matter of fact, grainlessness is not particularly related to extremely modern methods and formulas.
I have, in my files, many ten-year-old negatives that were developed in the tabloid Rytol solution and are nearly devoid of grain. For pictorial use a certain amount of grain is rather an advantage than otherwise, as it produces a vibration that is more effective than a (technically) more perfect print. In making bromoil transfers considerable grain in the matrix is permissible as the graininess of the processes tends to counteract the grain of the original print.

The speed obsession takes on two manifestations: speed and lenses.  Instead of working out the possibilities of a lens of moderate aperture, the bedeviled minicam owner sets his ideal at something that looks like a locomotive headlight, and hastily acquires F 2 and F 1.5 and dreamily contemplates the day when he will be able to own F 0.9. Save for very special problems, such stupendous apertures are not of the slightest use to the average worker. Speed is a quality that can be gained only by the loss of other qualities much more important. A lens of F 2 aperture is quite incapable of obtaining the depth of field necessary for pictorial work. Of course such a lens may be closed down till the desired definition is obtained, but the lens in such a case might as well have been F 3.5 in the
first place, thus saving one the embarrassment of a large amount of excess baggage of expensive and un-needed glass. The weight of such lenses out of proportion to the camera, and is apt in my experience, to cause vibration of the tripod. Films have similarly become afflicted by the speed mania. Speed emulsions and super-speed emulsions have made their appearance, and without doubt extra-hyper-ultra-super-speed emulsions are
just around the corner. One five-hundredth of a second on par-speed is film is amply rapid to care for all normal events of man and beast. As in the case of lenses, film emulsions are speeded up only by the sacrifice of desirable qualities. It has been my experience that the super sensitive emulsions invariably produce degraded half-tones with greatly increased grain. 

The obsession for colour correction has led some owners of miniature cameras a merry dance of desperate experimentation with strange types of films and with filters of all colours of the rainbow and some new ones.  The result of this experimentation has for most workers been very meager, and many of the so-called "successful" prints would have been much better if they had been done on ortho film without filters. Frequently indeed, the distortion of colour values is a pictorial advantage. If one accepts the premise of the creative pictorial worker that the end of photographic art is not fact but the interpretation of fact in terms of the medium, the zeal for colour correction is seen to be of little account.  The conversion of colour into a scale of grays is a matter of accepted
convention, and the change of the relative position of some colours on this scale does not alter the convention.

The obsession for gadgets is perhaps the most prevalent of all the minicam owner. There are adjuncts, false ideals that afflict the average appurtenances and attachments without number that monthly sing their siren songs from the adverising pages of photographic journals. Some of it is special equipment designed for specialists, but a great deal of it
is gadgets, dingueses, thingumies and doodads of a fantastic degree of uselessness that seems to have been conceived in the fertile brain of Rube Goldberg. The special equipment is undoubtedly well adapted to its purpose, but for the average amateur to stock up on boxes of lenses and racks of filters is not only unnecessary but a distinct hinderance to his advancement in his craft. Many a miniature camera is now lying discarded on the shelf because its disgusted owner was not able to make his ponderous and overwhelming equipment do what it was supposed to do. To try to improve one's pictures by buying complicated equipment is like studying differential calculus in order to learn to add two plus two. Many an enthusiast has sunk a thousand dollars in equipment without bothering to learn how to make a correct exposure or how to correctly develop it.

In speaking of the vanity of gadgets pioneer struggler with miniature cameras I do not speak lightly.  As a pioneer struggler with his miniature camera who has sowed his wild para-phenylenediamine and wasted his substance in riotous experimentation, I speak from the heart when I say that gadgets are the prime time-wasters and energy-disperser. There was a time when I too lent an ear to their seductions and tried them all. Every dingus that could be hung onto a camera, every foul brew that could be used for developing, every paper, every film that the market offered— with these I wasted my youth. My once great beauty, alas, has faded, my back is bowed and my feet are flat; but I have learned to abjure gadgets and haphazard experimentation.

This attitude does not imply any blindness to genuine advances in methods or equipment. But such significant advances always so obviously and unmistakably fill a definite need that there is no possibility of confusing them with the common run of ingeniously useless inventions. Such an advance was made recently, for example, in developing the automatic focusing device for the projection enlarger.  In general the use of new things is prone to run ahead of the proper understanding of them. Many a minicam owner would do well to leave technique to the technicians and put his camera to the almost forgotten task of taking pictures.

In equipment of the extremest simplicity lies the best hope for success in pictorial work with the miniature camera. Such a list of essentials as the one that I shall presently suggest will, I fear, seem insultingly meager to the minicamist who is prone to console himself for lack of results by treating himself to fresh equipment, after the manner of the well-known feminine habit of buying a new hat to rouse the drooping spirit. The list,
small as it is, is adequate for all purposes, saving only the most specialized, and one could easily spend several life-times in learning to use it properly.


Here then is the list:
Miniature camera with 50 mm lens.
Cable release. 
K2. filter.
A hood.
6 magazines.
Green viewing glass.
Vertical enlarger with good lens and condensers.

This equipment is used in connection with the following materials and formulas.
Eastman Panatomic film.
Defender Medium weight white rough matt paper.
For developing, D76 (Eastman) or a similar boric acid-borax formula.

Equipment of value only as it is used, and nothing is included above that is not immediately useful in the making of pictures.  Abjured along with hampering excess of equipment are all faddish procedures relating to temperature, rinsing, washing, drying, etc., over which minicam owners have spent tormented days and sleepless nights. Much more important are skilful handling, clean apparatus, fresh chemicals, and good sense.

As I have claimed such pictorial advantages for the miniature camera, I have chosen for demonstration a pictorial subject involving an extreme degree of romanticism and illusionary quality. "Indian Serenade" despite its delicately lyric vein and exotic atmosphere, is assembled from quite common and ordinary materials. The picture was taken indoors, and the lengthy perspective was not greater than twenty feet.

The material components of the picture were the following:
A white wall.
A dish pan of water.
A cement floor.
Two people.
A baby spot.
Some artificial flowers.
Gleanings from rag bags.
Eight yards of pink gauze of two shades.
Two grass mats.
Prunings of a rose bush.
A musical instrument.

The picture is arranged in a series of parallel planes. The first and most distant plane is comprised of the sky and mountains, the second, of the tree and figures, the third, of the foreground. Thus a clear sense of recession and space is given, without loss of two dimensional quality. 

Camera Craft 1934 William Mortensen illustration 

A rough pencil sketch served to establish the main planes of the picture, to give an approximate idea of the linear and notan pattern, and to indicate framing and relating of the figures to the picture-space. I find that use of such a preliminary sketch is indispensible, as it compells one to visualize in advance and obviates aimless experimentation at the time of shooting.

The set was carefully arranged before hand. Directly in front of the white background was laid the pink gauze, bunched up to represent the mountains, the paler colour serving for the distant ranges and the darker for the nearer ones.  Five feet from the background the grass mats were put down, the flowers sprinkled about, and the tree suspended from the ceiling Then for about fifteen feet in front of the grass mats, the cement floor was well wet down, laying in the water in streaks parallel to the background. The costumes consist simply of a few bits of cloth pinned about and draped. The materials were selected for their photographic and notan qualities rather than their intrinsic beauty, taking due care, of course, to avoid extreme contrasts of black and white. Authenticity was not aimed at; rather the endeavor was to suggest the spirit of the oriental garb with as few elements as possible.

Camera Craft 1934 William Mortensen illustration 

In arranging the models it was found necessary to seat the man on a small stool in order to create the desired pyramidal composition. The tree was shifted somewhat and a few twigs lopped in order to bring it into more harmonious conformation with the figures. The flowers were adjusted until they furnished effectively placed accents.

The white background was well illuminated, and from another source characters were given a flat front light.  For the moon a "baby Klieg" was used, which with the aid of a cardboard mask was made to cast a spot of intense illumination on the background. To avoid hitting the characters with the shaft of light it was necessary to place the Klieg to
one side. This of course produced an oval moon until the hole in the cardboard was altered to correct this distortion.

Finally, the whole set-up was studied through a blue glass, observing the notan pattern, noting and correcting a few bad contrasts. The moon was moved to its most effective placement relative to the heads, and a last slight rearrangement was made of the foliage.

The camera was placed on a low tripod, about five inches from the floor and twenty feet from the back wall. This low position of the camera was chosen to get a low horizon line, giving dominance to the figures and making it easier to build a pyramidal composition. It also secures the best reflections from the wet floor. A large number of exposures were taken, about three rolls in all, with slight variations in exposure, and gradual and slight changes in the inter-relationship of the smaller elements of the picture. 

Enlarged proofs about 3 by 4 inches were made of all the perfect negatives in the three rolls. Then followed a long process of elimination and selection on the basis of two standards subject interest and notan pattern. When the group was reduced to two or three the final choice was on a basis of subject interest. Thus three standards of choice entered into this stage of the picture. 

1. Negative quality.
2. Notan pattern.
3. Subject interest.

A considerable amount of Projection Control was employed in making the final print. Much care was used in framing so as to secure the proper relationship of the figures to the picture space. Dodging with the finger tip was resorted to in order to liqhten the moon and darken the tone of the rest of the picture. Through dodging also were secured the deep tones in the upper corners of the picture.

Camera Craft 1934 William Mortensen illustration 

( To be continued )

Sunday, August 31, 2025

Camera Craft ~ 1934 ~ Responses to Venus And Vulcan and William Mortensen

Following the "Venus and Vulcan" articles published in Camera Craft written by William Mortensen that examined various approaches to photography, Group F 64 appears to have taken great offense.  Two letters were published that same year, 1934.

My experience of the history of photography in California is that Group F 64 "won" the war of "purism" and "realism" over "pictorialism".  Ed Weston, Ansel Adams, Imogen Cunningham went on to lead successful careers. William Mortensen was resigned to be backwaters of photography history.

Yet, in so many ways, it was William Mortensen who helped democratize photography and made it accessible to Americans.  He taught and wrote about skills and techniques used in photography years before St. Ansel published his now famous series (including The Negative, The Print, etc).  Specifically, William Mortensen described a system of exposure and film development that led directly to the Zone System.  This was much to the horror of St. Ansel, who felt he'd made something entirely new, had written books on the subject, only to learn later though a professor he'd taught with about who had actually given rise to the concept.

Before St. Ansel was crowned King of West Coast Photography my family belonged to a little camera club in San Juan Capistrano.  It was run by a photographer who'd been injured by an Indy car that'd lanced into the track-side photographers area where he was photographing an Indy 500.  We learned about Weston, Adams, and other members of the original Group F 64.  A few of the photographers in the club would go north to Yosemite Valley during the summer to take classes from Adams and his assistants.  They'd come back and tell stories about how much fun they'd had, how their photography was vastly improved, and such and that.  Those of us who couldn't afford to take classes were impressed.

Much closer to home, I grew up not far from Laguna Beach.  This is where the Last Great Pictorialist, William Mortensen, lived and worked.  The appellation I just give Mortensen is, of course, not strictly true.  There are, even today, perfectly capable Pictorialist practioners.  But I put things this way because of my own history of the place and time.  I knew nothing of man even though he was situated very close to were I, too, lived.  It feels all to much like a "missed opportunity."

It's interesting to me to read these raw first person histories.  They're not always kind, these materials.  What is striking is there's so much passion for the subject, even as I've just recently learned through a friend this passion was deliberately fueled as to stoke the fires of commercialism.  Create controversy.  Sell more books.  Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.  

I don't mean this to minimize William Mortensen's words.  Instead, I feel what he wrote nearly 100 years ago stands true and clear in spite of any underlying commercial motivation.  He roundly angered Group F 64 in the process, that's for certain.  How did members of Group F 64 respond to the following?

"...  The whole program of the purists inclines to overlook the basic truth that the final concern of art is not with facts, but with ideas and emotions..." ~ William Mortensen, Camera Craft, 1934

Let's have a look, shall we? 

Clouds over Dinard ~ 2025 

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Correspondence April 1934 ~

Dear Sir:

The article by William Mortensen in the February issue of Camera Craft interests me very much indeed.  In a very engaging manner he has presented a point of view which paves an excellent path for discussion.  As a member of GroupF64 I feel obliged to answer certain points of opinion which M. Morensen holds about us.  I say "about us" - I really mean about the contemporary tendency which I feel we reflect rather than motivate.  It is true that Group F64 has strenuously held to its program and ideals and has, in its short existence, produced a good deal of work.  But the work of the Group is no self-assertive of Perfetion and the Ultimate.  We are experimenters who are investigation, as it were, the possibilities of the pure photographic medium.  We have no base our work on the photographic precedents alone; we are attempting to define photography as a fine art, and we embrace the motives and accomplishments of all contemporary art in relation to the thought (and thought-processes) of the times.  We are not imitating the superficial aspects of the other art-forms; we are concerned with the essential logic of art.  All art is really the expression of the same thing, and we are attempting to define the particular manner and mode of the pure photographic expression.  The "Pictorialist" has acknowledged the other arts only in the imitative sense (superficially) and has neglected to remember photography in his production.

All the members of the Group F.64 are independent - and all are quite different in their essential work.  The Group membership is open to anyone who comes forward with original work well done and true to the medium in the opinion of all the the Group.  Regarding the name of the Group - F.64: let me offer a short history of it.  For several years I had entertained the idea of forming a small group of workers in the modern idiom; finally, with the enthusiastic aid of Willard Van Dyke, the Group was organized.  It was very difficult to find a suitable name - many suggestions were made but rejected on account of inadequacy, duplication, etc.  They Willard Van Dyke suffered a stroke of genius and thought of "F 64."  The Group immediately accepted the name.  Not only have we not disowned it - we chose it enthusiastically.  The name suggests precision and accuracy, and it does not men that we use only F64!

Mr. Mortensen's term "Meta-realism" is a very good term, but I do not think he has clearly defined what he means. I think that the work of the Germans of which he speaks is developed along the same general direction of the work of Paul Strand, Group F 64, etc., except that it is very unimpressive in technic and is often shallow throughout.

Also, I would like a precise definition of Mr. Mortensen's conception of Taste.


Ansel Adams

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A Purist's Reply to Mr. Mortensen ~ June 8, 1934

Dear Mr. Young:

It is impossible for me to take issue with Mr. Mortensen on the subject of photography, for our definitions of the medium are woo widely divergent to permit a common ground of discussion.  I believe that an artist must express his time and place withing the limitations of his medium; that every medium has its limitations; and that both in his work and in his writing, Mr. Mortensen has disregarded the exigencies of photography.  However his article in your last issue is convincingly written, too convincingly, to let pass certain misconceptions Mr. Mortensen seems to have in regard to the purist, which might be misleading to someone who reads one side of the story only.

Mr. Mortensen says that the work of the purist lacks subjective interest.  Either  he must be unobservant, or he is unfamiliar with the work. Photography is an
objective medium, true enough, but the most objective photograph is capable of
profound subjective reaction arousing a in the mind of the In the in-
spectator.  In the infancy of any medium, there are produced examples which may be considered experimental, and important only as indications of a maturity of expression to come.  Doubtless many of us are guilty of presenting photographs of this type.  However, certain recent tendencies are away from mere pattern making toward photographs rendered in a straight manner, the interpretation of which may be considered definitely subjective.  Furthermore this interpretation would be in the light of our time and our conditions, not in an escape from them into a nebulous past.  Mr. Mortensen has photographed a contemporary American disguised as Cesare Borgia (who after all lived in Renaissance Italy).  Does this have any meaning for a twentieth-century American, or is it merely Mr. Mortensen's attempt to escape the problems with surround him?

Unfortunately, when the question of "staticism" in portraiture is consider, Mr. Mortensen takes Ansel Adams' remarks to represent the attitude of all the workers in the pure manner.  Weston definitely disagrees with this point of view, and I am sure that John Paul Edwards and Imogen Cunningham also do not agree.

As to the subject of equipment: Ansel Adams is engaged in a variety of commercial jobs with necessitate the use of several cameras and lenses.   The fact that he has mastered them is to his credit.  Weston, on the other hand, uses one camera for portraiture and a view camera for all other work.  Most of the men I know who work in pure photography use but one camera.  It is far more usual to find "gadget hounds" among the users of miniature cameras.  So much for the statement that we pay "lip-homage" only, to the doctrine of simplicity.

Mr. Mortensen objects to our complete rendering of detail, and says that our records of actuality are not artistic truth, because art "is things as they are experienced, not things as they are."  The art of the purist is experienced.  The experiencing of an emotional reaction to the subject is the impetus which causes him to make his photograph.  The subject is "seen" however, within the confines of his objective medium, and he proceeds therefore, to make a photograph in a manner which best will convey to the spectator, th truth of the subject which has caused his emotional reaction.  For after all the spectator has nothing from which to react but the photographic print.

The purist is selective, although Mr. Mortensen says that this is not true.  He may select subject material, point of view, film, filter, lens, and printing paper.  Selectivity differentiates the photograph of artistic intent from that of mere fact transcription.  I don not mean to disregard the importance of subject material, for there is no doubt in my mind that the period of technical tours de force is over, and that now, by associative connotations in the mind of the person who sees the print, subject matter must also play its part in the composition.

Yours truly, Willard Van Dyke 

Saturday, August 30, 2025

Camera Craft ~ June 1934 ~ Venus And Vulcan William Mortensen An Essay On Creative Pictorialism Fallacies of "Pure Photography"

Image-making today is generally and for the most part rather banal.  Viewers and practitioners alike for whatever reasons are satisfied with this state of affairs.  Images are created and consumed at a hellatious rate.  Billions of little banalities are posted every day across the 'net.  To what end?  For what purpose?

It wasn't always this way.  In fact, "things" used to matter a bit differently back in the day and these things could be sometimes hashed out in public.  Peoples egos were inflated or bruised, depending on the individual sure enough.  "Stuff" happened.  Lives were lived.  Histories recorded.  A few of the participants got famous (and rich).  Others languished into the back of the deepest caves of photographic history. 

The following William Mortensen Camera Craft article from 1934 is particularly interesting in this regard.  It's interesting to me he was so often denigrated and not celebrated.  Ansel Adams later wrote he wished Mortensen dead.  Could this specific article be related to that desire?

 

Saint Enogat, Dinard ~ 2025 

------------------------------------ 

Venus and Vulcan ~ William Mortensen
An Essay on Creative Pictorialism 
4. Fallacies of "Pure Photography"

There have always been purists in art just as there have been puritans in morals. Purists and puritans alike have been marked by a crusading devotion to self-defined fundamentals, by a tendency to sweeping condemnation of all who over-step the boundaries they have set up, and by grim disapproval of the more pleasing and graceful
things in life. Both of them, in their enthusiastic zeal for putting down gross abuses, are prone, in Savonarola fashion, to throw everything onto the fire. So, instead of merely fulfilling their salutary function of clearing out rubbish and getting down to basic principles, they have set themselves perversely in the way of further progress.

 In the field of photography there had long been many sins committed with the aid of a camera that cried out for correction. The snap-shooter was busy giving perpetuity to banalities. The photo-artist of the Fuzzy-Wuzzy school was, with the aid of diffusion lenses, expressing himself in terms of cotton wool. An aimless dilettantism marked the efforts of the average amateur, and a bare-faced ignorance of technical fundamentals marked the efforts of many a one who called himself a professional. And finally there was an emphasis on the quick and easy, cheap and nasty commercial aspects of photography.

Here, surely, was opportunity for the reformer and his torch and a rousing 'bonfire of vanities". Such a reformation movement was forth-coming in the work of the so-called purists. Rationalizing their prejudicesinto a definition of the aim of photography, they found it to consist in an objective rendering of fact free from any "conceptions reminiscent of other mediums". Manipulation or retouching of negatives or prints they
shunned as the plague. They stressed the need of simplicity and sincerity, and the vital importance of solid technical knowledge.  Their work is uniformly hard and brittle, shows technical competence, and consistently avoids any subjective interest. And after the perennial fashion of reformers, they have duly erected their reforms into a code, and have chosen to regard a good clean contact print as the end of photography rather than as its indispensible beginning.

In earlier articles of this series I have endeavored to outline somewhat the positions of the Realistic (or purist) and the Non-realist (or Creative) groups in photography. In the present article I intend to examine critically the major tenets of the Realists, with the view of pointing out some of the fallacies that, it seems to me, infect their thinking.
In so doing, I, for the most part, omit from consideration the crowning fallacy of all
a would-be art that is unselective; for this aspect of the — matter was largely covered in the last chapter.

The Realists have laid great emphasis on the purity- of "pure photography", unpolluted by any of the methods, mannerisms, or qualities of the graphic arts of painting, drawing, etching, etc. "Purity" is conceived to consist in limiting photographic expression to the mechanically objective representation that is inherent in the uncontrolled camera, and in limiting processes to the simplest and most primitive type. Thus the photo-chemical process, seizing its tail in its mouth, finds its realization in itself. Purity in art is an ancient topic for argument. In the fifth century before Christ, Euripides was sharply taken to task for bringing human problems into his plays and thus debasing the severe purity of the dramatic form. Shakespeare, in Voltaire's opinion, was a talented barbarian who understood nothing of the niceties of play-writing. Beethoven and Wagner were both charged with violating the purity of their medium Beethoven by bringing a philosophic element into his music, Wagner by developing his music on dramatic lines. However, it seems exceedingly doubtful that purity in art is either possible or desirable. Imagination is a wayward and wilful wench, and when she is on the loose she is not to be held in check by any arbitrary boundaries that divide one medium from another. The best work in any medium often contains "conceptions reminiscent of other mediums". Michael Angelo, the sculptor, brought sculptural qualities to his painting. Rembrandt was a master of both painting and etching, and used the two mediums to obtain similar effects. The quality of Beethoven was unchanged, whether he wrote for piano or symphony orchestra.

Photography as a technique and an art is very young, much too young for any one to say just what is "photographic". So, even if it were desirable, it would be an exceedingly presumptious act to fence in a narrow tract and label it "pure photography". Regarded merely as a means of objective representation, photography is a shallow medium
possessing neither breadth nor emphasis. To confine oneself to this aspect of  photography is to be guided by the weakness rather than the strength of the medium.

In many cases the finely enunciated precepts of the Realists are contradicted
by their own practice, oftentimes because these precepts are impossible of realization under the limitations which they have laid upon themselves. "Honesty and sincerity", for example, which the Realists mention as being among their aims, are certainly worthy objectives, and are certainly essential qualities of great art; but honesty and sincerity
are not to be achieved by mere repetition of superficial facts. It may be a fact (let us say) that Mary Jones has a pimple on her nose; but to portray the pimple in all its effulgence would be neither honest nor sincere, for to do so would imply that the pimple was as important as Mary, and even might be regarded as suggesting that Mary partook of the annoying nature of her blemish. For reasons that I will discuss when I come to the matter of texture, faithful representation of surfaces often vitiates or even contradicts the essential character of the subject.

 "Staticism" 'in portraiture is another quality sought by the Realists.  By this expression they mean photographing a head or figure in objective terms as if it were a piece of sculpture. Given appropriate subject matter, such impersonal handling may be very impressive; but here again the Realists are betrayed by their unselective and literal rendering of details. Accidental, temporary things thrust themselves into the attention. A wisp of hair out of place, a skin imperfection, an assertive pattern in the dress and the desired static, sculptured quality breaks down into a mere conglomerate of detail.

"Simplicity" is another excellent standard which the Realists have set themselves - simplicity in equipment and rendering.  Unquestionably such simplicity characteristizes the best in art. But, with the Realists, simplicity in rendering is often lost through their passion for irrelevant detail. As to simplicity in equipment this seems to be an ideal to which they pay lip-homage only. In a recently published exposition of purist technique and methods, the author lists in his simplified equipment three cameras and six lenses. Three very similar portraits are shown as the product of two cameras and three lenses. Simplicity of equipment is of value only because it enables one to be master of his tools and concentrated on the sole end of photography the making of pictures. To thoroughly master three cameras and six lenses in all their permutations would require a considerably longer life-span than Providence has allotted to photographers. An imperfectly mastered tool is largely master of its user.  So great is the technical obsession revealed by some of the purists home that it seems not illogical to suggest that they keep their prints at and send their cameras to the salons.

A further curious conflict of principle and practice appears in the Realist's identification of tone with emotional characteristics.  That tone has such emotional qualities I do not deny: but how came such an untamed maverick as emotion to stray into the chaste pastures of the purists? Emotion is a subjective quality, and is strange, not to say danger-
ous, company for "pure objectivity". Emotion is a very unruly critter, and is likely to play hell with the purist china-shop. Indeed, there is evidence that the destructive work has already begun; for the exposition of Realist technique to which I have already alluded refers to tone as something admitting of control. This is, of course, a fatal concession, and
gives the whole show away. For if an objective "record of reality" is the aim, then a "photometrically accurate presentation" is the only possible presentation, no matter how aesthetically distressing it might be. If tone is granted to be subject to control, why not line also, which has equal emotional significance? And if line, why not shapes and forms?
And if shapes and forms, why not allow elision or emphasis of detail?  And if all these things are allowed, what becomes of the "record of actuality"? ...  Sunk without a trace!

 So much for the inherent contradictions of the purist position. More serious are the deviations of the purist tenets from basic art principles.  Especially fallacious is their assumption that artistic truth lies in a complete rendering of literal detail, in a "record of actuality". Truth in art — lies in the rendering of experience or rather in the rendering of things-as-they-are-experienced, not of things-as-they-are. Psychological truth, not scientific accuracy, is the species of veracity with which art is concerned — conformity not to fact, but to the mind's way of apprehending fact.

The mind in apprehending a thing does not grasp it as a collection of details simultaneously and equally important. Rather, the mind moves. by the momentum imparted to it by the initial impression, to an apprehension of the thing as a whole, not only as it is, but as it has been previously experienced, and even as it has been coloured by emotion.  This sort of mental movement (which is what the psychologists call "per-
ception") may follow either of two different patterns. (1 ) A few details or attributes may be developed to a completely filled outline.  (2) A suggestive or familiar shape or configuration may be supplied with necessary detail. As an example of the first sort of pattern: I see a girl crossing the street a block away, and I recognize her as my old friend,
Mary Jones.  As a matter of fact, her dress is the only thing that I recognize; but from the momentum given by this suggestion my mind moves to a convincing presentation of Miss Jones the colour of her eyes, the way she does her hair, the kind of scent she uses, and what she said to me a week ago Tuesday.  As an example of the second sort of pattern: I
recognize Mary Jones, not from a significant detail, but from a familiar quality of figure or posture.  From this I fill in the essential detail.  As an equally familiar and more striking instance of the second type I may cite the common human propensity for seeing "pictures in the fire", and finding faces, beasts, and monsters in accidental configurations of clouds or stains on the wall.  Though the resemblance may be of the vaguest, so eagerly creative is the unencumbered mind that it moves instantly to supply detail...

"Methinks it is like a weasel.
"It is backed like a weasel.
"Or like a whale?
"Very like a whale."

Graphic art endeavors always to expedite and facilitate the mental movement of the perceptive process. This is the advantage of breadth of handling large simple forms and open planes wherein the mind can move freely through the picture. But if the forms are broken up and the planes cluttered with minute inconsequentials, the mind stops, baffled and resentful. For the mind in a mood of aesthetic contemplation is the mind on a holiday, and simply will not be bothered with the nagging logic of things-as-they-are.

 Herein lies the particular fallacy of the Realist's preoccupation with the literal rendering of minutiae as textures.  For in textures it is peculiarly evident that too much concern with things-as-they-are may prevent one from attaining the perceptive truth of things-as-they-are-experienced.  To render flesh, for example, in terms of pores, hairs, and wrinkles, no matter how accurately it is done, fails utterly to give an experience of
flesh.  Our perception of flesh is to only a limited extent made up of visual facts: impressions gained from other senses, such as warmth, smoothness and firmness, are just as important as surface topoqraphy.  These qualities must be suggested to give the true experience of flesh texture. Such an experience cannot be given by a technique that invites you to trace the wrinkles and count the hairs.

 With numerous references to the "logic of art", the purists have drawn attention to the fact that the camera is essentially a recording instrument, insisting that this fact should condition and limit the product.  To my mind, the logic of art would indicate, rather, that this fact is an irrelevant one, just as irrelevant to the photographer as the fact that paint
smells of turpentine is to the painter. As well, by strict logic, define the etchers needle as "an instrument for scratching" and then limit his activities to nothing but scratching.

 Although they allow themselves the unphotographic luxury of "spotting" their prints, the Realists protest bitterly against retouching of prints or negatives.  Why this intense prejudice against retouching? It belongs to the selective method of all arts. Painters retouch. Etchers retouch.  Writers retouch.  The notebooks of Beethoven reveal the enormous amount of retouching that went into his work. For a photographer to foreswear retouching seems mere affectation.

The whole program of the purists inclines to overlook the basic truth that the final concern of art is not with facts, but with ideas and emotions. ll who talk glibly of new art forms and new techniques must be prepared to cope with that most laconically cruel of all questions: "And so what?" Or to put it less tersely: "What are you trying to tell with your
forms and your techniques?"  Technically speaking, photography is a matter of facts. The image produced by the lens is an optical fact; fixed on paper, it becomes a chemical fact.  A chemical fact can never become a picture unless an idea and an emotion are also present; and these are qualities that cannot be added to the developer.

Many a lowly news photographer in his illustrative embellishments of such themes as Love Nests, and Heiress Elopes with Chauffeur, and Scion of Wealthy Family Leaps to Death, has for years been producing technically perfect "records of actuality" because his job required it of him. It has never occurred to him to make artistic claims for his pictures.  Yet now, like Moliere's Monsieur Jourdain, who was so amazed to discover that he had been talking prose all his life, the press photographer may learn, to his consternation, that he is a purist.

The principal fruit of the purist movement so far has been a series of excellent finger exercises in technique.  This is well and good.  Most aspiring pictorialists don't give themselves half enough hard, grinding work of this sort. But the purists (and here is my ultimate quarrel with) insist emphatically that their finger exercises merit artistic consideration.  Such consideration, I feel, cannot be given them until they are through with ostentatiously playing scales in the key of C.

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It is a matter of common knowledge that Vulcan, the spouse of Venus, was lame in one leg. So far as I am aware, no one has ever told how he met with this misfortune. Thanks to my researches into Pompilius the Younger's monumental and little-known work on The Domestic Life of the Gods, I am for the first time able to offer an adequate explanation for Vulcan's deformity.

 It all goes back to one quiet evening at home on Olympus. Venus and Vulcan were sitting in front of the fire, he twiddling his toes before the blaze, and she stringing beads of lapis-lazuli into some lovely thing.

 After a long silence, Vulcan spoke. "Do you know, dovey," he said, "I have just heard of a new way of making pictures."

 "Indeed?" said Venus absently, slightly wrinkling her lovely brow over her bead work.

 "Yes," said Vulcan. "It seems one draws the picture with light instead of with a stylus."

"But are not all pictures painted so?" remarked Venus sentimentally.  "... By the light that never was on land or sea?"

 "Eh?" said Vulcan.

"Nothing. Just a thought. Pray proceed."

 "I wish you wouldn't interrupt me, darling," said Vulcan irritably.  "Where was I? ... Yes. One makes pictures with a black box and a burning glass and a few odds and ends of chemicals."

 "Pictures?" said Venus skeptically. "What sort of pictures?"

 "Damn good pictures," said Vulcan. "Pictures that look like what they are supposed to be. Not the sort of pictures that this Apelles paints, leaving out a lot of things that any fool would know were there. Now, I could make a picture " He broke off.  "Just why are you smiling in that nasty way?"

 "Oh, Vulcan." she said in slightly smothered tones, "you make a picture?"

 "Why not?" said Vulcan defensively.  "I understand chemistry and physics and optics. Furthermore, I am a good blacksmith.'' He paused.  "For one as lovely as yourself, sweetheart,'' he said, with ominously careful self-control, "you have a most annoying laugh."

 Venus, past reply, waved her hands helplessly.

 "You don't think I could?" he stormed. "Why, I could take a picture of our back fence that would look almost as much like a back fence as our back fence does?"

 A strangled shriek was Venus' only comment.

Vulcan lunged to his feet, his black beard bristling. "Very well," he shouted. "I'll show you. I'll show you, by Jove. I'll take a picture. I will take a picture, if I break a leg doing it." So saying, he stamped out of the room. Venus sighed, wiped her streaming eyes, and returned to her beadwork.

Two days later Vulcan clumped into her presence on crutches. "Precious lamb." said Venus, springing up, "what have you done to your leg?"

 "Oh. damn my leg." said Vulcan, loftily. "Look at this?" And proudly he thrust into her hands a picture.

 "Why. to be sure." said Venus after a moment, "this is your dear old demi-john isn't it? And surely this is a cabbage. And here is an egg."  She smiled at him.  "How terribly clever you are. darling."

... And that, my friends, is how Vulcan broke his leg.