Photo Log #2: Dreaming in black and white

Wednesday, Feb. 2, 2022, 3:00 PM

“There’s just something about it.”

That’s what I feel like I tell myself when I build those silly scenarios in my head where I have to justify why I like the look of black and white, let alone want to shoot it.

It’s a timeless aesthetic — so strongly rooted in how we imagine the past and now seemingly taking a place as a purely artistic medium ever since color became possible across the recorded visual arts. If one were to look at the production of film and photography on a solely utilitarian sense, then it might seem illogical to want to fall back on a look that for all intents and purposes is obsolete.

But, to some, film photography in general may seem like a nonsensical field to venture into at this point in history, so there really is no reason to explain further when you’re already here I’d say.

In any case, shooting black and white has been something I’d wanted to try since getting into film photography — firstly because the aesthetic and secondly because, frankly, it’s cheaper (thanks, Kodak price jumps).

I’ve been sitting on a roll of Eastman Double-X that I bought when I first got that simple point-and-shoot back in December, but, because it’s still a little pricier, I’ve refrained from shooting it until I’ve got the hang of things a bit more. I’ve also got a roll of Ilford HP5, which seems to be one of the more popular stocks and comes highly recommended across the film community.

But for my first B&W shoot, I opted for what might be considered a budget option: Fomapan 400.

Produced by Czech company Foma Bohemia — in business since 1921 — I’d certainly say there was a historical allure to their line of film stocks for me. I read somewhere that they were one of the main film suppliers for the USSR back in the Cold War era and the traits of the film — particularly its high grain content — really gives it a look straight out of the annals of history.

This is, of course, an easy remedy in Lightroom but not really something I want to have to do a lot of.

It really delivered on this essence in this first roll but, boy, do I have to say: it’s contrasty as hell! I shot at the box speed of 400, but after reading several posts and articles on it, I learned that it is actually perhaps closer to a 320 or even 200-speed film, meaning a lot of my shots ended up underexposed. While I loved a lot of the shots I got (more than I thought I would, in fact), there certainly were several where the subjects kind of got lost in the shadows.

This roll panned out the way I figure many may go for me — shot over the course of days, or even weeks. While that first post I made centered around a roll I shot the total of in one outing, the reality is I usually don’t make the time for full shooting trips, only taking the moments as I can find them on my days off.

For this roll, I started out on a relatively gloomy day — kind of what I had been waiting for to shoot in black and white because I felt the shadows and fog captured that certain noirish quality we all seem to love about old films.

I started out by the shore, hoping to capture the fog out on the sea. I had stopped by the new Cole Park pier some weeks back on a sunnier day — impressed by its revitalization while still repulsed by its hostile architecture, as if the gloss of the new can subtract from the strict control commercial logic places over public space. I did, however, take one of my most favorite shots from this roll — seeing the black and white rocks that buffeted the land from the seawater as something that would naturally render well on this film.

However, the setting was still a bit too new to me. That’s not to say you only have to shoot old stuff with black and white, but I had thoughts in mind of what I wanted to capture and I wasn’t going to find it at the city’s latest tourist attraction.

Keeping with the sense of the past, I took the time to stroll about Heritage Park a bit — taking in the architecture of the old buildings and sense of solitude within the square. There was an odd contingent of cops on motorbikes having a meeting in one of the houses and I occasionally spotted folks working at their desks in some of the buildings but, overall, I felt like I kind of had the park to myself.

I walked a bit around the area and surrounding streets, looking in particular for subjects that might bring about the contrasts that render so well in black and white. See more of these shots in the gallery below.

Subsequent weeks I took my camera with me around town — to the library, to a nearby park, to a favorite nature trail. My mind was keyed largely on what the look of black and white might add to a scene, rather than what was in the scene itself.

I’d seen videos on how to “see the world in black in white” — some of the numerous I watch nightly to fall asleep to. However, I can’t necessarily say I gleaned as much from them as I would from simply my love of the aesthetic over years, particularly in the realm of cinema.

With the great Monica Vitti’s passing earlier this month, I recently watched Michaelangelo Antonioni’s trilogy of L’Avventura, La Notte, and L’Eclisse, and understood anew why the films may have given him a reputation of foregrounding visual beauty before, but not necessarily to the detriment of, plot. How the environment frames the characters of La Notte, further crowding them visually as they wrestle with their own inner turmoil, I found so wonderfully evocative in particular. An argument could perhaps be made as to whether the same emotional effect would have come across in color — I certainly think it could. But again, there’s “just something about it,” and I think that “something” may in part be how deeply we might connect emotionally with an image when we’re forced to reckon with its substance with a bit less noise.

Perhaps this is another reason I gravitate to this medium. A career in cinema was once a dream of mine that I long ago allowed to die, but I still think my creative ambitions owe a debt to that foundation. I think, at times, I may look at some of these photos and feel a strange sense of familiarity, as if encountering a dream as an old friend — one you once held close and inspired you, and to whom you embrace as if you never thought you’d see them again.

Check out more of my favorite shots in the slideshow at the bottom of this post. All developed and scanned by Memphis Film Lab. As usual, thoughts or feedback is welcomed, and enjoy a little playlist to go with this post below.

Until next time.