10 years ago when I first put up the F6 Project I was re-invigorated with passion for film photography, the camera, and this new journey I had embarked on: stepping off the digital camera merry-go-round onto solid, analogue ground once again: film, and the film way. Putting up the F6 Project felt like a good way to express and share that excitement by inviting others into it along the way.
I’m not sorry I did. The F6 Project has opened the door to connect with many other like-minded photographers around the world, many of which I’ve enjoyed regular correspondence with since. But after 10 years I’ve had enough and am ready to simplify life.
I haven’t written anything in months and honestly – am out of things to say. And for the record – I’m not stepping away from the F6 Project because I’ve stepped away from the F6. I still believe the F6 is simply the best 35mm film camera ever made. By anyone. Over the past 10 years however, I’ve added back at least one sample of all the single digit F-series cameras… kind of a bucket list thing… and truly enjoy shooting every one of them. I don’t think I could ever explain why – if the F6 is the greatest camera ever made – I still continue to reach for the other 5 F’s. The uncomplicated reason is, it pleases me to do so.
1967 Land Rover, Santa Fe, New Mexico. Nikon F6 + Nikkor 35-70 push/pull zoom, Velvia 50.
But time marches on. Though I still get questions now and again regarding the F6 from the site, the majority of contact these days is from SEO’s who want to put it on page 1 of google. So I can experience even more pressure of having nothing new to talk about. I watch activity in facebook groups of people posting pictures of their cameras and, while I remember that phase of it all, find myself clicking off to other things rather quickly, completely uninterested. I believe (but can’t prove) many of these groups are underwritten by manufacturer’s attempting to promote and create lust for their brands, and ignite a buying frenzy. Then I realize that in effect – I’m one of those people, having devoted an entire web site to it, rationalizing it by having never taken a cent of revenue for it. And don’t even get me started on the bot-infested, purchased followers, algorithmic chaos of Instagram. The marketing juggernaut the internet and social media has become is just not my thing. I don’t want to try harder. I don’t want to compete for page impressions. I just want to be left alone to shoot photographs, on film, with my F’s.
As Kodak releases its new film and the camera companies fight to stay alive with this new mirrorless initiative – it’s anybody’s guess what the next 5-10 years holds. It will come and go regardless of me and what I do. I truly hope camera manufacturers find a way to remain relevant. I’ll admit though that it’s an uphill slog, especially if they’re target marketing someone like me who’s perfectly content making photography with tools that were created anywhere from 15 to 50 years ago.
So there it is – the final post to the F6 Project. Thank you to everyone from around the world who has sent encouragement over the last 10 years. It’s impossible to describe the warmth and reward that personal contact brought each time. It has always been for and about you, and I’m grateful for that.
VSOP 67, Santa Fe, New Mexico. Nikon F6 + Nikkor 35-70 push/pull zoom, Velvia 50.
I pondered which photograph to end with, and decided on this image of an old, 1967 Land Rover as the perfect parting shot. VSOP is short for Very Superior Old Pale, a grade label for specially aged brandy. In many ways it (the vintage Land Rover and its demarcation as VSO – not the brandy) represents aspects of me I choose to preserve, embrace and advance. Turns out I have a thing for Very Superior Old things; things possessing something other than the transitory value of so many of today’s mass commodities. Nothing lasts forever – not even this old Land Rover. But with any luck the Very Superior Old F6 will last a good, long time and make photographs well into its senior years, following the example set by his older siblings.
See ya’ out there.
Lava Cliffs Triptych, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. Photographed with the venerable Nikkor 180mm ƒ2.8 AI-S prime lens.
Not long ago I decided to spend some focused time shooting Ilford’s PanF 50 Plus. In an effort to minimize variables the decision was made to focus on 35mm using the trusted and favored F6. The F6’s venerable meter virtually eliminates exposure error, and I really wanted to dial in +/-EV, development time, agitation, grain, scanning, wet-printing, etc. The decision was also made to use exclusively Ilford’s DDX developer. What follows are the results. The executive summary: I have ordered lots more Ilford PanF50 Plus film for an upcoming trip to Santa Fe where I’ll look forward to continuing this ‘experiment,’ though I now feel quite comfortable that PanF is all I could hope for in a 35mm film.
frame 22: Laval Cliffs, RMNP, Colorado. 180mm f2.8 Ai-S, PanF50+, DDX 1:4 by the book: 68° for 8 minutes.
I’m not really a numbers guy. I mean – I am – but don’t perseverate over them. I like to use numbers as a starting point; get things figured out, then use that knowledge to extrapolate as I shoot. I’m not one of these people that tweaks and tracks every variable just to reconstruct later. Ilford made recommendations on their film based on good authority. I’m not one to second guess. My interest in numbers is really searching for a baseline – then (rather unscientifically) adjusting exposure based on the scene. If in doubt, bracket (but I hate wasting film). If I think it’s going to be an especially worthwhile shot I’ll bracket – but usually trust in the flexibility of film and the F6’s infallible meter.
Mammatus Cumulus Clouds, Fort Collins, Colorado. June 18, 2018. Ilford PanF50 shot at ISO50, 50mm ƒ1.4D @ƒ5.6, 1/125 sec. Nikkor Y48 Yellow Filter. Development: DDX 1:4 by the book; 68° for 8 minutes.
Something I have been doing a lot lately is working with filters. Yellow, orange and a couple different reds. Being a Nikkor devotee (and making no apologies for it) – I have a nice assortment of vintage 52mm Nikkor filters I use use regularly – especially when shooting my old pre Ai, Ai and Ai-S lenses. More and more I’m prone to favoring these smaller, lighter primes over hauling around the big-barreled, gold-ringed f2.8 zooms with 77mm filter threads I was infatuated with with in my ‘earlier years.’ I also have a nice set of 58mm B+W F-Pro’s for the Mamiya 645 rig I’ll use with a step-up ring if needed. Usually one of the 52mm Nikkor filters does the trick though.
Where I was experiencing some interesting results was using the deep red B+W F-Pro filter. It’s super dark – darker than the Nikkor R60 Red. Here’s what Schneider says about it on their site: “Compared to the lighter 090 red filter, this one even darkens the reds near the yellow tones in the spectrum, as its transparency only begins in the orange-red region. It produces dramatic effects and extreme tonal separation for graphic effects. That accounts for the large filter factor of appr. 8.” It’s so dark, focusing is sometimes made difficult. And when you shoot a ISO50 film you’re really needing a tripod to get an aperture that’ll provide adequate Depth Of Field. But the real ‘problem’ (if you want to call it that) is, it darkens any greenish vegetation to the near black range. This isn’t something I’m typically after. Enter the Nikkor Y48 Yellow. Especially when working off the hand, I find it just right to deepen tones in the sky and increase separation, but leave other elements largely as is. A bump to deepen midtones, minimal light loss and a relatively unchanged TTL experience.
Lava Cliffs, no.5, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. 180mm f2.8Ai-S, Ilford Pan F50, DDX 1:4 by the book; 68° for 8 minutes.
Not long ago I acquired the lovely, ancient 180mm f2,8 AI-s. I have long been a fan of shooting landscapes with telephoto lenses – but upon close inspection, anything shot with the 70-200VR has been somewhat disappointing. Not to mention its size and weight being a deterrent. The 180 f2.8 solves all those issues and then some. Mounted on the F6, this ancient lens benefits from the F6’s ability to dial in Non-CPU Lenses. Doing so while working with the lens allows the correct shooting information to be recorded in the shooting data for that frame. The 180 has no tripod socket because it doesn’t need one. The L-bracket on the camera is more than sufficient to hold its relatively light weight. The one negative is I’m not about to invest in a set of 72mm filters for it and have to carry them around too. So when I’m shooting the 180 I’m going so with the rectangular front-slide-in filters.
Unnamed trail above treeline, Old Fall River Road, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. 50mm f1.4D, Ilford Pan F50, Nikkor Y48 yellow filter, DDX 1:4 by the book; 68° for 8 minutes
Snow, Old Fall River Road, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. 50mm f1.4D, Ilford Pan F50, Nikkor Y48 yellow filter, DDX 1:4 by the book; 68° for 8 minutes
Alpine Ridge Trail, Trail Ridge Road, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. 50mm f1.4D, Ilford Pan F50, Nikkor Y48 yellow filter, DDX 1:4 by the book; 68° for 8 minutes
and a few PanF50 Plus shots from the past to show a little more diversity:
San Luis, Colorado. Nikon F2, Nikkor 50mm 1.2 Ai-S. DDX 1:4 by the book: 68° for 8 minutes.
Bisti Wings, Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness, New Mexico. Ilford Pan F50, 28-70 f2.8ED @70mm, f7.1@1/60 sec. (-0.2EV) DDX 1:4 by the book: 68° for 8 minutes.
Valley of the Gods National Monument, Utah. 28-70 f2.8ED @42mm, 1/1.6 sec @ f16 (+1.7EV). DDX by the book: 1:4, 68° for 8 minutes. Something else I routinely love about the F6 is the ability to go back and review shooting data. In the above shot, for example, I was amazed to realize the frame was made at +1.7EV.
The amount of detail and resolution PanF50 holds is remarkable. Without moving to my medium format system, PanF50 provides all I need when exposed, processed and scanned properly. Like other ‘high performance’ films, it’s not as flexible as say a TriX. But getting to know and understand it is well worth the time. I’ve ordered a bunch more for an upcoming trip to New Mexico in July.
Champs Elysees, France 1957
For the past few months I’ve been working on scanning/archiving slides for my family. It’s a big job – many hundreds of a mixture of very old (late 1950’s) to just sort of old – made in the last few decades.
Gornergrat, Switzerland 1957
Several reoccurring thoughts travel my mind as I sit before the screen, inserting slides, waiting for focus, scanning the slides, and naming them in some orderly fashion so we’re actually able to find them once scanned.
Place de la Concorde, Paris, 1957
One is, I’m sure glad we have these images. They are the closest thing to a time machine I’m aware of. The other night I was looking at photographs of the Zurmatt Curling Club in Switzerland, circa 1957. Wow… talk about a blast from the past. My father took a trip to Europe after getting out of the army in the late 50’s. He and his Kodak Retina documented the countryside well and now, 60 years later, I’m seeing what he saw. That’s pretty cool.
Goat Cart and Children, Paris, 1957
Another is, as I inspect each slide, many are made on Ektachrome and carry a rather red bias. Thank goodness for the sophisticated software we have available today to bring the very best out of even these ancient (by photographic terms) slides.
Madeline Church, Paris, 1957
I wonder how much longer the film will continue to carry an image? The slides have been stored properly and meticulously labeled providing ample information to name and describe them. Though these images have remained intact for many years, there will come a time they’ll fade away to nothing. Everything has a life span and nothing lasts forever. Digitally archiving them while they’re still viable is a good use of time and energy.
View of Paris from Arc de Triomphe, 1957
I’m grateful for on-line sharing services like zenfolio, of which I’ve been a part of since 2007, allowing such easy archiving and custom, private sharing of these and other images with select audiences. Sharing these images with family members across the globe with a few clicks is easy, cost-effective and painless. And the delight it brings those is real.
Horses and Sleigh, Zermatt, Switzerland, 1957
I think about how there are really no shortcuts. To get the most out of each frame, the image needs to be scanned, optimized, color adjusted and cropped at a decent enough resolution to cover what might be asked of them in the future. I’ve decided on a modest resolution of about 2,700 px on the longest dimension, rather than the full 5,000+ to save some time – and also predicting not many (if any) images will ever be enlarged great than 8″ x 10″.
Arc de Triomphe, France, 1957
I purchased my Nikon Super CoolScan 5000 some time around 2008. I remember driving to Denver in a snow storm and buying – new – the last one on the shelf at Wolf Camera for something like $1,000. The kids in the store looked at me like I was nuts. “Don’t you know about digital cameras?” their smirking eyes said as I walked out the door with my prize. I’ve seen LS-5000’s at auction for upwards of $2K. It’s a great scanner – providing you use the right software with it. But that’s another post.
Subway Poster, Paris, 1957
I’m grateful for this moment in time where we as photographers have the ability to choose from the affordable overabundance of such exquisite high-end picture making gear what tools to work with. I’m grateful for the advanced technology available today to get the absolute most out of every frame shot – from scanning software to post-processing editing tools, Digital Asset Management tools and on-line sharing tools. I’m grateful for long-stored analog film in the freezer as well as all-new emulsions rolling off the production lines of Kodak and others.
Asked and answered: moving forward, the F6 is king.
With the question of what camera to trust finally settled on once and for all, I’m grateful for my F6, which I fully expect to be clicking away many years from now, its corners and rubber grip worn, with a roll-count well into the thousands.
Statue of Liberty, NY on Kodachrome. Date unknown.
The attributes of film endure, providing us with the ability to – 60 years from now – look at the world through the lens at this great time to be a film photographer.
~ Desert Rat ~
(lyrics by Michael Martin Murphy)
Valley of the Gods National Monument, Utah (2016). Nikon F6 + AF-S NIKKOR 17-35mm 1:2.8D ED + Ilford PanF50+ at ISO50. Developed in Ilford DDX @ 1:4 for 8 minutes. Scanned with Nikon Super CoolScan 5000ED.
She sits on the front porch
(Of) the old house that stands scorched
Under the sun stroke of a desert day that choked
Her old man who fell in the sun.
Valley of the Gods National Monument, Utah (2016). Nikon F6 + AF-S NIKKOR 70-200mm 1:2.8G ED + Green filter + Ilford PanF50+ at ISO125. Developed in Ilford DDX @ 1:4 for 8 minutes. Scanned with Nikon Super CoolScan 5000ED. /em>
With rattle snakes and keep sakes
Old boxes of Corn Flakes
Grammar phones and gem stones
And three unclaimed door frames
And bleached bones and rocks by the ton.
Valley of the Gods National Monument, Utah (2016). Nikon F6 + AF-S NIKKOR 28-70mm 1:2.8D ED + Ilford PanF50+ at ISO50. Developed in Ilford DDX @ 1:4 for 8 minutes. Scanned with Nikon Super CoolScan 5000ED.
Good by ol’ desert rat
Ya half crazy wild cat
You knew where it was at
What life’s all about.
Valley of the Gods National Monument, Utah (2016). Nikon F6 + AF-S NIKKOR 28-70mm 1:2.8D ED + Ilford PanF50+ at ISO50. Developed in Ilford DDX @ 1:4 for 8 minutes. Scanned with Nikon Super CoolScan 5000ED. Color in the top 4 images is not a faux sepia tone – it’s what happens when the scanning software scans black and white films as color. My fixer was getting a little old so there’s a slight cast to the negatives. I left it for these top images thinking it added something to the overall feel.
Ya saver of catalogs, king of the prairie dogs
Success is survival and you toughed it out,
You toughed it out.
Old Bridge and San Juan River, Mexican Hat, Utah (2016). Nikon F6 + AF-S NIKKOR 28-70mm 1:2.8D ED + Ilford FP4+ at ISO125. Developed in Ilford DDX @ 1:4 for 10 minutes. Scanned with Nikon Super CoolScan 5000ED.
The old loud mouth rock hound
He kept the kids spellbound
Half crazy and sun baked
Ya eared your own grubstake
By breakin’ your back all day long
San Juan Trading Post, Mexican Hat, Utah (2016). Nikon F6 + AF-S NIKKOR 28-70mm 1:2.8D ED + Ilford FP4+ at ISO125. Developed in Ilford DDX @ 1:4 for 10 minutes. Scanned with Nikon Super CoolScan 5000ED.
With junk art and dunk carts
Old Model T parts, frustrated, outdated and uneducated
At eighty you still wrote good songs.
Montezuma Creek, Utah (2016). Niikon F6 + AF-S NIKKOR 28-70mm 1:2.8D ED + Ilford FP4+ at ISO125. Developed in Ilford DDX @ 1:4 for 10 minutes. Scanned with Nikon Super CoolScan 5000ED.
So goodbye of Ol’ Desert Rat
Ya half crazy wild cat
You knew where it was at
What life’s all about.
San Juan Trading Post, Mexican Hat, Utah (2016). Nikon F6 + AF-S NIKKOR 28-70mm 1:2.8D ED + Ilford FP4+ at ISO125. Developed in Ilford DDX @ 1:4 for 8 minutes. Scanned with Nikon Super CoolScan 5000ED.
All ya savers of “Whole Earth” catalogs
Kings of the prairie dogs
Success is survival
We’ll all tough it out
San Juan Trading Post, Mexican Hat, Utah (2016). Nikon F6 + AF-S NIKKOR 28-70mm 1:2.8D ED + Ilford FP4+ at ISO125. Developed in Ilford DDX @ 1:4 for 10 minutes Scanned with Nikon Super CoolScan 5000ED.
Yes, we’ll all tough it out.
Old Bridge Bar and Grille, Mexican Hat, Utah. iPhone 6 panorama.
This map shows the route of our fall trip. The photographs on this page were made within the white circle. Google maps.
I first visited the northern region of the Escalante Staircase area years ago after reading an article on the Burr Trail -but that’s another story. More recently (back in 2007) I hit it from the south, having come up one night from Flagstaff and checked into a hotel in Page, Arizona just off Hwy 89. There was a large canvas hanging on the wall of the lobby and I asked the woman behind the desk where it was from. “Just up the road,” she said, “about 20 miles. It’s not marked or anything, you just pull over the start walking.” So that next day we did just that and what do you know – we found it.
Small, un-obvious ‘Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument’ sign marking the trail head along Hwy 89 North out of Page, Arizona.
This past trip to Page we thought we’d try to find it again. One late afternoon we set out armed with just a memory and full tank of gas. Soon the land began to change into what I vaguely remembered from 10 years prior and I was hopeful. Then, there on the right hand side of the road was the parking area and it all came back to me. It’s more developed now; a half dozen cars at the trail head and a sign informing would-be hikers what they’re about to see. It’s the Grand Staircase, part of the enormous Escalante National Monument.
Different than a National Park, National Monuments have different structures, different protocols. The Escalante National Monument is a truly vast, wild expanse of land sweeping through central Utah. There’s no single entry point per say, but numerous portals from which to enter. Camping is allowed and exploration is encouraged. It is a able-bodied photographer’s dream come true.
Toad Stools, Grand Staircase, Escalante National Monument, Utah. This was the obvious shot presented at the approach to the area. Light was hitting it beautifully and the features were prominently and nicely presented. I walked by it at first knowing I’d return. Thankfully I did return before the shadows at bottom left of the frame swallowed up the grass – which I thought was a quite beautiful green to compliment the rest of the scene’s earthen colors. Nikon F6 + AF-S NIKKOR 17-35mm 1:2.8D + Velvia 50
Grand Staircase, Escalante National Monument, Utah (2016). The “staircase” feature of the Escalante Staircase is series of risers, or elevated plateau regions ranging from the Grand Canyon way south in Arizona to the the 9,000′ edge of Utah’s high plateaus. The ‘steps’ include prominent geologic regions such as Shinarump Cliffs, the Vermilion Cliffs, the White Cliffs, the Gray Cliffs, and the Pink Cliffs. In this shot you can see some of that transition, showing the comparatively whitish layers between the Carmel Formation (in shadow) and the Entrada Sandstone layer ignited by the setting sun. Nikon F6 + AF-S NIKKOR 17-35mm 1:2.8D + Velvia 50.
Toad Stools, Grand Staircase, Escalante National Monument, Utah. Much of the area seems to be in some transition between dirt and rock. Cryptobiotic soil (organic matter that takes many years to grow) is everywhere. Sadly, boot prints trample these hearty organisms constantly, forcing them to start the regeneration process over regularly.
So what does this have to do with the F6? Nothing, really – other than it’s just another place it was with me to record. Ten years ago before purchasing the F6 I was shooting a D2oo. The difference between the two cameras is startling. My friend Dan looked through the F6’s super bright, clear viewfinder and – in comparison to the D750 he was shooting – commented how he wished the D750 had that viewfinder. Funny how we grow accustomed to things and can take them for granted. The viewfinder is one of the features of the F6 I’ve come to rely on most. I’m actually able to see well enough for tasks such as manually focusing and low-light shooting. And compared to the F5, because the focus points light up in red instead of remaining a monotone gray when activated makes everything easier and less distracting when shooting. Yet another reason to love the F6.
To read more about Utah’s Escalante National Monument and Grand Staircase, visit the VisitUtah web site.
In 2007 we called this area “Rim Rocks.” I’m not sure why, or where the name came from. Now it’s part of the Escalante National Monument’s Grand Staircase area. Nikon D200.
One of the things I’ve looked forward to each year since – forever – is my fall trip. This year it was down to the Four Corners area of the US and covered territory in New Mexico, Arizona, Utah then back in Colorado. We visited a handful of awe-inspiring destinations – some for the first time, others back for another go.
Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness, New Mexico
You can do your best to plan a trip well but at the end of the day the ability to roll with whatever is presented yields a better overall experience. Weather, light, crowds and other unforeseen circumstances like car trouble can either crater your objective – or – present opportunities to rise and meet challenges.
When it comes to putting time, money and energy into visiting a specific place with specific goals, there’s one clear choice for me and that’s the F6. In the past I’ve shot a good bit of color at some of these destinations. This year I felt like switching it up a bit and decided to shoot black and white film between rolls of Velvia. Velvia is great stuff – but bright, sun-lit days are not what I’d consider ideal conditions to get the most from it, even with a warming filter.
Alamo Wash, Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness, New Mexio (2016)
The first destination on our stop was the Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness in north western New Mexico. There are two primary washes, or drainages in the Bisti; a north and a south. The northern wash is referred to as Hunter Wash, the southern as the Gateway or Alamo Wash. The main, visible (but primitive) parking area is adjacent to the southern wash. The northern wash takes a little route finding to access but nothing too arduous. Both are fascinating and provide explorers plenty to see with minimal elevation gain. The area is pretty flat – which is a new (and welcome) difference compared to so many other areas requiring a lot of strenuous climbing. It’s almost as if you’re simply going for a walk once you cross the Wilderness Area boundary. To scamper up the hills and ravines is a relatively easy task.
One of the things I realized in my research of the area was how difficult it was to attain a sense of scale while viewing images. I’d see a geological feature and wonder if it were 10 feet tall or a hundred. I’ll leave the mystery to you as well as you view the images. I will say that despite ominous warnings and perceptions that accompany such a remote, designated wilderness such as the Bisti I was pleasantly surprised how accessible and friendly it felt.
Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness, Hunter Wash, New Mexico (2016)
The general layout of the area is these large primary washes run southwest, with many of the interesting features residing in the off-shoot canyons and drainages feeding the main washes. We were a little nervous about getting lost, having read several accounts of people doing so resulting in cold nights spent in the badlands. I found, however, that with basic navigation and orienteering skills getting lost wouldn’t be a problem. We did use the GPS feature of our iPhones as a back up. There’s no cell signal but the GPS functionality of the device works perfectly without it. Yet another reason to love smart phones.
Alamo Wash, Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness, New Mexio (2016)
It was cold that first night and the next morning before dawn we woke at 5am, donned head lamps and headed into the unknown Alamo Wash in the dark looking for a good place to catch first light. The light is the most difficult part of visiting the Bisti, or other badlands areas blessed (?) with so much sun. Harsh bright light and harsh shadows have the photographer praying for cloud cover. Alas – sometimes there’s simply none to be found.
Alamo Wash, Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness, New Mexio (2016)
There were nearly a dozen cars at the trail head by the time we returned from the morning hike. After grabbing a quick bite and watering up we headed into the northern wash searching for the Wings. More to come…
Post Scrip: after this first trip I found a great weather resource that will help plan additional trips. The Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness is a unique and special place worthy of more time and attention.