I grabbed an envelope off the stack at random to open. Frank Gorga, said the return address, from Antrim, New Hampshire—that's a State in our upper Northeast, New England, for those of you who don't live here. Sliding it out of the package and carefully removing the printed matter and the protection sheet, I thought, hmm, this is nice. Seven life points for black and white! Just kidding. Inkjet, but kind of a low-contrast platinum-palladium (Pt/Pd) vibe going on. A church building with simple massing, modeled by the light. Picture has a "deliberately bad lens" look, like a Holga or another kind of toy camera, or maybe even an actual old lens. It reminds me of some prints I made long ago by shooting a color film cassette in an Instamatic 105 and printing the negatives on Panalure...
...And then I though, uh-oh. As you've already seen from the first picture, there's a crimp running horizontally all the way across the page just below the image.
I noticed the stiffener for the envelope had the same crease in a location that matched. At first I thought the soft, heavy paper might just have been been pressed into the stiffener cardboard, as it would be under a pile of packages, say, and had simply picked up the defect in the cardboard; that can happen. But when I examined the manilla envelope, I saw a faint mirror of the same bend in the envelope. So the whole envelope was bent en route, and then probably straightened out again by somebody who thought they'd fixed it.
So the print did not survive the mail. Ruined.
But since the image area of the picture was not affected, let's go ahead and look at the print anyway, and pretend the crease isn't there.
The first obvious thing is the quality of the paper. It's got a nice deckle edge which you can see here. This snap probably gives you a good idea of the "tooth" or textured surface of the paper, but I did another shot anyway using the phone's Magnifier feature—click the Home button on an iPhone three times rapidly and you're in the magnifier, a softpedaled but often useful feature.
This is magnified about halfway, and well above 1:1.
The paper seemed like a front-and-center feature of this print, so I held it up to the window to see if there was a watermark:
There it is...Johannot, along with the familiar elongated infinity symbol of Arches, which has been making paper since Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue. You can also see Frank's penciled notes on the back showing through, but these aren't visible except in backlight.
Finally to the print. The illustration emphasizes some black speckling, which are indeed there in the print, but I had to go back and look at the print to make sure; they're not really part of the visual impression. The tones are nice; the image is mostly very soft, both in detail and tonality. There are a few sharp lines near the optical axis, but the image is quite blurry as it get toward the corners, and the corners are vignetted too. Again, the snapshot illustration emphasizes the vignetting a little more than the impression in person.
I'm not really too fond of what might be called generic picturesque subjects, but then, a lot of people like such subjects. It's a mistake to believe that criticism is "just a matter of taste"; actually I find I can be a little more objective about things that do not fall under the sort of approach that I tend to favor. If I can find one thing to criticize, it's a feature of the nature of inkjet that I've noticed before. Pt/Pd prints are widely admired as having a look of what's called, for lack of a better term, "depth," a sense that somehow the image is in the fibers of the paper; when well done, it can seem almost like light is emanating from the sheet as well. In my experience, soft- or low-contrast inkjets subtly impart the opposite impression, namely that the image is sitting on top of the paper, as if transferred to it rather than in it, and they can look just a bit flat or dead. A little like a pencil drawing, if you will. Frank's print has a bit of that, to my eye. But then, maybe he likes and prefers that; different printers like different effects, and there's no right or wrong except for each of us as individuals. I don't mind it. It brings out the "design" of the picture more than the "thereness" of the subject.
Good size; I wouldn't want to see an image so basic rendered too large. It's big enough to beckon you from the wall, and small enough to draw you in to look at it up close.
Nice picture; nice print. I think this one's a success.
At that point I picked up the the page I had set aside earlier and turned to Frank's written comments...
The backstory from the photographer
...And things immediately got even more interesting. Turns out it was an old lens—a very old one, a "simple single meniscus lens in a brass tube"—on a camera obscura, no less. And the picture is a digital capture of the image on the camera obscura's groundglass. Very cool.
In case you don't know, the camera obscura was the immediate precursor of the camera. It's like a view camera with no movements save an in-and-out adjustment for focus, and no provision for a film holder. There was usually a mirror in the box to rectify the image, although it was still reversed laterally, like a TLR viewfinder.
So Frank's picture encompasses aspects of very early as well as current photography! Neat. (For those of you who don't know me, "neat" is a term of rare approbation in my critical theory.) The camera obscura was essentially what spurred the invention of photography—it occurred to numerous people simultaneously that the image cast by the lens, which artists sometimes used to trace images from nature, should somehow be captured directly.
Frank confirmed his use of traditional printmaking paper, saying, "most of my printing these days is done with paper not specifically coated for inkjet printing." He used an Epson P800 in ABW mode.
He says he is of "that old 'it ain't done until it is printed' school of photography," and goes on to tell us that up to half his printing these days consists of cyanotypes that he tones to "eggplant black" along with the occasional salt print or Van Dyke brown print. But he gave up silver printing a long time ago, as he "simply gets better results more easily via the inkjet printer."
I enjoyed living with this this past week, the crease be damned. Good work and thanks, Frank. Into the Readers' Prints archival box it goes. Or will go, once the box arrives.
Mike
Every weekend I'll show you an original print and say whatever might come to mind about it. After one "Print Crit" is published, I'll pick another envelope at random from the stack and open that one, then live with it for the week before writing about it.
Feel free to share your own opinion of the picture in the Comments if you like, but bear in mind that the photographer is "in the room" and will see your comment.
Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:
Clayton Ravsten: "I love the photograph. And the methodology...Mr. Gorga not only is thinking outside the box, but he burned the box down. Love it!"
Frank Gorga: "Thanks so much! I am honored to have my work featured in the inaugural Print Crit. Sorry about the crease...you would think that good stiff corrugated cardboard would be enough, but the folks at the USPS obviously just take that as a challenge. Next time I'll try a piece of iron!
"As for your comment on the size of my print...I find that images from the camera obscura really start to 'fall apart' when printed larger than nine inches square and that the six and a half inch square size is really the sweet spot for most images. In general, I like my prints on the smaller side. A preference that comes, I think, from my earliest days in photography (circa 1970) when all I could afford was to contact print my 4x5 negatives."
Scott: "I know you were hoping to do this via video, and perhaps you still will. But you should know your written version communicated to me a deep understanding of how you perceived this print. Well done! And I like the print as well."
Wozcraft: "Interesting technique. Sad about the crease but it reminds me of the photographer who found a crumpled envelope in his letter box on which the sender had written 'Photographs Do Not Bend' and underneath scrawled in pencil were the words 'Oh yes they do!'"
Dennis Ng: "A very good idea for your blog."
Mike: Glad to hear you think so. Thank you for the feedback.