De Ferschter made this quiescent scene using a Zero Image 4×5 with a single frame added for a focal length of 50mm, with Fomapan 100 film. The way these trees stand apart, like 5 good friends, makes for such a strong composition.
You can find more of De Ferschter’s work on Flickr.
Artūras Meškauskas, a Lithuanian photographer from the city of Panevezys, made this wonderful image with his homemade pinhole camera that he fashioned from a Twinings Tea tin and expired Ektar 100. I’ve got to say his appears to be the best tea tin camera I’ve seen. This scene was captured in 2014 on an autumn holiday in Gran Canaria.
You can find more of Artūras’s work on Flickr and Facebook.
May 13: We covered some tips on how to be more mobile with your pinhole gear, because having your pinhole cameras with you is the first step to pinholing more!
May 20: Guest author Delio Ansovini contributed a wonderful article about camera geometry, and how understanding it can help you get a grip on your composition.
Collin Orthner made this wonderful image while traveling through Alberta. It has a great backstory from Collin himself:
This old Mercury truck was found on an old farm south of Brooks, Alberta, near Rolling Hills. It was a creepy place too! My travelling partner Michael Chesworth went exploring the old farmhouse and discovered old bank deposit slips from the early fifties, and an old shot up television that had only the original dial that let you choose one of thirteen channels. I remember being a kid watching our old B&W TV that had this same sort of dial, unfortunately, we couldn’t even make use of the dial as we had the luxury of getting only one channel! So, if we didn’t like what was on we were back outside riding our bikes or playing hockey on the local rink, depending on the season of course. Anyways, back to this farm, there was no sign anywhere at the start of the dirt laneway indicating “No Trespassing” so we felt OK checking it out. This truck was one of three in the yard and the one I liked making images of the best. I made a lot of close-ups of the patina of the metal with my digital camera, but really felt a pinhole image would add a sense of being in a dream and also would give some indication of how I was feeling in this farmyard. It really makes you think about who it was that lived there and why it was left in the state it was. Someone had a full life here and we only got to see a few remnants of it. I would have to think it wasn’t a creepy existent either, but just the way things have gone since whomever it was departed, left us feeling a bit unsettled. This image was made with a ten minute exposure with my camera mounted to my tripod and awkwardly arranged just inside the cab of the truck. I thought my meter was out to lunch indicating such a long exposure, but here you are, and it was rather dark in the shadows of the cab. An hour or so later we hit the highway to a new destination still heading further south.
Chris Bird made this image during the week long Archaeological dig organised by the Rhynie Woman artists collective In the village of Rhynie in Aberdeenshire. He asked the archaeologists to gather around a pinhole camera made from an empty sweet tin containing a paper negative that was place on the floor. The group managed to stay still for the five minute exposure – must be something about the patience required to be an archaeologist.
Paul Griffin made this image in the bottom of an abandoned swimming pool using his Eight Banners 6×9 loaded with Kodak Portra 160. As indicated by the title, he made this for WWPD. He made this image using what he refers to as “Photoshop in camera”: overlapping the 6×9 exposures as he moves through the 120 roll. This gives him a slight bit of unpredictability while also providing a fair bit of creative choice in which images to use.
You can find more of Paul’s work on his Flickr page.
Angel Rueda made this wonderful capture with his pinhole camera leveled into the sun and perfectly aligned with the symmetry of the scene. The effect is an almost overwhelming sense of light and warmth.
Chien Wenwei made this moody capture in Nantou, Taiwan of a stand of trees that have been overtaken by the floodwaters; with the absolute stillness of the water adds to the feeling of abandonment.
More of Chien’s work can be found on Flickr or Facebook.
Many of us who’ve been around photography for much time at all have been introduced to the concept of the Golden Hour – that time just after sunrise and just before sunset. The light during this time can be truly amazing, and has served as the drama of numerous photos over the years.
The challenge for us pinholers though, is that our cameras often require a longer exposure during these times of day. Moreover, as the exposure time increases, the intensity of the sunlight can change rapidly, leading to complexities in our exposure. The effect can be compounding, especially on slower capture methods such as paper negatives.
In my photo, Elliott Bay at Dusk, I had my Zero Image 4×5 loaded with a paper negative and pointed at a scene that originally metered at a 5 minute exposure. By the time I was done shooting, the scene was metering at 20 minutes. Overall I exposed for 15 minutes and got a result I’m quite happy with, albeit with quite a bit of nailbiting for that 15 minutes.
For this article we want to learn a bit about working with the light during these challenging times of the day, and I decided to interview Eddie Erdmann for his insights. A quick look at Eddie’s Flickr profile shows that he’s quite adept at shooting pinholes during sunrise and sunset, and can speak with a bit of “been there, done that” authority on the matter.
Do you have a specific amount of time before sunset or after sunrise that you find works best?
It varies. Sometimes the best part of a sunset occurs before the sun is down, and sometimes it occurs well after the sun has dropped below the horizon. If I have a particular location in mind for shooting the sunset, I will try to arrive 30 minutes to an hour before the sun goes down so I can watch and wait for the scene to unfold. In Alaska sunsets can last for a very long time in the summer, so when shooting a sunset here at that time of year, I may end up hanging out for a couple hours. When I’m in the Lower 48, particularly on the Gulf Coast, sunsets are fairly quick because the sun goes down at a much sharper angle. Sometimes I don’t even bother to take my cameras out of my bag because the sunset isn’t especially inspiring. When I’m shooting sunrises, I employ the same 30-minutes-to-an-hour approach. I find that the best moments occur from 30 minutes prior to 30 minutes after the sun rises.
How do you meter for a sunrise or sunset?
I usually spot-meter an area of the scene that I estimate should fall within the middle range of brightness values and go with that exposure time. Usually I choose a cloud that isn’t catching the full rays of the sun. If I’m shooting with Fuji Velvia, I tend to spot-meter some of the brightest parts of the scene as well so as not to blow out the highlights too much. When shooting with Kodak Ektar or black-and-white film, I don’t worry so much about that.
Do you adjust your exposure time as the light changes?
I usually decide on an exposure time before I open the shutter. I determine this time by metering, compensating for reciprocity if necessary and then tacking on a few extra seconds (or as much as a minute or more for longer exposures) to accommodate the diminishing light of the sunset (or subtracting a few seconds for a sunrise). I find that rough approximations do just fine when working with long exposure times.
Do you find that you need to adjust for reciprocity in the middle of an exposure?
If I determine that the scene will require an exposure time that will require me to take into consideration the film’s reciprocity characteristics, then I will do so, but I really don’t think about this once I’ve opened the shutter. I meter the scene, and if necessary I consult my film’s reciprocity data to decide how much I need to adjust the exposure. Then I open the shutter for the amount of time that I’ve determined would be best. A good thing about pinhole photography is that because the exposure times tend to be pretty long, you really don’t have to worry about being terribly exact. I don’t spend a lot of time calculating exposure times. Usually, it takes me only a few seconds to meter the scene, consult a reciprocity-failure chart (actually, at this point, I rarely look at charts–I use only a few different types of film, and I have a decent understanding of their reciprocity) and perform a simple calculation in my head.
We thank Eddie for taking some time out of his hectic schedule to help us capture the amazing light that exists at these times of the day. Hopefully some of this experienced input helps our readers to take advantage of the changing sunlight! Do you have additional questions? If so, put them in the comments and we’ll follow up with Eddie to respond back to you!
Dave Symonds photographed this harsh scene with his Zero Image 6×9 on Ilford FP4 film. The long tonality of this scene from Carrick Bay South West Scotland helps to really bring you into the vastness of what the harsh processes that brought this area to be.