At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless; Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is ~

T.S.Eliot.

I took this photograph quite a few years ago. I think I was in my second year with a company performing dance and mime for children in schools...so it must have been early 1964 - certainly the steam from the cup shows that it wasn't the middle of summer. We were having our tea-break and I noticed Liz sitting in a pool of light. I remember asking her to move her chair slightly so that I could get her shadow 'just right' in the outline of the window-frame.

Monochrome has always been my favourite medium; sometimes colour can distract from graphic impact. At the time I was experimenting with a 35mm monochrome reversal film that produced black and white slides. The tonal range as seen on-screen through a projector was fantastic, but sadly the original slide has gone - it may turn up someday, but I doubt it.

The picture stayed in slide format for a couple of years, until I took a lecturing job and stopped (for a while at least) the endless touring that goes hand in hand with theatre work. At last a had some stability and a base in which I could set up an enlarger and all the paraphernalia that went hand in hand with being a 'serious' photographer.

 

A 'serious' photographer I certainly was...I became more intolerant of burnt-out highlights and muddy shadows - each photo-opportunity became a struggle with the thought of 'would I take the shot' or would I indeed have to spend many hours in the darkroom, 'burning' and 'shading' with little pieces of cotton-wool or cardboard...or cut- rectangles of card, in order to bring all the extremes of tonal range within the capabilities of photographic paper.

 

So I stopped taking photographs 'just for the fun of it' and restricted my photo-sessions to subjects or subject-matter that I thought would be worth the time spent. In some ways it was good...I restricted the amount of shots I made  of each photo...if I could get the shot in three or even one 'click' so much the better. I do that now - and I do think it helps the standard of my work. Today's digital freedom to shoot as many frames as needed - irrespective of cost - has resulted in a spray-shot approach. Lets face it; it costs nothing to do 20, 30, or even 100 frames of one shot, in order to get 'the one' - in the 60's film was relatively expensive - not to mention photo-paper - so an economical approach was needed.

 

I loved the smell of developing solution...and the hypo-crystal 'fixer' that made the film or print secure against natural light. The red (or later, yellow) darkroom lamp had  all the excitement of Halloween - and I loved to emerge from my gloomy bathroom (Liz would have to knock on the door to go the the loo)  with the latest dripping photo-result.

 

So back to the photo...As I said, it was taken in monochrome, in 35mm slide format. Around that time, I found a supplier of photo-negative film; less sensitive than 'normal' stock but of very fine grain and I was able to sandwich my original frame of Liz with a piece of negative film, expose it to light and create a negative from which the final print was created. The print was done on Agfa paper and dry-mounted on a 10 " x 8" board...

...and there it stayed for 46 years until now. Using my 'advanced' technique of propping a photo on the dining-room table and shooting it afresh in digital, I re-recorded the photograph and reproduced it here. Even now I like it so much - perhaps because it holds so many good memories for me. Goodness knows how much better it would have looked if I had been able to work from the original, in which the pattern of the floor tiles were fully visible, in the brightest part of the  sunny patch.

best wishes

henry

 

PS: A word about 'grain' - photoshop tries, but nothing can really emulate 'grain', which is the visible trace of the chemical crystal formation of light-sensitive film. Some films were and are very 'fine-grain' and good for landscapes. Other film rated, '400' or '800' or indeed '1600' become very grainy at big enlargements - I loved it. I also regret the absence of tobacco-smoke. We might be a healthier world, but smoke-laden air was a photographic joy - the light became visible, thus making each shot so much more atmospheric. There is some smoke in the air in the photo above and I think it adds to the atmosphere...if not to the health of those in it. We have...for a time at least, passed the era of the smoky nightclub shots...I regret that - but everything has it's season.

 

However (and still on the subject of grain) digital photography has at least allowed me to enlarge sections of a print that I could not have afforded to do, back in the days of Elvis, Kennedy and Flower Power - and so I discovered a photograph within a photograph...

 

...which brings me back to Liz. Even then I saw a life within her that was very special. I find her so photographable and it was a joy to be able to enlarge the centre of the photograph and find a beautifully grainy, and previously unseen portrait...

not everything that is new is bad..

pps: I couldn't see Liz the first time I met her as my face was covered in Plaster of Paris, which was setting quickly - so I couldn't even respond to her giggling. But I liked her laugh and I wanted to know what she looked like. The Plaster of Paris was for a mask that was being created on me, for a Ballet we performed in - called "Stillpoint"

 

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