Gibson: Rodinal + Tri-X

Venerable members of the silver brigade. Marched photography from the hallways to the white walls; from the basement to the main gallery. Art words began to be understood, and refined by photographers during the 60s and 70s. Ralph Gibson was a promoter, a vagabond, a troubadour for photography. Mainly the book, that area he mastered, and mentored through his Lustrum Press.

A mix of techniques, craft skill along with image skills. The walkway and the walk. Path and walker.

“The reason I publish under Lustrum is the same as my attitude towards the frame,” Gibson says. “I want all the credit, all the blame, complete and total autonomy.”

Ralph Gibson’s early method was using Tri-X shot at 100 to 400, processed in Rodinal 1:25 for 11 minutes, agitation by rolling tank on its side 10 seconds every 90 seconds. He printed using Brovira 111, Nos. 4 and 5 in Dektol 1:1 for 2 to 3 minutes. No toning. Dry between blotters.

That was then. These days digital. Lustrum thrives as does Ralph Gibson (at 83, b.1939 – ).

“Digital Color— at Leica Gallery Los Angeles on January 17 (2019), the day after his 80th birthday—features images created entirely with digital cameras”

“Digital responded to the way my eye sees the world in a very emphatic, ineluctable way,” Gibson says. “Very few people get a chance to reinvent themselves when they’re 75.”

Making Light

The obvious is overlooked. Our baselines aren’t noticeable. Seems and stitiches.

by definition: photography is about the light

How is it that the most photographed subject among the online film groups is landscape? A term they use without getting to its original meaning. In fact that original meaning is a touchy subject. When everyone photographs the same things, taking on the grandview established by the master — what room remains for their simplistic, simplified, scenic overlook version, but to think in process. Change the process; change your life, or at least keep moving toward the light.

By the light of the moon
they rhyme with spoon
will their prints come soon

“My photographs are all about the light.” — Yes, dear, aren’t they all.

In that vein, they work. Theme is often difficult; tough to understand. Over the course of a decade the personage modified his wording. He now has a ready answer to the questions about his choice of trees. It is a comfortable answer. He wears it often. The two pennies in his pocket are: the light, and the stuff it takes to make a carbon print. Comfortable slippers for retirement stories at the bar.

Losing Photography

What would we lose if school darkrooms closed? A question from early 21st century. Would photography end? What type of knowledge would be lost; why?

At that time we just had ideas of what would happen; however, after 20 years we know what was lost; more, we can see why.

As academic art programs shifted to provide useful current procedures, they began replacing darkroom space with lightroom systems. This was in response to anticipated growth of art practices which have always relied upon industry — as a source of material, and as a destination of graduates.

In 2002, a group of teachers wondered, and worried about the loss of darkrooms along with the knowledge of those processes. It was considered that we would lose the industrial secrets. The industrial lab system would also decline. Would it be useful to record some of that material?

As knowledge domain moved from the weekday world to the weekend hobby layer, we certainly lost information; about process along with details and depth of experiences. What would be forgotten?

Instead, that transition from work-horse to hobby-horse knowledge keepers was used as a banner, actually more a sash for craft badges by the internet forum folk. Could they be counted on to examine or expand claims, keeping the craft knowledge alive, healthy? Not really

gossip rules the hobby shop

It wasn’t forgotten, it was covered over in gossip. The hobbyists are more concerned that they’re losing influence not that knowledge is being lost.

In an effort to shout each other down, they’ve lost the ability to talk.