Film Photography Archives

In this post I will put the history part of the blog aside for a moment, and talk instead about landscape photography in Italy. This is after all supposed to be a blog about history AND photography, but I do feel a bit diffident whenever it sounds as if I am offering advice on photographic technique. The reason is simple – there are many very talented photographers publishing their work on the internet and offering technical advice and it feels a bit presumptuous to be comparing myself to them, if only implicitly.

But recently I was looking at the work of a photographer who specialises in the man-made landscape, in particular scenes of urban decay, and accidental geometric shapes and patterns. You can find his YouTube videos here. The results are not always my cup of tea, but I found myself watching partly because he uses the same medium format camera as me (Fujifilm GFX 50R) and partly because I was fascinated by the amount of care he puts into composition. That got me thinking about one aspect of my photography that I do enjoy very much, which is looking for patterns, not in derelict industrial sites, but in the landscape.

And by a fortunate coincidence, it turns out that I have quite a few photographs of Italy that could illustrate this, taken on a range of film and digital cameras over the course of about twenty years. So here we go.

Shapes

The natural landscape is not orderly as a rule, or at least that’s not how we think of it. Of course agriculture can alter that, but occasionally nature does it by itself. Either way, your eye is drawn to apparent shapes, whether they are tricks of perspective, the result of human action, or just sheer chance.

Near Monterenzio — This picture and the next were both taken in the foothills of the Apennines, in Emilia-Romagna south of Bologna. The contrast between the mown wheat or barley and the green crop (which I think might be rapeseed) combined with the swooping curves of the hills to create a pleasing series of shapes. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Sonnar CF 150mm lens, CFV-50c digital back (click to enlarge).

Near Montetortore — Near the village of Montetortore in Emilia-Romagna. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Planar C 80mm lens, 6x6cm rollfilm back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film, scanned on a Nikon LS-9000ED film scanner (click to enlarge).

Near Pienza — In this photograph of the Val d’Orcia, taken from the walls of Pienza in Tuscany, a newly-harvested field contrasts with the green crops around it, while a huge thunderstorm brews in the background. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Planar C 80mm lens, 6x6cm rollfilm back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film scanned on a Nikon LS-9000ED film scanner (click to enlarge).

Sometimes nature provides the shapes itself. Taken near Misurina in the Dolomites. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Sonnar CF 150mm lens, CFV-50c digital back (click to enlarge).

Dawn at La Morra — Here, near La Morra in Piemonte, the dawn light has reduced what would otherwise be a rather cluttered scene to something like a cardboard silhouette. Fujifilm X-Pro 3 digital camera, 100-400mm lens (click to enlarge).

Hut near Pagliare — In this photograph taken near Pagliare in Abruzzo, the strong diagonals of the mountainside are offset by the farmer’s tiny shed. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Sonnar C 250mm lens, 6x6cm rollfilm back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film scanned on a Nikon LS-9000ED film scanner (click to enlarge).

Repetition

Repetition is something that the brain responds to at a fairly basic level – you don’t need to think about it, because neurologically you’ve already noticed it before the higher levels of cognition have been engaged. Clearly something this fundamental must have evolved because it conferred a survival advantage, but I don’t profess to understand quite why.

Harvested field outside Pienza — Agriculture, whether ploughing or harvesting, is a great source of repetition in landscape photographs. Here the regular lines left after the harvest serve to accentuate the undulations of the land. Taken in the Val d’Orcia outside Pienza. Fujifilm GFX 50R medium-format digital camera, 32-64mm lens (click to enlarge).

Capella della Vitaleta — And here is a similar effect left by the plough, also in the Val d’Orcia. Horseman 45FA large format camera, Fujinon-W 125mm lens, Kang Tai 6x17cm rollfim back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film, scanned on a Flextight Precision II film scanner (click to enlarge).

You can’t beat vineyards for repetition. These are near the town of Barbarano Vicentino, near Vicenza. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Sonnar C 250mm lens, CFV-50c digital back (click to enlarge).

Val d'Orcia Belvedere — Sometimes morning mist can do even more, filling the valleys so that the higher ground is sculpted into a series of retreating silhouettes. Taken in the Val d’Orcia on the road between Pienza and San Quirico d’Orcia. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss sonnar C 250mm lens, 6x6cm rollfilm back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film, scanned on a Nikon LS-9000ED film scanner.

A similar effect in the Monti Martani near Todi in Umbria. Fujifilm X-Pro 3 digital camera, 100-400mm lens (click to enlarge).

Dawn at Monti Martani — A similar shot of the Monti Martani. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Sonnar C 250mm lens, CFV-50c digital back (click to enlarge).

Val d'Orcia — Morning mist again, in the Val d’Orcia. Canon EOS-3 35mm film camera, 100-400mm IS L lens (click to enlarge).

Leading the Eye

As a photographer, you want to be able to guide the viewer’s eye into a picture. Something that leads the eye (a road, a river, whatever) really helps a composition, giving it a feeling of depth, and turning what might have been an ordinary photograph into something a bit more special – perhaps something that poses questions. Where does the road (or river) lead? What is around the corner?

Marche ridge road — A country road in Le Marche, not far from Urbino. Horseman 45FA large format camera, Nikon Nikkor-W 150mm lens, Kang Tai 6x17cm rollfilm back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film, scanned on an Imacon Flextight II film scanner (click to enlarge).

Near Amelia — Another country road, this one near the town of Amelia in Umbria. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Distagon CF 60mm lens, CFV-50c digital back (click to enlarge).

Near Pesciano — Near the village of Pesciano in Umbria. Fujifilm X-Pro 3 digital camera, 100-400mm lens (click to enlarge).

Farmhouse outside Pienza — This much photographed farmhouse (now inevitably used for tourist accommodation) is just outside Pienza in Tuscany. Horseman 45FA large format camera, Fujinon-W 125mm lens, Kang Tai 6x17cm rollfilm back, Fujichrome Velvia 50 120 film scanned on an Imacon Flextight II film scanner (click to enlarge).

The “Sentiero del Furioso”, a walking track that follows part of the course of the River Tiber in Umbria. Fujifilm X-Pro 3 digital camera, 16mm lens (click to enlarge).

Sunflowers near Toara — Near the town of Toara in the Veneto, an irrigation ditch, a line of trees and the edge of a field of sunflowers all draw the eye from the foreground into the distance. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Distagon CF 40mm lens, CFV-50c digital back (click to enlarge).

The Lago di Mis, in the Dolomites. The lake curves around to the right out of sight, but the receding mountains on either side continue to draw the eye into the distance. Hasselblad 501 C/M camera, Zeiss Sonnar CF 150mm lens, CFV-50c digital back (click to enlarge).

And that’s it. I hope you liked the photographs. Next post will be a bit more about history, I think.

Just over a year ago I posted this “History in Focus” article, about the large-format panoramic photograph I took at dawn one morning in early spring 2006, with the rising sun illuminating the mist in the valleys of the Val d’Orcia, and the history associated with the area. A crop from that photograph is the banner image for this blog.

It was quite a productive early morning shoot; not only did I have my Horseman 45FA large format camera with me, I also had a Hasselblad 500C/M medium-format camera and a Canon EOS-3 35mm SLR (I travel lighter these days; carrying a 25kg backpack onto an aircraft is harder to get away with, and harder on my back).

The aim of that post last year was to concentrate on a single photograph, which meant that several other fairly decent pictures did not get published. So here they are. If you haven’t read the original article, I recommend you take a quick look at it before proceeding.

I set up in the dark and waited for the sun to rise. When it did, at first the colours were soft, muted and pink-tinged, and the contrast was very low.

The picture above was taken in exactly the same position and in the same direction as the photograph in the original article, so showing the low contrast and pastel colours. The difference is that I used a 4×5 inch sheet film back rather than a 6x17cm panoramic rollfilm back. Interestingly, I am looking at this on a 15-inch laptop screen and the size of the image is only slightly greater than the original sheet-film transparency. That is why large format photography captures such an extraordinary amount of detail.

The photograph above was taken immediately after that shown in the original article. I simply rotated the camera on the tripod about 45 degrees to the left. Since the sun was now in shot I had to reduce the exposure time, and the shadow areas were much darker, and the contrast much greater. But it makes it quite dramatic. As with the photograph in the original article, I used a 2-stop neutral density graduated filter to balance the sky and the land, but no coloured filter. In the distance, right below the sun, you can make out the silhouette of the town of Pienza.

The photograph above was taken only a few minutes later, but in the time it took me to change the lens and film back, the sun had climbed a little way into the sky and the warm pink colours were fading. Photographers talk about the “golden hour” around dawn and sunset when the light is at its best, but the colours when the sun is only just above the horizon are very ephemeral. It is more like a “golden ten minutes”. For this photograph I changed from the slightly wider than standard 125mm lens to a slight telephoto 180mm. By the way, this is a very famous view: you see it in lots of calendars and advertisements.

As the sun rose higher, the contrast in the scene increased, especially looking further round to the east where the mist was backlit by the sun. I switched to the Hasselblad. Using a telephoto lens foreshortened the perspective of the series of hills.

Then something unexpected happened: it started to get darker. Although it was a cloudless day the mist around me grew briefly thicker and partly blotted out the sun. The scene became almost monochrome. Since I already had my “classic” dawn light shots in the bag, I spent a few minutes with telephoto lenses on the medium format and 35mm cameras picking out interesting shots. In just the minute or two that it took me to take them, the mist thinned out again and it got lighter.