120film

Week 21: The Holga and Naked Tim by Jacqui Booth

Hmm, where to start with this one?  Well, I’ll try from the beginning and keep it brief.  At some point nearly two years ago, I was browsing through Twitter and Tim Andrews (who happens to have Parkinsons and was well into his Over the Hill project at the time) had posted something interesting from another photographer, which I ‘liked’ and might even have commented on.  I knew of him through a mate, but wasn’t going to slavishly follow for that reason, because I was awkward back then.  Fortunately, Tim followed me. ‘Did I take photos?’ he said.  Yes, I said, and sent him a link to flickr and instagram.  ‘Would I like to photograph him?’ he said.

“Oh my shitty christ” I thought.

BUT – I was on a mission to do the very things that scared me. And this did scare me.  I was nervous.  I didn’t really take photos of people. But my mate Al badgered me until I’d set a date (this took a while) and encouraged the heck out of me.  We went for walks and talked.  It would be okay.

Al and I, by Tim Andrews. I’m the taller one.

Al and I, by Tim Andrews. I’m the taller one.

Meanwhile, I went through Al’s big book of photos which he’d foolishly lent out a year or two back.  I still had it and was devouring every page.  Notes were made.  You see, everyone seemed to photograph Tim naked and I thought it was a cop out.  I wanted to just take a bloody good photo of him without the “Ooo, he’s got his willy out” shock value.  But, to be fair, as we settled into the studio, started to talk and I began to wrap his hands in yarn, the clothes…well, they just had to go.  They were in the way.

And so, my family and friends learnt of Naked Tim, so called because I know too many Tim’s and it became hard to differentiate.  Though as it happened, the photo we chose from the first day was clothed and was shown at Goldsmiths College in November 2015.  I wasn’t there.  I was watching a baby emerge from my sister.

Anyway, the moment Tim learnt that I knew the legendary Al Brydon (aka my twit of a mate) he decided that a joint shoot should occur.  Hence more wandering through the hills and valleys of the Peak District with Al whilst we decided what the hell we were going to do.  At the time, second ‘Tim shoots’ were rare, so we were a bit chuffed.  Little did we know that this would lead to shoot three.  This is the fourth and was almost wholly on film in honour of 52rolls.  Tim posed, Al and I bickered happily, we both bought along equipment, I developed the film and Al proved that he was better at processing it in Lightroom or whatever than me.

Pocket Al and Pocket Tim, perched on a Holga

It became a terribly soggy and wet day in the Peaks, and for me it had started off quite stressfully, but it was so comfortable and absorbing just making the photos together that I forgot to be worried and just enjoyed their company.  That kind of thing is important to me.

Outtakes:

Previous Tim pics on my website

Tim’s version of events…
I can help you out

The first time:
My time has come

The second time
Three is not a crowd
Special Offering
Helpless

The third time
Silent Song

This blog was first published on 52rolls.net

Week 18: Leicester Riverside Festival…and the EU by Jacqui Booth

Jacqui Booth / June 24, 2016

Well, this morning I opened my eyes in an unfamiliar bed and gradually remembered that I should really check my phone, for something momentous had been happening overnight and the results were due.

And so I checked.  And I felt disappointment.  I didn’t even cheer when our reviled PM resigned – just feared the further instability, particularly in the eyes of other countries.

I realise that the UK’s exit from the EU is far from cut and dried.  As usual the scare stories regarding the implications seem to be nearly as far fetched as those surrounding the terrifying Millenium Bug.  We seemed to survive that.  We’ll have a cup of tea, calm down a bit and survive this, but sadly in the knowledge that we really don’t necessarily hold the same values as half our neighbours or the generations before us and that – from my admittedly limited perspective – there are still a lot of people making poorly educated decisions out there.  But who can blame folk?  The UK press is horrifically corrupt and they’ve whipped the country into a frenzy without really managing to involve much of the truth at all.

I’m proud to see that Leicester voted Remain.  If a leave vote is poorly aimed protest against immigration, then for that to triumph here would have been inscrutable.  Even a bus ride into the city is a multicultural experience and once there you’re literally spoilt for more.  It’s not all plain sailing of course – but we’re doing bloody well at the job at just getting on with things and living together.

The UK is still the same as it was yesterday. Eyes open a bit wider perhaps.  There is still good and next year I trust that there will still be hundreds of wonderful volunteers sticking up two fingers up to hard nosed commerce and coming together to deliver the laid back wonder that is the Riverside Festival.

First up, here’s the legendary DWC, who is part of Leicester LoFi‘s very core, and worked his ass off recently to exhibit Yours and Mine for me and the house mamil.  I bumped into fellow 52 Roll-er Barnaby Nutt here who was also taking some snaps and kindly tipped me off when it looked like I might get embroiled in a conversation about toting a bellows camera!

We then headed off to hunt for my dear old Dad, who we found to be in his element showing off Serenade for the Peter Le Marchant Trust.

These two blokes haven’t met but actually live only streets away from each other – so, Dave – meet Dave!

Then me and The Teenager were off to check out the stage and the festival field…

But couldn’t leave without seeking out the Leicester Real Junk Food Project, now a year old, who save food that would otherwise have gone to waste and put it into tums.  It’s a doubly wonderful project as you Pay As You Feel – so if you’re really skint you get fed too, and if you’re solvent enough you can pay more to support such a great project.  And the people running the whole shebang are caring and lovely – I felt so looked after and even got a spontaneous arm rub with my spicy aubergine sarny, avocados and bread.

Heading back to the Park and Ride (where we asked for a price only to be treated to a free journey home as we’d joined with my Dad who’d parked there – yay for Park and Ride!) led us along the canal and through Castle Gardens.

And through the Lanes in Leicester where the iconic Very Bazaar was shutting up shop and I eschewed the now sterile but once fascinating Silver Arcade for a snap of the much more interesting Royal Arcade.

Technical Shit:
Agfa Isolette
ISO100 Acros 120 Neopan
Ilfotech 1+31 6mins, 19°
Neither film nor fix discarded prematurely = WIN!

And I debated whether or not to include this – but there ARE people in the UK who don’t know who she was and why she died still, so it’s still important to share.

‘While we celebrate our diversity, what surprises me time and time again as I travel around the constituency is that we are far more united and have far more in common with each other than things that divide us’

Jo Cox 1974 to 2016

52 Rolls Weeks 15: My Grandad’s folding Brownie by Jacqui Booth

Well, I said they’d be some cheats, and seeing as I’m falling behind then this is going to have to do!  I started this roll of film last summer and because the camera belonged to my Grandad Booth, I wanted to run family shots through it…and these things take time.

But with a squeal of delight which alarmed the baby and just about shifted the sorrow caused by my realisation that I’d wasted a frame AND most likely blurred a couple of shots in snap happy haste, the roll of Neopan was ready to meet its Rodinal.

So, I was kitchen bound…the soundtrack was Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds Tender Pray and much singing and dancing was done between agitations.  This is how Saturday mornings should be.

And lo, there were pictures!  Pictures of the wife and descendants of the Booth man himself.  Not all of the family by a long shot – I may have to round them up.  And enter into some sort of unholy alliance with a tripod…

This was risky – a indoor shot with only bright sunlight from the window to the right.  That’s my expectant sister with my Grandma.  I should probably have left using the camera to her to be fair – she must have used it before!

And here’s a motley selection of 1st and 2nd generation descendants – with a 3rd generation in utero.  I can’t have taken the 2nd pic as I’m in it!  I suspect Mr Z was called to help again.  I may have told him to stand too far back.

And later, here’s my newly adopted fave pub for lunch – you’ll notice that there’s now four generations all out in the open!

And a few months later, here she is valiantly tolerating her first day in my sole care.  And I was treated to smiles.  And I messed it up!  Still, I’ve tested it and I can fit a tripod under her pushchair.  Next time.

Note to self:  Just stop it with the light leaks!

52 Rolls Week 12: The film that could have been… by Jacqui Booth

Except it so utterly wasn’t.

It was full of pictures of the Eden Project where I’d been for four amazing days as a participant on the Big Lunch Extras course for people who do astounding stuff in their communities (and they let me in too).

It was full of coastal paths, deserted beaches and an abandoned quarry that I’d explored alone, daring myself to stay an extra day and enjoy a bit of freedom far from home.

Hell, it even had conclusive proof that fairies existed.

Then I got tired and carelessly pulled the whole thing out of the dark bag with the backing paper.


This blog was first published on 52rolls.net

52 Rolls Week 7: Holga – Jack White (at the allotment) by Jacqui Booth

Well, I had a week off work.  You’d have thought that would make things easier, right?  But no…I barely managed to get out to do this one.  Due to my “start at the doorstep and work out” the allotment was next.  It should be an idyllic place but sadly the local council’s contribution to an allotmenteers wellbeing is to come over all officious at every opportunity and after a good start I’ve very nearly lost all enthusiasm for it.  Last year’s seed potatoes had shrivelled on the bench and yesterday I just glanced at the new stocks in the shop.  I might just clear it up this year and give the hostility a miss.

BUT the Jack White Holga was primed and ready to go.  I’d wanted this camera for years – since my eldest son was born – but couldn’t justify buying it.  Last year I bought what turned out to be a really knackered 2nd hand one.  The masks are missing too, but I’m only going to tape the thing up and ruin it further, so it doesn’t really matter.  The tape fetches off the red on this and the Diana Meg – so there’s no point being too precious about it.

The day before my sister, knowing that we really needed to get out, drove us to Foxton Locks, a popular tourist ‘beauty spot’ in South Leicestershire.  We got there late so there’s just one shot of the canal.  Then we tried to save a lamb that had foolishly squeezed out through the fence and, to put not too fine a point on it, was shitting it.  As we decided that giving up was the best bet (this creature could not fathom the concept of gates and she had her baby in a sling) the farmboy turned up…and the lamb bolted out of the field entirely and onto the towpath.  He called it ‘mate’ a lot and eventually coaxed it back.  We could all sleep well.

So then it was time to face the allotment.  Not surprisingly, my neglected polytunnel was the worse for wear.  The whole thing had shifted onto the herb patch but some kind soul had caught the torn cover and weighed it down with a bit of fence.  I gratefully shoved the muddy cover into the shed and sat in the drizzle for a bit, looking around at the mainly vacant plots.

Time to wander…

I’ve photographed this place many times before – not with the Holga though and not with a fisheye lens (which is three times as heavy as the camera and dutifully plopped off into the mud after the first shot) so it was really quite a quick whizz round, especially considering the wintry conditions and the low light.

Seeing as the light was low, it seemed a good time to pop out a double exposure too.

The last shot is of the local primary school, which thankfully both my kids have left (we had the misfortuntune to attend under the management of the most bonkers head mistress ever experienced.  I’m being kind here).  It was a strange feeling looking out onto the scene of many nativities, though happily the memory of my naughty little donkey shaking his fist at the innocently singing robin character was the strongest…an improvised performance I’m told he repeated the next day too.  Ahem.

I turned towards the exit and moved on.

 

Technical shit:

Film: Fomapan 100 B&W – not expired!

Pre soak 20 deg water 2-3 mins, with waggles.  Water went crazily green.  I was scared.
Developed in Ilfotech HC 1+22 @ 20deg – agitated for 1st min then for 5 seconds every 30 seconds
Water rinse 20 deg water 30 seconds, with waggles
Fix 10 minutes – agitated each minutes
Water rinse 20 deg water , changed frequently, just over 10 mins as I couldn’t be arsed to do it for 20 mins.

This blog was first published on 52rolls.net