A question arises: Exactly why is it that you still use very large cameras and film when photographing the American landscape? Which is what I do.
I have been photographing in the American West, and a few other places, for more than 40 years. From the harsh deserts of the American outback to the rugged seacoasts and lush rainforests of Alaska and Canada, down through Washington and Oregon, as well as the rugged Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains. I have driven the backroads and trekked the deserts and peaks of the western North American continent, almost always with a backpack loaded with camera gear. If I lived to be as old as Methuselah, I don’t think there would be time to see it all, but I have seen enough to be in absolute awe of it. I often say that my very worst day outdoors has been so much better than my best days indoors, that I cannot truly describe it. Perhaps my photographs can communicate a sense of my wonder, though.
I have chosen, as my expression of choice, to use large format camera equipment for much the same reason, I suspect, that an oil painter or watercolorist may choose to work “plein air” rather than from a picture published in a magazine of a place where they will never go.
But I have chosen the harder way, and along the way, it has taught me life lessons that I suspect an easier path would not have shown. To paraphrase one of my favorite writers: “I took the road less traveled, and it has made all the difference.” For me, working in large format has forced me to slow down and learn technique. It has forced me to be purposeful in my composition, and even when I do use a digital camera, I find myself being very considered in how I work.
Perhaps a thing that forces me to slow down is not only how long it takes to set up the tripod, dig out the gear needed for that image—choosing which lens is best, and what filter to use, if any—but also finding the composition that pleases me and achieving focus for the image. The need to figure out depth of field, determine exposure, attach the cable release, load the film holder, and then make the actual exposure forces me to slow down and look, really look, and be observant. Another factor is that when the image is viewed on the ground glass, it is upside down and backward! For me, that is one of the best checks on composition there is.
In succeeding articles, I will talk more about the technical issues involved in using these large, heavy, slow, and very inconvenient cameras.
The material I seek out is in places that are not commonly traveled, although over the years, they have become increasingly popular and too traveled. And so I seek out new places, perhaps more remote locations. In those travels, I seek out things that are unusual, and as often as I can, there will be little, if any, evidence of humanity. Often, they are more a metaphor than real. Many times, they are the “what-is-its,” and that is the question I am often asked: “What is it?” Well, it is what you think it is. So, the quest continues—to find untrammeled places, off-the-beaten-path places, places where I can go and perhaps not contact another humanoid in a full day of working, except perhaps the one who came with me, the love of my life, Virginia, and almost always my very loyal and faithful companion, Gracie—a 65 lb Golden Retriever.
So, what is the bottom line? Why do I continue to use this enigmatic piece of equipment? Most probably, it’s because I like to. It’s a preference, the artistic tool I prefer to use.
A thing I truly do not enjoy talking about is the equipment I use. However, it is an inevitable question, and so I will address it here. The camera body that I currently use, and have for more than thirty years now, is a Toyo 45A. I formerly used a Crown Graphic, and the only drawback to that camera is that the back is not reversible or rotatable, so the tripod head has to be rotated to go from a horizontal to a vertical composition. Also, the camera movements are very limited. For me and for my work, the Toyo is almost a perfect camera.
I load these into a front-loading, exterior-frame, expedition-style backpack since it isn't uncommon for me to walk ten or more miles in a day and to climb from a base camp at 9,000 feet to an altitude of 13,500 and even higher. My pack typically loads out at 35 to 45 pounds, depending on how long I'll be out and what I will be doing. For lenses, I carry a Schneider 47mm XL lens, a Sinaron 65mm, 90mm, and 150mm lens, and a Rodenstock 210mm and 300mm lens. My meters are a Pentax Digital Spot Sensor V and a Gossen Luna Pro SBC. There are numerous filters, including light yellow, medium yellow, orange, dark orange, red, dark green, and a linear polarizing filter. The tripod I have used for many years is an Induro carbon fiber, and I have attached a Velbon magnesium three-way head to it. I do realize that these are older tools; however, I have found that a three-way pan-tilt tripod head works better for me than a ball head, maybe just because that's what I am comfortable with.
So, who knows? Maybe along the way, I can encourage some folks to step out of their comfort zone and embrace the old ways. It is eminently rewarding and has direct ties to the masters who used very similar tools to create the photographs that most of us have admired and, at times, tried to emulate.
Large format photography is simply amazing for landscapes, architecture, and product shots! Beyond the tilt/shift adjustments it offers, the quality of those large negatives speaks for itself. What I truly love about these cameras, though, is how much they teach you. The knowledge and skills you gain are invaluable and carry over to any other type of photography or camera you use. Back in the ’80s, I had the chance to work with a Linhof a few times, such a great experience! These days, though, I’m all about the convenience of my full-frame mirrorless. 😊
Thank you for your comment. I love the meditative state I have to be in to use these cameras. I was visiting with some college age kids over breakfast and one of the things we talked about is how busy people are and how noisy our society has become. For the reason, and others, I still seek out solitude. A place where there is peace and not turmoil.
Thank you for the thoughtful article. For me, the question of "why is it that you still use very large cameras and film?" has a simple answer. "Because I want to."