Landscape Photography 1887
From: THE BRITISH JOURNAL OF PHOTOGRAPHY.
No. 1392. VOL. XXXIV. JANUARY 7, 1887.
LANDSCAPE PHOTOGRAPHY
By ALEXANDER M. RIDDLE
[A Communication to the Aberdeen and North of Scotland Amateur Photographic Association.]
My aim in the short paper I am about to read will be to lay before you a few things in connection with landscape photography. This refers to photography as practiced outside a studio, and I propose dealing only with it from the practical side, so that while I refer to it as I have observed it practiced by many amateurs, gentlemen present will kindly bear in mind I do so from the point occupied by one interested in securing the best arrangement of subject under the most suitable light and conditions essential to success.
That photography has a charm for many is evident from the great number of cameras I come across in my wanderings, the owners thereof firing off snap shots on every conceivable subject, and under what appears to me as a rule unfavorable conditions. Yet there is a certain amount of pleasure even in this, though only the ghost of a picture is developed, as better things can be hoped for the next opportunity. However, I have seen many exquisite pictures by amateur gentlemen who practice photography purely for pleasure, indeed, very much superior to the work of some professionals; but I don’t think you’ll find they go in for trying everything instantaneously.
I am often approached in a knowing sort of way, “Ah! working the instantaneous process, I suppose?” and great surprise is expressed when I answer in the negative; but since the use of dry plates became general, the one idea of many appears to me to do all subjects instantaneously. The results are disappointing, even when good subjects are attempted, in a hazy, dull day; how much more when done as I saw during the last summer at Rothesay pier. A gentleman, one fine afternoon, from the deck of the “Columba” directed his camera towards the sun in his endeavors to secure a view of the town. Everything was in deep shadow, while the strong sunlight appeared to intensify the smoke that hung over the many chimneys. I refer to this as one instance out of many I could bring up of the indefinite ideas that exist as to what constitutes a favorable light for securing a good picture. Had the camera, in this case, been directed in nearly an opposite direction, something good might have been got of Rothesay Bay, with the Cowal Hills in the distance, while a lugsail boat or a passing steamer could have been utilized to break up the expanse of water.
Then the attempt to overtake something beyond the capacity of either camera or lens, such as a tall steeple. With his back to a wall and the camera turned up to nearly the angle of forty-five, I have seen a gentleman vainly hoping to make a picture; add to this the fact that the sun was directly at his back, which gave the steeple without a trace of shadow on it.
Then, again, some run after animals, and wonder why their instantaneous plates develop almost clear glass, and express surprise they cannot turn out something worth a medal, since some other body does very fine studies of animals.
In connection with the laudable desire to do something good, an incident comes to my mind. While working in St. Andrew’s, a gentleman approached me one day and asked if I could direct him to any good subjects in the district. I replied to the effect that I thought he was in the midst of a great variety of very good subjects, adding there is the cathedral, the castle, houses ancient and modern, while there is the ever-changing sea, with rocks, waves, boats, and indeed better material than could be found in many places. He shook his head, and said that was not the sort of thing he wanted; but pulling from his pocket a book treating on composition pictures, added, “It’s something of this sort I want.” Rather advanced for a beginner, I thought; however, I remarked, “There is plenty of scope for your hobby all round. There is life of every sort, industry and indolence among all classes, from the aristocrat golfing on the links, to fisher folks busily baiting their lines or lounging at the street corners, with their hands plunged into the unfathomable depths of their pockets this, with creels, boats, lines, and heaps of mussels, is surely variety enough; but your difficulty will be to secure the good-will of your subjects, which is most important.” Whether or not he made up his mind to attempt this I cannot say, but I found him dodging about after me as if he had got new light on some of the subjects he did not think worth attempting before.
However, there are one or two elements of character I consider indispensable to success in photography. I pass very lightly over the fact that any one who is enthusiastic will know the advantage of early rising; many a good view is got when a large proportion of the inhabitants are snoring in bed. Patience, with perseverance, is said to work wonders, and there will be many opportunities for carrying these into practice, if you would make the best of every subject.
When doing work about a town, smoke is very troublesome, and often entails a weary wait. Then a fine reflection may often be secured by exercising a little patience and watching for a brief lull, not to speak of the advantage of quietness when foliage breaks up the foreground.
Then in order to secure the best light, it is often a great advantage to wait until the sun moves round a little, or, more correctly, “the earth moves round.” Of course there are many occasions when it is manifestly useless to wait for the calm moment, and in such a case it is wise to look for a subject unaffected by wind. But in any case be deliberate in choosing a point, and, when decided on, be deliberate in fixing up the camera and exposing, or you may find yourself uncapping your lens before the plate is uncovered; or some fine day you’ll be exposing the same plate twice, and find out perhaps after all that if a little more care had been exercised a much more effective point, and that in a far better light, could have been secured.
This brings us to the importance of method in working, and in this connection it will be wise to run over the necessary apparatus, with which it is well to be on very familiar terms. This will prevent us going into the country some day minus the camera screw, or perhaps the tripod top, without which we would miserably fail. Have a place for everything, and run over in your mind the operation of fixing up the camera for work, and exposing a plate, in order to satisfy yourself that nothing is wanting.
This will bring us to speak of apparatus, of which there is great variety to select from. Not the least important is the stand, as many a good view is lost through a rickety stand. Most of the stands of the folding pattern have this fault, on account of having only a single limb from the joint downward. I have with me an improved folding stand you may inspect. A spirit-level is another necessary in getting correct pictures where straight lines come in.
The camera and slide I’ll suppose you have very carefully inspected, lest any stray light may come in and the unfortunate plate maker be blamed for sending you bad plates, while the fault lies with the camera not being sufficiently light-tight. Inspect every movement, such as sliding front, with the lens screwed on and capped. Throw up or remove the focusing screen, and, with the camera placed in bright sunshine, look through as if about to focus, with the cloth carefully adjusted so as to keep out all light from behind, and you may, by turning round the camera, discover some little chink you never dreamt of. However, it is always well to work with the cloth carefully adjusted, so as to screen the camera and lens as much as possible. A swing back is also a very useful arrangement, but requires to be very carefully adjusted.
“What lens do you use?” is a question very frequently asked of me. Well, any good lens will do, providing you don’t attempt too much with it. Confine your lens to covering a plate the diagonal measurement of which is equivalent to its focal length, excepting when you have a lens especially made to cover a larger plate, such as a wide-angle rectilinear. A single lens is good for general landscapes, but many of the single lenses that are agoing are of a small diameter, and consequently slow. However, for many subjects, this is no objection, but there is satisfaction in having a good lens. A rapid rectilinear is doubly useful.
Now supposing the slides have been carefully inspected, dusted, and charged with plates, you will think about trying something. Although it is quite possible to go through the whole operation mechanically, since the dealers send out printed instructions of the plates being so sensitive, you can expose, bring home, and with so much out of bottle No. 1, and so much out of No. 2, you develop so many minutes, and everything is bound to come out right. Well, perhaps they may, and no doubt this accounts for some when first attempting photography producing one or two wonderful plates; but how they got them is a mystery to themselves, for they say we cannot do the same now.
We will begin by not attempting anything very great. A friend’s house is always a handy subject, and houses being all pretty much alike we will consider how we can set it off, for we will not be satisfied with planting our camera right in front of it, and filling the plate with the front, or front and gable walls. Are there any trees about? as, if possible, we must get them introduced, so as to make the picture. Of course it is well, in most cases, to get sunshine, particularly if the building is dark, of which, by the way, there are not many about Aberdeen. But with the most important part of the house in sunshine, and just enough shadow to give relief, we notice if the trees are still before exposing, which must be done deliberately and sufficiently long to get details in all the shadows without solarizing the highlights.
Suppose we go to the country a bit, and try a different style of subject. It is well to remember, in this connection, what constitutes a photographic picture. It is not color, but light and shade; and subjects that appear to many as effective pictures are of no use for photographing. We want form, and that must be effectively lighted. For general landscapes we want, a clear day with bright sunshine.
The selecting of a good plate is important. The rules applicable in fixing a good point for sketching hold good in photography, not forgetting that color is nowhere. Though in sketching anything we fancy may be introduced, in photography we must adapt ourselves to things as they exist, or very nearly so. Look at a good engraving or a good photograph, and while making up your mind not to copy the photograph, you may be sure you cannot exactly reproduce the engraving, but there is something to be learnt from both, and turned to good account the first opportunity for selecting a point. If there are distant hills in the landscape, they will probably show up best if the sun does not shine on them when exposing, though by all means have sunshine on the foreground and the middle distance, and avoid having very large objects in the foreground, or the distant hill will look too diminutive. Be always ready to take advantage of water, trees, rocks, loose branches, tree roots, or anything at hand to break up a smooth foreground.
If a waterfall is the subject chosen, or if the nature of the day warrants this for all arrangements in photography are subject to the weather, a quiet sunless day will suit, and in many cases will be found preferably to a day of brilliant sunshine, as in deep gullies and shady glens bright sunshine shows such heavy black shadows that, in order to expose them sufficiently, the high lights are all solarized, but with a quiet, even a hazy day, we can get every leaf, every twig and fern, if sufficient exposure be given.
On such a day as this, some of the beautiful weeping birches on Deeside may be got; haze in the distance will help to make the tree stand out, if you cannot show it with water in the background: so you see there are great varieties of subjects in a day’s outing, and if the weather prove unsuitable for one, we may fall back on another.
The beauty of cloud effects, when taken in connection with water, I feel confident is appreciated by all who possess a camera, and, being near the sea, there is abundant opportunity of securing something in this way. For this we must have a cloudy day, but not too many clouds, and, with the sun ahead of us, we can watch for the effective moment and expose quickly. Avoid having the sun blazing immediately in front, though a ray striking the water in the distance enlivens the picture wonderfully.
When photographing on a street or on a road, there is often the objectionable accompaniment of a great stretch of white foreground. The shadow of a tree helps in a case of this kind, if we can secure it; failing this, the shadow of a building. A few buckets of water, judiciously spilt, will often work wonders. But the greatest difficulty in street views is mobs of people who want to be “took.” A few coppers may dislodge youngsters, but it is not an easy matter and often very tantalizing, when a favorable opportunity occurs, to get some grocer’s or butcher’s boy, with a white garment of some sort and a big basket, stand up some twenty or thirty feet from the camera, when you know by experience that, however short the exposure may be, he’ll keep moving. Patience may weary out a few, and this, with a little tact, may overcome the difficulty.
Cattle may be got on a sunless day even better than on a day of brilliant sunlight, and that with a very short exposure.
Portraiture may also receive a share of attention, and it is possible to turn out good pictures without a specially built studio. The great objection to portraits taken out-of-doors is they are flat. Now this may be got over to a great extent by adopting the course I am about to suggest. Avoid setting down your subject back to the wall and facing an expanse of open sky, as this shows the face without a trace of shadow. Reverse the order of things, and set your subject a fewyards outside, say the back-door, in a diffused light. If you have no special background, the wall of some outhouse will serve this purpose, and its distance will ensure its being soft. Keep the camera a few feet inside the door, just in the passage. Of course, when making this arrangement, you must necessarily discern when you have got sufficient shadow; a slight movement either to the right or the left, or a little farther from or nearer the doorway, makes a great difference, and with care a fine round picture can be secured in this way.
“But what exposure do you give?” is so often asked that I suppose I must say something about it, though to fix anything definite is misleading, as no two subjects are exactly alike, and the same subject would require longer or shorter exposure at different hours of the day. An improperly lighted subject will not show up well, whatever care you bestow on it, and one with heavy, dark shadows in the immediate foreground, and the distance flatly lighted with brilliant sunshine, need not be attempted, as if you expose the foreground enough the distance is lost, or get the distance right and the foreground is clear glass. Take such without sun altogether, if you cannot get the light and shade sufficiently distributed. Also avoid exposing when the sun is at the point that leaves you without any shadow, and avoid exposing when the sun is so far ahead of you that everything is in shadow excepting the house-roofs and the level road. As exposure plays a very important part in the production of a good print, it is well that this should be sufficiently long to bring out all details in the shadows, and ought to be so timed as to allow of development being carried out without either forcing or restraining. An under-exposed plate is waste, excepting in so far as you learn to expose more correctly the next time. A full exposure — that is, an exposure that admits of a considerably smaller proportion of ammonia being used than the plate can bear — will allow you greater control, and this is a feature I believe very much overlooked in dry-plate photography. It is so much out of this bottle and so much out of that, and develop so long well, you may as well put them into a churn and turn a handle. Just see how hard some pictures turn out, and a nice soft thing might have been got had the development been regulated by a former subject. Then be careful to develop until all details are out, which, in many subjects means that you don’t make up your developing solution of the strength that would show your high lights as dense as a board by the time the details in the shadows come out. Many a good picture is hopelessly spoiled in development, while many an over-exposed plate may be saved with care and patience.
Those who are familiar with the working of the collodion process must have noticed there is a difference between a collodion and a gelatine negative, to such an extent as I believe may never yet have been fully taken into account. For instance, a gelatine plate that looks like a good old collodion plate is almost useless for ordinary printing, whereas a gelatine plate, that, judging by a collodion plate. would be useless, prints amazingly well, and leads many to be satisfied with, I think, too thin negatives.
I have always developed with ammonia and pyro, and find a full exposure gives the best picture, using as little bromide as possible. After fixing I prefer immersing the plate in a solution of protosulphate of iron and citric acid, as, in my estimation, it removes yellowness better than anything else, so after washing thoroughly and drying, you will have time to spot and prepare for printing, in connection with which I see Mr. Sang is expected by-and-by to clear away all the difficulties, and make this process easy and delightful to yourselves and your friends, who will look upon the productions of your camera many days hence.