ABOUT

SUMMER 2024

As a young man I was captivated by the aura of beautiful B&W images of people and places I had never met or imagined. They intrigued me. Some even captured my attention long enough for me to see the world in a different light. Those images, all of them, imparted a powerful effect upon me, which in turn led me into the study of photography.

In this field I studied the works of Paul Strand, Edward Weston and others, but in particular those of Ansel Adams. His Yosemite Series stunned me in their beauty and detail. From these images I became convinced to do something similar, so I bought a large format 4x5 Wista field camera, built a darkroom, and immersed myself in all things photographic.

I read everything I possibly could on photography, studied the techniques, equipment and procedures. I worked the Zone system developed by Ansel Adams from morning to night. I tested everything again and again - film, paper, chemistry, until exhausted by the effort. I tested more than I photographed, then realized I was more obsessed with detail than by art, so I stepped back to reassess my method of study and the results I was having.

While I took this much needed break, the body politic had become unbearably corrupt (it still is), so I temporally redirected my attention towards building a handcrafted ’40 Ford streetrod, and when finished, to journey the roads of America to proudly proclaim her past achievements and strengths. I wanted this ride to be heard and seen by those who had any doubts about her character. And so the darkroom became quiet, unused and full of junk.

Years passed, twenty to be exact, before I returned to photography. The sharp focused Modern style of Ansel Adams, that once mesmerized me, gave way to the beauty of the soft focus interpretive style of the Pictorialists, such as Julia Margaret Cameron, Leonard Misonne, Alfred Stieglitz and Sally Mann.

From this discovery, I once again became invigorated in the art of photography, because I had also discovered the wet plate collodion process. This process, developed in 1851 by Frederick Scott Archer, an Englishman, hit me hard and square. It was a process I was meant to practice. From mixing the chemistry to fixing the plate, every step of the way is integral to capture an image. I had finally discovered photography where being a photographer meant more than just taking pictures.

I had also learned from this method that patience and perseverance are necessary requirements. And that a slow, deliberate and careful execution of its technique is mandatory. Nothing can be done hurriedly or fast, otherwise throw-aways are guaranteed. Wet plate demands undivided attention to the process, and if done successfully, the rewards could be everlasting.

Another lesson learned is that wet plate begets humility. Artifacts must be accepted rather than rejected. That the imperfect, the unfocused, and the unwanted disappointments of making an image should not be discarded, as they too may offer pleasing results. And finally, that pouring plates is like life itself, full of error and mistakes, yet can be good and beautiful nevertheless.

During my absence from photography new advancements within its technology had developed. Digital imaging became the next big thing, and with it the manipulation of pixels in Photoshop and other photo editing software. What couldn’t be accomplished by the photographer could now be accomplished by the computer. However, I wasn’t impressed. I found the richness of the past lost in the ones and zeros of the present. Gone was the craft of photography, and for me, the inner joy of taking pictures.

Furthermore, AI has now completely destroyed the remaining artistic authenticity of the photograph, because one only need to imagine a picture to have it. In a throw-back to George Eastman’s famous line in 1888, ‘you press the button, we do the rest’, AI has taken it to a new, higher level. Only this time it has completely eliminated the need for the photographer. These changes in technology have allowed reality to become suspect. Truth questionable. And traditions shunned. I want no part of this. Long ago I was captivated by the aura of beautiful photographs, today I still am, but mostly those of the forgotten past.

For private on-site wet plate collodion portrait sessions please contact me at either:
johnny@johnnybcuz.com or text 508 320-2412. Sessions weather dependent.
Servicing Central Massachusetts - June through September.

Personal wet plate instruction available:
call or text for more info.