Making Contact

Contact sheet as teacher.

In days of yore (meaning the mid-1950s and '60s), the worth of any photographer could be judged by the black-and-white contact sheets made from his negatives. Armed with the essential weapons -- at first a tinny flashlight/magnifier and later a 4X Schneider loupe -- photographers and picture editors would analyze the contact sheet images, separating the sheep from the goat pictures.

Smoke gets into more than your eyes.

There it all was, from frame 1 to 36, with no way of hiding errors in exposure, composition, or sharpness. The truth of every photographer was revealed, totally naked, without recourse to the handy circular file (wastebasket to the uninitiated) in which color slide shooters could bury their mistakes (or missed takes). Great picture editors who knew how to make sheep from goats by judicious cropping and special printing were revered as artists in their own right.

While photojournalists were forced to reveal all to magazine picture editors, understandably, few pro contact sheets got into the hands of others. After use, they generally wound up with the negatives in the photographers', magazines' or picture agency files where many are still today. My children, when growing up, never tired of messing up my files looking at contact sheets of themselves, which I have dutifully kept since each was born.

I had my own good times learning much by looking through famous photographers' contact sheets. I assure you that it would never be allowed now, but if I wished to see Cartier-Bresson's contacts, I had only to ask his agency. Cartier? Magnificent images but sometimes poor exposures.

Relaxing at home.

Most pros shot up a storm during assignments, resulting in dozens of exposed rolls and contacts for each. A small number of photographers would cover the same type of assignment with just a few rolls of film. I particularly remember Alfred Eisenstaedt's contact sheets of the portrait session with architect Frank Lloyd Wright. He began with Wright full-figure (sitting down, as I recall). Shooting two images or so at varying distances, he gradually moved forward, keeping Wright lively (Eisie was a talker and grimacer) until close-up, where he did shoot more frames. He used a minimum of film.

After Nikon introduced the first motordrive-compatible camera in 1954 (2.5 fps), I asked Eisie if he ever used a motor. "Never," said Eisie. "It might miss something that this would have caught." He wiggled his shutter release finger at me.

Admittedly, many of my own contact sheets are a mess of unposed snapshots. But with scenics such as Yosemite Falls, I do the same -- first take the establishing shots, then slowly move forward shooting until I get wet. When it comes to non-snapshot portraits, I usually do the reverse of Eisie -- shoot the expected close ups first, then back off for head-and-shoulders and three-quarter lengths, sometimes pausing long enough to photograph a subject's hands, if they're interesting.

Like Eisie, I prefer a natural setting and existing light. Cartier-Bresson abhorred flash, explaining once that he wished subjects to appear natural as he saw them, but that flash gave him very different results.

Hands-on photography.

Today he might relent a bit and use existing light for the main illumination, but add a bit of fill-flash to open shadows. Cartier probably saw more shadow detail than the film's latitude may have recorded, and the fill flash might have provided him with a picture closer to what he actually wanted. Sure wish I could ask him about it.

Captions:

Contact sheet as teacher: I tried for accurate, even exposures, sufficient sharpness, good framing. Shooting close first, three-quarter portrait later, worked out. What can you learn from a digital session if you erase all but what you think is the good stuff and can't see everything at once?

Smoke gets into more than your eyes: This home portrait of Theodore Mehlin, professor of astronomy at Williams College, was made with a Miranda camera on Kodak Plus-X with 135mm f/3.5 Schneider Tele-Xenar, long before the Surgeon General issued warnings about smoking. Photographically, cigarettes and pipes were great portrait props. Exposure, 1/60 sec at f/5.6, in existing light.

Relaxing at home: Better close portraits. For three-quarter portrait distance, I had to switch from 135mm to my 58mm f/2 Zeiss Biotar, same exposure as other shots. By leaning against the door, Mehlin avoided the black opening to his right.

Hands-on photography: Mehlin assumed a frozen pose for his office close-up portraits, so I switched to his hands on the desk. Same exposure. I had more luck shooting at his house.