Listening [Holga double exposure]
San Francisco, 1995
(click in the image for a larger version)
For today's edition of Time Machine Tuesday, we set the Way Back Machine to 16 years ago; 1995 to be exact. I cannot recall if this photograph was actually made at this time of year, as the neg sleeve and the box I found it in were only labeled "1995 Negs". But I think it was made during the cooler seasons, as I can remember the very cold wind that was blowing and the man in the image was wearing a heavy overcoat (not that this really means anything, because as anyone who lives in San Francisco can tell you, it can be incredibly chilly any time of year, especially on the summit of Twin Peaks, where this was taken).
Double Exposure
This photograph is back on my radar screen because an in-camera double exposure was required for an illustration in a book project I am currently working on and this scene immediatly came to mind. It was made with a plastic Holga camera on medium format film. Double exposures are very easy to make with the Holga as there is no cocking mechanisim attached to the shutter. If you forget to advance the film, you'll make a double exposure (or a triple-, or a quadruple exposure!).
This image was an intentional double exposure, though not one that was planned out in advance. Prior to this frame I had already made separate photographs of one of the antenna towers and the man, when it occurred to me that they might look good together in the same frame. I composed a view with the man on the left, took the photo and turned around 180˚ to make a second exposure with the tower on the right side of the frame. At that point the man decided it was too cold and returned to the shelter of his car.
Receiving a Distant Signal
After developing the negs and making a contact sheet, this was immediatly my favorite frame on the roll. I felt it worked well as a visual metaphor for the concepts of communication and listening; concentrating to tune in and hear something very important that was being transmitted from a great distance via a faint and indistinct signal. Like when you wake from a dream you can barely recall and you lie in bed with your eyes closed, probing the recent echoes of your unconscious, trying to remember the shape of the dream.
The Lazarus Effect
Unfortunately, the negative was very flat, underexposed in some areas and, due to the double exposure, overexposed in others (with no real controls, you take what you get with a Holga). Despite many attempts with plenty of dodging and burning acrobatics, I could never print it in the traditional darkroom the way I envisioned it should look, and my efforts only yielded several less than satisfying workprints. In 1995, shortly after this was taken, I began working in the digital imaging department of a large photo lab and with access to good, high-res scanners I always intended to scan the neg and see if I could resurrect it into the image I had in my mind. But other projects were were usually occupying the fornt burner and I never got around to it. And over time, it receded from my memory. Until yesterday.
Fortunately the creative controls available to me in the digital darkroom, and Adobe Photoshop CS5 in particular, far surpass anything I could have done in the traditional darkroom. After making a 16-bit scan, and spending some time working with the file and adding several adjustment layers with layer masks to modify different areas of the image, I was able to shape it into the photograph that I had always imagined. The original scan from the negative can be seen below.
