Stars in Their Eyes

Dalreichmoor, high up in the Carse of Gowrie

Way back in the mists of time there was a TV show in the UK called Stars in Their Eyes where ordinary members of the public could grab their 15 minutes in the limelight by impersonating a famous celebrity. I'm pretty sure the same format would have been used in many other countries around the world.

The impersonator would stand under the spotlight in front of the studio audience and declare to host Matthew Kelly, "Tonight, Matthew, I'm going to be...Elvis!" By dint of some 1980s camera trickery, an Elvis-ish (you can only say that when you're drunk) being would suddenly appear. Personally, I couldn't stand the show but I believe it was popular.

I've revamped the format for photographers and will be relaunching it as, Cameras in Their Hands. This time around, the ordinary snapper gets to pick up his particular camera, say a Leica, and announce to the world, "Today, I'm going to be...Ralph Gibson!" I've been doing this sort of thing for years but it's harmless enough, I suppose. There must be a part of me that actually believes that, given the right camera, I can magically transform myself into the photographic hero who once wielded it with such success.

My latest Cameras in Their Hands moment happened last week but I'd need to sketch out the background to it first so bear with me. About 25 years ago I used nothing other than a 6x9 format Mamiya Press for my photography. It was the period, perhaps more so than any other, when I didn't give a stuff about camera equipment. I had a working camera with a big negative, 65mm, 90mm and 150mm lenses and I was happy. An ancient Slik copy of a Linhof tripod sometimes accompanied me.

The camera had once belonged to a hard-working pro in my home town of Dundee and had then been through the hands of a couple of photographers on the newspaper I worked for. It was in a bit of a state but still functioned well enough. It's long gone but I managed to find a few pics of it on my hard drive. Bashed about a bit, screws missing, peeling and missing leatherette. In short, it was a man's camera.

From time-to-time, I've posted a pic or two taken with it and Phil Rogers always says that there was something about them and that they were "me". Then TOD contributor David M. said something similar when I posted another old Press shot just a few weeks ago. He wondered if the 6x9 format might be THE sweet spot as far as photography formats go.

Their comments alone, thought-provoking though they were, wouldn't have been enough to stir me to action but they happened to coincide with some thoughts I'd been having of my own. I'm a big fan of Don McCullin's landscapes and have often had thoughts of copying his M.O. - slinging a Mamiya Press around my neck with a 75mm lens fitted and a handheld light meter and wandering over the hills, or the Somerset Levels in Don's case. Used in that fashion, the Mamiya becomes something like a big, heavy Leica with a 35mm lens fitted.

Plus, not long ago I was approached by a record company that wanted to use one of my old Mamiya shots for an album cover. Here's the pic:

And here's the cover:

There seemed to be some divine intervention taking place, the runes were aligned, etc, all of which was pointing me in a particular direction. Rather than fight it, I went with the flow, safe in the knowledge that, if it didn't work out, it was all the fault of Phil and David.

Some idle online browsing led me to a Mamiya Press Universal with 75mm and 100mm lenses at a well-known camera store. I reached an agreement with myself some time ago that there would be no further net expenditure on camera gear: if I wanted something then I had to sell something. Well, sitting staring at me on my desk is my much under-used Konica Hexar AF, a great camera with a brilliant lens that, all puns aside, I've just never clicked with despite coming close a few times.

It's value on Ebay was more than the cost of the Mamiya outfit so little wheels started whirring in the Robbins cranium and meshed with even smaller cogs and a few days later a box landed on the doorstep with a cosmetically nice camera and a couple of grotty lenses which will hopefully be great once they've been cleaned and serviced by Miles Whitehead.

We're back in the present again now. The spotlight was shining on me, I picked up the Mamiya and said, "Today, I'm going to be...Don McCullin!" And that's the road down which I travelled that led me back to a place I hadn't been in a long while - wandering over hills in search of landscapes with a big medium format camera hanging from my neck (that's the clumsiest sentence I've written in ages!). But what about the Rollei SL66, I can hear you ask. That's a big medium format camera, isn't it? Yes, but if you've ever tried to use one handheld with a 45 degree prism in place and eye sight that isn't getting any better, you'd maybe understand why I see it purely as a tripod camera. Believe me, I've tried working with it hand-held and it's no fun.

I did think about sending the Mamiya outfit straight to Miles as both lenses have a  small bit of fungus in them, thankfully near the edge of the glass, and one has a lot of dusty crud on the inner elements. The front and rear surfaces look unblemished, though. But the thing is I wanted to make sure it was at least working the way it should before the 15-day period during which I could return it expired. So I loaded up a roll of HP5 and satisfied myself that everything was functioning properly. Surprisingly, the lenses are usable as they are although maybe the 100mm is down a little on contrast. When Miles has done his stuff - viewfinder cleaned, rangefinder checked and calibrated to the lenses, etc -  I reckon everything will be spot on.

The Mamiya promises a lot as the 75mm lens is supposed to be very, very good. Along with the 50mm and the 100mm f2.8, it's one of the best made for the system. I believe it was designed for the Polaroid version of the Press Universal and has tremendous covering power for the larger Polaroid image. Apparently it just about covers 5x4. The 100mm f3.5 that I have is a good lens but seems to be no more than that. Still, a good lens on a big negative should be more than enough, quality-wise.

My first landscape foray with the outfit was great fun. I didn't walk too far over the hills but just being able to leave the car and a tripod behind was liberating. After about 40 minutes, the weight of the camera on my neck did become quite noticeable but with more use and perhaps an Optech strap things should improve. Best of all was the handling of the Mamiya.

It came with a grip that screws onto the left hand side (see pics of my old Mamiya above) and has a built-in cable release. The idea is that you hold the camera with your left hand and set the speeds, aperture, focus, etc with your right. That seems the wrong way round to me so I ditched the grip and just cradled the camera and lens in my left hand in the same way you would normally operate an SLR. I'm not sure how Don found out about my approach but I've noticed that he has copied me and does the same thing. One of the later film backs for the Press has a built in cable release on the right hand side and if I can get one of those I'll be all set.

At the top of the page is my first real landscape shot from the Mamiya. I'd rated the HP5 at 800 ISO for development in stock Microphen and was pleased with the results. I might try ID11 stock the next time for a little less grain, not that Microphen is too bad. It was the puddle twins in the foreground with the light reflecting off them that attracted me to this scene on Dalreichmoor. The big, menacing sky made it irresistible.

I've long felt an affinity with the moor and love driving through it in my old Saab. There is, so I've read, a strong connection between Dalreichmoor and our ancient friends, the Druids. When they weren't sacrificing people by burning them alive in huge wooden figures (if you've seen The Wicker Man - preferably the first version with Edward Woodward and not the Nicolas Cage remake - you'll get the idea) they were dying at an early age and getting themselves buried on the moor. Dalreichmoor is an odd word even for Scotland and it's conjectured by some that it's a corruption of "druid". Sounds a bit far-fetched to me but you never know.