Trip down memory lane: Occupy Wall Street in Chicago, 2011

A few weeks ago I sent some undeveloped rolls of film to the lab (in case you care, it's The Darkroom, in CA), and when I looked at the scans I found a little surprise.

It turns out that in October or November 2011 we spent a weekend in Chicago.  Of course, I took with one of my Leicas, the one that got out the least, a nice M3.  However, I also included (just for the heck of it) my then newly acquired Canon 50mm f1.2.  After a Saturday of sights and meals and visiting Central Camera in Wabash St., my wife and son wanted to take a rest, but I went out for a walk.

This is what I came back with, stored in a roll of Arista II ISO 400.  Of course, the first image is the interior of Central Camera back then (it hasn't changed much, but then, I haven't been there for some time).

Central Camera in Chicago.

Occupy Wall Street protesters in Chicago's LaSalle St.

 

 

Protesters holding signs.

 

Holding out for Free Speech!

Protesters on the ground.

Couple with sign.

Protester with flag

All these folks were congregated around the LaSalle street area, which is still the financial center in the Loop. But their activities were largely pacific; they weren't vociferous or even loud.  Besides, it was late in the evening.  The lens helped, though, and it was interesting to shoot with shutterspeeds as fast as 1/125 wide open. 

Are we back where we started?  Will it get worse?  At this point there have been far more demonstrations (and for different reasons) than after Obama's inauguration in 2008.  The passage of time is very evident now... even in this blog!  But we'll hang in there, because life is too beautiful to ignore it, and photography still offers an outlet when everything else fails.

Montmartre, Rive Gauche... neighborhoods or theme parks?

During the time I spent in Paris in 2017, I went to Montmartre, the quintessential Parisian neighborhood, home to renegades, artists, and renegade artists.  While I walked there (as much as I could, considering my impaired ankles) I wondered to what extent is the survival and identity of this area turned it into a kind of theme part about Paris in the 19th century.  Any ideas?  Take a look...

The carrousel that one meets upon exiting Abbesses, the metro station at the foot of the Montmartre hill.  It is, indeed, the Montmatre carrousel.

 

Poster store at the butte de Montmartre. 

Artist at work near the Place du Tertre.  He's not the only one in Montmatre.

Just as idealized as Montmartre is the Left Bank or Rive Gauche, with a number of spots that evoke (or rather scream) "Hey, this is an old place!"  From façades to cafés and park benches, there's an air of old things... But it is by no means something to dismiss. 

Gates of the Hotel de Ville. 

Street performer on the Ponte d'Arcole, a block away fron Nôtre Dame.  He's an unwilling prop in this strange museum... or just making a living?

Window corner of a building near the Ponte d'Arcole.  

Selfie takers at the Ponte d'Arcole, whose presence and attitudes only contribute to turn the place into a weird theme park... of sorts.

Now, both places have their very distinct areas and features.  Here's something from Montmartre.

People on the steps at the feet of Sacre Coeur.

One of the many stores and eateries in the windy streets around the basilique.  The "frogs"... 

Tables and a lone city hiker.

This air pervades the whole town... Is that the reason for its appeal?

Place de la République Dominicaine near Parc Monceau.  Those beautiful, impressive buildings exude old fashioned class...

This is the Café Courcelles, in the boulevard of the same name, at a place where two more streets meet.

The reason for the flags is that here, at the Passage des Ateliers, there's a flag making store (in addition to a wine bar and restaurant, and a few artists ateliers).

Whatever the answer, the city's charms remain unquestioned.  Perhaps it is always appealing because of its size, which seems adequate to human proportions and never overwhelms its visitors (no matter how large its museums and other places may be).  

In any case, as if it were necessary to say but I still want to add it, all the images above were made with a Leica M4, a Zeiss Biogon 35mm f2 lens, and a Sekonic L-208 meter in hand on Kenmere ISO 100 film (and, if not, Ilford FP4).

Paris and the 35mm Zeiss lens

During the summer of 2017 I had foot surgery, but before going in the hospital I spent some two weeks in Paris, and a few days in Germany afterwards. All that time I had with me two cameras: my Nikon D700 (with my AF 24-120 f4 zoom), and my Leica M4, with a Zeiss 35mm f2 and a 90mm f2.8 lens made by Konica.  For metering, I took a recently (back then) acquired Sekonic L-208 that can be small, discrete and accurate.  Film?  A mixed bag, but mostly Kenmore ISO 100 and Ilford FP4 (exposed at ISO 125).

Here, the photographs...

 Place St Julien Le Pauvre.  Artist setting up his work for sale.

 Place des Vosges.  Girl reading.  For this one, I used a Konica Hexanon 90mm f2.8 lens.

Place des Vosges.  Corridor and man.

The light was at all times intense and bright, but there were exceptions and places in which I was able to get (interesting) exposures with a bit more contrast, and an air definitely French, or at least continental.  Like these ones...

Men conversing in café by Place des Vosges.

Waiter, Ile de St. Louis.

 Photo shoot and model.  Palais Royal. 

Ladies and the cost of living these days.  Passage Jouffroy.

Girls at Café Dome, Rue Lévi. 

 

Not all the photographs I have show this "slice of life" quality.  Some are deliberately more architectural (or perhaps environmental), because... Paris offers everything everyone may want.  I wanted to do this trip and take a Leica I used to own (an M3), with a collapsible Summicron 50mm, but I sold it before anything happened.  I am now glad that I was able to take this M4 instead, as I have always found the 50mm focal length a bit too narrow for my taste.  Needless to say, I want to return, and I want to do some night photography like I did in Madrid.  But enough of that.  I'll return with some street shots (literally, photos of streets) that I liked because... I think they're a good representation of the charms of Paris.

A bientôt!

Second and last: The Leica Typology

Let's continue with my, shall we say, profiling of Leica M film bodies.  Since I packaged the M4 along with all its variations together, and finished my last installment with the M5, let's continue from there.

Given that the M5 is the best known secret operative, how could Leica improve on it?  Easily: they just dropped it like the proverbial hot potato, and went back to the drawing board to produce the M6.  This is a jolly camera, a jovial, quick to laughter guy, who enjoys work, rolls up the sleeves and gets down and dirty whenever needed, but then, at the end of the day, will go to a pub, a bar, a tavern, a restaurant or a café, or any place of human companionship, and sing a good set of tunes.  Yes, the M6 is one of those who works hard and plays hard.  Nothing in the world is better for this camera than a good work day, then a shower, and then a nice, long evening nursing a drink (or series thereof), belting out a few drinking songs.  Maybe that's why there are so many different editions of the M6: they knew these cameras wouldn't stay in their boxes.  That's probably the explanation for so very few "mint" or "collector-condition" M6 bodies in the market.  They're all out there, having a good time. 

(©Anthony Owen-James, flickr)

One would imagine that if the M6 is a nice party companion, the M7 would have enhanced party features.

No.

(© Yu Xiong, flickr)

The M7 has no nameplate like the previous Leica bodies.  It says only M7, like a secrent agent code, as if that were enough.  Based on this, the M7 is just… an M7, a letter and a number.  It's a bit joyless, bland, robotic body.  Sure, it works and, of course, produces always perfect exposures.  But then, what does it do afterwards?  What does this camera like?  Which songs are its favorites?  Does it have a preferred place to hang out?

No.

This camera is the typical metro-boulot-dodo.  Up with the sun, out to work, clicketty-click and clicketty-clack… job's done, collect paycheck, let's go, see you tomorrow, head back home, make some quick supper, watch the news and hit the sack… And repeat again the following day.  Why does it convey this image to me?  Is it because of its electronic guts?  Is that because of its apparent perfection in terms of metering, gauging film ISO, opening and closing the shutter at perfectly timed intervals?  Frankly, I don't know, but that's the reason I've stayed away from it.  In fact, I barely touched one.  I know… that's extreme.

Given that the MP resembles the M4 so much, and that I only once had a chance to hold one in my hands, I find it unfair to even try to characterize, but I'll try. 

(© Alessandro Bastianello, flickr)

First of all, I must admit that I fell in love with it.  Oh, what a softness to the tact, what a delight to the senses, what a flawless, precise engineering…  It was like an M6 on steroids (and I had already my M6TTL bodies by then).  Then, at the same time, holding the camera feels as if one had an M4 in hand: a reliable, solid instrument that can also understand the whims of the creative mind.

Here I will end.  I have nothing to add about the digital bodies (and there are too many) mostly because I lost interest on them after the M9 storm with the sensor problems.  Hence, I'll return to posting photographs.  In fact, soon enough I will come back with more results of my stay in Spain with my M2, and from my other sojourn in Paris, during the summer of 2017, with my silver M4. 

Take care and leave a comment with your opinion or information about the Leica digital bodies. Who knows... may be one day they'll deserve a typology too!

One very last note: the photographs used in this post came from flickr, and I have acknowledged their authors.  I should add that I am very grateful that they did not block their work from any third-party use, and that is why they appear in this entry, just as illustration.  Thanks, gentlemen!