Tri-X From 1967

Whilst photographer Elif Gülen was going through the belongings of her late father, painter Ercan Gülen, to her amazement she found several bulk rolls of film dating from 1967! That's two years before man walked on the moon. Amongst them were three 1000 ft rolls of Tri-X and one 1000 ft roll of Plus-X. 

The atelier we used to meet quivered with excitement when Elif arrived on 11th August 2018 with the worn metal containers. Of course, we all wondered whether the film was still any good and decided to give it a try straight away. Into the darkroom we went, opened one can of Tri-X, felt the film with "oohs" and "aahs" in the darkness, cut off a long strip and spooled it onto a cassette. After quickly shooting through the roll, taking pictures of each other fooling around, the film went straight into developer.

Well, in the video you can see the buzz. Yes, there were images! On no less than 51-year-old film. Then I made this picture, which for me is a summary of that day.

Flatbed scan from a Ilford WT FB semi-matt print

From left to right: Jason Eskenazi, Elif Gülen, Taylan Bağcı, Dinçer Dökümcü, Erdem Varol. All accomplished photographers.

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In the wake of the two devastating earthquakes in Turkey and days of bitter tears, I wanted to write a post about a time when life was still pretty good. Yeah, we all had our own little problems, but looking back - it wasn't that long ago - I see that we were happy, enthusiastic. We were eager to get together. We published zines together. We found joy in our friendship and mutual love for photography. Beginning with the pandemic everybody started to drift apart, physically and psychologically. The economic crisis that followed - exacerbated by utter mismanagement - made life even harder. Here I am today, stunned by the toll of the quakes, at a loss where to look for hope. The political leadership is a disgrace.  Institutions are a wreck. And another major earthquake is imminent in Istanbul.

A Dream Most Strange

I've been plagued by many worries over the last few months, all related to an imminent and permanent move to Germany. Yes, emigration; joining the hordes of professionals who have lost faith in Turkey. Which also means, amongst other things, that my photography and darkroom is in a state of limbo. It's a moment where I wish my whole archive was in a small hard drive, instead of in boxes filling up a room. Maybe this dream I recently had, is connected to my plight:

I'm looking through my Leica rangefinder and focusing on the right eye of the fellow in front of me. He has short hair, a receding hairline, a stubble. He is charming. I'm very very close, right up to his face. In the viewfinder I'm aligning his pupil with its double-image. Surprisingly, there is a camel right behind him, sticking its head into my frame. It will be a wonderful double portrait. I click the shutter. Then I want to make another exposure from a slightly different angle. As I wind on the film, halfway through it gets rough and ratchety and I think "shit, that's not good". But I pull through and make another exposure; after which I can't wind the film at all. Next thing, it's twilight and I'm walking down a slope in a wooden landscape, camera in hand, wondering what to do about it. I wrangle with the horrific idea that I might have to give up on the film, that most likely it is ruined. Eventually I resign, open the camera and start pulling the film out. It looks like this:

Almost as good as a Dürer.

Half of it is like 8mm film. That part is completely black and with torn perforations from the winding. But then, mid-roll the film switches to medium format, with each frame offset like in the drawing above! And these MF frames are developed! They are the most beautiful MF negs I have ever seen, with gorgeous highlights and shadows. I clearly remember one frame: a lit-up chandelier is suspended above a table. The detail in the bulbs is breathtaking. On the table sits a man with longish fluffy hair. He looks remarkably similar to the chess player Hans Niemann, who was recently involved in an ugly stir in the chess world. I look at the negs in awe for a long time...and woke up.

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This is in the main train station in Istanbul. The lady seemed to be sleeping the sweetest of sleeps. Without the door, and without the Leica M6, I probably wouldn't have made the picture. But with the door and the reflections in the windowpanes, and hoping that the Leica would minimize any disturbance, I couldn't resist. Speaking of how quiet the Leica actually is, I once photographed a guy tanning himself on the beach from at least 50 meters. He turned around and looked at me. He had heard the click! 

The print is on 24x30cm Ilford MG Classic and the 35mm neg is Kodak Tmax400. Lovely film - I used it for many years - but now out of my budget.