Tsirkus Fotografika

Reimagining a Jewish Past That Never Was

2011-08-15T09:13:00.000-07:00

08 15 11 For immediate release:

RA Friedman doesn’t mind being known around town as “the man with the old camera” or “the vintage photography guy.” Since the early 90’s he has been shooting with older instruments and exploring the unique look of the antique lens, He often creates time-traveling portraits at events using a seventy-year-old Graflex camera. Recently, a project funded via Kickstarter, that will happen in the coming months, led him to partner with EgoPo, a cutting-edge theatre group in Philadelphia, in a pairing that seemed destined to be. Friedman has evolved a startling set of publicity images for EgoPo’s 2011/2012 season, that on first blush look like they date from the 1920’s or 30’s but were taken barely over two weeks ago.

EgoPo has in the works a trio of Jewish-themed plays: The Diary of Anne Frank, The Golem, and The Dybbuk. Friedman’s background includes working with the photo collections at The Historical Society of Pennsylvania, and, since 2003, filling the role of audio technician and archivist at The Freedman Jewish Sound Archive at Penn. “Of course, many people know Frank’s diary, but working around Yiddish folklore and having developed an affinity and osmotic knowledge of the beauty of the Yiddish language, its literature and poetry, I was also familiar with The Dybbuk and The Golem. So all at once I was more connected to the material than most photographers, but also anxious about creating images that were worthy of the subject matter’s weighty legacy.”

The library, auditorium and gasolier-appointed grand stairway of The German Society, an elegant Victorian style building, made a perfect backdrop for photos that needed to have an early 20^th century look. “The photography was really kind of ‘crash and grab,’ we only had a bit more than an hour to create five tableaux and right at the outset, all my lamps failed! I was literally trembling but luckily a kind of emergency autopilot kicked in. That the company members were incredibly cooperative and skillful helped beyond words. They even held their breaths so as to prevent blurriness in the long exposures!” “The image post-processing took over a week of dedicated mornings (and a few evenings) as I tweaked and printed each image. I used overlays taken from scans graciously provided by Library Company of Philadelphia to add to the war-torn look of the images. This was fast, I’ve been known to take a month to make a print that suits me!”

RA Friedman recently completed a giant zoetrope (primitive mechanical movie device) that centered on the history of the Seventh Street neighborhood in South Philadelphia as part of a Mural Arts project entitled Journeys South. Two of his recent works are scheduled for a show in September at The Merchant’s House Museum, Manhattan along with photographers that include Sally Mann. Additionally, he heads up Tsirkus Fotografika, a vintage portrait project that kicked off in 2008 and now has an archive of over 700 images: More info: http://tsirkus.org and http://rafriedman.com

Vintage Digital Field Test

2011-08-13T15:14:00.001-07:00

I'm generally neurotic about being prepared for shoots, so when the technology is completely new and untested, I'm doubly so. I schlepped the rig with the 210 Schneider lens, the Majestic tripod head, and the rig that trains the digital camera on the focusing screen of a 1950's Crown Graphic to Fitler Square, a nearby park. Being that there were no volunteers swarming to be photographed, I used auto-time.

There is still some flaring at the center of the image, but with the 210, it's greatly reduced. I used what I called "split development" in what is a knock-off of Lightroom that came with my camera. I underexposed at capture and then created two .tif files: one dark (to reign in the flare) and one normal for the rest of the image. I then layered and masked them in Photoshop and pretty much just freely hit the image mask with various grays in that I let blend. I think the overall effect was pretty decent. It kind of looks like a cross between Autochrome and old Kodachrome. I think it will work.

Taking the Leap (With a Bit of Help)

2011-06-21T06:15:00.000-07:00

So you’ve been dreaming of launching a creative career? Or, maybe you are already a working artist who has been aching to do that BIG project and doesn’t quite know how to get it rolling? You may want to investigate http://Kickstarter.com This site is becoming increasingly popular with creative projects ranging from big theatre companies using it for fundraising, to individual artists creating things like hand-printed comic books. What sets Kickstarter apart from sites like Fractured Atlas where people can donate money is that it is interactive. It keeps you in touch with your backers, and also gets your project in front of people who are looking to connect with interesting artists and purchase merchandize directly from the creators.

One important thing you should know about Kickstarter funding is that it is all or nothing. If the project does not make its funding goal, it simply expires without the creator or backers exchanging money or goods. There is plenty of information on the Kickstarter site, which I’m not going to rehash here. This is by no means meant to be the definitive guide or a prescription for success, simply my own perspective and experiences from a project called Stand in the Light, a pinhole photography idea that involves creating images of multiple nude models in grand architectural spaces.

My goal was bare bones: $1200, just enough to do the first of what I hope will be a series of shoots in various cities. Since this was the first time doing anything like this. I had no idea if I’d make it, but after adding up everything I thought I’d need, it seemed reasonable—a reach, but not unreachable. I don’t know a ton a people, but I’m not a hermit either. I had seen a number of Kickstarter projects by others fail by setting goals that were too high, often because they incorporated living and travel expenses into the target number. I didn’t want what I was doing to look like a glorified vacation. I tried to imagine myself as an outsider looking in. Would this excite me enough to part with my hard-earned money?

I decided the best tack was to just be myself. I made the video for the funding page simply by talking to the camera as if I were discussing my work with someone I had just met. (It took about eighteen takes to get it right!) Every request for funding I sent over Facebook was an individually written missive. Each time someone pledged I sent a short “Thank you” email telling them perhaps a little bit about recent goings on.

Prior to launch, I spent much time looking around on the Kickstarter site, seeing what worked for me, what didn’t, trying to find comparable projects, and keeping an eye on their progress. I’d often pledge small amounts of five dollars or less if I found something unusually compelling. I quickly became a bit addicted to perusing what other people were doing and found that it was a great way to get a sense of the current creative scene. Additionally, I set a minimum goal of 500 fans for my photography page on Facebook. Pleas to friends and colleagues to spread the word and get people to “Like” my page helped out a lot.

Also, before going on Kickstarter, I created a catalog of eleven test images which took me about ten months to do. I wanted to be sure that the rather technically unusual process I planned to use was viable. The test run allowed me to estimate how much it would cost to do works on a larger scale, and it also let me decide if this was what I really wanted to work on over the long term. (It was!) The tests served as the premiums rather than having people pledge towards future work. This allowed backers to get their goodies shortly after the funding cycle ended and took some of the pressure off me so I could proceed at my usual tortoise-like pace. Most importantly, I believe, it telegraphed that I was serious and was willing to go the distance by doing my homework.

I did just one mass email, sent a number of individual emails, posted on Facebook, and over the 45 days the project was up I came close to individually messaging about 175 friends and contacts I then had on Facebook. I also posted on Craigslist (no hard evidence that it helped in any way). I should have tracked the hours, but they were considerable. On a per-hour basis it would have been more lucrative to have just gone to my part time job and put in some extra time. Still, much came of the project, which can’t be gauged in money.

Surprisingly, individuals, some who I had not been in close contact with, or didn’t even know, pledged generously. Perhaps not surprisingly, I discovered that it’s very easy for people to hit the “Like” button on Facebook but that doesn’t mean they really understand what you do or are engaged enough to want to fund your efforts. The most common response to emails and messaging was simply: none.

The least fun part of Kickstarter was fulfillment of the art people were to receive for backing me. I was lucky that most of it was catalogs and small photos. I dealt with it by doing the bulk of it in one fell swoop, taking a day to make prints, go to Staples for packaging materials, and stuffing envelopes. On the next go-round I will definitely be thinking of ways to sidestep having to do things like cutting cardboard and making little custom stiffeners. I will surely be standardizing both the items and the packaging.

Despite sometimes feeling like I was howling at the moon, and one day of grunt work, doing this campaign was very exciting. I got a little shiver up my spine every time someone new pledged. Going through this process has given me a model for future fundraising that I need to do when I take the project to its next stage. Much like writing a grant, it brought things into focus. I believe it created a sense of urgency and legitimacy in the public eye, but unlike a grant, it was up to me and my support base to determine if I got to move ahead. Of the 700 or so people I was aware of having been informed about the project, about eight percent came through with pledges, most for less than $30. The $10 level (a hand-printed postcard) was the most popular. I also received a number of off-line contributions either by check or Paypal from people who did not want to deal with either Kickstarter or Amazon, the entity that takes the cash. Although I continually encouraged people to kick-in at the $1 or $2 level, few did. I’m not completely sure why. It may be that, despite my assurances, they were embarrassed to do so, just as nearly no one said they were simply broke and could not contribute.

Another very positive aspect of doing Kickstarter was it put my work in peoples’ hands. Before the campaign I could easily name all the collectors who had my prints. Now more than thirty people have a photo or catalog as part of their collection, with some of the work going as far as the UK. Two larger pledges were from persons I didn’t know that it turns out live in my immediate neighborhood! The project was featured as “Popular this Week” on the Kickstarter site for a number of weeks, so my surmise is a lot of people I don’t know about saw my work as well.

At this juncture I’m putting down the groundwork for the actual shoot to happen in Philadelphia. I will be planning a second Kickstarter campaign when the first one or two major works are complete so that Stand in the Light can move on to another large US city and work with another group of people willing to go nude for art.

The test images are on YouTube as a video which is jump-linked to http://rafriedman.com (Caution: NSFW!) I welcome questions, comments, and suggestions and of course, inquiries concerning purchasing work and/or backing future projects.

Romance, Reality and The Digital Dark Side

2011-05-03T07:45:00.000-07:00

This year, I have likely done more shooting just wandering the streets of Philadelphia than I have since the late 90's. What has motivated it, is not completely clear to me but I think a lot of it has to do with the Stand in the Light pinhole photographs, the pilot series having been recently completed. The post processing took hundreds of hours spread out over many months. I kind of just needed a break, an excuse to bum around the streets, simply me, my thoughts, and the camera; to do more or less straight photography and satisfy my hunger for reality, but also to connect with something vital, alive and ever-shifting.

I've become addicted to the extremely long walks and the meditation it takes to use a public space as my studio, especially as I've become more interested in the idea of simply letting things to come to me, rather than trying to force my own vision on the world. In a sense, I have been testing myself, allowing my mind to just take things in and also to let the distraction flow through me. Of course, flexing one's visual imagination in an open-air setting is just as varied and unreliable as hitting a more traditional work space. I've had days where everything seemed to be magic, where my inner state was Zen-like, others where I couldn't make it fly. But something else has become patently clear: the best currently available tool for these jaunts in the urban landscape is a digital camera.

For years I resisted. I carried a multitude of film jobs, many considered collector's pieces. I would use a digital occasionally and without much seriousness or care, using point-n-shoots, often of low mega pixel-age. It was always film that was for The Work. In fact, I even wrote a missive for The Broad Street Review on why I was shooting film and had side-stepped the digital revolution.

My attitude towards working digitally has changed recently, in fact, it's the only kind of camera I feel motivated to use for shooting pretty much anything outside of a studio type environment. As an irrational human, where my sentiments lead is often at variance with rationality. I try to make a conscious choice as to which is allowed the upper hand. In the creative end of art, what has often been called a waking dream, I'm happy to lead to let sentiment romp all over the mental playground, but when it comes to setting the stage and making the tool and logistical choices, I do my best to be as pragmatic as possible.

All the photos I've done for the recent Digital Landscape series have been done using a 6mp Canon Powershot point-n-shoot. In 2007 its list price was about $700. They are now going on e-Bay for about $40. This speaks more for the rapid advances in technology and depreciation in a market ever hungry for the latest thing rather than this camera's ability to make great photos. The freedom to experiment without concern for film or developing costs, to quickly zoom and reframe shots, and to be able to come home after after being out for many hours and closely look at what I captured and then be able to edit and share the images online, makes the cold, plastic-y, and unromantic silver box the clear winner.

I think Cartier-Bresson once said that one's first ten thousand photographs were the worst. With film, only the most steadfast photographers ever reached that mysterious tipping point. The limitations and lessons I learned from film have not only allowed me to start to really appreciate electronic photography but in many ways are informing what I'm doing with it. Shooting film for years taught me to slow down even though today's digital cameras are fast and nimble and encourage a fast and loose shooting style. Film photography really required the photographer to pre-visualize the final print. Though digital does give you an instant preview of the shot, it still is a far cry from the finished image, so little has really changed. I'm still having to get in tune with how the camera sees.

I guess there was and still is a certain romance to shooting with film, some of the biggest arguments being simplicity and the kind of concentration and near-ceremony using a film camera brings to the whole chain of creating photos. It's tactile and physical too. Part of the attachment for me was I brought up on film. Some of my fondest memories are working in the darkroom whether it was a bathroom, or later a small outbuilding my dad and I built.

The romance ramped up in graduate school when I started getting into antique cameras as real users. I had collected old film cameras as a kid, scouring the junk and estate shops of the Upper West Side in Manhattan for old Kodaks that I bought for a few bucks, but it was in graduate school that I bought my first usable antiques and fell in love with them. While I was at LSU in the early 90's I started simply roaming around with them. I bought a Zeiss Super Ikonta C, a German camera from the fateful year of 1933. Then, not content with one, I bought another. I bought a few 35mm Kodak Retinas from George Mrus, who was then alive and selling nice overhauled items.

The mania for finding the perfect outside/street camera continued into my years in Philadelphia, offering a poor substitute for really going out and making a lot of images. The film cameras kept on multiplying as I tried out different tools. The insanity finally peaked this year when I started looking at Leicas and Voigtlander Bessas as my possible next acquisition. Somehow reason stepped in and though I will likely upgrade soon, it's going to be to a Panasonic Lumix G2, a fairly modest mirror-less digital which is even less sexy than the Canon, but it's compact, has some excellent optics available and will suit my needs. I will still use my Graflex beasts and Crown Graphics for Tsirkus Fotografika and for pinhole work. Vintage folder anyone?

In Search of Alchemy

2011-02-17T05:59:00.000-08:00

I know I've been talking about the BIG project that Tsirkus is launching in April for quite some time. Since I've seen over and again, the results of poor planning and lack of doing one's homework, I really wanted to get at least ten strong test images made before the launch. Well I've hit that.

It has been a real struggle to not throw the photos up online as they got made. I didn't do it because the 72dpi screen really kills the experience of seeing them. I've been test printing the images as I've worked along and the final output is a real print you can hold in your hand, not a screen shot. Still, at some point, one has to give it up to technology and to the patient people who have so lovingly supported the emergence of the project, often from afar, and post the semi-real deal. So, Voila!

Tech details? They weary me. My sage advice is don't try this at home, but if you must know, they were done via multiple pinhole exposures on high-speed instant film. I combined and manipulated the positives and negatives in Photoshop. I don't even want to know how many hundreds of hours have gone into making the full ten. Lots of getting up early and working, and reworking, experimenting, and test printing. Are they ever done? Probably not. I know I will hang them in a gallery and immediately see something I could have done better.

I'd much rather talk about the volumes of notes and thoughts that working on these have generated. It's been like a kind of plummeting into the roots of what feels like everything. If I could say anything in sum, it's been the feeling like somehow all this was waiting for me. OK, not a bad pay-off for over 25 years of banging one's head against the proverbial and living on macaroni and cheese.

I want to thank the very patient and extraordinary models who worked with me and for taking the leap of faith. Let me also say, the other nine images are not work-safe. The photographic rendering celebrates the forms of the human body, so I won't be posting them on Facebook. The plan is create a small catalog and most likely a .pdf file that project supporters can buy and download for a very nominal feel. This will be part of a Kickstarter project that will also be launched in April where people can buy-in to the project by purchasing items from a the aforementioned file to postcards to a large, archival print.

So now, on to the nuts and bolts of things, like making slides, getting press releases out, going on Lulu and making the catalog and the hundred other things needed to get things in gear. More details to follow about how this technique will dovetail with public shoots.

Photo Title: Hide and Seek

Photographer: RA Friedman, c. 2011

Clothing Optional

2011-01-17T16:38:00.000-08:00

OK, I will come clean; the germ of this blog was a Craigslist missive from a novice photographer asking for professional advice on how to get started photographing women nude. I usually resist the temptation to answer such things, primarily because it’s usually just wasted words. Most of the time, I don’t even get a “thank you” for responding. Too, the vast number of people who post queries like this are somehow engaged in a kind of magical thinking; that is, they think that if they just throw their issue out in the world and wish hard enough, someone will provide the easy, pat answer, and all will be well. They don’t want to hear the real truths, which involve uncertainty, a bit of luck and most of all, hard work.

But I had a moment of indiscretion, and every so often I feel expansive with the desire to pass on what little wisdom I may have accumulated related to things that most people don’t care about. Additionally, I’m curious about whether my ideas are received and the dialogue that ensues. I love to teach, I just loathe formal educational environments. The possibility of winning over a young heart and mind to the path of creative anarchy is like putting a sardine in front of a starved alley cat-- I pounced. I sent this person the “five minute version” (no answer as of this post date) and have expanded my ideas below.

First, if you are not the type who takes a self-inventory every now and then and you’re determined to add galleries of flesh to your portfolio, my best advice is: Stop reading now! What I’ve written below will not change your mind and will simply annoy you.

As subject matter, the nude is creatively dangerous. For one, we still live in a country where the human body is seen as something from which people must shield their eyes and thoughts. You are likely to be plagued by questions concerning your own reasons for photographing raw human anatomy and will need to unravel what on earth you are doing, given the glut of nudes, especially of women as photographed by men. Nude photography requires dealing with one’s own complex motivations plus those of a living self-determining and ever-shifting subject who has invested a lot of trust in both you and your creative abilities. By peeling away the physical barrier of clothing, a social and cultural boundary is removed, putting both the subject and the photographer in a new psychological space that can be disquieting. Even after years of drawing and painting from the figure as well as making many photographic images, I still find working with a live model challenging and even a bit nerve wracking. There are occasional moments in the studio where I avert my eyes, feeling my gaze is too intimate and that I’ve transgressed an unspoken boundary. Add to all this the thorny process of attempting to make really excellent photographs, and you can see why things can get difficult and messy.

The art historian Kenneth Clarke wrote: “No nude, however abstract, should fail to arouse in the spectator some vestige of erotic feeling, even if it be only the faintest shadow - and if it does not do so it is bad art and false morals.” If you believe this, there is no playing it “safe.” I find so called “figure studies” that just show the beauty of the human body, to be pretty uninteresting since they take a human being, something alive, chaotic and unpredictable and turn it into still life.

There are more practical problems as well. For every potential subject you invite to be photographed, be he or she professional model or amateur, you are automatically suspect until proven otherwise. At worst you are a potential rapist who buries people in the basement, but more likely you will be potentially looked at as being something much more prosaic. With the advent of digital photography, there has been an explosion of “GWC’s” or “Guys With Cameras”—men whose interest in photography doesn’t go much further than whether their pricey new equipment will get a woman to take her clothes off. These poseurs waste the model’s time snapping photos that are mediocre and are often last seen during the shoot on the camera’s lcd screen.

The best solution to the above is to be professional, even formal in how you present yourself, what your project is and what you want to do. These days most modeling gigs are worked out online. What you write in your posts and emails are often all someone responding to your subject search has to go on. Be forthright about the state of your experience, circumstances and budget. Have a project or better yet, specific shots in mind that you want to execute. Explain your purpose and intended use of the images. If the model wants to bring a friend or significant other to the shoot, let them. If a model wants to meet you ahead of time to make sure you are OK, go have a cup of coffee and bring some prints. Having a face-to-face meeting before the shoot helps the work go better in my experience. You have a sense of the person ahead of time.

Minimally, have a page on Model Mayhem or One Model Place where people you’ve worked with can “tag” you and write about their positive experiences working with you. Pay your models, if at all possible, even if it’s just a modest show-up fee. Secure a good space to work in, even if you have to rent an hourly studio. Prepare.

More important than covering the professional bases, as I alluded to previously, consider the model’s perspective. In fact, I’d go as far as to suggest you take a stab at modeling nude to get a feel for the kind of vulnerability it engenders and how difficult it really is. I had the full and somewhat mortifying experience in college. Being very broke, I was a figure model for a weekend drawing group attended by a rather sleazy-looking man who invited me to do a “private session” at his house. Yes, guys get harassed too!

My experience is people model, regardless of whether they are clothed or not, because they are interested in being in collaborations with creative people. They enjoy the process of evolving tableaux for the camera and the surprises that happen when an image reflects them in a totally new and interesting way. As a photographer, you are in a sense, helping them explore who they are. It’s really a give and take and the more the photographer invests in making a great image, the more something primary from the subject comes through in the photos. If I can be a bit lofty for a moment, this is really what the photographer is “returning” to the model and the world. On a more grounded note, make sure you deliver the files and prints you promise. If you do this, my guess is you will have no shortage of people who will want to create the kind of images you envision.

So how to start? Contrary to what all the photography and art schools would like you to believe, nobody really “studies” photography; you just jump in. The first nudes I did, I put an ad on Craigslist looking for volunteers and I found a few as well! The shots were not stellar, but I learned a lot and I got over a lot of the anxiety I had about working with nude subjects one-on-one. From there I made more and just continued on doing them and a lot of other studio work. The operative word being “work.”

The Zoe Strauss Problem

2010-12-30T12:48:00.000-08:00

I've never been a big fan of Zoe Strauss. I've always found it more engaging to criticize Strauss' work than to look to it for what is magical. I have a colleague that is obsessively jealous of Zoe's success. Nary has a conversation gone by about the state of creating work and the market for photography that her name hasn’t come up. Certainly her career has been kind of like the character of Pecker in the eponymous movie by John Waters, where a kid from an eccentric family with no formal training (Does Strauss have a college degree even?) in a gritty working class enclave picks up a cheap 35mm Canonet rangefinder camera (sometimes called a “poor man’s Leica” and one of my favorite cameras) and within months has a show at Cheim and Reid. Art diverges from life in that Strauss' rise to stardom was much slower, taking years (and assuredly much hard work) and built by cultivating a huge following via her public art project--exhibiting her yearly work under the I-95 underpass for a full decade.

Those unfamiliar with her work can find it here: http://zoestrauss.blogspot.com/

My obsessed colleague is a fine black and white printer and his work is crisp, precisely composed; the images pop and jump; they are labors of loving perfection in the service of visual beauty, much like abstract paintings that one enjoys simply for what they do for your retinas and soul. Viewing the pieces is akin to walking into a grand cathedral even if you are not religious; you are uplifted by the grandeur. What is primarily captured is the photographer’s affection and dedication to working in the medium: photography about photography. The subject matter and the artist largely disappear. Such work inhabits the realm of the connoisseur. It's a very hard sell, especially in Philadelphia, perhaps anywhere, and requires a kind of appreciation that has to be sought out in the way one searches for four-leafed clovers. Strauss, on the other hand could have her work printed at the Walgreens down the block and people would still be clambering for it. She is not what you would call a "photographer's photographer." It's not the honing of the photographic qualities of her work that "make" the shots. She uses a DSLR set on "full-auto"-basically point-and-shoot. I don't believe she does anything but relatively basic editing and corrections in Photoshop and is not an obsessive perfectionist when it comes to the printmaking; the photos verge on snapshots.

David Shields coined the phrase "reality hunger" to describe the state of modern society. That is, we experience very little reality in our daily lives; therefore artists are consistently trying to sneak more and more reality or the impression of it into their oeuvre. In photography, the world hankers for images that take the viewer into places wherein only a solitary soul has been able to gain access, be this physical, temporal, spiritual or emotional. If the work fails, it's because it fits the ever-heard exclamation: "Been there, done that!" The ingenuity, the artfulness of Strauss's work is that she knows how to squeeze her self and her lens into that impossibly tight cranny or, more likely, give the impression that she has. By doing this she cuts to the chase concerning the core underpinnings of much contemporary photography. Journalists love to talk about her South Philly neighborhood, the characters, etc, but the truth is, everyone lives some place weird. The world is utterly surreal. It's Strauss's ability to throw her self into that bizarre world and still come up for air that makes it all tick. The mystery, and the thing to be envied as someone who too wants to succeed and navigate the snark-infested waters of the art world, is not her popular appeal but her uncanny ability, to do a kind of voodoo-like magic: the combination of internal and outward transformations necessary to make her striking images, and to do it smack in the middle of rough streets.

I've been thinking about this, of course, because of my own work much of which is more synthetic and connected to the process of photographic printmaking. As I sit at my part-time job, I have visions of hitting the streets, maybe with a Leica a la Cartier-Bresson or Gary Winogrand. I feel pulled to the work of the great street photographers and can't help but think "Yeh, this is what IT is about." Yet as I move away from daydreams and take stock of who I am, I've come to realize that a great deal of the work I’ve done up to now succeeds (I hope) because I've been able to gain access to a unique interior space within myself. As my work has progressed over the years, I'd like to believe I've become more frank and open about letting people view that landscape, as well as becoming more adept at making what is essentially invisible, visible, and therefore "real." I thrive on solitude and working with models in intimate, controlled settings, or trekking the urban landscape with a camera. So, a dilemma has arisen for me, certainly a good one and to be considered as well as acted upon. "I should grab my camera, get an unlimited pass on Greyhound, land where I may and just jump around the country taking photos," my aforementioned colleague said to me a few summers ago. I thought it was a great idea and being one that knows the future is always uncertain, encouraged him to do it NOW, to just go and ramble; take the chance. His instincts had figured out something primary long before his conscious mind had.

Photo: RA Friedman, "Broad and Tasker"

In the footsteps of the magic lantern show:

2010-12-16T04:30:00.000-08:00

15 December 2010

Figurative artist RA Friedman is once again bringing his unique craft directly to his audience with a series of old school 35mm slide shows planned for 2011 to be presented in Philadelphia and New York City. Friedman, who is often seen behind a lumbering, antique reflex camera, has been shooting vintage-style portraits at various events since 2005. The project became Tsirkus Fotografika in 2008 and currently shuttles between Philadelphia and New York city shooting at everything from animal shelter fundraisers to jazz-age events, to all-night warehouse parties.

The half-hour presentation, containing some of Tsirkus’s most memorable and intriguing images from an archive of nearly five-hundred portraits, will trace the evolution of the project and its vision from humble and accidental beginnings to its current position: that of maintaining a very busy shooting schedule, an archive website, plus planning a launch of a new public arts project in 2011 RA will also discuss his highly unorthodox photo methodology informed by his fine arts background, which involves creating mysterious, and often haunting images from the usually thrown-away instant film negatives.

RA Friedman's work was recently featured in New York Magazine. He is currently working on an artist's fellowship with The City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Project. He lives and works in his studio in the South Square neighborhood of Philadelphia.

Photo by Frank Siciliano of Steamed Punk Labs

2011 Plans

2010-12-13T03:55:00.000-08:00

Tsirkus is now going into it's third year. The project first flew the banner as a sponsored non-profit project in October 2008 at The Brooklyn Indie Market. 2011 promises to be an exciting year with some big plans in the works.

I've been experimenting with pinhole imaging and painting with light to create complex multi-figure works in fairly large interior spaces.I haven't posted these in any official place as yet, mostly because I want to hold off until the project is really underway and possibly offer a "secret link."

I'm gratified that people have actually found this blog up to now without any prompting. My plan is to do a fundraiser on Kickstarter, an online resource for raising money for creative projects. Currently I have 162 "fans" on the Tsirkus Facebook page. When we reach the tentative goal of 500, I'll launch the fundraiser.

The Internet is not magic. Money does not just fall into one's lap, which is why I'm doing the homework--networking, talking to people, bringing them the test prints to look at (if you're in Philly or get to NYC, I'm happy to do so), but most of all working hard in the studio to make images that are unique and worth the viewer's time.

With that being said, tell your friends!

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Tsirkus-Fotografika/102587023588

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Tsirkus-Fotografika/102587023588

Richard Avedon

2010-11-25T04:40:00.000-08:00

I believe in maniacs. I believe in type As. I believe that you’ve got to love your work so much that it is all you want to do. I believe you must betray your mistress for your work, you betray your wife for your work; I believe that she must betray you for her work. I believe that work is the one thing in the world that never betrays you, that lasts. If I were going to be a politician, if I were going to be a scientist, I would do it every day. I wouldn’t wait for Monday. I don’t believe in weekends. If you’re headed for a life that’s only involved with making money and that you hope for satisfaction somewhere else, you’re headed for a lot of trouble. And whatever replaces vodka when you’re 45 is what you’re going to be doing. - Richard Avedon - 1988

"Aha" Moments

2010-10-29T02:52:00.000-07:00

(Painting: RA Friedman, 1994 "Little Girl Lost," acrylic on canvas paper, approx 14" x 11", whereabouts unknown.)

Recently, Brainard Carey, an artist who also does career development asked the question about peoples' "Aha" moments for a book on which he is working. I was thinking about this question and also a statement that I've seen at least from a few well-known artists: "When I first saw a work by "X," it was like coming home"--an immediate sense of visual recognition that seems to run through the history of modern painting.

I never had that. Instead, I perceived, or more likely, felt there was something about the lives of creative people that I yearned to have for myself. I believed they were on to and tuned into something. I wanted to belong to "the club." In large measure my conception was highly romanticized and in many ways untrue. I saw only the gemutlichkeit and not the struggles and pains. The greatest internal pull was exercised by my undergraduate drawing teacher, Charles Eldred, which almost anyone who studied with him will attest to. When I entered both his physical and psychological space, I knew "This is what I want to do."

The odd part is (and perhaps this is my "aha" moment for today) is I was not particularly skilled and though I looked at a lot of visual art, did not "get it" either visually or conceptually. Drawing was a kind of therapy for me. My ideas did not translate well into pencil and paint but rather came forth in small, fortuitous moments which were enough to muddle me through via sheer hard work. I never really figured out how to evolve a powerful overall statement that was hand-made. Ironically, within the last year or so, now that I'm working in another media (photography), I can approach a piece of paper as an overall visual field, rather than starting with atomized pieces or ideas that I then struggle (and fail to) unite. I might even make some paintings this year.

Upcoming Shoots!

2010-10-19T03:35:00.000-07:00

Just a quick note to keep everyone updated!

Tsirkus will be at Brooklyn Indie Market's Steampunk III, Sunday, Oct 24 and at Masquerade Macabre from Gemini and Scorpio on Oct. 30/31 (all night party).

Jazz Age Lawn Party 07/17 and 07/18/10

2010-07-19T07:04:00.000-07:00

It seems as if the weather rarely cooperates for outside shoots, so one must be ready for just about anything. In this case it was extreme heat. On the second day, I drank approximately five liters of fluid (mostly just plain water). Luckily the shoot was on Governors Island, an oasis out in the middle of NY harbor that is about a twenty minute ferry ride from lower Manhattan. Being away from all the cars and the buildings helped a lot. There is also a cool ocean-like breeze.

I decided this time I absolutely had to something to mediate between me and the elements. I bought a very light dining fly at I. Goldberg for this trip. I did at least open the thing up before I left, but I was not able to set it up. When I got to Governors Island, I realized the design of the thing was just wrong. There was nothing to keep the support poles vertically attached to the top. It really needed an extra set of supports. So, I cut the shock cords and made two long poles and created a kind of improvised curved shell with one end securely staked to the ground. This also obviated the need for a backdrop and holder.

The second day, I really got things down adding some breasting lines as well. I was quite pleased at how clean it looked and it also provided a fair amount of sun protection for most of the day.

Both days of shooting were quite good. The first day was brisk, picking up in the late afternoon. Evelyn Kriete styled and assisted. G.D. Falksen also tagged along and helped with the finishing of the images. Sunday, I was on my own and it was slow up until the very end when a flurry of shooting rounded out the day. I made the 6:00 ferry and hit lower Manhattan with all my gear and a bag full of wet instant film negatives by about 6:20.

I then proceeded up to my cousin's place near 60th and Broadway over land. The whole rig was too large to even think about putting on the subway alone and the taxi fare for a 6.35 mile (I checked this on Mapquest) would have killed any profit I might have made; but moreover, I hate adding to the burning of fossil fuels if there is an alternative. It was decent day for summer and the temperature had dropped to a cool 86F, so I hoofed it. Foolishly, I just followed Broadway, going through some very dense areas: Soho, Union Square, Herald Square, Times Square and Columbus Circle. The whole trip took about two hours, which is about average for human locomotion--three miles per hour.

So many people out! Many tourists and I did my best to be tolerant of them slow-poking along. I also needed to be sure I didn't nail anyone in the shins with my wide load. I did surprising well. As I traveled, especially in the Times Square area, I saw so many artists on the street just trying to scrape out a few pennies. I imagined their workday--sitting there in the hellish heat, uninvited, in a largely uncontrolled and indifferent environment and probably having to scrounge for a badly needed bathroom and having to wait undue time for relief in the waiting line.

A cool apartment with my own room and bath was awaiting me the end of the day. Sometimes we don't realize how lucky and privileged we are. My cousin, who has become a kind of "angel" to my undertakings insisted I take a cab to the bus station on the final return, which I did, but I again went over the streets on the Philadelphia end, about two miles.

Portrait pics to follow in the next few days on http://tsirkus.org

A Craig's Post and Reply

2010-07-13T04:15:00.001-07:00

The Craig's Post:

"I am looking for a photographer (professional or not) that can teach me a thing or two. I have a nice DSLR camera and can work my way around it but there is much I still have to learn and I constantly have questions. I'm not looking to pay anyone for this but if you are someone that is eager to pass on some of your wisdom and come along side me to teach me a few things - I would greatly appreciate it. I have an eye for photography and I prefer outdoor photography but I really need to learn more about indoor photography so I don't shy away from opportunities to shoot indoors.

Hope to hear from you!"

___________________________________

The Reply:

Hi:

Here are my thoughts:

Create a list of your questions, then research them for a week or two or three and see how many you can knock off your list. Most tech. information is out there

either in books or online. I've spent time in Barnes and Nobles just perusing what they have lapping up free knowledge. Also, a lot of camera shops, like Calumet will answer tech. questions.

Once you have a kind of "hot list"--those quandaries that nobody seems to have the answers to, post it! You might try the artist's forum on Craig's since there are a lot

of photographers in that pool. Pro's are generally amenable to answering something specific.

My guess is, you'll find the tough questions, nobody really has the answers to, or the answer varies from job to job or photographer to photographer. There is no "right" answer only what works for your own work. This is the difficult and also the exciting part about photography--there is no "royal road" and each photographer really has to find their own path, do their own experiments, and find out what works. It may be that to really answer these issues it may take years of work and practice. That is, they are just a starting point.

Ultimately, photography is really about dealing with yourself and your subject matter and how you position yourself in that mix. The really successful photographers have a strong bond with what they photograph, they know it intimately, perhaps are even obsessed. The photography is just a tool and often a lonely road that can be one of the most fulfilling experiences as well. Enjoy!

Cheers,

Christiane Baumgartner

2010-03-25T04:21:00.000-07:00

Charles Eldred, one of my undergraduate teachers said: "One day you will make a piece that will make all the others that came before it look bad. Is that a good day or a bad day?" My surmise now is it has to be "good" for just like writing, one puts what is inside to the outside as a way of clearing the way and moving ahead. I have often joked that graduate school was a good investment because it allowed me to make all the bad paintings I needed to do so I would never do them again. Essentially this is true: artists don't just pop out of the creative womb as finished entities. We stumble around a lot, especially at the outset and the tuition is long, or certainly longer, I believe than most people realize. But then, what happens when you're stumbling around and you find someone else, far off your artistic radar has been following similar issues and has not only explored some of your ideas, they have realized them brilliantly and garnered great acclaim?

My own work has pulled together a lot in the last two years, but it was both humbling, difficult, and I also believe, ultimately important, that I stumbled upon Baumgartner's work only to realize what I'm doing is art that is only just emerging. The lecture I attended last night with the artist and Julien Robson from PAFA really drove home the idea that if I could level one BIG criticism at graduate school, it is that it fundamentally lacked the power of experiences such as observing first hand the interaction between an artist at the top of her game and a curator who is brilliantly insightful. The blame does not rest squarely on the purveyors of my advanced degree. Looking back, probably all of us, were not ready to consider such critical ideas; we were too wrapped up in our own issues--many simply still struggling with the raw materials of our craft, painting. Perhaps too, many of us were just too overwhelmed or too self-involved so that the mental conduits needed to re-shape our thinking were just not open.

Much as Baumgartner's work exquisitely melds form and concept (including notions that relate to my own work) and visually embodies many of the characteristics I want my own pieces to possess, one must believe there is always room for one's own unique voice, one's own way of working. To feel more than a momentary pang of jealousy for the success of another is to deny the uniqueness and value of one's own experience and vision, to suffer a kind of spiritual death. There is a folktale entitled Tree of Sorrows where all the town's people, hang their woes for a day like fruit so that they may pick and chose what cross they will bear. Naturally, in the end, they chose their own. The experience, the moving through time via creation-- the giving of vital force and concrete and lasting form to that which is inside myself, that which is ever-growing, dying, and bedeviling me, that is what matters; that is what will let me find repose. What I'm going through now, even as I sort out my thoughts concerning the events of the last day, will ultimately inform what I will make tomorrow . I really would have it no other way. The joy is the transcendence that I will only find through unraveling my own riddle.

What If A Portrait Studio From 1920 Suddenly Appeared In Your 'hood ?

2010-03-09T03:31:00.000-08:00

Whether it's creativity or not, something happens when I start making images that feels like I'm tuning into something. Unfortunately, I'm my own worst enemy when it comes down to focusing in (no pun intended) and proposing projects to be funded. My imagination packs its trunk and takes a holiday in Diluth. Luckily, I have a lot of great people around me who can see things a bit more from the outside.

I met with Amie Potsic yesterday. She's the director of The Center for Emerging Visual Artists here in Philadelphia. We talked about grants, looked at work and discussed what I really wanted to do. I went in feeling rather diffuse, but left with the germ of an idea that I just have to follow: a real, live 1920's style photo studio, albeit a temporary one. Most likely the portraits would be free.

The notion dovetails perfectly with the type of photography I've been doing. It too fits perfectly the idea of making a real community connection. I'll actually be IN the neighborhood and become a working part of it. The prospect of having a creative space with props, accessories, costumes and backdrops at my disposal, rather than having to shlep eighty pounds of gear and be limited by what I can physically carry, is vastly appealing; but moreover it should allow a very different, more meaningful and sophisticated body of work to emerge.

The idea of a pop-up storefront studio has been done before by others, but never as a long-term project. I'm hoping to be in-residence for four to six months. It really all depends on economics. 7th Street in deep South Philadelphia, where I hope to continue my community-based art, had once been a nexus of Jewish immigrants and Jewish-owned stores. None remain today. So, there is an added poignancy in my doing this, an additional eccentric circle drawn in the sands of history.

Now the real work begins.

Steampunk Photography: Reinventing the Mechanical Image.

2010-03-04T03:31:00.001-08:00

Steampunk World's Fair, May 14, Piscataway, NJ.

Forget that point-n-shoot and cookbook methods for making sepia images in Photoshop, and definitely DO try this at home!

Join alchemical photographic wizard RA Friedman, founder of Tsirkus Fotografika, for a rollicking old-school visual presentation as he discusses his unique DIY analog/digital methodology; one that has defined the forefront of Steampunk Photography. Highlights from the large archive of retro-futurists Friedman and crew have photographed will be shown, as well as studio images. Caution: contains artistic, but sometimes graphic nudity. A brief no-holds-barred Q&A will follow.

So You or Your Kid Want to Be a Photographer?

2010-02-13T04:34:00.000-08:00

I recently received a missive from someone whose daughter, a high school senior was interested in becoming a photographer and looking to apprentice or intern. I've edited and expanded a bit.

_____________________________________________________

Many commercial photographers are not artists. Many are just good technicians who know how to make competent work that pleases the customers, which is really not all that challenging. Many make a good living and enjoy it. There are exceptions to the rule, but they appear to be few and far between.

The commercial photographer I worked for inspired me, but in a very indirect way. It was clear that the guy was a repressed poet, but he never tried to express himself even with his photography. Instead, he read Jung, Ouspensky and the like, went to all kinds of esoteric groups and had discussions that to many, including my dad, an engineer, were incomprehensible. I loved listening to him as we worked together in the darkroom, endless hours of classical music (mostly Chopin) playing int he background on a Sony reel-to-reel recorder.

Since we were photographing paintings, prints and sculpture (his specialty) the pieces themselves intrigued me, opening up worlds I didn't know existed. In terms of photography, the methodology we used was pretty stock and didn't change much. He was very skillful and had a great eye, which is not to be discounted.* I learned too from him that simple tools can give great results when used properly. As an assistant, I could almost go on auto-pilot. I continued working for him, because I liked him and his wife and it got me out of my parents' house and into NYC occasionally to work. I could leave school early, which was an added bonus.

The best education for a photographer who really wants to create is art school. The technical part can be learned from books, the Internet, or other photographers. Finding a way "in" to your work, or as one of my drawing teachers used to say "finding you work" is the main thing. I never took a single photography class, You really don't need to pay for a college course to learn to develop film. Printing, I taught myself. Even digital is really not rocket science. The hard part is the conceptual piece; positioning yourself to actually work. Ay, there's the rub.

If I had not spent years drawing and drawing, I would not be able to do what I do now. I continue to draw and still find new things in it.

I never worked for free. When I started out as an apprentice, it was 1974 or 5 (no, I'm not ancient, I was barely more than a kid) and I got $1.50 an hour. Working for free implies one's labor is not valued and there is no commitment from either end. Avoid.

The fine art photography world is pretty much like the art world. Only a handful of people are making their living off of making prints. Most are teaching, shooting weddings and babies, giving seminars, have a fall-back job or a wealthy spouse. This is not to say "don't do it," but unless one is truly obsessed, there are way easier methods to survive and make a living. The advent of digital photography has totally diluted the market and now everyone and no one is a photographer. The competition for even routine work is fierce with people even offering to do it for free (bad move). Part of why I founded Tsirkus was to find a niche and it was a natural outgrowth of my own interests. But let me say too, Tsirkus has never really made a profit. It has gotten me other gigs (like the Pew Fellowship I'm now working under) and a few other paid jobs, but it is not a complete living. I still have to do other things to make a go of it, and I'm still living in near-poverty.

Lastly,Treat all photographic chemicals as if they were cyanide. Developers are the most dangerous; luckily they are safer now than when I was first working. I know of so many traditional photographers that are now ill in their older years with Parkinson's or nerve issues, including the photographer with which I apprenticed.

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer

Photo by Man Ray, one of the pieces we photographed "back in the day." I was shocked to find it recently sold for nearly $300K.

*Some 30,000 negatives by this man, shot from 1960 to the mid 1990's are soon to be on deposit at The Library of the National Gallery of Art in Washington.

Yes Virgina, There Will be a Book!

2009-12-25T10:50:00.000-08:00

I wrote this possibly for use in a book about Steampunk that Evelyn Kriete is working on and/or as the preface for a book I'd like to put together with the shots from the public shoots.

Reversed scan from about 05/07/05. This is the shot that started it all. Pulling the old disc to unearth this, I noticed I had labeled them "Ghost Images."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"I am plagued by the thought that I am perhaps the last of my ilk; that I have jumped through a window in time and have a connection to a recent past that reaches still further back and, be it either real or imaginary, if I don't give it form, it will vanish."

I most often shoot with a ponderous Graflex Super D built in the 1940’s. This giant single lens reflex camera features a leather covered mahogany box that I peer down into via a chimney-like hood and a shutter mechanism that works much like a window shade. The instrument moves at the speed of a turtle and requires everything to be manually set. I don't use strobes, but instead, plain 200 watt house lamps in old style reflectors. My exposures are relatively slow and can be disturbed by bouncy floors or subjects that move. The digital manipulation of my negatives requires careful handwork to reconstruct the images and the time from capture to final print can be days or longer. Why, in an age where cameras can handle all photographic functions quickly and automatically, go to all that bother?

There is something very reassuring in knowing that as long as there is light, I can make a photograph, but there is much more to it. What a digital camera can do is no less than amazing, but the seamless and relatively foolproof technology comes at a price. Digital photography is largely an out-of-the-box affair and a non-physical, non-tactile medium. The pristine, impersonal way a photographer is led to interface with the digital image-making chain, can create a void, a distinct lack of connection to the creative process. Using a large format camera that requires a methodology that is slow, physical, calculated and relatively difficult; it transforms the photographic act, giving it a sense of direction and ceremony. I see the image as it takes shape on the big ground glass screen, feel the mass and solidity of the instrument, smell the ancient mustiness of the focusing hood, and hear the “plunk” of the shutter mechanism, intuitively sensing whether it is working properly; the link is almost visceral. The whole picture taking process requires not only mindful concentration, but also cooperation and interchange between subject, assistant, and camera operator. What it is usually a very one-sided operation, wherein the photographer simply grabs a likeness is transformed into a collaborative dialogue.

As an undergraduate, one of my painting professors, Angelo Ippolito said of a piece, perhaps one of mine: “It’s too clean, you need to mess it up a bit.” Paradoxical, but what I believe he was getting at was that the visual structure and execution was too pat. The artist hadn’t really set a challenge, something “messy” with which to work so as to find an interesting and vibrant solution. Perhaps the most valuable thing I learned as an undergrad was that the “interesting stuff” is a subconscious process; that creativity happens when you set to work on problems, by indirection, not by trying to create “art;” frequently the end product takes even the creator by surprise.

Though I have been taking pictures since I was five, it’s only recently that I found a way to work with photography that would lead to interesting solutions. The images I previously made were largely about being at the right place at the right time, framing the shot with skill and making good, technically solid prints. I would often set out, camera in hand, with all kinds of romantic notions in my head only to come back sorely disappointed. I largely moved away from photography in favor of painting and drawing, since these media raised issues I could dig into. In graduate school, in conjunction with small paintings I was making, I started using antique roll-film cameras perhaps thinking that doing this would visually inform the work in some significant way. The commitment though, was more to the act of painting on top of and collaging these images than the photography itself, which was still too abstract for me; I could only carry around a shadowy vision of what my photography might be.

In May 2005, a chain of odd circumstances led to the photographic "mess" I had long needed. I was visiting my parents, who live in the heart of the Catskill Park in upstate New York, when a large storage freezer failed and needed to be emptied. Buried beneath the crystallized tubs of ice cream, desiccated London broils, and chickens frozen since 1987 were approximately 38 rolls of old-style Polaroid film that my dad had squirreled away in the late 1970’s when Polaroid stopped its manufacture and the local department store had dumped the remaining stock for $1 a roll. My dad gave me not only the film, but also the swanky Polaroid 110B camera that went with it. Before I left to go back to Philly, he insisted I take one shot of my friend Dana who had driven me there. My dad kept the positive, but I plunked the paper negative inside the camera case, I guess as a kind odd memento since the film was over thirty years old. When I got home, I scanned the negative in color and reversed it to see what it the image would look like. It was fascinating! The image was eerie and painterly at the same time. I had gone from using photography to inform painting, to painting informing photography. I was hooked.

Soon after, along with two colleagues, the cache of Polaroid film was used up via free portrait shoots we did in front of The Book Trader in Philadelphia during the Philly Fringe. I bought a Speed Graphic so I could use the then available Polaroid sheet film and tried various emulsions both in-date and expired. The whole experimental process fueled itself bringing me to the point where I am now. Polaroid peel-apart film is now over a year out of production and I can only get instant film imported from Japan made by Fuji. The film's characteristics are nowhere near as interesting as some of the older stocks I used to employ. I cannot wax too nostalgic since this is the photographer's lot; we have to roll with the times, adapting to the available materials. Also, I discovered that what I considered to be the amazing properties of the film were not that critical. Sure, they created some serendipitous points of departure, but there are other ways to create happy accidents or find a direction based on where the image may be pointing. The vision has become internalized.

This more organic way of working that I evolved has often been referred to as “Steampunk Photography.” Ironically, I don’t consider myself part of that sub-culture and never set out to be; yet my background and creative motivations, led me in a similar direction. Like the Steampunks one of my goals is to bridge past to present-- to be romantically modern. A perhaps fictive past where things were less complex, tangibly inventive, and on more of a human scale, what I’d call a kind of “old energy,” has been with me since I was a kid. I grew up in an enormous converted circa 1889 mansion across the street from the Ansonia Hotel in New York City. The neighborhood, in my childhood years was full of estate shops and I had a field day browsing through them, amassing a fairly large collection of old cameras, 78rpm records, pocket watches and other interesting stuff, like the scrapbook of an Edison recording artist, Leola Lucy, who was on the “tone-test” circuit, a kind of “Is it live or is it an Edison Diamond Disc?” sales pitch from the 1920’s.

Though I started out in the sciences (art was not considered by my family to be a “real” profession), I ended up with a BA in theatre set design and eventually an MFA in painting. I have never taken a photography class. My dad bought me my first darkroom kit, a simple set-up for making contact prints and I learned mostly on my own. As a teenager I worked for Nathan Rabin, whose archive will soon be part of the National Gallery Library, a photographer who got fantastic results using simple tools.

While my art training was far from “classical,” I did countless figure studies. As an undergraduate at Harpur College in Binghamton, New York, I took classes with sculptor Charles Eldred. Eldred lived a time warp, which was his own world that hovered between past and present. Arguably his art was “Steampunk” long before the label existed. His pieces often centered on a romantic and re-invented vision of the past, particularly in the post-industrial Triple Cities, where he grew up. The work was not anachronistic; it was fresh and modern.

The creative bridge to the past Eldred was able to build and the feelings it embodied stayed with me though it took a long time to finally emerge full force. It took much experimentation and artistic stumbling around before things started to gel. I drew a lot and also made paintings. I might have made a career as a painter, but the pieces never seemed to be quite “there,” as if the medium were still fighting me. The work did not meet my standards.

My undergraduate teachers also instilled in their students a concept that is now largely out of sync with today’s visual world: that the “how” is more important than the “what.” That is, the way an image “speaks” with visceral immediacy via its visual construction far outweighs any grandiose conceptual conceit the artist may profess. Rare or shocking subject matter needs the backbone of an inter-linked formal invention, or it is just flash-in-the-pan sensationalism. I guess you could say I'm "old school," insisting on craftsmanship, thoughtfulness, and depth; yearning for the poetic. When much of what is being produced now is forgotten, I believe these values will prevail.

RA Friedman, principal photographer

A possible turning point: 12/13/09

2009-12-13T13:28:00.000-08:00

(Self-portrait drawing by RA Friedman, 1986.)

I'm just back from NYC where I did a shoot where there was only one customer. Sometimes this happens; it's just not the right "crowd." Fortunately, this is the only time it has happened when I had to get the gear to and from Phila. to NYC and back. When I shoot out of townI have to hope that one of my very generous friends or relatives is available to let me crash. If I had to factor in a hotel, the whole Tsirkus project would really be in the red.

I have much to be thankful for even if I didn't get to hit the heights with my old Graflex Super D. I got to see my friends Joe and Steph, who is an artist (website: stephart.com) and their nine-month old daughter, Olivia. I managed to negotiate the NYC subways with eighty pounds of gear in fine fettle. I found an excellent new assistant who handled the lack of traffic with grace and good humor. I made some professional contacts.

Most of all, I had time to think about the Tsirkus project and where I want it to go and how to steer it. For the long term, what's the most important thing for it and how do I want it to fit into my overall plans/goals as an artist? I'm still not sure how I want to craft/re-craft the model.

Really the most important thing about Tsirkus has been that it is a way to connect with a lot of creative people, but moreover allow folks to creatively play. I feel strongly that is hugely important in these times and in this particular culture in which I find myself. On the flip side, I have to be realistic about the wear and tear on myself, my gear, my friends/relatives, and my bank account, especially if the shoot turns out to be less than fortuitous.

Stay tuned for updates as the "Tsirkus saga" evolves.

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer

First plan drawing for a set of modern magic lantern slides.

2009-11-30T12:43:00.001-08:00

First drawing made for the "33 Things about being an artist" project.

One of the things I love about drawing, being alone in the studio, away from the phone and email, is all the ideas that flow through my head.

My goal is to make 33 images within the next two months and then to turn them into a magic lantern show.

I'm loving the public and community work I'm doing, but there are ideas, emotions, commentaries, satires and loci of humor that need an outlet and this is my "box" for them. I may take some heat for these, then again, my experience has been that which you worry over is usually just ignored.

I was thinking today, my story is not so unusual, what is, is that I survived long enough, learned enough, studied enough, and worked enough to give it form.

My New York City (Photo) Marathon

2009-11-03T07:55:00.001-08:00

Photos here: Just click!

Who: Tsirkus, Liz from Design Glut, Gemini and Scorpio.
What: Amazing late night Halloween Party--Masquerade Macabre
Where: The far east end of Bergen Street, Brooklyn--Brooklyn Urban Sanctuary.
Why: Because to have missed this adventure would have been a pity.
How: You want us to give away all our secrets?
Small Miracle: Every negative made it home safely and dried nicely.
Trivia: All the equipment was wheeled over city streets from 66th and Broadway to 86 Allen Street in Manhattan on the return trip in order to avoid the NYC subway crush. Mapquest shows this as 4.91 miles.
Time taken to scan all negatives: 5.5 hours
Time to edit: ?? It's a work in progress. This is a first, having this many images to refine. Images will be added as they are edited. If you don't see your shot, stay tuned!

This was a real adrenaline rush requiring no caffeine to keep awake. Forty three frames were shot over the course of four hours at a high-energy, music filled bash in the wilds of Brooklyn.
(By way of accounting, 3 were misfires, 3 were gratis. for a total of 37 paid shots.)

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer

Perhaps a bit too Steamy?

2009-10-26T03:51:00.000-07:00

OK: Photos here:

Photo to the right: G.D. Falksen, writer and arbiter
of all things Steampunk.

An absolutely amazing day of shooting, as anticipated, at Brooklyn Indie Market. Like last year we had rain, but no wind, but what rain! I mean it was like the monsoon season on a tropical isle. I was not able to leave until about 8:30 a full hour and half after the event let out. I'm willing to get wet, but not soaked and I had to make my way down to Fourth Avenue and Union St. to the N train, which is about six long blocks.

Liz from designglut.com helped with the shoot and was a fabulous right-hand, setting up shots, engaging the crowd, and helping me field-prep the nasty goopy "Fujiroid" remains for their return trip to Philadelphia. The humid weather worked to advantage with the negatives since they ended up drying very slowly at first and then once in the lower humidity of my cousin's place, they dessicated with very little chemical "noise," thus requiring little retouching. The drying process is, I'm starting to believe, the deactivation of the chemical reagent. Once dry, the surface is inert and can be washed under running water. You can't do that when wet; it will remove the image.

I'm getting good at getting the gear up and down the subway stairs too. I was pleasantly surprised, that a number of people offered to help me even though I really was not having much trouble--mostly just making a din as the cart hit the stair risers. It left me neither sore nor out of breath. Primarily it was the long day on Saturday, getting up at around 3AM after going to sleep at 11 and then the long day that tested my mettle. Rather than shlep all the gear back to Philly only to have to do it all again in a week, I left most of it in a safe spot in NYC after carefully pulling it all apart, cleaning everything (especially the power cords that were wet and caked with mud--Liz gets bonus points for getting them into plastic bags without so much as a sigh.) and taking a mental inventory of supplies. I really need a closet somewhere near downtown Brooklyn where I can leave a second tripod, set of lights and backdrop holder; a package about the size of a regular college dorm trunk. Any takers?

RA Friedman, Principle Photographer

Project for the Year:

2009-10-22T06:29:00.000-07:00

In addition to the MuralArts/Pew funded project it has become clear I need to focus and get a new major work or works out the door in the next year. The public shoots have been in high gear, but the art presentation part of the project has felt stalled to me.

I recently made a list that I may keep to thirty-three things. It is called "Everything you ever wanted to know about being an artist. (And we're gonna tell you, though you probably don't want to know) " It's serious, but it's also humorous too and I think the photography will be very engaging.

The plan, and these things do change, is to make the slides on regular 35mm glass-mounted slides and then have conversions made later to the giant 3.25" x 4" slides that go with Boris.

I will be looking for models, though this is a shoestring operation, so TFCD and TFP will be the business of the day.

Cheers!

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer

10 09 09 "Selling It"

2009-10-10T17:04:00.000-07:00

I have to admit, I was a bit put off by the idea of coming up with "snappy" verbiage as Larisa Fuchs of Gemini and Scorpio requested, but I gave it my best shot none-the-less. I'm learning more and more that marketing and spin DOES matter. I tend to like, accurate, low key, intellectual descriptions of things, but my guess is that if you are going to pitch what you do to someone planning a night out on the town, that's not gonna work.

Now I just need to figure out how I'm gonna shoot a twelve-hour party!

"RA Friedman's Tsirkus Fotografika is art, fantasy, time travel and alchemical wizardry. Tsirkus reinvents the modern portrait invoking the spirit of the itinerant tintype artists of old while mixing in retro-futurism à la Jules Verne and a bit of Dr. Caligari-esque mystery. It's instant art made on real silver film, an experience of collaborative creation, an encounter with the dark and perilous science of photography, and a chance to swim in the fiery waters of mad genius! All this is topped off by a sitting fee that belongs in the 19th century."

"A real bringing forth of fantasy vibes."
- Edward Pramuk, Artist

"Steampunk Photography!"
-Egophobia Magazine, Romania

"Friedman's frozen photos have the look of splashy oxidation — sometimes sexy and wasted, sometimes gloriously wretched, always stately."
-Philadelphia City Paper

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer

Back from The Island. 10/05/09

2009-10-05T04:22:00.000-07:00

Images here! Just click me!

I'm still waiting for the negatives to completely dry from the Jazz-Age Lawn Party on Governors Island yesterday. It was like a late summer day yesterday: sunny, not too hot, a very light breeze. In a word, perfect. What a contrast to last weekend.

This is just the first batch. There are additional images waiting for my attention, but it is 2pm and I've been klagging along since 7am.

I did the whole round trip via the Chinatown bus and then walked to and from the ferry that goes out o the island. The heavy (guessing around 75+ lbs) equipment package set up and broke down just fine and traveled over the bumpy city streets with ease. The K-mart folding "Magna Cart" is getting a little wonky, so probably a good idea to upgrade soon to something made for the abuse professional shooters dish out.

Getting on and off the bus was the biggest effort and I had to forgo the first one back to Philly since it was so full. I was even able to take back all the wet negatives by taping two on a sheet of heavy paper and "tubing" them. This is definitely getting down to a, if not a science, a methodology. And while w'ere at it, I think I've discovered the near-perfect vegan lunch for the road: coconut curry made with potatoes, yam, carrot and spinach. It keeps beautifully, is delicious, pleasantly fills you up for hours, and is extremely nutritious without making you feel heavy. It also digests really easy. A small container of nuts, a bottle of water, a Larabar or two, and I'm set.

The only bugbear was the light that seemed to change from minute to minute, making it hard to get a fix on what the exposure should be. Instant film is pretty unforgiving. It's either spot on or it looks off. The negatives, on the other hand are often great even when the positives look bad. I'm seriously considering investing in a spot-meter to take readings off of peoples' faces. One of my first two sitters needed four shots to get anything even close to correct. They were good sports and I didn't charge them. I suspect the auto stop-down on the Graflex wasn't working quite right at first and was sticking. You have to really push the plunger down to make sure it engages. I'm learning.

Lea assisted and was fantastic working with the sitters to get a great shot. She has a natural ability to get people to experiment in front of the lens, which is the essence of what the whole Tsirkus project is about.

"Business" was a little slow since all agreed, including Eileen who is one of the event organizers, that I was a bit far away from the action, that being the bandstand. Next year the plan is to be in the thick of things. People really DO need to see you and they often won't walk fifty feet to check something out. What's the old shtick? "Location, location, location..." I'm also going to look into a canopy to help moderate the sun, similar to what we did at Flag Fest. It's also good rain insurance.

I also met some cool photographers, Don Spiro, an ex-Philadelphia, and John Margolis, who is a documentary shooter working around NY. I had previously talked to him a few months ago concerning large-format work. There was even a Bush Pressman and a Speed Graphic (both old school 4x5 cameras) looming about taking photos of the hurly-burly. I hope those people post their shots. John was shooting with an old Rollei, one of my favorite cameras.

Let me just comment at this juncture that I believe it's important not to worry about anyone stepping on your territory. First of all, there is no "territory." My feeling is I actually hope someone is crazy enough to devote their time and energy to doing something similar to this project! I tell people whatever they want to know. I don't believe in trade secrets. Also, trying to control what other people do is a big waste of time. I'd rather be shooting and shmoozing.

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer

Dry(?) Run 09 27 09

2009-09-27T10:27:00.000-07:00

Photo: No, it's not garbage, it's a studio on the move! Tsirkus gear, appropriately waterproofed awaits its return to Philadelphia on the Chinatown bus.

The mobility of the vintage portrait studio has been on my mind quite a bit these last few weeks. Trying to move the equipment through the New York City Subway system on the last jaunt to Gowanus back in August drove home the idea that I have to think light, modular, and easy-to-handle. Oh! and add one more adjective: waterproof! You can't tell what weather may do suddenly.

I have abandoned using a single heavy trunk as in shoots past and now have a trusty (and water resistant) Craftsman tool bin to hold the camera, film holders and film. ($19.95 at Kmart). The tripods and stands perch atop that and are wrapped up and bungied as a unit. They then are bungied to the small, foldable hand truck I use. Additionally, there is room to bungie-on one or more small bags that hold the miscellaneous equipment and supplies, including lunch. Everything comes apart pretty easily to take on the bus or get down a flight of killer steps.

The Jazz Age Lawn Party shoot on Governors Island was supposed to have been today, but the weather had been touch and go. (It's now 3pm in Philly and the Sun is out!) I knew that any notification of a last-minute cancellation was likely going to happen after I was already in transit. When I got off the bus and was all raring to head for South Ferry, I checked in and yes, the event had been nixed. Even though I did a 180 and headed right back to Philly, it was a good opportunity to shake down the new arrangement for moving the gear and it worked pretty well. Everything stayed dry and I got a chance to catch up on some badly needed sleep since the bus invariably sends me to dreamland. Hopefully, the rescheduled Oct. 4 date will be dryer.

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer

Roamin' Holiday...What A Long Strange Trip It's Been...

2009-09-15T06:14:00.000-07:00

…But Marvelous! Photos here!

The Accordion Pool Party was a spectacular success, a Pittsburgh first and new territory for Tsirkus wherein the vintage studio traveled by bus, plane, truck and shoe leather over 500 miles for its maiden long-distance engagement. I do believe the crowd was truly ensorselled.

Never have I watched the weather so closely. This was an outside shoot with no canopy or overhead protection. There was just a twenty percent chance of rain, but it was very grey and overcast and I thought the sky was going to open up any minute to literally and figuratively wash the whole project out. Things remained rain-free and the diffuse lighting conditions were perfect for photography and didn’t dampen the ebullient spirits of all involved. I had fantastic help from Robin A. and the very talented multi-media artist Isabella Ferrari who was my right-hand man during this jaunt.

Susan Englert, a Pittsburgh artist, and member of the Tsirkus crew co-coordinated the event with Deb Knox. What’s next? I expect to see more from these cutting-edge creators, much more.

Special thanks to the Pittsburgh/Lawrenceville contingent: Susan, Charles, Robin, Carol, Deb, Larry R., and the whole APP event crew.

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer

Annual Report, Appended.

2009-09-02T16:16:00.000-07:00

The year going from August 31, 2008 to August 31, 2009 saw the project, known as Tsirkus Fotografika expanded greatly with shoots not only in Philadelphia, but also New York City. Tsirkus did seven public shoots for a total of 123 impromptu photographic collaborations. These images can be seen in he gallery section of Tsirkus.org.

While our tax year has yet to close, to date, between income generated by the public shoots and donations, the project is roughly at a break even. The total amount given to various charities and artistic projects that sponsored Tsirikus’ presence over the August to August time period is $366. We have been very successful in fulfilling our mission to both provide a “draw” and a creative activity for our sponsors’ events as well as helping them to raise badly needed cash. Sponsors include the Philadelphia Animal Welfare Society, City Kitties Cat Rescue, The Franklin Inn Club (Philadelphia), and the Jazz Age Lawn Party.

The satisfaction level of our sponsors has been extremely high with repeat shoots scheduled with many. The new fiscal year looks even busier and livelier. September has three public shoots booked including one in Pittsburgh and one on Governor’s Island in NYC. October has two shoots already scheduled with more likely.

In March, Tsirkus’ principal photographer, RA Friedman was awarded a $20,000 project grant from the City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Program as part of its Journeys South initiative. Friedman’s work in developing Tsirkus as well as much help from Tsirkus associates was largely responsible for the success of the proposal that was submitted. Working with the residents of South Philadelphia, the endeavor will hopefully dovetail with the Tsirkus project and provide Friedman with additional creative time.

In February, Tsirkus partnered with Frank Siciliano of Steamed Punk to fabricate the first projector for a planned magic lantern show. Modifications are complete including a 45 cubic foot-per-minute cooling fan and a one kilowatt light source attached to a modified circa 1920 Keystone “Model C” projector that has been named “Baby Boris.” Baby Boris can be seen on the Tsirkus home page. A second, identical projector body was recently purchased on e-Bay and once modified will complete the pair needed to conduct a show of oversize projected images.

Tsirkus also got a brand new look with a website designed by Jenna Hannum who did the project pro-bono. The beautiful site, most importantly, has taken Tsirkus from an ad-hoc, rag-tag operation to one that has a professional presence. Traffic has been steady and is conservatively 100 visitors a week with many spending a few minutes looking around. Additionally, Susan Englert, an artist from Pittsburgh donated a large chunk of time and expertise to create lively informational cards that we now hand out at events, as a way of further networking.

Draw downs to the account were for the second projector, approximately $81 and for equipment and liability insurance for six months, approximately $90.00. All other expenses such as film, travel, assistant honorariums, and incidentals have come from the funds generated by the shoots themselves where each itinerant portrait sells for $10.00. Approximately $145 still remains in the account which will go for yearly liability insurance due in Oct.

Funding exclusive of donations: $801

Professional Fees: $145

Film: $110

Transportation $ 84

Other, est. $ 500

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer

Tsirkus Fotografika

“Lit from Within”

Upcoming Shoots!

2009-08-25T04:04:00.000-07:00

September and October look quite busy!

Diabolique Ball, Philadelphia, TBA
Sept 12, Accordion Pool Party, Lawrenceville (Pittsburgh), PA
Sept 25, Shoot for P.O.S.T. at ICA, Philadelphia-Alex is assisting.
Sept 27, Jazz-Age Lawn Party, Governor's Island NYC
Oct 2, Gravedigger's Ball, Laurel Hill Cemetary Conservancy-Amber, tentative, to assist.
Oct 24, Grand Chrononauts Tea, Brooklyn Indie Market--Liza is assisting.
Oct 31, P.A.W.S. Mutt Strut, Philadelphia-Amber, tentative, to assist.

Meet Me Tonight In Dreamland

2009-08-24T18:17:00.001-07:00

The Skinny:

Fantastic images, great people and check out the photos here: Tsirkus.or g

A Few More Details for the Curious:

This was Tsirkus’ second NYC shoot and the first we did in the Big Apple where we sold the photos. Additionally, it was the first shoot where everything for the vintage studio traveled outside of Philly without benefit of private transportation (except for one late-night taxi ride home).

“Charmed” feels like the correct phrase to describe the shoot. Everything went without a hitch from aesthetics to the technical with each photo looking like a little jewel ; the level of photographic results getting better and better as the night progressed. Lea Bender, who assisted and styled, is an accomplished documentary-type writer, dramatic and physical performance artist, and producer. She’s a natural at creating figural arrangements for the camera and has an uncanny ability to put the sitters and ease and draw out their most interesting character and expression.

The 1920’s enthusiasts who had turned out to dance to the syncopated rhythms of Michael Arenella’s Dreamland Orchestra thought the shots were the veritable bees’ knees. Lea and I were busy until about one-thirty in the morning when we finally called it quits. All in all, an incredible collaboration took place between subjects, stylist and photographer.

Technical:

Camera: Graflex Super D 3.25” x 4.25” Single lens reflex, mahogany body, Moroccan leather covering, best focused without wearing glasses.
Lens: Ektar 152mm
Film: Fuji FP3000b
Lights: Smith Victor floods with regular 200 watt household bulbs. The lamps were positioned to the left of the camera so as to not shine through a doorway onto the dance floor.

The negatives were saved by taping them to heavy card stock and rolling them into tubes so the sticky, wet surface did not touch anything and received airflow. This worked great. The “goops” (throw-away paper negatives) as they are sometimes called had a hard time drying in the ultra-humid weather. This provided a convenient excuse to visit friends and stay until Monday since I wanted to be sure they were fully dry before stacking them flat and taking them back to the studio. The negatives have to fully set before they can be in contact with anything, otherwise the very caustic developing agent will cause the image to self-destruct. Also any dampness on the negatives will get on the scanner glass and that slows things down a lot. Once the negs. are dry, they are fairly harmless and can even be washed to remove surface crystals and dirt.

Logistics:

Getting everything for a full shoot into one college-size footlocker was a real trick. My impulse on a shoot like this would normally be to have a second camera, usually the Crown Graphic, as a back-up. There was nowhere enough room. I opted for a 3.25 x 4.25 Graflex Supe D dating from 1948 and expertly modified by Bertram Saunders (now retired, unfortunately) to take a 4x5 inch holders. The camera had needed some focus tweaking which I recently did and it was good to go. The 152mm Ektar lens is not as good as the 190 Optar on the full-sized 4x5 Super D, that I recently used at The City Kitties fundraiser, but the camera is small and light by comparison.

The trunk traveled easily from home base near Naval Square, Philadelphia to the Chinatown bus at 11th and Arch and arrived in A1 shape at Grand and Allen streets in Manhattan. One thing I’m rapidly learning is “Be prepared for anything.” I waterproofed the camera bag since thunderstorms were predicted, but I never counted on the inner city travel being so physically arduous. The subway was easily over 100 degrees F with near 100% humidity and very hard to move through with a big heavy trunk on a handcart. Being one who usually opts for the stairs, I had no conception as to how inaccessible the whole system is. There are only elevators at certain stations; many stations have long climbs to street level and I saw many people with baby strollers struggling with similar problems to mine. I repeatedly had to lift a seventy -five pound “brick” and then carry it up to the light and air above. Those early morning exercises I guess paid off.

I had plenty of time before the 9pm shoot, but I decided to not go to where I was staying which was near Lincoln Center in Manhattan. Instead I opted to directly travel out to Brooklyn and then come back to eat, shower and dress for the 1920’s. This was fortunate. The interchange at 42nd St. from the R train to the Broadway local would have been pure hell with all that gear—a long walk through the station up and down multiple stairways. It’s no surprise to me that I can’t remember seeing anyone wheelchair bound on a subway train.

To get the studio-in-a-trunk out to Gowanus in Brooklyn, I had to navigate my way down a very crowded Canal street to the “R” train station and then out to Union and 4th Avenue via walking through two block parties to get to the Green Warehouse, a shul that has no air-conditioning. Because it was shabes (forgive my use of Yidish here), they could not open the big pull-down door until after sunset.

When we quit at 1:30, we packed up quickly and Lea hailed a Gipsy cab, and negotiated with them to take me back to 66th and Central Park West, and then to travel on Harlem, where Lea lives, for just $40.

Getting back on Monday, the 24th, was a bit of a trick. Luckily the 66th Street station on the Broadway line has an elevator. The problem was finding a car that was not so packed at 9:30 on a Monday so I could physically get on board. It took three trains before I miraculously squeezed on, probably more out of desperation to get out of the heat than anything else. Even though the Chinatown bus is far to the east of Seventh Avenue, I chose to not try for a cross-town connection since I already knew what I was in for. I opted to get off near Houston Street and walk through SoHo. My stop had no elevator, so I once again carried everything up and then discovered that many of the curbs in SoHo have no cuts for wheelchairs, but I managed. I made the 10:30 bus and was more than ready to return to Philly, friends, studio and un-crowded streets. Will I be rethinking logistics for future NYC shoots? You bet!

Special thanks to Lea, Eileen Regan, Michael Arenella, and my cousin Annie and her husband Herb.

RA Friedman, Principal Photographer

07 12 09 Shoot aboard the Gazela

2009-07-22T03:41:00.000-07:00

The Gazela is an 1884 Barkentine that is maintained by a special conservancy in Philadelphia. This shoot was for the Franklin Inn Club's annual party.

It was a fantastic afternoon of shooting with beautiful light from the late afternoon into evening. The shoot was done with a Crown Graphic field camera. The Franklin Inn people were quite enthusiastic and Alex was a natural at directing them---bravo!

Gazela photos: Click here!
Updated edits on some of these images will be up soon, so check back!

-RA Friedman, Principle Photographer

Flag Fest Shoot!

2009-06-16T03:16:00.000-07:00

OK. The most important thing: Images are here! (Click on the text!)

We were dodging raindrops on Saturday but people did turn out and Sunday turned into a really beautiful day.

We got to test out our new backdrop taken during the 1876 Centennial and courtesy of The Library Company of Philadelphia. Also, for the first time we used ballasts to hold down the backdrop supports. They were made by filling Zip Loc bags with water! One of the biggest hazards of shooting outside is your backdrop can become a big sail and take itself out along with anything in its path. Yes, go for the Boy Scout Motto: Be Prepared!

Special thanks to Amber and Trinette who both helped with the shoot, my friend Tom Durham for printing the backdrop and Elaine at Frugal Frames for helping me get the backdrop seamed together. I couldn't have done it without you.

A number of shoots are coming up in Philly in case you missed us. Stay tuned!

Post by RA Friedman, Principle Photographer

City Kitties Fundraiser Shoot 5/29/09

2009-05-31T05:26:00.000-07:00

Images, they are here, just click!

This was one fo those memorable shoots where there was a great crowd, people were really into it and everyone was really on point.

Special thanks to Nicole J. (at above/ left) for helping out.

Ot Azoy! Zut Alors! It's Alive!

2009-05-25T07:26:00.001-07:00

Baby Boris is now fully functional and we gave him the first test run shake down. The radiant energy of the hugely powerful light source quickly heated up the test slide made on thin polyester film stock taped to a piece of window glass and started to buckle it! This was something I had not considered.

We then tried sandwiching an Estar based (Kodak trade name for the heavy polyester base they use for their sheet film) transparency between two pieces of glass with no mask. The combination of the thicker film along with the heavy glass on both sides allowed the slide to easily stay in the projector two minutes with no apparent damage and it was cool enough to handle as well. Boris stayed nice and cool at the slide stage; no problems there, although he does heat up the room.

So, the answer is the slides will need to be masked in-camera and then just trimmed into the mount which is a simple sandwich of two pieces of window glass cut to size and carefully taped on the edge. This is actually a more elegant solution and avoids a lot of gunky tape. Additionally, I may need to cycle between two projectors if I want to keep an image up a long length of time. The plot certainly thickens!

The photo is by Frank Siciliano of Steamed Punk and FPS Design. I was there while Frank was making this image. The working method was nothing less than impressive and the resulting image speaks for itself---amazing.

First Glass Test Slide

2009-05-22T17:15:00.001-07:00

Slide #1, a true silver image on thin, archival polyester film stock, mounted with archival tape in glass. Good probably for 100+ years and Sunday 05/24 we'll plunk this into Baby Boris and see how it flies. Thanks to Elaine at Frugal Frames for the glass!

Selected Images

2009-05-13T16:30:00.001-07:00

A volunteer designer is currently working on a new site that will include galleries for the lare number of images Tsirkus has shot over the last three years. For now, these are some fun images from the Brookly Indie Market "Grand Chrono'nauts Tea" taken last October. These were resurrected from the instant negatives. The positives were spirited away by the time travelers.

Baby Boris Phase II

2009-05-11T16:20:00.001-07:00

Specifications:

Craftsman: Fank Siciliano of Steamed Pun k
Concept and Kibitzing: RA Friedman
Original unit: Keystone 3.25 x 4" lantern slide projector, circa 1920, 400 watts.
Lamp: Quartz in mogul base
Wattage: 1KW or 19,000 Lumens
Cooling: Two fans, input and output. Input fan moves forty-five cubic feet of air per minute.
Switch turns lamp on and off while fan remains running during cool-down.
Brass pipes contain power wiring for fans to prevent heat damage/ignition.
Condenser and slide stage remain cool enough to handle comfortably even after unit is running ten minutes.
Intended use: Low tech multimedia show slated for Sept/Oct 2010.

Photos by Frank Siciliano, FPS Design.

Some Experiments

2009-05-08T03:58:00.000-07:00

I've been experimenting by stretching my digital files to about 240 inches (20 feet) high and then taking 8 x 10 sections and printing them.

I tried this with various shots including a shot made with my Rolleiflex and a test file from a Nikon D200. All held up remarkably well and probably all would be good enough to be projected. The prints look like nothing up close, but step back about fifteen feet and they read.

The Nikon shot lost the most detail, which makes sense. Remarkably, a shot done on 3000 speed Fuji and shot with a 152mm Ektar on a Graflex Super D and then scanned (paper negative) at 800% can resolve the loops of woven sock taken from about ten feet away--the white area of Mr. Monkey.

So, I think at this point, what I have to do is to some side by side controlled and objective testing and go through the whole process from capture to lantern slide, to projection and really see wherein lie the differences.

Self Assigment

2009-05-05T16:38:00.000-07:00

This is the beginnings of a self-assignment I'm working on: Spaces that normally don't get looked into or photographed. Philly has a lot of these--the spaces between close-set buildings. The problem is finding the proper convergence of physical arrangement, light, and of course, one's own state of mind.

Camera: Nikon F100 on Fuji Superia 400 Film

RA Friedman, principal photographer, Tsirkus

2009-05-04T04:31:00.000-07:00

No, it's not sock monkey love, but rather a test shot with a Graflex Super-D 4x5 that dates from about 1948. The camera was modified with a Graflok back by Fred Lustig about a year ago, but never worked correctly since the back plate was warped. A very fine mechanic named Bert Saunders recently did an expert repair and it now works beautifully.

The web jpeg doesn't do the level of detail justice. The lens was stopped down to f11 and you can see the individual loops in Mr. Monkey's body. The "noise" odd image quality is due to the scan being from the paper negative, not the positive.

Lens is 190mm Optar, which is a Tessar, 4 element design. Film is 3000 speed Fuji 3.25 x 4.25 pack film. I hope to shoot some full 4x5 sheets in this amazing piece of equipment. This is the file equivalent of shooting with a 60 megapixel camera! Currently, the upper limit for digitals is about 39mp. Oh, and those cameras are about $40K.

05/02/09 PAWS Publicity/Fundraiser Shoot at The Ethical Society, Rittenhouse Sq.

2009-05-03T06:53:00.000-07:00

Well, people not exactly beating down the doors for portraits, but a very nice crowd--lots of dogs, cats, rats, and ferrets too! It's was a great meet and greet. Amber assisted with great skill and panache and for the first time I had fantastic promo. materials to hand out, courtesy of Susan "Miracle Whip" Englert, an absolutely astounding artist working out of Pittsburgh.

These are "quick and dirty" edits which I may return to. They were made by working off of the normally thrown-away Fuji FP3000 instant film paper negative. The sitters walked away with the orginal positives.

Set-up was as follows: Crown Graphic, Xenar 135mm, 400 watt "hot" lighting. Enjoy! RA Friedman, principle photographer, Tsirkus Fotografika

Info. Cards. Click on the images!

2009-05-01T03:44:00.000-07:00

Temporary Digs:

2009-04-29T16:48:00.001-07:00

We're parked on Blogger for the moment in anticipation of a going to a regular website once some more funds and perhaps a volunteer designer/webmaster steps forward. No nudes for the moment, but I'm hoping to be able to put back the images that talk about the human form fairly soon.

Best,

Tsirkus

Images from Recent Public Shoots

2009-04-29T15:56:00.000-07:00

Upcoming Shoots:

2009-04-29T15:42:00.000-07:00

May 2, Saturday, 1-4 PM, to benefit P.A.W.S. Ethical Society, Rittenhouse Square.

May 29, Friday, City Kitties, Stay Tuned!