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Pine flatwoods understory of Saw Palmetto (Serenoa repens), Johnathan Dickinson State Park
Pentax K-1
HD Pentax-D FA 70-210mm F4 ED SDM WR
Iridient Developer
Event: Trentham Gardens Classic & Retro Show
Location: Trentham, Staffordshire
Camera: Mamiya RB67 Pro-S
Lens(s): Mamiya Sekor-C 90mm f/3.8
Film: Harman Phoenix 200
Shot ISO: 200
Light Meter: Weston Master II
Lighting: Overcast & Heavy Rain
Mounting: Hand Held
Firing: Shutter Button
Developer: Bellini C-41 Kit
Scanner: Epson V800
Post: Adobe Lightroom & Photoshop (dust removal)
Canadian Geese at Magnolia Dairy in Bothell, Washington.
Camera: KMZ FT-2
Lens: Industar-50 50mm f/3.5
Film: Adox HR-50
Developer: Beerenol (Rainier Beer)
1970's Yashica Electro 35 GSN with Yashinon 1.7/45mm on Fomapan 400 in PC-Glycol (5g/L carbonate, 2g/L KBr) 1+50 for 7 mins 45 seconds @ 20C.
Where I do film development here in Ireland... the kitchen table, in an 11x14" processing tray to contain the chemistry. Pictured:
- 3x Dollar store measuring cups that have served me for 8+ years. These are the best!
- 2x Nikor dual reel tanks (1x 135, 1x 120)
- Small Kilner jars containing PC-Glycol and anhydrous sodium carbonate
- Stainless 1L and 500ml measurers I use for mixing
- Two funnels
- Adox FX-39 developer which I haven't tried yet
- Adox Adoflo
- Diafine box
- The very edge of my AP plastic development tank
- Various thermometers, some scissors, and miscellaneous film leaders
Taken during the summer, in Mortehoe, near Woolacombe, Devon, on a spur of the moment camping trip.
I'm waiting on 3 xpro films to come back from the developers.... can you tell?!
As promised since our update to the Venus, Isis and Freya bodies are now complete and our developer kits have been updated we will now reopen our applications to apply to be a Belleza Mesh Creator....
Details on our blog: BELLEZA MESH CREATOR APPLICATION & AGREEMENT – NOW OPEN!
A backdoor is a means to access a computer system or encrypted data that bypasses the system's customary security mechanisms.
A developer may create a backdoor so that an application or operating system can be accessed for troubleshooting or other purposes. However, attackers often use backdoors that they detect or install themselves as part of an exploit. In some cases, a worm or virus is designed to take advantage of a backdoor created by an earlier attack.
Whether installed as an administrative tool, a means of attack or as a mechanism allowing the government to access encrypted data, a backdoor is a security risk because there are always threat actors looking for any vulnerability to exploit.
There have been a number of high-profile backdoor attacks that have occurred over the last few decades. One of the most noteworthy was Back Orifice, created in 1999 by a hacker group that called themselves Cult of the Dead Cow. Back Orifice enabled remote control of Windows computers thanks to operating system vulnerabilities.
There's no reason why a postcard should focus on a garage at all, so it's no surprise that really only the pole sign of this garage shows in this image, but it would have been nice if somehow a bit more had been visible!
Founded in 1919, so now well over a hundred year sold, the Tisbury garage is under threat from developers now and looks likely to be demolished to make way for new flats. In more recent times it has been UK branded and more recently still Pace, as seen below. The developer cites that the building is out of character with the area, despite the garage having stood here since 1919. Of course a block of flats would be entirely in keeping with this neighbourhood!
www.salisburyjournal.co.uk/news/23375703.tisbury-plans-de...
Below it can be seen as Pace in 2014 thanks to Richard, 2017 and 2019 from my collection, and 2024 thanks to Spottedlaurel.
Event: Tatton Park Classic Car Show
Location: Tatton Park, Knutsford, Cheshire
Camera: Canon EOS 5
Lens(s): Canon EF 50mm f/1.4 & Canon EF 28mm f/1.8
Film: Kodak Vision3 50D
Shot ISO: 50
Light Meter: Camera
Exposure: f/2.8
Lighting: Mostly Sunny
Mounting: Hand-held
Firing: Shutter Button
Developer: Bellini C-41 Kit
Scanner: Epson V800
Post: Adobe Lightroom & Photoshop (dust removal)
Leica M2
Leica Summilux 35mm f/1.4 II
Adox CHS 100 Typ II
Adox Silvermax Developer (1+19)
8 min 30 sec 20°C
Scan from negative film
UN 54 film developed in PMK developer. This developer is a bit different as it really enhances the greyscale
1/6
image from test roll shot with a newly acquired Beier Beirex 6x9 folder. Many film roller scratches, significant light leaks. Coaxed into this presentation in LightRoom.
Minolta Dynax 505si Super
Mir 1B, 37mm/f2.8
Foma Retropan 320, 8,5 min. in stock Ilford ID11
Scanned on Epson Perfection V550 Photo, with SilverFast SE 8.8.0r19
Whitehall is a 75-room, 100,000 square foot Gilded Age mansion open to the public in Palm Beach, Florida in the United States. Completed in 1902, it is a major example of neoclassical Beaux Arts architecture designed by Carrère and Hastings for Henry Flagler, a leading captain of industry in the late 19th century, and a leading developer of Florida as a tourist destination. The building is listed as a National Historic Landmark. It now houses the Henry Morrison Flagler Museum, named after its builder.
The site of the home was purchased for $50,000 in 1893 (as of 2010 that would be $1,197,562.39) by Flagler. The site was later surveyed for construction in July 1900 and the home was completed in time for Flagler and his wife to move in on February 6, 1902. The architects were John Carrère and Thomas Hastings, who had earlier designed the Ponce de Leon Hotel and several other buildings in St. Augustine for Flagler. Whitehall was to be a winter residence, and Henry gave it to Mary Lily as a wedding present. They would travel to Palm Beach each year in one of their own private railcars, one of which was No. 91.
In 1959, the site was saved from demolition by one of Henry Flagler's granddaughters Jean Flagler Matthews. She established the Henry Morrison Flagler Museum non-profit corporation, which purchased the building in 1959, opening it as a museum in 1960. The upper ten stories of the hotel addition were demolished in 1963 in preparing the museum for the public.
Today, Whitehall is a National Historic Landmark and is open to the public as the Henry Morrison Flagler Museum, featuring guided tours, exhibits, and special programs. The museum offers several programs, many of which are seasonal, lasting only from October to January. In addition to an annual chamber music series, the Flagler hosts the Whitehall lecture series, which brings “experts and best-selling authors to discuss Gilded Age topics, events, and local history.” Past lecture series include historical talks about the dawn of the Progressive Era, World War I, Gilded Age presidents, engineering feats, and Metaphysical America: Spirituality and Health Movements During the Gilded Age. The Flagler also holds a special exhibition each year, often showcasing Gilded Age paintings, sculptures, glamour photography, or material culture, such as board games, jewelry, cartoons, Tiffany & Co. silver pieces (including ones displayed at the 1893 Chicago World's Columbian Exposition), and women's fashion. It also hosts a variety of local galas and balls throughout the year. The Museum is located at Cocoanut Row and Whitehall Way in Palm Beach.
Flagler died of injuries sustained in falling down a flight of marble stairs at Whitehall in 1913, at the age of 83. Mary Lily died four years later, and the home was devised to her niece Louise Clisby Wise Lewis, who sold the property to investors. They constructed a 300-room, ten-story addition to the west side of the building, obliterating Mr. Flagler's offices and the housekeeper's apartment, and altering the original kitchen and pantry area. Carrere and Hastings were the architects of the 1925 reconstruction. In 1939 it was described as a $4,000,000 building and Palm Beach's second-largest hotel.
When it was completed in 1902, Whitehall was hailed by the New York Herald as "more wonderful than any palace in Europe, grander and more magnificent than any other private dwelling in the world." It was designed in the Beaux Arts style, meant to rival the extravagant mansions in Newport, Rhode Island.
Distinct from these northern homes, Whitehall had no outbuildings or subsidiary structures. Nor had it elaborately planned or cultivated gardens. Plants, flowers, trees and shrubs were allowed to grow unaided.
The mansion is built around a large open-air central courtyard and is modeled after palaces in Spain and Italy. Three stories tall with several wings, the mansion has fifty-five fully restored rooms furnished with period pieces. These rooms are large with marble floors, walls and columns, murals on the ceilings, and heavy gilding.
Officially opened February 4, 2005, the $4.5-million Flagler Kenan Pavilion is the first addition to the property since 1925. The 8,100-square-foot (750 m2) pavilion is named after the mogul and William R. Kenan Jr., Flagler's engineer, friend and brother-in-law. It was designed in the Beaux-Arts manner by Jeffery W. Smith of Palm Beach-based Smith Architectural Group, Inc. and took almost four years to build. The featured display in this pavilion is Railcar No. 91, Flagler's private railcar built in Delaware in 1886. According to the museum, the car was restored using “documentation from the National Museum of American History, the Smithsonian, the Delaware State Archives, and the Hagley Museum and Library in Delaware.” It also houses the seasonal Pavilion Café and tea service.
Credit for the data above is given to the following websites:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whitehall_(Henry_M._Flagler_House)
© All Rights Reserved - you may not use this image in any form without my prior permission.
What better way to kill time than wander around with a fresh roll of TMax 400 loaded.
Nikon F4 - AF Nikkor 35mm 1:2D - Kodak TMax 400 (400-2TMY)
Kodak TMax Developer (1+4) 6:45 @ 20C
Halona Blowhole, southeastern Oahu, Hawai'i.
Pentax K-1
Pentax "K series" 55/1.8
Polarizer
Iridient Developer
Taken on Kodak, TMAXX 100 in a Nikon F3, developer was Rodinal 1:25
Prints available at zacharymassengill.smugmug.com
my developer just called to tell me he'd ruined two rolls of mamiya film. what can I say. I ruin film all the time.
now to figure out, what was on those rolls.
my photography is playing anyway.
I took this from the Gatwick Express train on our way back home. It was interesting to learn about the redevelopment of Battersea. See below for a description of the project.
From New York Magazine
Written by: Justin Davidson
nymag.com/intelligencer/2019/10/review-of-the-redeveloped...
“If you were going to anoint a single great temple to the deity of fossil fuel, you might choose the Battersea Power Station, just across the Thames from some of the costliest real estate in London. From the 1930s through the ’70s, it sucked up coal and pumped out electricity. Now it’s burning through £9 billion ($11.5 billion) in the hope of generating much, much more, and that process of transformation is an awesome, troubling thing to behold. Bristling with cranes, it hulks over the river like some rough beast, slouching toward Westminster. Londoners know it from a distance — the quartet of chimneys jabbing at clouds, its mountainous brick bulk — but few have been inside. That will soon change, along with everything else about it.
I recently toured the construction site with Sebastien Ricard, an architect at the firm Wilkinson Eyre who is in charge of disemboweling, shoring up, and rebuilding the structure for use as a zone of white-collar lifestyle and work. Even when I stand inside the shell, the great fluted columns of the turbine hall rising toward a distant ceiling, the scale of the place is hard to fathom. One of the two boiler houses is filled with an impenetrable thicket of scaffolding. In the other, fresh armatures of concrete and steel have grown up beneath a new roof. Not long ago, Battersea Power Station was a ruin, left exposed by a developer who went bankrupt before he made good on a plan for an open-air amusement park. For years, only the rain and the odd nocturnal creature penetrated the decaying interiors.
Now, money is flowing again, thanks to a consortium of the Malaysian development group Setia, Sime Darby Property, and Employees Provident Fund. Ricard points out a vast slab of raw concrete that one day will host cocktail parties, with expansive views onto the Thames. Beyond, an undergrowth of apartment blocks is already growing around the outer walls, supplemented by an esplanade, a riverboat stop, and a couple of still-quiet cafés. Leisure is on the move.
There’s something simultaneously exciting, a little sad, and bracingly preposterous about the rehabilitation: exciting because the project brings fresh life to a central city tract that has been forlorn for a couple of generations; sad because that life consists of a narrow and familiar set of ways to make and spend money. Preposterous because the task of converting a huge machine for the postindustrial era means treating it as a precious relic. To satisfy Historic England, the body that oversees “listed” buildings, the developers had to demolish and rebuild four of those graceful but useless smokestacks, match thousands of damaged tiles, and order a million hand-made bricks from the same workshops that furnished the originals. It’s a multibillion-dollar fixer-upper.
The largest brick building in Europe, it inspired awe in the kingdom of energy. The architect was Giles Gilbert Scott, who brought a classicizing finesse to tough utilitarian structures like the Bankside Power Station that later became Tate Modern, and the U.K.’s famous red telephone booth. (The booth has an exquisite architectural pedigree: It’s based on the 19th-century architect Sir John Soane’s mausoleum, which in turn got its characteristic shallow dome from the breakfast room in Soane’s own house.) As if to guard against inevitable obsolescence, Scott encrusted the Battersea colossus with Art Deco flourishes, including the opulent control room with coffered ceilings. (In the next incarnation, that will become an event space.)
The power station burned a million tons of coal a year, hewn from the ground under Northumberland and Wales, hauled by train or loaded on barges, and transferred from a jetty on the Thames. When the facility was first proposed, Londoners objected to the idea of spitting so much coal smoke into the air of their city center. Not to worry, the journal Nature chirped in 1932: Recent technological advances had “proved conclusively that the emission of sulphur fumes can be reduced to a negligible quantity.” That was partly true: An innovative process scrubbed the gases of their most noxious ingredients by “washing” them with water — which was then dumped into the Thames. Keeping the lights on amounted to a choice between visibly poisoning the air and invisibly poisoning the river. Eventually, though, coal did both. In 1952, a thick cloud laden with toxins settled over London, and by the time it dissipated five days later, it had killed 12,000 people. Battersea’s B section was still under construction.
It was the album cover of Pink Floyd’s 1977 album Animals that gave the almost-retired plant a global profile and a reputation for mayhem that continued through rock concerts, festivals, and raves. (Algie, the inflatable pink pig tethered to one of the chimneys for the photo shoot, broke free and soared into the Heathrow Airport flight path; police helicopters chased it for miles until it alighted in a field in Kent.) The powerhouse glowered over the banks of the Thames, but it loomed even more impressively in the lives of commuters, who passed its great brick cliffs on the train just before pulling into Victoria Station. “It looked like a gate, or a castle,” says the aptly named Peter Watts in his book Up in Smoke: the Failed Dreams of Battersea Power Station. “When it came into view, that was the moment you were entering the city, which was always so much more exciting than whatever town in Surrey you were coming from. It looked primal and permanent. I fantasize that at the end of days, everything else will be gone and the power station will remain.”
And yet the apparently eternal hulk was supremely fragile. In 2004, it cropped up on the World Monuments Fund’s endangered list. Dozens of schemes, each more grandly harebrained than the last, were rolled out, threatening various combinations of rescue and destruction. The New York–based architect Rafael Viñoly contributed several idas: A decade ago, a group of Irish developers hired him to design a new ostensibly “clean” power plant tucked below ground and topped with a new 1,000-foot chimney, next to an office park that would have been covered by a plastic “eco-dome.” That dream went the way of so many others in the 2008 financial crisis. Later, the Chelsea Football Club recruited Viñoly to design a soccer stadium there, though what he really wanted was a concert hall. The architect Terry Farrell suggested stripping the carcass down to four chimneys and two walls and enshrining it in parkland as an immense, evocative ruin. That proposal addressed the central conundrum of its redevelopment. Preserving the structure’s mysterious isolation, its sheer brooding strangeness, meant leaving the land around it vacant or, at most, scattering it with low-rise buildings the way a medieval village huddles around its cathedral. But builders don’t make money by not building, and the quantities of cash needed to preserve the thing, never mind reinvigorate the area, were inconceivably enormous. By 2014, the station was back on the WMF’s watch list again.
When Setia and its partners landed the site, Viñoly returned, this time with a plan that wrapped the brick monolith in glass apartment complexes (one designed by Frank Gehry, another by Norman Foster), close-cropped lawns, and fountains with the usual dancing jets of water. A year and a half from now, a new Northern Line Underground stop will stitch a long-inaccessible area back into Central London.
The power station itself will contain an immense indoor shopping center and rentable party spaces, topped by crow’s-nest penthouses. Apple has scooped up most of the offices that will crown the structure. Wilkinson Eyre’s design reclaims the site’s history and smooths it over at the same time, inserting an elegantly generic lattice of black steel, glass walls, and airy voids. Where once generators roared, now milk will be foamed, code written, and brand identities polished.
One detail captures the ethos of spectacular silliness that pervades almost every huge development project these days: a sightseeing elevator that glides up through one of the pristine chimneys and pops out the top, giving passengers a quick 360-degree vista, before dropping back inside. Let’s hope that a metamorphosis on this imperial scale yields something more solid and meaningful than a soap bubble with a view. Still, if this all seems more like a default option than a thrilling destiny, consider the imaginative alternatives that failed because of the site’s sheer scale and the possible squandered fortunes. The current future isn’t ideal, but it’s probably the least bad solution — far better than just letting the whole thing collapse into a disconsolate pile of rubble.”
Source: New York Magazine
For Processing BW Film - Not For Drinking!
The FPP’s new Caffenol Developer for Black and White Processing at home! CUP O’ JOE is a powder solution in a handy pouch that when mixed with water produces 1 Liter of BW Home Developing solution that will process up to 4 rolls of 35mm, 120 or 8 4x5 sheets of BW film.
filmphotographystore.com/products/darkroom-supplies-caffe...
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FPP D96 BW Developer (Powder to make 1 Gallon)
filmphotographystore.com/collections/darkroom-supplies/pr...
The Film Photography Project brings you FPP D96 BW negative developer powder in handy packages that makes 1 Gallon of developer when mixed with water.
Long considered the go-to BW developer for the motion picture industry, D96 is a highly adaptable lower contrast film developer that enables you to increase the contrast by increasing your developing time or agitation. We’ve tested this developer with cinema films like FPP X2 (Eastman Double-X), FPP Blue Sensitive BW, ORWO Cinema Film and FPP LOW ISO BW and standard BW photography films like Kodak Tri-X, T-Max, Ilford FP4 and HP5 films to stunning results.
Powder Makes 1 Gallon of Developer
Long Shelf Life
Develop up to 50+ rolls
Average development time 7-8.5 minutes
This developer has a very long life, when you mix the gallon, you can store it on a one gallon jug OR store it in 4 one quart bottles. If you store in 4 separate 1 quart bottles, as you use it and the contrast begins to lower, start a second fresh bottle, and save the first one for extremely contrasty lighting or films. We recommend using it as a stock developer, use it without diluting and pour it back into your quart container for re-use.
What about diluting and using as “one-shot”?
You can also dilute it 1:1, but make sure you use fresh, unused stock for this and do not reuse this combination, it is one-shot. This developer will begin to lose contrast with use rather than completely exhaust.
The package makes 1 gallon of developer, which is about a 50% savings over buying it by the litre and if you store it in 4 one quart bottles it’s like getting 3 developers in 1, stock for re-use, stock for dilution for one-shot and a lower contrast bottle of used stock for hard lighting and high contrast films!
We are testing with many films but have found a lot to fall within 7 to 8.5 minutes. Massive Developing chart has a D96 developer option as well. Many report getting at least 50+ rolls from this quantity.
Here are starting times for some of our favorite films.
FILM ISO TEMP TIME
100Tmax 100 68F 7 minutes & 30 seconds
400Tmax 400 68F 8 minutes
TMZ3200 3200 68F 12.5 minutes
FPP Low ISO BW 6 68F 7 minutes
FPP SONIC BW 25 68F 8 minutes
Ferrania P30 80 68F 9 minutes
X2 (Double-X) 200 68F 7 minutes & 30 seconds
400 TX 400 68F 8 minutes
Orwo UN54 100 68F 5 minutes & 30 seconds
Orca B/W Lomo 100 68F 6 minutes
FP4 125 68F 8 minutes
HP5 400 68F 9 minutes
FPP Blue Sensitive 6 68F 7 minutes & 30 seconds
Polypan F 50 68F 9 minutes