My Brand-Spankin'-New Start 66

 I have always wanted to shoot in medium format.  Every-so-often I browse Allegro to check the prices of a Mamiya RZ67.

While in Bazar na Kole, a massive bazaar/flea market in Wola, I stumbled upon a man selling an old Polish twin-lens reflex Start 66.  I snapped it up for 100zl (on Allegro, it sells for 300zl), and giddily took it home.  I cleaned it; learned how to load and unload 120 film; and figured out how to work this old mechanical beast.

The Start 66 is a twin-lens reflex camera built between 1967 and 1970 that shoots 6x6 frames on 120 format film.  It only comes with a waist-level view finder, and Emitar 75 mm lens with a leaf shutter, and a pretty crummy view finder.  The optics seem more suited to black-and-white film rather than color (see images below).  I've only shot one roll of film: a test roll of Provia 100, but I'm pretty happy with the results (for 100zl camera, I can't complain).

Poniatowski Bridge at sunset from Temat Rzeka.

Sandomierz from the Brama Opatowska. 

Sandomierz Castle.

Stepping from a world (digital photography) that is so automated (auto-focus, auto-advance, and most importantly, auto-exposure) to a world that is manual at even the most basic functions.  The Start 66 even needs to be cocked before you can fire the shutter.
Taking a picture isn't as simple as: point and shoot.  It's: take out the digital camera on Av or Tv mode (make sure it's on the right ISO speed.  If shooting ISO 140, set the exposure up 2/3 of a stop); meter the light and get a usable shutter speed vs. f-number, since the Start only has a small range of both); switch to the Start 66; set the correct shutter speed and f-number; try to frame the picture (because of the prism, it's hard because everything is reversed and I'm not very used to it); try to focus (almost impossible since the finder isn't the easiest to look into); cock the shutter; steady the camera and fire.
As you can see, shooting a portrait is almost impossible unless your subject has loads of patience.  Trying to shoot a picture where there are lots of people milling around, getting in front of your shot, and the clouds up ahead are changing the lighting from second-to-second (thus requiring repeat metering), can tax your own patience.
This camera was not designed to be ergonomic.  Handling it is like handling a small loaf of stale bread; this does not make for the easiest way to frame a picture and makes it much more likely that I will drop on the ground, only to watch in horror as the whole thing bursts apart upon impact.  After shooing my first roll, I also realized the the shutter most likely has a sticky blade (that or there is a hole in the camera) as about half the pictures have burn marks on them (over-exposed areas consistent with light leakage).
My introduction to medium format photography has been a pleasant one.  It's actually re-ignited my passion for photography (though I must admit my talent is lacking), and it's quite fun to play with.  I hope that eventually I'll be able to master the finicky device and take pictures that are in-focus (still a challenge) and properly exposed.

The Start 66 camera I purchased.

A Little Bit of the Countryside

I know many think that the Polish countryside is nothing really to look at.  It's true that it doesn't exactly conjure up the image of delightful little medieval hamlets as one would find in Germany, France, and Britain; however, some flashes of quaintness are apt to appear.  Recently, I was on a ride through the outskirts near southern Warsaw, so I snapped a few pictures here and there.  One thing can be said for the outlying areas: they have shitloads of hardware stores and fabric shops.

While there are farms that dot the area, they are not as picturesque as one would hope.  Maybe it was the route I took, or that I didn't delve deeper into the countryside, but it is a little underwhelming.  Common complaints are a lack of building codes or regulated construction, or scars left over from an aborted attempt at collectivization.  Oh, and a few massive wars that eliminated any sort of old cozy collection of buildings.

Tilling a plot with a horse.  I was moving too quickly to get a clear shot.

A carpet of poppies and (I think) forget-me-nots in a field.

Drinking outside a general store.

More fields.

Plane Crash: After Effects: The First Few Hours

With the recent tragedy that has fallen upon Poland, the outpouring has been immediate. In downtown Warsaw, Polish flags are waving everywhere, each adorned with a black strip of mourning. In front of the Presidential Palace on Krakowskie Przedmiescie, a huge crowd of several thousand showed up. Piles of flowers and a small forest of candles flicker in the cold spring air.

The flags of Poland, the EU, and NATO fly at half-mast.

Flags of mourning fly everywhere.

…even from a sex shop.

I walked around to catch the general mood of the Poles in mourning. The people are quiet, barely talking above a whisper to themselves; some say prayers, others mutter to each other; a few brave souls sing hymns aloud, creating a ghostly sound as their voices waft over the crowd. The flower and candle sellers are doing a brisk business. Many people bring bouquets of tulips or roses to plant near the lions that guard the gates at the presidential palace. Others bring wreaths, scarves, or maybe just a single rose. As I said before, the mood was quiet and glum, but the amount of cameras is absolutely astonishing. Every other person is touting a big expensive SLR and snapping away with abandon; babci wave around their tiny Exilims, teens hold up their camera phones, and TV men shoulder massive TV cameras. A small armada of dish-adorned vans were parked in a neat row, with TV personalities grooming themselves before mobile spotlights.

I am curious as to whom these TV personalities are.

Guards march to-and-fro from the palace, while two scouts stand watch.

Some scouts near the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier before going to pay their respects.

I was approached by an Israeli journalist. He and his team were in Poland to cover the March of the Living on Monday. The March is a walk from Auschwitz to Birkenau and attracts thousands of Jews to Poland each year. We talked a bit, (he was very nice) and he was musing if it would lead to war (I said that it wouldn't; he didn't seem to seriously think that war was possible.) He brought up the 2006 invasion of Lebanon over two captured IDF soldiers; I pointed out that Poland wouldn't be dealing with Hezbollah, but rather Russia. A couple of others of his team came by and we chatted a bit before they left for food. I asked them what they thought of the Poles and they seemed to think the world of them, but they did note that they were 'cold' in their mourning.

The reporter from Israel (Haifa, to be exact, I believe he said.)

The crowd was swelling to enormous proportions (thousands and thousands.) A truck unloaded porta-potties (Toi Toi) while police cordoned off a small passageway into the palace. Cars with heavily tinted windows rolled by every-so-often, and the police habitually came by to push the crowd back. The police were polite and respectful (not angry or aggressive, as I've sometimes have seen.) No one was causing a ruckus.

Unloading toilets.

The crowd numbers in the thousands.

I shouldered up into the crowd, cameras were snapping off all around, and waited while the police opened up a passageway through the crowd. A few smartly-dressed soldiers marched in and out; every so often a car would drive either in or out of the palace; and finally, three men walked up to the crowd. The men drew reporters like a magnet drawing metal shavings; in an instant, they were swarmed with journalists shoving microphones near them and all the while sending off a storm of camera flashes. The man in the middle spoke a few words (none that I could hear) then headed back to the Palace with his menagerie of journalists in tow. A steady stream of press folk went to the palace entrance (under colonnade), where I presume there was an address of some sort. I didn't think quickly enough to whip out my Canon and try to make it in, but stood at the entrance a little longer. Regular people were allowed in on the far side, and exited on my side.

The media circus swarms around the Government men (I don't recognize them) for a brief announcement. (This sequence of photos takes place in about twenty seconds, to give you an idea.)

The supermarkets were packed. Crowds of people, much more than are usually there on Saturdays, are stocking up in case all the stores are closed on Sunday. A one-week period of mourning has been called, with a two-minute moment of silence at noon on Sunday.

Horns (sounding like air raid sirens) blasted for two minutes on Sunday at the time of the crash, and again at noon. They were to mark the passing of the President of Rzeczpospolita Polska and the nearly-100 other souls.

Some nuns (whom I had seen earlier at the palace) pray at the cross near the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, while a candle seller hawks his wares on Krakowskie Przedmiescie.

The forest of candles and flowers.