F.O.

I’ve been knitting in between playing with three different – no, four different – cameras.  I’ve got some mitts I’m working on for Josh, a shawl out of Noro, and I just finished the Flip Flop Socks in Paton’s Socks in the City booklet.

These toe socks were not really hard to do, but I think that the instructions were rather peculiar.  The yarn colors are also odd, making me think of the colors of rayon dresses of the 30s and 40s, but these odd colors I find quite appealing.  Out of all the stripes that Paton’s has in this series of sock yarn, I really like this one the best.  It is called “Summer Moss Jacquard” and about 2/3 of two balls are used altogether.

One of the criticisms I have about the pattern is that they measure the foot length from where the heel is turned, and where the gusset joins.  I just measured my usual 7.5 inches before beginning the toe.  Another criticism is that the little toes are only an inch long – if I were to have followed those instructions, I would not be happy.  They should say something to the effect of “knit until 1/4 inch shy of length of second toe, then begin decreases.”  Something like that.  And the big toe needs to be custom fit as well.  There are other oddities in the pattern as well, which I ignored, and met with success anyhow.

This yarn seems to want to pill a bit, but it could just be that I need to wash them so that any little fuzzies can go bye-bye.  I’ve never had any complaints about Kroy sock yarn – it is a workhorse of a yarn and very reasonably priced.  These days it seems that solid colors are hard to come by, whereas about ten years ago, patterned yarn was far more of a challenge.  Obviously, fads come and go.

Self-striping yarn is always fun to work with – it keeps me visually entertained during plain knitting.  What will the next round bring?  However, self-striping yarn is not something to use with cables or lace, unless you want to get specific effects.  For instance, Mini Mochi is a self-striping yarn, but the stripes are miles apart, so lace or cables can be seen, and not lost in the pattern of the color.  If you use narrower striped yarn, patterns which create ripples can be fun, as then the lines of color undulate.

These socks, despite pattern issues, were really a lot of fun, and an easy, quick knit.  Below are my own socks!  Not as elegantly photographed, but still pretty good . . .

Conscience

Tyler Clementi

The suicide of Tyler Clementi has been bothering me all week.  Two young adults, both obviously minorities and quite possibly victims of racism at some point in their lives, took it upon themselves to torment a young man because he was somehow different from them, and make public a very private encounter. Such despicable behavior is beyond comprehension.

There is nothing in me that can express the horror I feel over this.  I cannot imagine what his family feels, and can only offer them my thoughts and sympathy.  If this were my son, my loss would be inconsolable.  If the perpetrators were my children, disgust and contempt for them would be at war with my love.

These two did far more damage than they may ever imagine possible.

Sumi-e / Ink Painting Books, ii

Motoi Oi, i

Today, I am going to begin a brief series on a rather lovely set of books, published by Motoi Oi (1910-2004) shortly after his arrival in the U.S.  Initially paperback books, self-published and handbound by his wife using traditional Japanese binding, much of his work was consolidated into hardback by the Japan Publication Trading Co. in Tokyo.

The Sumi-e Society of America writes about itself and Mr. Oi:

The Society was created in New York in 1963 by Professor Motoi Oi to foster and encourage an appreciation of East Asian brush painting.  For the initial fifteen years (1963-1978) its annual exhibitions were held in New York City.  Over the years, the Society has grown and there are many chapters in the United States and a sister organization in Canada.When asked why he had started the Sumi-e Society, Mr. Oi answered, in part, “In the East, paintings reflect the great joy of culture.  They are a reflection of an intense personal idiom.  My idea was to provide a means through which the fresh, new spirit of American culture could be viewed in Sumi-e.”

Professor Oi was born in Japan and in 1958 he emigrated to the U.S.A. where he worked as a printmaker, painted, wrote books on Sumi-e painting and taught art at Queens College , New York City and the Brooklyn Institute of Art and Science.

In 1981, Mr. Oi was awarded the 6th class of the Order of the Rising Sun for his work in US-Japan cultural relations.

Oi Sensei

Oi himself writes on the inside cover flap of this book:

What is sumi-e?  Is is so simple an art form that a novice can literally pick up a brush and start painting right away.  Yet, it intrigues even those whoc spend their lifetimes studying it.  In this book, Mr. Oi introduces to the beginners the fundamental techniques of sumi-e and describes its spirit, which plays the most important part, in terms of … Zen Buddhism … a mystic religion of extreme self-discipline and concentration.  The importance of its [sumi’e’s] spirit is, however, too often ignored, and the craze for this art is usually based on a complete misunderstanding, the result being a mere imitation of its superficial features.

Given this, I am not even going to approach the spirit behind Mr. Oi’s books; rather, that is up to the individual artist and reader to explore.  Instead, I think it is interesting to read the book and consider what is said.  For instance, in the above edition, concerning rough sketches, he writes, “in following a rough sketch, painting becomes a matter of technique and hence loses the fresh, spontaneous feeling.  Therefore I do not recommend it.” What does this mean?  To me, it says it is best to look at each subject as something totally new and unexperienced.  It also says to consider the subject in advance – light, dark – and to consider the approach to the painting in terms of brush stroke, ink gradation, how the brush will be loaded.  This, of course, comes through practice of lines, circles, and other techniques, such as illustrated below.

Mastery in any art or craft means mastery of its tools.  Here, ink, brush, paper, water.  It also means mastery of the self, in whatever way it means to you, the painter, the artist, the craftsman.  I rather like these paragraphs from his “Notes on Sumi-e” found at the end of the book:

The ability to think is what produces a good Sumi-e.  A dexterous hand may turn out a mechanically excellent picture but not a true Sumi-e in spirit.

Pick up a Fude with a deep sense of humility.  Free your mind of arrogance and hostility.  You are not out to conquer Sumi-e.  Rather, you want to be one with it.  There should be neither a victory nor a defeat.  Complete union is the ultimate goal.

Sumi-e is a mirror to your mind.  It, however, surpasses mere reflection by rendering an image free of frills and pretense.  Only the bare truth is reproduced on a sheet of paper.

I wonder, myself, just how this might be judged by others.  For me, I know when I have accomplished this, free of the monkey mind; I can look at my painting and know it is well done.  But do others see it?  I think we are all prejudiced by our moods, likes, dislikes, current preferences.  Certainly what appears good today may seem like a horror the next.  As we are not static, perhaps this undulation of appreciation – this seeming fickleness – is actually a very, very good thing.

Arrival

Canon Canonet QL17 GIII with Canonlite Flash

Fresh from Sunday night’s purchase from Bob Wood (mercantile47 on eBay), this really clean Canonet QL17 GIII arrived in today’s post.  His pictures are really beautiful – the camera looks just like its photos.  In real life, the camera appears to have been well treated, seems to work perfectly, and is totally confusing!  A manual camera?  Setting up film, f stops, shutter speeds?  Add to that getting to understand how a rangefinder lens works and actually having the visual acuity to see it?  Yeah, it really is a mind tweaker.  I get digital really well, but this is an altogether new kettle of fish.  I am really eager to see my first roll of film, which I expect will be total crap because I am lost, there could be light leaks, there will definitely be user errors.

Resurrection

The other day my photo buddy and I got together.  He just acquired a Nikon D200 DSLR for a song, and in a fit of generosity (as well as a ploy to convert me to a Nikon fan!), has offered me the use of his Nikon D70 DSLR for play.   Isn’t that great?  And I admit, I am really excited about the idea of being able to use a DSLR with interchangeable lenses.  All my digital cameras have had fixed lenses.

I’ve also been on the hunt for a rangefinder camera as I have never used one, and am looking at several on eBay.  I don’t want to spend a fortune, so I have been doing a lot of research.  It never ceases to amaze me how much I learn while looking!  There are so many rangefinder cameras out there – some more popular than others, some with an interesting history, some for pennies, others for thousands of dollars.  To me, what is the most fascinating idea of all, is their supposed portability compared to SLRs.  I’m no expert, but my impression is that the plane of focus can be very narrow, and this gives pictures taken with rangefinders some of their charm – blurred foreground and distance, with razor sharp images in the middle.  As well as this, brilliantly detailed landscapes.

And if I do this – I need to get the pictures developed.  My scanner has an attachment for digitizing film negatives.  But!  I have no negatives that I can find to try it.  Solution?  Dig out my old, and only, SLR – a Canon A-1.

Tragically, I never really learned to use this camera.  My cheapskate side hates spending thousands of dollars on snapshots which I don’t like.  However, with the idea of being able to digitize snapshots, I decided to pull it off the shelf where it has been sitting for too many years.  It has seen better days.  It has been dropped fairly hard, to the point the enamel is down to the metal underbody, and the ISO dial is reluctant to move.  The lens has a haze filter on it, but the entire camera was swathed in dust.  The lens itself was jammed, and a button to release it from “A” for the automatic modes popped out when I tried to move the lens to an F stop.

As you can see, this poor thing has been really neglected.  I got most of the dust off, but this shows you just how much more needs to be done.  Despite this, I went out and got a new battery and the only package of film (Fuji 400 Superia) in the drugstore, downloaded and printed out a manual, which I don’t think I ever even read when I got this camera nearly 30 years ago.  I read the manual front to back.

I pulled out my tripod and set up a few shots, using only the manual elements to do some close-ups of an orchid in the yard, and the dying hop plant.  I tried to do shots with the largest F stop – f/3.5 with the 28 mm macro, and some with f/11 for detail and depth.  I have no idea how they will turn out, but recorded them in a notebook.  It will be interesting to see what they look like.  Hopefully not like snapshots!

It’s pretty amusing to think I used my digital camera (Lumix DMC ZS5) to take these pictures.  If I find myself wanting to use this Canon, we are very fortunate to have a camera repair place here in town that has an excellent reputation.

Time was when one used to be able to buy film in drugstores and grocery stores, but not now.  Online seems to be the place, and camera stores.  The varieties are still myriad, but local availability has dwindled.  Forget having black and white processed at a local lab – it needs to be sent out while color processing stays somewhat local.  It may be worthwhile looking into processing at home or finding a local members-only lab, but that is a bit down the line, and only if I get into it.

How times have changed!