For a ‘Full Frame’ camera it is quite heavy. Certainly big, dwarfing my Ricoh KR10 from 1980. But without doubt it’s absolutely gorgeous. In a way it is almost cheating to call it an SLR from the good old days of film. When you consider it has over 1750 parts, four motors and four computers crammed in to its case and no wind-on lever, if it wasn’t for the fact you still have to put a film in the back you could easily mistake it for a digital camera.
The Nikon F4S (the S has an extra battery compartment) was ground breaking when it launched. First with so many features and light years ahead of the competition, the F4 provided the glimpse into the future whilst retaining the links to the past through its lens compatibility. Professionals upgrading from their F2s and F3s just needed a new body and all that glass that had accumulated over the years was suddenly given a new lease of life.
As a commercial photographer using Nikon’s D800 and D850 for my work assignments I yearned for a bit of nostalgia for a change. I already had the Pro-ject Essentials BT turntable reviving my dust covered vinyl collection but that wasn’t enough. I needed to get myself back into my distant youth mode and embrace film again. Of course I did have the aforementioned KR10 which had served me well for the best part of 25 years, photographing the family and occasional holidays, but by now I was into Nikon in a big way so it seemed perfectly logical to read up on the history of the D850’s predecessors. In the end the decision was made for me. Every report and review that I read pointed straight to the Nikon F4S.
£166 plus postage plus importation and tax fees bought me a mint condition model from Japan and a further £156 got me two Nikon lenses taking me from 35mm right through to 300mm. Brilliant. I was ready to indulge myself.
Analogue Wonderland was running a two-day film symposium in Nottingham giving me an ideal excuse to drop a roll of Ilford Delta 400 into the F4S and head on over to a city that I knew nothing about. I felt a million dollars with the Nikon suspended from my shoulder. During the afternoon there was an opportunity to get out and about in the local streets and these images come from that day.
My attention was drawn to the reflection of the far building in the water, with a couple of pigeons pecking around the edge of the pool. The composition also fulfilled my obsessive passion for level horizontal and upright vertical lines. I am not a great fan of having people in my pictures so I waited a short while to see if this couple with the pram were going to move, then, as if from nowhere, a tram passed slowly. Hand held, I managed to capture it just as the vertical lines of the tubing section between the carriages was in the centre of the gap between the vertical lines of the left and right buildings and even the couple are framed perfectly in the middle of the tram’s door. The result, unedited in any way, is one of my all-time favourite images.
Rules are for breaking. Even my own rules. I would perhaps argue that I have retained level horizontals and upright verticals – but albeit at a slight angle. What attracted me to this composition was the complementary design of the lamp to its adjacent building. The ribbed lamppost mimicking the stone column and the metal framework of the glass lamp holders emulating the subframes of the windows behind. It seems that the lamp and the building were both meant to be together from the very beginning but each as an architectural structure in their own right.
I am being enticed down an alleyway into an unknown world. The brick path is drawing me to the middle ground where a woman has momentarily paused, her attention being distracted by something on her phone, as she was perhaps headed around the corner and out of sight. There is light at the end of the tunnel, but is it a false dawn?
From the days of Burton’s ‘Modern Temples of Commerce’ when the men’s outfitters would rent out the upper floors of their gargantuan buildings to other users under the banner of Burton Chambers. Just seeing the Burton logo immediately transported me back in time to a period when the name meant quality gentlemen’s tailoring. When men wore suits with proper shirts. And a tie. When proper dancing required proper teaching to do it properly. It was back in the day when only film cameras existed. Life was a bit more sepia looking. So, a camera in my hand, a black and white film loaded; what better opportunity to capture some of that nostalgia that I was seeking?
Back to my obsession. Straight lines and no people. This centre of entertainment was just around the corner from the symposium I was attending. The strong sunlight casting deep dark shadows onto the golden stonework provided a compelling composition and the added grain from the 400 ASA film gives the building a 1930’s Mediterranean, North African, appearance. This image wouldn’t work digitally. Nor would it work in colour. How fortunate I was to be there, at that moment in time, with my wonderful, beautiful Nikon F4S loaded with the Ilford Delta 400.
Alastair Griffiths LSICIP
http://www.followthehatphotography.uk
http://www.alastairgriffiths.co.uk
Share this post:
Comments
No comments found