Page 4--Tuesday, October 24, 1978-The Michigan Daily
The Michigan Daily-Tuesday,
Exposing yourself to color film
Once there was a
wa
By BRAD BENJAMIN
Still a growing pastime, photography
is by now one of the most popular
hobbies in the world. Whether it is
reliving spring break on Miami Beach
or reminiscing about the time you
caught a dorm-mate off guard, those
moments are all reproduced in_
"glorious color" through photography.
And it's as easy as dropping film into
your camera, pointing, shooting, and
getting the film developed.
But while taking pictures is quite
simple, the photographer's decision
about what film to use is as tough as
selecting players in a football draft.
You go to your dealer for a roll of color
film and such jargon as "ASA,"
"saturation," and "grain" is barked
back at you. Do you get a slide, or
negative film? Do you use daylight or
tungsten film? Before your frustration
leads you to destroy your Instamatic,
perhaps I can offer some solutions.
THE FIRST decision-one which
must be made before you buy film-is
how you Will present your results. Will
you have photos you want enlarged,
mounted, and hung on your living room
wall? All film formats are proper, but
you have to discover which film's
properties are palatable for your
tastes.
For the beginner, negative film is
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Are you
fed up with
RISING
PRICES?
Thenhere's
most appropriate because it has "wide
latitude"-a characteristic of film
which compensates for inaccurate'
exposure and serves as a margin-of-
error guarantee. Slide film offers only
'2-stop latitude in either direction. Thus
if you take a picture of the same
subject, using both kinds of film and
judge the exposure incorrectly, you
would have a cheaper and more
detailed print from the negative.
Another advantage of negative film is
that it is abundant in all sizes, and
rarely costs-more than the price of a
roll of Kodacolor.
A VITAL criteria in selection is film
speed, commonly referred to as ASA, a
numerical value indicating a film's
sensitivity to light (the more sensitive a
film is, the less exposure it needs). As
the ASA number increases, however,
one sacrifices "grain quality." The
image on a film's emulsion is composed
of silver hallide clusters-grain-and
the low ASA film produces the finer,
tighter grain patterns. In the end, the
decision is one of fine grain and rich
detail weighed against the loss of some
action photography and the added
burden of carrying a tripod.
Overall, Kodacolor II seems to be the
best negative film because of its good
speed of 100 ASA, its crisp, accurate
color rendition, and wide latitude. It is
excellent when shooting landscapes or
brightly colored subjects; thus it is an
ideal film for vacation shooting.
If your main interest is portrait work,
then Kodak's Vericolor 100 is the top
choice. It renders very true flesh tones
and tends to mute shocking
discolorations. As for non-Kodak
brands, I have found that Fuji 100 is as
good as Kodacolor I, Afga-Color is
satisfactory, and GAF is awful.
IF NEGATIVES have better latitude
and films such as Kodacolor II and
Vericolor areso good, then why bother
using slides? Mainly, because slides
offer a far greater film choice, give
richer colors, and-if your technique is
up to it-allow for more creativity.
There are at least two dozen slide
films on the market, the most popular
two being Kodachrome 25 and
Kodachrome 64. Personally, I use
Kodacolor almost exclusively, because
it offers brilliant color, superb grain,
and little variation among batches of
film.
Daylight Ektachrome comes in three
speeds: 100, 200, and the new 400. They
do a fine job of recording foilage and
flesh tones. The major difference
between Ektachrome and Kodachrome
is that-Ektachrome has an overall blue-
green tinge, and can not reproduce the
warmer colors (red, yellow, and
orange) as well as Kodachrome.
UNLIKE NEGATIVE films, I think
the non-Kodak brands can more than
hold a candle to the Kodaks when it
comes to slides, even though they use
Kodak chemicals and processes.
Specialty slide films allow the
photographer to make color corrections
and be creative with the camera.
Tungsten film, when combined with
appropriate filters, can help you
conquer multi-colored theatrical lights,
ultra-violet rays, and casts from
flourescent lighting. Infrared film
allows for unusual and exciting
alterations of everyday color.
Prints from slides tend to give less
contrast but far more color. They can
also be two to three times more
expensive. If you want an enlargement
from a slide, I recommend that you ask
for Cibachrome-a paper and a process
that yields the most brilliant color while
being fade-resistent.
If you are especially interested in
color, its theories, and its subleties, I
suggest Bob Nadler's The Complete
Book of Color.
A final thought: film is cheap!
Instead of saving the last shot of your
role for another day, shoot what you
want when you want it, and simply buy
another roll. Otherwise you will regret
that you held back-especially during a
vacation.
Bracket your film constantly so you
are assured of getting a proper
exposure. After all, if you believe that
film is too costly, then photography is
too expensive for you.
(Continued from Page 5)
playing one of their classic numbers
together was so revalatory, such a
dream come true, that it wasn't until
the second number, "Penny Lane,"
that an aura of . . of.uncertainty
pervaded the performance. It wasn't
anything horribly wrong-perhaps
simply the incongruity of George's slick-
slide guitar sound, or Ringo's
drumming, which lacked the vital
energy of his up-and-down thumping in
the early days. Paul's voice cracked
just a touch on the line "There beneath
the blue suburban skies," and he and
John exchanged a quick glance, as if
they both had the disturbing sensation
of engaging in an innocuous middle-
aged parody of their youth. The
audience applauded respectfully at the
song's conclusion, however, and the
group responded with. one of their
classic synchronized bows.
JOHN THEN announced wryly, "I'd
loik to dedicate this one to all pf you
moss murderers out there," pounding
out the racous opening chords of
"Helter Skelter." The feeling, though,
still intangible, was definite now:
something essential was lacking, that
special Beatles . . . magic. Perhaps the
problem lay in the absence of vital
details, like the whimsical grace-notes
in the "You've Got To Hide Your Love
Away" flute solo. or the electric fuzz on
"Dear Prudence," or Paul's little
chuckle on the line "writing fifty
times" in "Maxwell's Silver Hammer."
The Beatles seemed to be doing what
everyone had expected-and,
inexplicably, it wasn't enough. There
was visible anxiety in the audience
when John wheeled Yoko onto the stage
in a purple rickshaw, and Linda
McCartney sauntered on from the
opposite side. There was meager
applause and substantial hissing, as
well as cries of "Yoko go home!," as
the two Beatle wives embraced and
began an out-of-tune chorus of "Two of
Us," accompanied by Yolso on bongos
and Linda's pedestrian keyboard
playing. No one had ever actually heard
Linda's playing at a Wings concert, and
Paul seemed to wince with
embarassment when she got a beat
sheepishly, "It's 'ard to remember that
old stoof when I got all me Wings songs -
in me 'ead. I'get 'em mixed oop with
'Loondon Town.' "
THERE WAS an awkward pause on
stage, accompanied by a flurry of
concerned murmuring in the crowd.
"Hey, lads," Paul said suddenly, "are
we goin' to play or not, eh?"
"Yea, let's play," John said,
breaking into a huge grin and joking, "I
don't 'ave any oother plans for tonight,
at any rate!" to which the audience
responded with a rousing laugh.
The next song was "Girl," which
John delivered with great warmth and
sensitivity. In the instrumental break
near the end, however, he turned away
from his mike and said to Paul, with a
derisive twang, "Sure, we'll play.
You're the fookin' boss, and if you want
to play, then we'll play. Joost like ya
told George how to play the gee-tar solo
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haven't gone up at
764-0558,
Norwegian Wood, but yer own the beat,
;ongs-no one can listen to 'em! I can't Beatles o
even play side two of Pepper, because are pour
that five-minute long Within You, sang Le
Without You is such bloody awful made the
rubbish." watched,
"Well," said George somberly, "I'm for word
sorry that ya never liked me display,
compositions, but what 'ave you Beatles a
been doin' for the last four years then, once aga
eh? Wall and Bridges is ancient And ti
history, Joan, and ya joost sit around strappinj
New York goin' to art galleries and leather
stoof." stared v
"I know, I know," John said mouthed
miserably. "Jesus Christ, don't ya man whi
think I know? But I got me pain to deal McCart
with. Me mother, y'know, possed on chartreu
when I was just a lad, and I-" disintegi
"Oh fook, he's not goin on about his assassin
mum again, is 'e?" groaned placed o
McCartney. bassist,
"WAIT! WAIT! Stop all this, now!" loser, elh
I'd get
Reengo.
but I'll b
end! In'
revenge,
years, b
pay in t
would ge
-S I 'ave!"
!. A TH
through
took co
stony da
and sta
Shout,"
playin' d
we're th
the Beat
Out of t
people t
for anyt
anger.
Pete
The voice was Ringo's. The truncated wings, V
drummer placed his drumsticks on his security
stool. He walked slowly to the center of stage wi
the stage, his coat dragging on the floor and the
behind him. The crowd quieted down, onslaug
until Ringo stood in dead silence before spewing
his fans. remaini
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began in rampag
a soft, gentle voice. "I know we're lifeless y
not doin' our best, but it's very, very ' had left I
hard to put an act like this together af- "You
ter all these years. Christ, I'm 37 woman
years old and I still can't play a proper never c
roll on the drooms. But please, I beg carcass
you, be patient. And mates," he said, passed o
looking around at his fellow Beatles, the body
"let's stop all this fightin' and arguin'. the fans
We came to play, and we're goin' to shirtslee
play. Even if it kills us." limbs.
The crowd applauded, slowly at first, "Neve
then louder and louder until Madison man of
Square Garden rang with their come ba
enthusiastic vote of confidence. These "WE
were the Beatles, and if any group shouting
could pull its act together, this one But he
could! The four musicians embraced hands.'I
and returned to their places, ready to up on th
begin the concert anew. knife, a
"Sometimes, in the early days," said emitting
John, "I used to write me introspective screech
songs, to represent me truest feelings Ringo
about life. Here's one of them now, for from th
aanyone who ever felt life possed them into a I
over." through
wish I
"I'M A lo-o-o-oser!" Lennon sang, himself,
letting the word pour out of him with good mu
haunting melancholy. "I'm a lo-o'o- He sal
oser! And I'm not what I appear to be. head up
It was evident in the opening you ma
notes-the song had it, That certain, equal tc
indefinable . . .something. Whether it down a
was ' J'hn's ,a s te u i n '
'e in s sep ed oUt understC
k
r
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-THANK YOU, luv," he said flatly
when it was over, quickly changing the
subject by strapping on his acoustic
guitar for a rendition of "Yesterday.''
Although there were other certified
Beatle classics, that song always-had a
particularly beautiful and nostalgic
flavor, and many sighed as if living out
a Proustian moment of bliss when the
opening lines crossed Paul's lips.
'Yesterday," he sang tenderly, "all
my troubles seemed so far away,/Now
it looks as though- they're here to
stay,/Oh; I believe in
yesterday./Suddenly, I'm not half the
man I used to be,/There's a shadow
hanging-" And - he halted
momentarily, as if caught in a daze.
"Why she," he sang feebly, "had to go,
I don't know,/She wouldn't, uh, ask, I
mean-Oh Christ! I'm sorry, but I
forgot the fookin' lyrics. John, can ya
lend me a 'and, 'ere?"
"I told 'im to practice," John grinned
at the audience. "But 'e says 'I don't
need practicin'; I'm too bloody good for
practicin'. ."
Audience members gazed
disbelievingly at each other as their
heroes engaged in this absurdly petty,
b kering.
in I've Got A Feelin' when the
cameras were goin'."
Paul wore a slight grimace during the
rest of the number, and when it was
over, instead of acknowledging the
audience's response, he walked briskly
to his amp and turned up his volume
and distortion levels. Shouting
something to Ringo, he turned to the
crowd and said, with an evil glow in his
face, "How d'ya like this one, folks'?"
going into a sloppy, ear-shattering
twenty-minute rendition of 'Why Don 't
We Do It In the Road'?" He ended the
song with three minutes of screeching
feedback, then, completely out of
breath, announced, "He-e-e-ere's
Reengo!"
The crowd cheered with nervous
relief, hoping that Ringo would be his
own benevolent self and infuse some
good-natured befuddledness into the
disintegrating proceedings, perhaps
with a whimsical rendition of
"Octopus's Garden," or a spunky
"Wnat Goes On." Instead, Ringo did
"My Way," accompanied by Richard
Perry on string synthesizer, his voice
going sourly flat in the final chorus.-.
THE AUDIENCE was visibly shaken
at the end, when George's voice broke
through. "If you all quiet down a
minute," he said dolefully, "I'd like t'
say sometheeng." The murmurs died
down, and George said, "We wanted to
play the best concert poassible for all of
you, and so far we 'aven't done a very
good joab. And that's why I brought
this!" he exclaimed, producing a large,
glittering electric sitar from the side of
the stage.
"No, no! Not that!" Lennon shouted,
"I'm bloody.tiredofthatam thg...
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