Category: Film Photography

Capturing Time: A Photographic Journey Through Château de la Preuille

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It was the 20th of March, the first day of spring, and I drove out to Saint-Hilaire-de-Loulay to photograph a château I’d been meaning to photograph again for some time.

Château de la Preuille has been here since the 11th century — through medieval fortress, Renaissance residence, abandonment, and whatever quiet resilience comes after that. Today it’s a living estate: chambres d’hôtes, gîtes, wine workshops, weddings. The people who run it have a motto: “It’s not perfect, it’s paradise.” Spend an afternoon there and you’ll understand why they chose it. The place has character that no amount of renovation could manufacture — it simply accumulated it, over nine centuries.

What they’ve built is worth visiting on its own terms. The accommodations range from rooms in the château itself to the old wine press building sleeping up to ten, to Le Donjon, a tower with its own private wing. The wine workshops — blind tastings, tastings under the stars — are exactly the kind of thing that sounds gimmicky until you’re actually there, on a working estate, surrounded by vines that have been cultivated on this land for generations. It’s thirty minutes from the Puy du Fou and feels like another world entirely.

I made one deliberate technical choice before I left: I pulled the HP5+ from 400 to 200 ASA. One stop of overexposure, finer grain, softer tones. For nine-hundred-year-old stone and dormant vineyards on a still March morning, it felt right. A harder, faster film would have been the wrong conversation.

What I found myself photographing wasn’t the grand architectural gestures — though the round towers with their conical slate roofs reflecting in the moat are there, and they earn their place. It was the details that kept stopping me. Wine bottles glimpsed through a window. The number 5 cast into a piece of rusty agricultural equipment. Ivy claiming the side of a wooden barn. Vine stocks twisted and patient, waiting for warmth. The decay and renewal that a place accumulates when it’s been genuinely lived in rather than merely preserved.

Black and white was the only option. Colour would have placed these images firmly in March 2026. In monochrome, they could be from any point in the château’s long life — and that ambiguity suits the subject. Preuille doesn’t perform its history. It simply has it.

Shot on Nikon FE, Ilford HP5+ pulled to 200 ASA. Home developed in Ilfosol 3 at 1:9, scanned on an Opticfilm 8100. Château de la Preuille, Saint-Hilaire-de-Loulay, Vendée. 20 March 2026. chateau-de-la-preuille.fr

YOU CAN’T BUY HAPPINESS, BUT…

Posted on Posted in Architecture, Bikes, Black and White Photography, Bretagne, Café Culture, Film Photography, France, Nantes Photography, Reportage, Street Photography, The Film Archives, UrbanTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 8 Comments

What Nantes teaches me about the good life

“ON NE PEUT PAS ACHETER LE BONHEUR MAIS ON PEUT ACHETER DU BON VIN.”

You can’t buy happiness, but you can buy good wine.

I found this handwritten on a Nantes café window, and it stopped me cold. Not because it was profound, but because it was honest. The French don’t promise happiness — they promise pleasure. And they’ve built entire cities around this philosophy.

I walked through Nantes for days with my camera, trying to understand what makes a city not just beautiful, but livable. What I found changed how I think about urban life.

The lampposts told me everything. Not mere functional poles, but sculptural objects — twisted metal trees with globed lights, as if someone asked: why shouldn’t street furniture be art?

This question was everywhere. In the Passage Pommeraye, a 19th-century shopping arcade where statues line ornate balconies and natural light floods through glass ceilings. In the Théâtre Graslin, where neoclassical columns frame a cultural temple that feels both monumental and welcoming.

Nantes treats beauty as infrastructure, not luxury. The city is meticulously designed but never precious. Historical preservation and contemporary life coexist without tension. Beauty isn’t gated—it’s in the streets, the squares, the passages. This is democracy in action: the insistence that everyone deserves to walk through beauty every day.

They sat on a bench in Cours Cambronne, an elderly couple, backs to my camera, watching life unfold behind an iron fence. They weren’t waiting for anything. They were simply being, in a city that had built space for exactly this: the luxury of unhurried presence.

Later, inside the Passage Pommeraye, a solitary figure sat in a bistro chair surrounded by statues and columns, resting or reading or just thinking. Alone, but not lonely. Present in beauty on their own terms.

Great cities understand something crucial: urban life isn’t just about community. It’s about choice. You can be alone in public without isolation. You can observe without participating. You can rest without justification. Nantes accommodates both connection and contemplation, and this is dignity — the freedom to exist in public space however you choose.

The espresso cup sat empty on its saucer, the last drops evaporating. Someone had been here, recently. They’d had their small pleasure — five minutes of warmth and caffeine and pause. Now they were gone, and the cup remained: evidence that happiness might be unbuyable, but this — a good coffee, a moment of rest — was accessible to anyone with a few euros and the willingness to sit down.

This is the real philosophy of Nantes: you don’t need to be happy all the time. You need access to small, reliable joys. Good coffee. Good food. Good company, or good solitude. A beautiful square to sit in. A tram to carry you home. A bicycle locked to a post, waiting for your return.

This is the real philosophy of Nantes: you don’t need to be happy all the time. You need access to small, reliable joys. Good coffee. Good food. Good company, or good solitude. A beautiful square to sit in. A tram to carry you home. A bicycle locked to a post, waiting for your return.

The French understand: happiness is abstract and permanent, a state you chase. Pleasure is concrete and temporary, a moment you inhabit. One is exhausting to pursue. The other is sustainable to practice.

The bicycle stood locked to its post, basket empty, front wheel aligned with the cobblestones. It wasn’t going anywhere right now. It was simply there, part of the city’s quiet infrastructure of possibility. When its owner returned, it would carry them somewhere — work, home, a café, a friend. For now, it waited. Like the empty chairs on terraces, like the benches in squares, like the trams at their platforms.

Nantes has built a city that waits for you, that makes room for you, that offers small pleasures without demanding grand happiness. You can’t buy joy, it seems to say. But you can buy a good espresso, and sit down, and see what happens next.

And sometimes, that’s enough.

Here is the full lot of photos taken at the begining of March on HP5 (box speed) and 4 photos on Rollei RPX 400, all shot with the Nikon FE, and developed in Ilfosil3 1:9. For me they represent different aspects of Nantes – Bouffay, Place Graslin, la place Cambronne, la rue Crébillon, le passage Pommeraye, et la rue de la Paix.

Black and white photograph of an empty café interior in Nantes, leather banquette seating in the foreground, a single espresso cup on a table visible through the window beyond.
Black and white photograph of a crowded café terrace in Nantes with people seated at bistro chairs in bright winter sun, a tram passing in the background.
lack and white street photograph of Rue Crébillon in Nantes, pedestrians casting long shadows across the wide pavement in low winter light, Haussmann-style buildings receding into the distance.
Black and white photograph of a busy café terrace in Nantes, a woman in a white coat reading at a table in the foreground, the square and shops visible behind.
Black and white photograph of people sitting on the steps of the Théâtre Graslin in Nantes, one person feeding a pigeon, the ornate lamppost and neoclassical columns framing the scene.
Black and white photograph of people playing in the open space of Cours Cambronne in Nantes, a statue visible in the middle distance, bare winter trees and Haussmann buildings lining the square.
Black and white photograph of two people standing together in a Nantes square, bare pollarded trees behind them, Haussmann buildings in the background.
Black and white photograph of two elderly people with white hair seen from behind, seated together on a park bench in Cours Cambronne, Nantes, an ornate iron fence and figures beyond.v
Black and white photograph of heavy iron gates in Nantes, several people visible through the bars, a grand white building with tall windows in the background.
Black and white photograph looking up at one of the distinctive ornate metal tree-form lampposts of Place Graslin in Nantes, twisted branches and globe lights against an overcast sky.
Black and white photograph of the neoclassical façade of the Théâtre Graslin in Nantes framed by shrubs, a lone figure walking across the square in front of the Corinthian columns.
Black and white photograph of a Nantes café window with the handwritten French phrase "On ne peut pas acheter le bonheur mais on peut acheter du bon vin" — you can't buy happiness but you can buy good wine.
Black and white photograph of an empty café terrace on a Nantes street, bistro chairs and tables in the foreground, string lights above, pedestrians and shop fronts beyond.
Black and white photograph of two women seated at an outdoor café table on a narrow Nantes street, a sushi restaurant sign and pedestrians visible further down the lane.
Black and white photograph looking down through the ornate multi-level interior of the Passage Pommeraye in Nantes, classical statues lining the balconies, shoppers on the ground floor below.
Black and white photograph of a solitary person seated in a bistro chair on an upper level of the Passage Pommeraye in Nantes, classical columns and statues behind them, empty chairs around.
Black and white photograph of a narrow street in the Bouffay quarter of Nantes, a waiter arranging chairs outside a bar with a Guinness sign, a solitary figure walking through the middle distance.
Black and white photograph of a narrow street in the Bouffay quarter of Nantes, a waiter arranging chairs outside a bar with a Guinness sign, a solitary figure walking through the middle distance.
Black and white photograph of a large crowded café terrace on Place da Bouffay in Nantes, young people at tables in the foreground, a statue and city buildings behind, shot on Rollei RPX 400.
Black and white photograph of a Nantes tram on a cobbled boulevard lined with bare plane trees, tram lines converging in the foreground, shot on Rollei RPX 400.
Black and white photograph of a Nantes tram on line 1 to François Mitterrand arriving at the Bouffay stop, passengers on the platform, a second tram alongside, bare plane trees above.
Close-up black and white photograph of a near-empty Cafés Richard espresso cup on a saucer and tray on a café table in Nantes, a blurred figure in the background, shot on Rollei RPX 400.
Black and white photograph of a row of Martin Hot Sauce bottles displayed on a wooden shelf in a Nantes shop, each with a different illustrated label, shot on Rollei RPX 400.
Black and white photograph of a bicycle with a front basket locked to a post on a Nantes pavement, front wheel facing the street, shot on Rollei RPX 400.

Birdsong in Black & White: A Morning at the Jardin Extraordinaire

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Birdsong in Black & White: A Morning at the Jardin Extraordinaire

I’d never been to the Jardin Extraordinaire before. And I’d never shot Ilford Pan 100.

Honestly? I wasn’t sure what to expect from either.

What I found was a place that felt alive — birds everywhere, water cascading down massive rock faces, people just being there. Reading on rocks. Walking along paths. Letting kids splash in the shallow pools. And if you look closely at a few of the wider shots, you’ll spot the Grue Titan across the Loire at the Hangar à bananes. It’s not in the garden, but it’s in the photographs. I like that. A small nod to the bigger story of this city.

The Jardin Extraordinaire is built on an old granite quarry in the Prairie au Duc. You can still see the rock faces where they cut into the hillside, metal walkways clinging to the stone, plants reclaiming what machines once carved out. And that waterfall — 35 metres of water pouring down the old quarry walls. Dramatic and peaceful at once, if that makes any sense.

What I didn’t fully register while I was shooting is how the garden fits into Nantes’ wider landscape of transformation. The Hangar à bananes, the Machines de l’Île, the whole Île de Nantes redevelopment — they’re all part of the same conversation about what to do with industrial space. The garden is the quiet, green chapter. The crane across the water is the bold industrial punctuation. When I got the scans back and saw the Grue Titan peering into a few frames, that clicked.

Full disclosure: I was the older gentleman in the Panama hat, moving slowly around the paths with a cane and an analogue camera. Taking my time. Stopping to frame things. Not in any hurry.

I watched the Nantais doing their thing while I did mine. A parent reading on a rock while children scrambled nearby. Couples strolling. And me, clicking through 36 frames like I had all the time in the world. Which I did. That was rather the point.

I did spot one other photographer — shooting with a very modern, very impressive DSLR. And I had to consciously stop myself from slipping into smug film photographer mode. Oh, you’re chimping your screen? How… digital. I held it together. Mostly. The honest answer is we were both just doing the same thing with different tools, and there’s room for all of it.

As for the Pan 100 — I’d heard it was contrasty, fine-grained, sharp. What I didn’t expect was how well it would suit this particular place. The Jardin Extraordinaire is all about contrasts: dark rock against bright sky, rough stone against smooth water, industrial metal against wild greenery. Pan 100 didn’t fight any of that. It leaned into it. I shot mostly between f/5.6 and f/16, trusted the FE’s meter, and when the scans came back I was — pleased? Surprised? Both. The images feel like the day felt.

My favourite shots aren’t the big dramatic ones. They’re the clusters of berries photographed close enough to see their star patterns, the metal butterfly on a gate, a single log on the path casting a long shadow. The things you almost miss when you’re moving too fast. With 36 frames and a roll that costs money, you look. You wait. You notice things. And then those become the photographs you actually care about.

I developed it at home, as always — Ilfosol 3 at 1:9, scanned on the Opticfilm 8100. No lab, no outsourcing. Just chemicals and patience. The smell of the developer, the little thrill of seeing what’s on the film. It’s all part of the same story.

I’ve got some Kodak Ultramax 400 in the fridge. Expired 2022. No idea what it’ll do. I think I’ll take it back to the Jardin and find out.

All photographs shot on Ilford Pan 100, Nikon FE. Home developed in Ilfosol 3 (1:9), scanned on an Opticfilm 8100. Jardin Extraordinaire, Nantes. The Grue Titan at the Hangar à bananes appears across the river, uninvited and welcome.

P.S. If you’ve been to the Jardin Extraordinaire, shot Pan 100, or you just love Nantes — drop a comment or send a message. Always happy to talk shop.

P.P.S. And if you’re curious about home development or scanning, ask away. Happy to share what’s worked for me.

P.P.P.S. And if you ever spot me at a photo spot with my FE and a Panama hat? Please gently call me out on the film snobbery. I’m working on it.

Black and white film photograph of a tree-lined path leading toward an industrial building in Nantes, shot on Ilford Pan 100 with a Nikon FE
Black and white film photograph of a woman reading on a granite boulder at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, a modernist building visible behind her, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Close-up black and white film photograph of dark reed stems crossing and tangled with cobwebs, backlit, at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a winding path through granite boulders and sparse trees at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph looking through wire garden sculptures toward rock climbers on the granite quarry face at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, a man resting on a bench in the foreground, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of rock climbers in harnesses at the base of and ascending the granite quarry face at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph looking up at the granite quarry rock face at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, a metal footbridge at the summit, climbers on the stone below, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of families and children playing on granite boulders at the water's edge at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, the quarry cliff and metal walkways rising behind them, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a person lying on a granite ledge at the water's edge in the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, trees and an urban building in the distance, shot on Ilford Pan 100 with a Nikon FE
Black and white film photograph of the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes seen through tree branches and leaves, people and boulders at the water's edge visible in the distance, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of the granite quarry rock face at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, vegetation in the crevices, a metal walkway railing at the top against a pale sky, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a wood chip path bordered by log rounds and post fencing in the wilder section of the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, bare trees and an urban building beyond, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a wood chip and stone-edged path in the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, large log sections and an urban building in the background, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a couple walking away down a sunlit path through the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, a fallen log in the foreground and the quarry rock face beyond, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a wide sunlit path through trees at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, two figures walking in the distance and a person seated on a log to one side, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of dense undergrowth and bare tree trunks with early spring buds in the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of dramatic metal staircases and walkways clinging to the granite quarry face at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, small figures ascending, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of the granite quarry cliff at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes with a decorative installation on the rock face, the Grue Titan crane at the Hangar à bananes visible across the Loire, a lone figure seated on the grass in the foreground, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a narrow stream winding through reeds and marsh plants at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, sparkling in sunlight, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a still pond with reeds in the foreground and a granite boulder beyond, ferns and vegetation reflected in the water at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a shallow water channel winding through granite boulders, marsh plants and grasses at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, shot on Ilford Pan 100 with a Nikon FE
Black and white film photograph of a woman with a backpack walking away along a path toward the granite quarry cliff and decorative rock installation at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a large-leafed fatsia japonica plant in sharp focus at the edge of a garden path in the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, trees and foliage soft in the background, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Close-up black and white film photograph of dark berry clusters with distinctive star-shaped calyxes on fatsia japonica leaves at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, shot on Ilford Pan 100 with a Nikon FE
Black and white film photograph of a wide view across the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes from higher ground, bare branches in the foreground, granite quarry cliff and garden paths visible beyond, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of fatsia japonica plants with large lobed leaves in bright sunlight at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, layered foliage and tree trunks in the background, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a garden path curving under a dense green canopy of trees and shrubs at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, shot on Ilford Pan 100 with a Nikon FE
Black and white film photograph of the waterfall at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes partially visible through dense foliage, ferns and climbing plants in the foreground, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of the 35-metre waterfall cascading down the granite quarry face at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, ivy and trees clinging to the rock on either side, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of water from the quarry waterfall hitting granite boulders in the pool below at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, mist rising from the impact, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of the full height of the waterfall on the granite quarry face at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, ferns and vegetation at the base, a still pool below, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of a shaded winding garden path at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, cobblestones edging one side, a log bench to the right, dense tree canopy overhead, light visible at the far end, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Close-up black and white film photograph of a single new leaf bud just opening on bare tree branches at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, the quarry and garden softly out of focus behind, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Black and white film photograph of two people walking away along a garden path toward the granite quarry cliff at the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, a residential apartment block visible on the hillside above, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Close-up black and white film photograph of the decorative metal entrance gate of the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, featuring cut-out starburst and organic shapes, the garden visible through the bars, shot on Ilford Pan 100
Close-up black and white film photograph of a cut-out butterfly motif on the decorative metal gate of the Jardin Extraordinaire Nantes, shot on Ilford Pan 100 with a Nikon FE

Part 3: The Grind — General Rehearsal on HP5+ 3200

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The soloists had gone home.

Saturday’s concerto rehearsal was done — the collaboration, the translation, the careful work of integrating guest artists into an established ensemble. But the concert wasn’t just one piece. It was a full programme. And the rest of that programme needed rehearsal too.

Sunday. No soloists. No concerto. Just the orchestra, the conductor, and the grind.

I loaded HP5+ pushed to 3200. Same Nikon FE, same 50mm f/1.8. But three stops of push this time — more grain, more contrast, more raw. If Saturday’s 1600 was work, Sunday’s 3200 was iteration.

You can feel the difference when the guest artists aren’t there. Saturday had a particular energy — the stakes of building a shared language with people from outside the ensemble. Sunday was just us. The regulars. The people who were eating lunch in the car park the day before. Corentin back in his seat next to me. Viktor on oboe. Nicolas patient behind the timpani. The conductor at the whiteboard, same as always, but now talking only to people he knows.

No translation needed. Just the work.

Here’s what general rehearsal looks like: we play. The conductor stops us. Again. We play. He stops us. From 47. We play. No, from 45. We play. Better. Now from the top of the phrase. Over and over, getting it right, then getting it better. It’s not glamorous. It’s not even particularly musical most of the time. It’s iteration — and the HP5+ at 3200 suits it. The grain is heavy but not ugly. Textural. Urgent. Honest about what it’s depicting.

What strikes me looking at the images now is the concentration. The hunched shoulders, the heads bent over sheet music, the conductor’s hands cutting through the air. Nobody is thinking about dinner or what they forgot to do at work. For these few hours everyone is just here, trying to make something work. The grain matches that energy — it says this is real, this is process, this is nowhere near the victory lap.

The full arc of the weekend, in one table:

Fomapan 100 — LunchHP5+ 1600 — ConcertoHP5+ 3200 — General
CameraPentax ME SuperCanon AE-1 ProgramNikon FE
LightNatural daylightMixed indoorMixed indoor
GrainFine, subtleTextural, controlledPronounced, raw
MoodRelaxedFocusedUrgent
StoryCommunity at restCollaboration at workThe machine in flow

Three cameras. Three films. One story.

The choices weren’t accidental. I chose Fomapan 100 for the lunch because I wanted calm. HP5+ at 1600 for the concerto because I wanted texture with control. HP5+ at 3200 for Sunday because I wanted the grain to do some of the work — to say without saying it that this is unglamorous, repetitive, necessary. The photojournalists who shot jazz clubs in the 1950s understood this. You don’t hide the process. You lean into it.

From my seat in the horns I photographed the machine I’m part of — the horn resting in its case between takes, valves gleaming; coffee cups on the floor by the woodwinds; sheet music thick with pencil marks. These are the million small adjustments that add up to a rehearsal. And eventually, if everything goes right, to music.

Seeing the Symphonique des bords de Loire through a viewfinder across a whole weekend changed something. I saw not just the work but the commitment behind it — all these people who could be doing anything else on a Saturday and Sunday afternoon, here instead, playing the same bars until they’re right.

Rehearsal is where the music is actually made. The concert is just the victory lap.

The trilogy is complete.

Shot on Nikon FE, 50mm f/1.8, HP5+ pushed to 3200. Edited in Lightroom — contrast via tone curve, subtle vignettes, grain left exactly where it was.

P.S. All three parts are now published: Part 1 (Fomapan 100, Lunch), Part 2 (HP5+ 1600, Concerto), Part 3 (HP5+ 3200, General). Thank you for following along.

Part 2: The Work — Rehearsing a Double Violin Concerto on HP5+ 1600

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Same diagnosis as Part 1, same prescription. The opening four paragraphs are genuinely good — terse, cinematic, the rhythm earns its keep. “The sunlight was gone. The fluorescents were on. The break was over.” — that’s a real sentence. Then the Roman numerals arrive and flatten everything into a report again. “What I’d Do Differently” is still there. The sign-off prompts are still there.

The three-column table is worth keeping — it’s doing more work here because there are now three films to compare across the whole weekend. That earns its place.

Here’s the rewrite:

Part 2: The Work — Rehearsing a Double Violin Concerto on HP5+ 1600

The lunch break ended. Tables were folded. Containers packed. The last crumbs brushed away.

And then they arrived.

Two Chinese violin soloists — guest artists who’d travelled some distance to play a double violin concerto with our little orchestra in a French community centre. They weren’t at lunch. They weren’t part of that casual, sunlit gathering outside. They were here for work.

So were we.

I put down the Fomapan and loaded HP5+ pushed to 1600. Swapped the Pentax for the Canon AE-1 Program. Same 50mm philosophy, different camera, different film, different mood. The sunlight was gone. The fluorescents were on. The break was over.

You can feel it when rehearsal starts — the shift from community to concentration. From chatting about weekends to counting measures. The conductor, same man who was smiling over a food container an hour ago, is now at the whiteboard, baton in hand, writing notes about tempo and bowing. The soloists take their places at the front. Tuning. Focused. Not quite part of our tribe yet — guests, professionals, here to do a job.

I photographed from my seat in the horn section and from the aisles during breaks. The AE-1 Program in Program mode — no thinking about shutter or aperture, just framing and timing. The camera handled exposure. I handled seeing.

What you witness, photographing a concerto rehearsal, is translation. Not just musical ideas passing between conductor and players, but something more specific: two soloists from one tradition finding a shared language with an orchestra from another. The conductor stops us. Softer in the strings. The soloists adjust. He stops again. A touch more projection. They adjust. We play. He listens. He stops. This goes on. Not because anyone is wrong, but because everyone is finding the same musical space.

HP5+ at 1600 sits in the right place for this. Not the fine, almost invisible grain of the Fomapan lunch shots. Not the raw, declared grain of 3200. Textural, controlled, appropriate — honest about the work without dramatising it.

The three-roll arc of the weekend, laid out:

Fomapan 100 — LunchHP5+ 1600 — ConcertoHP5+ 3200 — General
LightNatural daylightMixed indoor fluorescentsMixed indoor fluorescents
GrainFine, subtle, cleanTextural, present, controlledPronounced, bold, raw
ContrastGentle, evenModerate, balancedPunchy, dramatic
MoodRelaxed, communalFocused, collaborativeUrgent, iterative
StoryCommunity at restCollaboration at workThe machine in flow

Same orchestra. Same weekend. Three worlds — and the technical choices were the point from the start.

From my seat in the horns I see the whole machine differently than an outsider would. I know which passages are coming. I know which sections are struggling. I know the rhythm of this room. But through the viewfinder I see something else — the strings moving in that eerie synchronised way, the brass gleaming under the fluorescents, Viktor on oboe, Nicolas patient behind the timpani, Corentin next to me absorbed in something difficult, glasses slipping, completely gone.

The small details tell it too. A French horn resting in its case between takes. Coffee cups on the floor near the woodwinds. Sheet music thick with pencil marks. These are the million small adjustments that add up to a rehearsal — and eventually, if everything goes right, to music.

Saturday was the concerto. The focused, collaborative work. Sunday would be the rest of the programme — no soloists, just the orchestra and the conductor and whatever needed fixing. The grind. The iteration.

Part 3 is coming.

Shot on Canon AE-1 Program, 50mm f/1.8, HP5+ pushed to 1600. Edited in Lightroom — contrast via tone curve, subtle vignettes, nothing added that wasn’t already there.+ 3200—is coming next. The grain gets heavier, the light gets harsher, and the work gets real.

The Break: An Orchestra at Lunch on Fomapan 100

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Let’s be honest: orchestras run on two things. Music and food.

Most documentation skips the food. Concert halls, polished instruments, formal attire — that’s what ends up in the frame. But before any of that, there’s a lunch break in a car park outside a community centre, and that’s where I wanted to start.

I’m the fourth horn in the Symphonique des bords de Loire. Which means I’m also inside the story, not observing it from a safe distance. I know these people. I count rests next to Corentin, our first horn. I watch Victor — oboe, cor anglais, and the man who quietly keeps the whole enterprise running — arrive with a tote bag full of provisions. I see the conductor holding a food container and chatting, no baton, no authority, just a man at lunch with his colleagues.

That’s what I wanted to photograph.

I loaded the Pentax ME Super with Fomapan 100 and spent the break outside. Aperture priority, natural light, film at box speed. No pushing, no games. The choice was deliberate — I knew I’d be shooting the rehearsal indoors on HP5+ pushed to 1600 and 3200. Those would be grainy, urgent, intense. This needed to feel different. Calmer. The breath before the dive.

The difference, when you put the two rolls side by side, is striking:

Fomapan 100 — LunchHP5+ 1600 — Rehearsal
LightNatural daylightMixed indoor fluorescents
GrainFine, subtle, cleanTextural, present, moody
ContrastGentle, evenPunchy, dramatic
MoodRelaxed, communalFocused, intense
StoryCommunity at restCollaboration at work

Same orchestra. Same day. Different worlds — and that contrast was the point from the start.

Fomapan 100 in good daylight gives you an honesty about the light that suits candid work. The faces, the bread, the containers of salad, the glass bottle catching the sun — none of it is staged, and the film doesn’t try to make it anything other than what it is.

The two Chinese violin soloists — the guest artists who’d be the focus of the afternoon — weren’t there for lunch. They’d arrive later, after the tables were packed away. For now it was just us: teachers, retirees, students, professionals, amateurs. All ages. The usual mix. Gathered outside a community centre with a faded sign, sharing food before three hours of work.

This isn’t a fancy conservatory. It never was. That’s rather the point.

After lunch, the tables come down. The last conversations finish. Someone rinses a container. And then, quietly, the same people who were just eating become musicians again. The conductor picks up his baton. Viktor picks up his oboe. Corentin finds his pitch. I put down my camera, pick up my horn, and count rests.

The soloists arrive. The work begins.

That’s Part 2.

Shot on Pentax ME Super, 50mm f/1.7, Fomapan 100 at box speed. Developed in Ilfosol 3. Edited in Lightroom