50mm f/1.7 Archives - IJM Photography

The roll started at the Jardin Extraordinaire. It finished here.

I’d loaded the Pentax ME Super with 100 ASA and put on the 50mm f/1.7: a classic pairing, and I wanted that creamy bokeh you get wide open on a prime. The Jardin gave me the first half of the roll. The Forêt de Grasla got the rest.

It’s not far. That was part of the appeal. Staying local, keeping it simple.

The forest is loud in late April. Birdsong, yes; but mostly frogs. Excitable ones. Small things, but what a noise. Good job that I’m half deaf. I found a picnic table, sat down to write, and a wolf spider walked along the wood beside me, not paying any attention whatsoever. I approved of that. The mosquitoes were less indifferent: there was one with designs on me, and I kept my eyes peeled.

I wanted tree shots, and the forest had those. It also had toads, which I hadn’t expected. The latter end of April means the canopy is full, the undergrowth is thick, and everything is moving. In that kind of light, in that kind of density, I dropped the aperture: nothing above f/8.0. Wide open would have been chaos. The forest rewards patience and a stopped-down lens.

There’s a memorial at the edge of the wood: a granite cross, a Madonna behind ironwork, and a bronze plaque to Charette and the parishioners of Grasla massacred for their faith. The Vendée is that kind of place. History sits quietly in the trees.

I still had the Panama on. Still keeping the sun off my head.

All photographs shot on 100 ASA, Pentax ME Super, 50mm f/1.7. Forêt de Grasla, April 2026.

P.S. The frogs were still going when I left.

Black and white film photograph of a straight forest road with dappled tree shadow, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph of a lake seen through overhanging branches, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph of an empty wooden bench beside a lake, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph of a lake with an overhanging tree branch, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph of a granite cross with a Madonna figure in an iron-grille niche, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph of an ivy-covered tree trunk in the Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph of a curving sandy track through woodland, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph of a straight dirt track through forest, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white close-up film photograph of backlit beech leaves with a hanging catkin, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white close-up film photograph of a lichen-covered branch, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph of a sunlit sapling in a dark forest interior, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph of a wide forest track receding into the distance, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph looking up through tree branches into the forest canopy, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph of a family with a pushchair on a forest track in the distance, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

Black and white film photograph of a family cycling away along a sunlit forest track, Forêt de Grasla, Vendée.

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 — Lunch	HP5+ 1600 — Rehearsal
Light	Natural daylight	Mixed indoor fluorescents
Grain	Fine, subtle, clean	Textural, present, moody
Contrast	Gentle, even	Punchy, dramatic
Mood	Relaxed, communal	Focused, intense
Story	Community at rest	Collaboration 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