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

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 — Lunch	HP5+ 1600 — Concerto	HP5+ 3200 — General
Light	Natural daylight	Mixed indoor fluorescents	Mixed indoor fluorescents
Grain	Fine, subtle, clean	Textural, present, controlled	Pronounced, bold, raw
Contrast	Gentle, even	Moderate, balanced	Punchy, dramatic
Mood	Relaxed, communal	Focused, collaborative	Urgent, iterative
Story	Community at rest	Collaboration at work	The 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

Posted on Mar 20, 2026Mar 29, 2026 Posted in Black and White Photography, Film Photography, France, ReportageTagged 24mm, 28mm, 50mm f/1.7, analog photography, aperture priority, behind the scenes, Black and White Photography, classical music photography, community photography, cor anglais, cultural exchange, documentary photography, film experimentation, Film Photography, fine grain, Fomapan 100, French horn, music photography, oboe, orchestra lunch, Outdoor photography, Pentax ME SUper, percussion, Symphonique des Bords de Loire, timpani2 Comments

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

The HP5 Plus 100 ASA Experiment: A Happy Accident?

Posted on Mar 13, 2026Mar 7, 2026 Posted in Black and White Photography, Film Photography, Photography Tutorials, ReportageTagged 35mm film, analog photography, B&W film techniques, black and white film, Black and White Photography, film development, film development guide, film experiment, film latitude, Film Photography, film photography blog, film photography mistakes, film photography tips, film scanning, grain reduction, highlight control, HP5 Plus, ijm photography, Ilford HP5 400, Ilford photography, Ilfosol 3, ISO 100, Nikon FE, overexposure experiment, Photography tutorial, pull processing, push pull processing, shadow detail6 Comments

Hello lovely people.

I’m a bloody fool. I made the stupidest of mistakes when shooting HP5 Plus 400 speed film at ISO 100.

I’d been intending to use 100 ASA film in my Nikon FE, so in preparation, I had set my camera’s ISO dial to 100. I loaded the HP5 and forgot to change this blasted setting. By the time I realised, I had already taken “some” photos. I didn’t want to wind the film on to change the setting because the sun was shining and I didn’t want to waste the light.

In for a penny, in for a pound. I thought, “What the heck?” They say you have all this “latitude” with film, so I went online to find out if I could salvage the roll. Here we go for a walk in the Parc Garenne Lemot in Clisson.

I developed the film in Ilfosil 3 (1:9) and used the development times for Kentmere 100, praying that I would have something usable…

Parameter	Details
Film	Ilford HP5 Plus 400
Exposure	Rated at ISO 100 (2 stops overexposed)
Developer	Ilfosol 3 at 1:9
Development Time	5 minutes 30 seconds (using Kentmere 100 time)
Result	Lower contrast, smooth tonal transitions, fine-looking grain, excellent shadow detail
Camera	Nikon FE
Location	Parc de la Garenne Lemot, Clisson

**THE STATUE – Front view of classical statue on pedestal** – *This shot demonstrates the beautiful tonal range achieved through pull processing*

The Theory: Pulling Two Stops

For those who aren’t deep in the film weeds, here is what I actually did. By setting my camera to 100 ISO while using 400 speed film, I was overexposing by two stops.

Now, common wisdom says that pulling HP5 to 200 ASA (one stop) is perfectly fine. But I thought I was pushing my luck pulling it two stops to 100 ASA. I thought I was taking the mickey with the film gods.

By giving it extra light and less development (pull processing), I was essentially asking the film to reduce contrast and grain significantly. I was testing just how much abuse it could take before the negatives turned into flat, grey mush.

I didn’t develop it for standard HP5 400 times. I treated the whole roll as if it were 100 ISO film from start to finish.

The Results

When I scanned the negatives, I was genuinely surprised. The negatives were dense, but not unmanageable. The scanner handled them well. Here is what the process actually looked like in practice.

1. Rich Shadow Detail

The first thing you notice is the lack of “muddy” shadows. Usually, HP5 can get a bit grainy in the dark areas. Here, the shadows under the pergola and the fence are deep, but they still hold detail.

**FENCE WITH LONG SHADOWS – Diagonal shadows cast across gravel path** – *Notice how the deep shadows still retain texture and detail in the gravel*

2. Texture and Grain

This is the real winner for me. Look at the texture on the wood in these shots. Because I gave the film extra light and reduced the development, the grain structure is much finer than usual. It looks almost like a slower film (like Delta 100) in the mid-tones.

**WEATHERED WOODEN POST – Close-up showing wood grain and texture** – *The fine grain structure is clearly visible in the wood texture*

3. Highlight Control

I was worried the bright spring sun would blow out the sky. Looking at these branches against the sky, you can see a beautiful grey gradient rather than a blown-out white. The reduced development time really helped keep those highlights in check, even with the two-stop overexposure.

**BARE TREE BRANCHES AGAINST SKY – Intricate branch pattern with grey sky** – *This is the proof – the sky retains beautiful tonal gradation despite overexposure*

4. Tonal Range

From the white marble of the statues to the dark foliage, the tonal separation is superb. The process gave me a creamy, classical look that I might not have achieved at box speed.

**ORNATE URN WITH STATUE IN BACKGROUND – Layered composition** – *Foreground and background detail with smooth tonal transitions*

**CLASSICAL COLONNADE – Stone pillars with cloudy sky** – *Weathered stone texture and cloud detail demonstrate the technique’s versatility*

The Verdict

So, was this a disaster? Absolutely not.

In fact, I was pleasantly surprised. Because I gave the film so much light and reduced the development, the shadow detail is incredibly rich and the highlights are held back. There is virtually no grain in the dark areas. The contrast is lower than standard HP5, which gives it a very smooth, almost medium-format look.

**Ornate scrollwork detail** – *Razor-sharp detail and micro-contrast prove no sharpness was lost*

It turns out, what I thought was a stupid mistake is actually a technique some photographers use on purpose! Pull processing HP5 (rating it at 100 or 200 ISO and developing accordingly) is known to produce finer grain and lower contrast. I thought I was pushing my luck going two stops, but the film handled it like a champion.

Would I Do It Again?

Would I deliberately shoot HP5 400 at 100 ASA again? No, probably not. If I want 100 ASA film, I’ll just use 100 ASA film. It’s cheaper and more straightforward.

But it’s damned good to know that at a push (sorry, pull), it could work. If you’re ever in a situation where you’ve loaded the wrong film, or you’re caught out by changing light conditions, HP5 Plus can take the abuse.

Have you ever accidentally shot film at the wrong ISO? Did you save the roll or bin it? Let me know in the comments below.

Happy shooting

Ian from IJM Photography

Post Scriptum:

February 2026 — Clisson with the Nikon FE

Posted on Feb 13, 2026Feb 13, 2026 Posted in Architecture, Black and White Photography, Film Photography, France, History, Landscape Photography, photography philosophyTagged 35mm film, analog photography, black and white film, Black and White Photography, Clisson France, film development, Film Photography, flat light photography, Fomadon LQN developer, French towns photography, Ian Myers, ijm photography, Ilford HP5 Plus, Kodak Tri-X 400, Lightroom curves tool, manual focus camera, mental health photography, Nikon FE, rainy day photography, shooting in bad weather, street photography Loire-Atlantique, wet cobblestones, winter street photography11 Comments

Maybe I’m a little stubborn, just maybe, but I’m insisting on using my Nikon FE and for my health I have to get out. I had some Tri-X that needed using, and some HP5+ left over, so time to use it. And it does my mental health good too—getting out of the house despite the horrible light and rain.

“They” always say to go out in good light and use golden hour. We haven’t been blessed with good weather lately (understatement of the year contender 2026), and I always say just go out anyway and do it.

I shot two rolls that afternoon—72 frames total. Tri-X and HP5+, both at box speed. No pushing. I developed them in Fomadon LQN because it handles flat light cleanly: shadows stay defined, grain doesn’t get muddy even when the sky gives you nothing. When I scanned them, about half were ok enough to keep—36 frames that worked. Of those, maybe half a dozen were real keepers. That’s how it goes. Not every frame needs to be a masterpiece. Some just need to exist.

In Lightroom I only used the curves tool to pull a bit of separation between the wet stone and the grey sky. I wasn’t trying to manufacture contrast that wasn’t there. The rain had already done part of the work: cobblestones held texture because the light was even, puddles on the stairs created accidental reflections, and the streets were empty enough that I didn’t have to wait for tourists to clear the frame.

I won’t pretend I enjoyed standing in the damp. My shoes got wet. My hands were cold. But I needed to leave the house, and the camera gave me a reason to do it. The film was a deadline. The weather was irrelevant.

As you can see in the following photos, the light wasn’t fabulous, so we adapt. There are still interesting things to be seen.

Shot on Nikon FE with 50mm f/1.8. Kodak Tri-X 400 and Ilford HP5+ rated at box speed, developed in Fomadon LQN. Edited in Lightroom: curves adjusted for shadow separation only.

Nikon FE Review: Features and User Experience

Posted on Nov 21, 2025Dec 20, 2025 Posted in Black and White Photography, Camera reviewsTagged 1970s camera, 35mm SLR, 50mm f1.8, analog photography, aperture priority, camera, camera for slow photography, cameras, classic Nikon, collectionneur, film, film camera, film camera for beginners, film camera review, Film Photography, film travel photography, ilford hp5, Lourdes photography, M90 mode, manual focus camera, manual focus SLR, Nantes Photography, Nikon F mount, Nikon FE, Nikon FE specs, Nikon FE vs Pentax ME Super, Nikon take-up spool, Northumberland photos, photography, street photography film, viewfinder aperture display, vintage camera review, working collection12 Comments

Hello Dear Reader. I know you are an astute fellow, and that you never miss a trick. You will have noticed me talking about the Nikon FE. I will share something with you. I actually bought one at the end of last year from my HR director, but wanted to have the right time and places to start using it. One can’t rush this kind of thing.

Some of you might even say, “I thought you were a Fuji guy, or a Canon guy, or even a Pentax guy.” I hate to disappoint all those of you attached to a particular brand, but I am above all “a guy.” Mind you, this was my first venture into Nikon-world. Not a Nikon D something…. I went slightly more old school as I have been known to go before.

Why the FE and not the FE2, or even F3? The guy was selling an FE, that is why. Now that is out of the way, let’s have a look at this camera. First and foremost, it’s a really sexy camera reminiscent of those used in the 60’s by National Geographic photographers. It’s not, but that’s by the by. It actually came out in 1978. Secondly, this particular one was in full working order, always a plus; the price was fair for the camera’s excellent condition. I may be a collectionneur, but a camera is there to be used. Did I say it was a very sexy camera? I did. Oh good.

As I am wont to do, I took it out for a test drive to Nantes, and took it round Bouffay. And the pub… just enough to get a feel for the wee beastie. A roll of Ilford HP5 at box speed and I was ready to go. Verdict? So far so good. I must have done just 10 shots that day, and came back to it later, much later, to finish the roll. The feel in the hand was fine, and what I’m used to. The lens I have is a 50mm f/1.8, aka the nifty fifty. Usability? Aperture priority, which I enjoy. And the one thing that tickled me pink was being able to see the aperture ring through the viewfinder. Very useful… It’s since journeyed to Lourdes, the mountains, even Northumberland—never once feeling like a limitation.

Does it have auto focus? No. It doesn’t. It has manual focus, which I find easier to use. I prefer to choose myself rather than have modern technology do everything for me. Yes, I use it on my DSLR, but I don’t use that the way I do when doing film photography. Here’s a surprise for you: I am not built for speed. I am built for comfort and won’t be hurried. This kind of SLR suits me to a T.

I know some of you little techies out there need specs about a camera, so for you lovely people, here you are:

Nikon FE – Quick Specs

Production: 1978–1983
Type: 35mm manual-focus SLR
Exposure: Aperture-priority AE + full manual
Metering: Centre-weighted TTL (match-needle in viewfinder)
Shutter: 1–1/1000s + B, electronically controlled (requires battery)
Viewfinder: Fixed eye-level pentaprism (~93% coverage) with aperture & shutter speed display
Lens mount: Nikon F (AI/AI-S compatible)
Battery: 2× SR44 (or 1× CR1/3N) – note: the camera can operate at 1/90s (M90 mode) without a battery
Weight: ~590 g (body only)
Fun fact: One of the smallest and lightest Nikon SLRs with full AE.

Is it ‘better’ than the Pentax ME Super? Not objectively—but it fits me. I prefer Nikon’s take-up spool, and that viewfinder aperture display? That’s the clincher. Pentax glass is glorious, no doubt. But this? This is my beastie.

I’m over the moon to have this addition to the working collection, and I have to go and finish the film that’s still inside it. So yes, I enjoyed using it; yes, it wasn’t foreign enough to scare me. Do I have any regrets? Absolutely not! It works just the way I need it to, and when it comes to cameras, isn’t that all we need?

The Opening of the Film Archives – April 2017 On the Border

Posted on Dec 25, 2024Dec 18, 2024 Posted in Black and White Photography, Film Photography, Landscape Photography, The Film ArchivesTagged analog camera tips, analog photo series, analog photography, analog photography blog, Art of Photography, black and white, Black and White Photography, black-and-white film, Canon AE1, Canon AE1 tips, Canon film camera, capturing fleeting beauty, capturing nostalgia, daily commute photography, documenting landscapes, ephemeral beauty, exploring nature through photography, film archives series, film camera metering, Film Photography, film photography aesthetics, forest light photography, forest photography, France, French, French countryside photography, French village photography, Ian Myers, ijm photography, ijmphotography, landscape photography tips, light and shadow photography, light photography techniques, Loire Atlantique border, mistletoe photography, natural canopy photography, natural light photography, nature photography, nostalgic photography, photo journaling, photo storytelling, photographer, photography and memory, photography archives, Photography Inspiration, Photography Reflections, photography storytelling, preserving moments, reflections in nature, rural France photography, serene landscapes, shooting on film, timeless landscapes, timeless photography, tranquil photography, tree tunnel photos, Vendée photography, vintage cameras, woodland photography4 Comments

Good evening Dear Reader. Some of you may know that I live in France, despite being originally from the UK, and despite probably having gone native after living here for 30 years. I have even been accused of being a little “Continental” whatever that may mean.. I live in the west of France. You could think that I live in Nantes just judging by the quantity of photos taken in that city.

I actually live in a smallish village at the very northern edge of the Vendée and my village borders the “la Loire Inférieure” or to use the more modern term “la Loire Atlantique.” Our department number is 85 and theirs is 44. I’m not saying there is any animosity between the two, in the same way that there isn’t any animosity between the inhabitant of Lancashire, and God’s own county of Yorkshire. Absolutely none at all.

You now know where I am. Let’s have a closer look at that area through the lens of my Canon AE1. This series of photos was taken along my route to work. You can see the milestone on the road where the border between the two departments finds itself.

The trees along this stretch form a natural tunnel, creating an otherworldly atmosphere as sunlight filters through the canopy. Capturing that interplay of light and shadow was my goal with the Canon AE1. Despite some doubts about its metering capabilities, the camera performed admirably, and I’m thrilled with the results.

Since I took these photos, some of the trees have been cut back, making these images even more precious. They preserve a fleeting beauty—a reminder of how photography can immortalise moments before they change forever.

At the base of the hill runs a quiet stream, tame in spring but often overflowing in winter. Its stillness offers another perspective, reflecting the surrounding trees and clusters of mistletoe hanging high in their branches. These reflections, captured on film, reveal a different kind of magic—a mirror-like calm that contrasts with the lively interplay of light above.

This installment of the Film Archives is a tribute to the quiet beauty of my daily commute. Through these photographs, I hope to share not just a sense of place but a moment in time that speaks to the power of film photography to hold onto the ephemeral.