Capturing Time: A Photographic Journey Through Château de la Preuille

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

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


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.

The HP5 Plus 100 ASA Experiment: A Happy Accident?

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

ParameterDetails
FilmIlford HP5 Plus 400
ExposureRated at ISO 100 (2 stops overexposed)
DeveloperIlfosol 3 at 1:9
Development Time5 minutes 30 seconds (using Kentmere 100 time)
ResultLower contrast, smooth tonal transitions, fine-looking grain, excellent shadow detail
CameraNikon FE
LocationParc de la Garenne Lemot, Clisson

THE STATUE – Front view of classical statue on pedestalThis 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, 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 pulled the negatives out of the tank and held them up to the light, I braced myself for grey mush. What I got instead was dense, rich negatives — a bit chewy for the scanner, but nothing it couldn’t handle. And when the scans came up on screen, I just sat there for a moment.

The first thing that struck me was the shadows. HP5 at box speed can get muddy in the dark areas — a graininess that clogs rather than adds texture. Here, the shadows under the pergola and along the fence are deep and rich, but they’re not blocked up. You can still see into them. That matters.

FENCE WITH LONG SHADOWS – Diagonal shadows cast across gravel path – wood grain inside film grain. Both doing their job.

2. Texture and Grain

But the real revelation was the grain — or rather, the near-absence of it. Because the film had been drowning in light and starved of development, the grain structure in the mid-tones is almost Delta 100 territory. Look at the texture on that weathered wooden post. Every crack, every split in the grain of the wood — the film is rendering it, not obscuring it.

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

3. Highlight Control

I’d been braced for blown skies. Two stops of overexposure in spring sunshine — I was mentally preparing my excuses. But the reduced development had pulled the highlights back beautifully. Look at those bare branches against the sky. It’s a grey gradient, not a white void. The film held on.

BARE TREE BRANCHES AGAINST SKY, Garenne Lemot — I was expecting white sky. I got this instead.

4. Tonal Range

And then there’s the tonal range across the whole roll — from the white marble of the statues to the dark foliage behind them. The separation is superb. There’s a creaminess to it, a classical smoothness, that I’m honestly not sure I’d have got from HP5 at box speed. A happy accident, as it turns out, can sometimes produce results you wouldn’t have had the nerve to plan.

ORNATE URN WITH STATUE IN BACKGROUND – Layered compositionForeground and background detail with smooth tonal transitions
CLASSICAL COLONNADE – Stone pillars with cloudy skyWeathered stone texture and cloud detail demonstrate the technique’s versatility

The Verdict

So, was this a disaster? Absolutely not.

In fact, it might be some of the most satisfying film I’ve shot in a while — and I shot it by accident. The shadow detail is rich, the highlights are controlled, the grain is almost invisible in the mid-tones. It has that smooth, almost medium-format quality that you usually have to pay for in slower film and longer development times.

Ornate scrollwork detailRazor-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 do it deliberately? Probably not — if I want 100 ASA film, I have 100 ASA film. But that’s almost beside the point now. What this roll taught me is that HP5 has reserves I hadn’t tested, and that sometimes the best thing you can do is commit to the mistake and see where it takes you. In for a penny, in for a pound — and in this case, the pound came back with interest.

If you ever load the wrong film, or find yourself caught between changing light and the wrong ISO setting, don’t panic. HP5 can take the abuse. It might even thank you for it.

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


P.S. The Kentmere 100 development time was a guess. An educated one, but a guess. The fact that it worked is either good research or dumb luck. Probably both.

P.P.S. I have since checked the ISO dial on the Nikon FE before every single roll. Every. Single. Roll.

P.P.P.S. The images from this roll are available as prints. Some accidents are worth keeping.

February 2026 — Clisson with the Nikon FE

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.

Balancing Film and Digital: A Photographer’s Journey

Introduction

Have you ever had to make a difficult decision that you really had to think long and hard about, one that would have real-world consequences for you and your creative process? I have, and I’m going to share this first-world problem with you. Now, I know first-world problems are a joke, but this problem became very real to me during the run-up to the China Orchestra Tour: film or digital?

You all know about my fondness for the analogue process and the results I’ve been able to acquire. Judging by my recent stats and pages visited, this might just interest you.

The Allure of Film Photography

I’m not saying this was causing me the traditional anxiety that I have been known to suffer from in the past. But… I had to decide how I was going to record my trip and, therefore, what to take with me. I’ll give you a list of my ideal kit, and it might help you to understand my dilemma.

  • Camera 1
    A recently acquired Nikon FE (my first ever Nikon) and black-and-white film, ranging from Fomapan 100 ASA right through to Ilford HP5 Plus, whose box speed is 400 ASA but can be pushed up to 1600 ASA and still provide great images.
  • Camera 2
    A Mamiya C220, which is a beautiful piece of kit with various 120 format black-and-white films, HP5 Plus, Portra 400, with the addition of Kodak Tri-X.
  • Camera 3 (maybe 4)
    My Olympus Trip or even the Olympus Pen EE S half-frame camera, for those informal colour shots with some Kodak Ultra and even a roll of Portra 160 for that gorgeous vintage style.

So, you have my film cameras with the film that goes with them. They provide a photographic experience unlike any other. The slowing down of the process, the reflection on each shot taken, the satisfying sound they make when you press the shutter release button. And so much more. They also look pretty damned sexy just hanging there around your neck, and people will think you are a “real” photographer, and that old-school vibe just adds tonnes to your sartorial elegance. Yes, you become a real poser, but do I care? Absolutely not!

The Practicality of Digital
  • Camera 5
    My much-loved Canon 6D Mark II, with a couple of zoom lenses – 24-70mm F4.0, and my 16-35mm F4.0 lens, and maybe even my nifty 50.
  • Camera 6
    Fujifilm X100F, the travel photographer’s ideal camera with the 35mm equivalent F2.0 lens for that sexy bokeh. It’s the Internet that said it, not me.

Now moving into the digital world. Convenience, convenience, and in case you hadn’t realised, convenience. I love them both for the variety of shots they allow me to take, and as I learnt photography “back in the day,” I have still conserved the same approach that I had in analogue photography, i.e., not spraying and praying like I have seen some colleagues do.

It is easier to use a flash, and you have an image that can be transferred to your phone, edited in Lightroom CC, and rapidly shared in the China Orchestra Tour WhatsApp group. And people can see what a great photographer you are. Couple the Canon colours and the Fuji film simulations, and you can have all the creativity fixes you might need at your fingertips.

The film cameras were there to satisfy my love of the analogue process and the nostalgic film look that only film can give. The digital cameras for their practicality, lens effects of going really wide, and having the possibility of going right up to 70mm. Choices, choices, choices.

Reality Check

Now let’s get back to reality and look at the ever-growing list of constraints. First of all, I am going on tour as a musician and not as a photographer. One really has to make this important distinction, as it gives a sense of purpose to the trip as well as the implication of priorities.

I would be flying across half the world, and therefore have to follow the demands of the air travel industry and airline rules. That meant no more than two lithium batteries, and one in the camera, and not in your suitcase but in your hand luggage, or on your person. They don’t like the idea of these batteries exploding or causing fires mid-flight. And because we are respecting the zero BS rule here, I don’t fancy that either. I would be limited by weight for my suitcase: 23kg and 20kg for flights inside China. My priority was to be a musician first and not a photographer, if ever I needed reminding…

If I were going to the UK, I would just have to annoy my family in the car with it being loaded up with camera gear, but this is China we’re talking about. Not a jaunt across the Channel.

In my suitcase, I will need my clothes for two weeks, my suit for concerts, shoes for concerts, wash bag with all my toiletries, as well as my CPAP machine for my sleep apnoea (I have to think about my quality of sleep as well as not snoring for my unsuspecting roommate Corentin). My hand luggage would be my instrument, and as we didn’t need mutes, I might be able to get away with stuffing things up the end of my horn’s bell. Please note that I didn’t try to get a cheap laugh by using the word bell-end…

So here I am back at the beginning of this article, and yet now you might better understand my dilemma.

Tell us what you decided then!

Alright then, I will.  Welcome inside my mind and my thought processes. The sheer weight of all the kit would have made tking everything completely impractical.  I knew this and had come to terms with it.  I really wanted to analogical, but then had to come to terms with the fact that airport scanners can damage undeveloped film.  Also the Mamiya weighs a tonne and would have been impractical to lug around China, despite the wonderful images it provides.  Carmer 2 out!  Now for security check I had bought a metal film box for my films so that those charming people at airport security could check my films, making sure that I would not blow up the plane.  Not really my style…

That would leave me with Camera1, 3, and 4.  Cameras 3 and 4 are particularly sexy and Carmera 4 being a half frame camera, gives you double the amount of shots for your film.  However it uses zone focussing, and the ISO setting only go up to 200ASA so you need lots of light.  Camera 3 is similar in the fact that it goes only up to 400ASA so not good for lowlight shooting.  Cameras 3 and 4 out.

That leaves me with Camera 2.  Which is of course uber sexy and Aperture priotity, which I like, and has a larger ISO range, and one that I can focus accurately with.  I had black and white film for it which I enjoy using and know how it reacts and what kind of shots I can get out of it.  Very satisfying shots.  It also doesn’t need lithium batteries to work, so that helps rule that danger out.  But I would still have to contend with the possibility of annoying security staff, and annoying Chinese security staff, and as I speak no Chinese, that would be challenging. And yet it still had a chance of staying in the race.

Now lets explore the digital realm. Camera 5: The Canon 6D Mark II is a beast of a camera and one I enjoy using.  It’s lenses are beyond compare, and it would offer me lots of choice in choosing my subjects.  However it would be heavy, especially with those lenses, and despite being able to have my images straight away, would it really be worth that added weight.  Camera 5 out.

Camera 6.  The Fujifilm X100F.  Probably my favourite digital camera, and the one I took to the UK this summer as a test for this Chinese trip.  It’s small.  Compact and silent.  And yet despite being a digital camera, it has an analogue feel to it, and is also very sexy, so I can still pose with it and it will give that serious photographer look, and make make people wonder is he using digital of analogue…  Hmmm.  Sounds like a good choice.  It’s downfall lies in its power consumption. I would need three batteries in total.  Which would mean that I would have to entrust a battery to a friend..

The two cameras left in the race are the Nikon FE analogue camera with it’s 50mm F1.8 lens which doesn’t need batteries.  50mm was the lens I learnt photography on and would allow me to get some decent portrait shots.  However with the Fujifilm, I could change ISO setting without the hassle of changing my film, create scenic shots, as well as environmental portraits, and I could transfer the photos directly to my phone and share them straight after editing.  

The X100F: Why It Was the Right Choice

The X100F became the clear winner for several reasons. It’s compact and lightweight, which was essential for travel, yet it produces sharp, detailed images. The 35mm equivalent F2.0 lens allowed me to shoot wide-open for beautiful bokeh in portraiture and environmental shots. The range of film simulations, from classic Chrome to Acros, allowed me to quickly achieve the look I desired without extra post-processing.

Its hybrid viewfinder provided both optical and electronic options, letting me choose the right method depending on the shooting conditions. The controls are direct, giving me full control over exposure and depth of field, without the need to dig through menus. And though it’s a digital camera, it retains that analogue charm that makes shooting feel personal and intentional.

The only downside was battery life, but I managed to bring a few extra batteries, which wasn’t too much of an issue for the flexibility the X100F offered.

Conclusion

In the end, the Fujifilm X100F was the perfect balance between practicality and creativity. Its digital conveniences, combined with its classic photographic feel, made it the ideal camera for the China Orchestra Tour. The images you’ve seen in my latest China Series article were all taken with the X100F, and I’m happy with the decision I made and I hope you might be too…

Opening of the Film Archives, Château de Clisson, February 2017

I had obviously taken a break with the Canon AE1 and spent the whole of December and January in hibernation, as most grumpy bears of my age do. Get Christmas over with, then go back to bed… I like my bed. No, I love my bed!!

Spring was just around the corner, and Kate had managed to awaken the beast and proceeded to tell me what she had planned for the day. It included me, a camera, and the Chateau de Clisson. I had just been “told” by my daughter, and off we headed to Clisson.

Now, the Chateau de Clisson is no small affair by any means. It dominates the centre of the town, sitting atop a hill as an imposing structure. I remember Kate having begged me on numerous occasions to actually go inside, and this time I acquiesced.

It was the perfect opportunity to not only document the inside of this historic site but also to let my playful daughter do what children do best: be cute, or as they say in French, espiègle. At that age, she was still content to pose for the camera, unlike the moody teenager she has become. Yet, sometimes, that same playful nature still manages to shine through.

If you’re curious to learn more about the history of the Chateau de Clisson, I’ve included a link for further reading.

After our outing in Clisson, I retreated to the quiet of my darkroom, where the real magic happens—transforming the captured moments into tangible memories. The familiar routine of developing the film, loading it into the tank, and watching the images slowly emerge never fails to captivate me. Once the negatives are ready and the scans are complete, I file them away in both my digital and analogue archives.

Then, a few years later, I get to share these memories with you. It’s a special kind of nostalgia—the kind that comes with taking time to slow down, reflect, and preserve what matters most. Thank you for joining me on this journey and for allowing me to share these pieces of the past with you.