Waiting for the Light: Reclaiming the Cathedral with Ilford HP5+

I didn’t set foot in the cathedral while Voyage en hiver draped its silence in municipal spectacle. Not out of protest—I simply couldn’t bear to see sacred space turned into a backdrop. So I waited. And when the banners finally came down in December, I loaded a roll of Ilford HP5 into my Nikon FE and walked back in—not as a tourist, not as a patient, but as someone hoping to find the light exactly where I’d left it.

I’ve always abhorred political recuperation. The Voyage en Hiver had no place in the cathedral’s reopening. This was about worship. About returning to God in a space that had been quiet for too long—not about municipal branding or winter tourism. “Give unto Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and unto God what belongs to God.”  (Matthew 22:21)

That day, I chose God’s silence over their spectacle.

My hands were cold when I raised the camera. December light in a stone cathedral is a quiet thing—more absence than presence. I wondered, honestly, if 400 ASA would be enough. But I wanted authenticity: more grain than digital noise, more truth than polish. So I trusted the FE’s metering, opened up my aperture, and let the film do what it does best. No second-guessing. No LCD screen.  Just the click of the shutter and the hope that the light would hold.

And it did.

The frames that emerged are darker than summer would allow—but this was December, after all. And in that darkness, something gentle remains: the grain cradling the texture of worn wooden pews, shadows tracing the ribs of vaulted stone, candlelight bleeding softly into halos where no banner now hangs. Black and white stripped away every distraction—the logos, the seasonal clutter, the noise—until only what mattered remained: light on stone, silence between pillars, the architecture of reverence.

One frame in particular stays with me: the candles. Shot at 1/30s, my hands unsteady not from illness but from the simple weight of the moment. The focus slipped slightly. The flames blurred into one another. And instead of frustration, I felt a quiet relief—the film hadn’t captured perfection. It had captured presence. Grain became breath. Blur became prayer.

I didn’t go to “get out of the house.” I went because the space was clean again—just stone, silence, and the stubborn glow of candlelight. And for a few minutes, with the FE cold against my palm and the smell of incense in the air, I remembered why I love film photography: it doesn’t lie. It holds what’s there—shadows and all—and asks only that you trust the process.

They sold a spectacle. I took back the light. And the grain—warm, imperfect, alive—proved which one will last.  My small act of reparation…

The Opening of the Film Archives—the Hangar à Bananes August 2016

In my last venture into the film archives, I talked about how there was a time that my daughter hadn’t yet seen me the way I see myself and how she actually still liked me, before turning into a teenager.  This is the second part of that special day.

We had explored the Jardin des Plantes and discovered what they had to offer.  This of course builds up an appetite in a young lady, and convinces her that she really needs to drink something Daddy.  And why couldn’t we go to the Altercafé (now the D3) at the Hangar à Bananes.

So what else was I to do but drive us to the Hangar à Bananes.  You will have seen the Hangar in this article, and you will now be completely up to date and know nearly everything there is to know.

Don’t forget that this is a girl who gets an idea into her head and then just goes through with it.  That idea is so rooted that it is nigh on impossible to change that idea.  I knew what was coming.  I would order a chocolate brownie, and Kate would have an Orangina.  I could have a beer.  How gracious of her.

She had been my model for most of the day and even a top model needs a rest, and just has nothing left to give a photographer.  You just know when enough is enough…

The Opening of the Film Archives—Jardin des Plantes August 2016

There was a time when my daughter wasn’t a teenager.  There was a time when she quite liked her Dad, and she would accompany me everywhere.  It was good being that child’s hero.  It was a more innocent time.  It was a time when she actively tried to spend time with me.  It was a time when she didn’t see me the way I see myself…

One of her favourite places in Nantes was the Jardin des Plantes, a huge botanical garden in the middle of Nantes just across the road from the station.  I could talk about the fact of it being a haven of peace in the bustling city.  I could talk about it being an oasis of green in a sea of concrete.  I could talk using clichés ‘til the cows come home…

These photographs are not clichés, but real attempts of capturing a specific moment in time allowing me to travel back through time.  And looking at these images, I’m definitely back in time.

Let me introduce you to my daughter from 2016.  She was a 7 year old that already knew what she wanted but was slightly more subtle about it.  She would suggest that we go into town.  That I could take my camera.  That we could go to such and such a place.  That we could do such and such a thing.  And all this as if it were completely natural.  And I was a very willing victim.   

This time she suggested going to the Jardin des Plantes.  She would take her camera (my old Sony bridge) and I would take my Olympus Trip 35.  I used the Olympus Trip quite a lot at that time and its ease of use, the zone focussing, and general lack of buttons to press, made it quite the fool proof piece of kit.    

As usual, I let her lead the way.  This was here outing after all, and kept a respectful distance, so I could photograph her and record her for posterity.  The Jardin des Plantes has not only plants, the clue is in the title, but also is the backdrop to the Voyage à Nantes, and certainly was that year.  

I think the images speak for themselves and I’ll let you peruse them at your leisure.  They were taken on Ilford HP5 Plus film shot at box speed.

Film photography, the opening of the archives

Good evening Dear Reader. You may have noticed, and then again, you may not have noticed, that I have created a couple of new pages. Instead of adding article categories to my site in the menus, I have created pages with a carousel showing collections of articles in one specific category. This started with Photography Tutorials, which is a collection of, surprise surprise, photography tutorials. Another one for Travel Photography, one for Camera information, and a final one for articles featuring Film Photography. The idea behind this rather brash move on my part, was to help you find what you wanted to read or discover more easily.

This Meisterwerk of a blog is a work in constant evolution, as I think you may have gathered, especially for those of you that have been with me since the beginning. But what does this have to do with Film photography I hear you ask. Well, when creating the film photography page I realised that there are fewer articles than I first thought. This struck me as a little odd, because at one stage I had a little bit of a reputation as a film photographer, and at one stage was purely a film photographer. This was, of course, before the start of this blog lark in 2019. Between 2009 and 2019 I did a huge amount of film photography that I realised I have not shared with you. Even more so since 2016, when I started developing and scanning my negatives at home.

The beginning of the blog also tied in with the X100F and the Canon 6D Mark II coming into my photography, and since lockdown, I have done only small amounts of film photography. Time to reveal more of myself to you. At least if that’s alright… But this isn’t just about me dusting off old memories. By sharing these photos, I hope to spark a conversation, ignite a passion for film, and maybe even inspire you to dig out your old camera and give it a whirl. Who knows what treasures you might find in your own archives?

Moped with a Jameson whiskey box  as a baggage holder.  Looks very cool
Taken on the Praktica MTL3 probably with the 50mm Pentacon F1.8 lens on HP5 Plus at box speed in the Quartier Bouffay in Nantes.

So bearing all this in mind, I have a proposal for you. Let’s open the vaults and let’s have a look at the “film archive”. This could be in the form of a series of articles complementing the weekly outpouring of anecdotes or advice, as an addition, or it could be the content for the upcoming weeks. I haven’t decided yet. Let me know in the comments which option you prefer, or if you have any other ideas for how you’d like to see the film archive content. There’ll be shots of Nantes, the UK, England, and Scotland and maybe even Spain, and Portugal. There will be colour and black and white photography too. I don’t know yet. I might not have yet taken into account the magnitude of the task ahead. Everything is open.

On the way to Otterburn in Northumberland with the Pentax ME Super using Portra 160. It was another good day out.

But whatever you decide, I hope you come along for the ride. It’ll be worth it!

Choosing the Right Film Format: 35mm vs. Medium Format Photography

I shoot both 35mm and medium format, and people occasionally ask which one they should pick up first. Here’s my honest answer, with the two side by side so you can see the difference for yourself rather than take my word for it.

35mm is the format everyone starts with. It’s the standard: easy to find, easy to get developed, and every camera shop from here to Nantes has a fridge full of it. Medium format is a different animal entirely, and the differences show up the moment you hold a negative up to the light.

The most obvious one is detail. A medium format negative is so much bigger than a 35mm frame that it just holds more information, more texture, finer lines, without trying. If you want a print that rewards someone standing close up and looking hard, medium format gets you there faster.

Then there’s the shape of the thing. 35mm gives you the familiar 3:2 rectangle. A lot of medium format cameras, mine included, shoot square, 6×6. That square forces you to compose differently. You can’t lean on the usual rectangle instincts. Vivian Maier shot almost entirely on a TLR in square format, and it’s part of why her street work looks the way it does, different balance, different eye. I won’t pretend I’ve got her eye, but the square format does make you slow down and actually think about balance instead of defaulting to the rule of thirds out of habit.

Depth of field is shallower on medium format too, which is handy for portraits or any shot where you want the subject to properly separate from the background. Get the composition right and your subject sits there against a soft blur that 35mm makes you work much harder for.

Size and weight go the other way. 35mm cameras are small and light, which matters when you’re moving fast on the street. Medium format bodies, mine especially (see my Mamiya C220 review for exactly how much of a beast it is), are bulkier and heavier, and that changes how you shoot. Less grab-and-go, more plan-and-wait.

Cost is the other real difference. 35mm and its development are cheap. Medium format isn’t. Shoot 6×6 and you get twelve frames a roll, not thirty-six, which changes your relationship with the shutter button fast. If you get twitchy shooting 35mm, wait until you’re down to twelve frames and every one of them costs real money. That said, no shot is wasted, even the ones that don’t work teach you something, and if you’re after gallery prints or paid work, the extra cost of medium format tends to pay for itself in the result.

35mm also just moves faster in daily use, candid shots, quick reactions, film that’s easy to get processed anywhere. Medium format asks you to slow down and actually think through a shot before you take it, which some days I love and some days I find a proper faff.

Below is the same rough scene shot on both: a 35mm frame on the Pentax ME Super with a 50mm lens, and a medium format frame on the Mamiya C220 with an 80mm lens (roughly equivalent field of view). Have a look and decide for yourself which you prefer.

The 35mm frame, shot on the Pentax ME Super. The standard format, the one everyone knows.

The square 6×6 frame, shot on the Mamiya C220. Judge the difference for yourself.

Same rough field of view, 50mm on the 35mm body, 80mm on the medium format body, and you can already see how differently the square frame reads next to the rectangle.

If you want to go further into medium format, a Mamiya C220 review is coming, where I’ll go into what it’s actually like carrying that thing around Nantes for a day.

There’s no correct answer here, whatever the camera forums tell you. I use both, for different reasons, on different days. 35mm when I want to move fast and not think too hard. Medium format when I’ve got the time to plan a shot properly and want the negative to reward it. Pick whichever one matches how you actually like to work, not which one sounds more serious.