The “Single Shot, Half Shot” Project: The Beat of Officer Harris

I’m frustrated.  I’ve tried creating a photographic project – my “Single Shot: Half Shot” project, in which I shoot the same roll of film through two different cameras – and I can’t get the proper film for it.  For weeks, I’ve searched from here to there and everywhere for 70mm 616 film.  Even the vintage “new old stock” rolls on eBay are going for crayzeehigh prices, prices that I can’t afford right now.   Grr.

And my deadlines for photography competitions are approaching fast.  If I can’t find any fresh 616 film in the next month or two, I’ll have to postpone my Single Shot: Half Shot photography project until next year.  The one picture I did achieve with this discipline – “Night Train to Heaven,” in which I shot the same film in two different cameras, thus exposing the neon “Jesus Saves” image against the image of a railroad track – well, the photo came out okay, but that was my last roll of 616 film.  Creativity crashed into cost.  Frown.

My two usual online source for this kind of film – eBay and B&H Photo Video – weren’t helping me.  I was able to purchase three rolls of ISO 400 Tri-X 116 film from B&H (116 film is 616 film on a thinner spool), but suddenly that film ended up on back-order, and I probably wouldn’t see it for another month or so.  And I was tired of getting sniped and outbid by other photographers who wanted the few fresh rolls of 616 available on eBay.

Of course, one can’t give up hope, and just when it’s least expected, a roll of the precious film came my way.  Yep.  A pack of Kodak Verichrome Pan 616 film, fresh from an eBay seller.  The film was still wrapped in its tight foil pouch.  Expiration date: February 1974, within my useable window.   And into the Agfa Clipper Special f/6.3 (my “Half Shot” camera) it went.

It’s late on a Sunday night.  I assembled my tripod, strapped the Clipper to it, and focused on any and all non-branded neon lighting I could find.  I didn’t want Budweiser neon or Coca-Cola neon or anything like that.  No, I wanted the Capital District’s funky, unique, distinct signage along Lark Street.  Signs that advertised Chinese food and burritos and jazz music and hair care and the like.

I captured each shot with an f/11 aperture, exposing for five seconds at a time.  Just enough to burn the neon lights into the film, but not too much that I blow out the film for the second part of my procedure.

As I proceeded along my little photo walk, several merchants came out of their stores, curious as to why some stranger was photographing their storefronts.  The conversation invariably went like this.

THEM – “Excuse me, what are you doing?  Why are you photographing outside my store?”

ME – “I’m taking a picture of your really nice neon sign.  I want to include it in a photo project I’m working on.  Hope that’s okay with you.”

THEM – “Okay… wow, that’s a real old camera you’ve got there.  Can you still get film for it?”

ME – “Sometimes… if I’m really lucky.  Okay, picture’s taken.  Thanks.”

Never fails.  Simply be polite and clear, explain what you’re doing without acting like the world owes you everything, and invariably people will treat you with respect and appreciation.  Don’t act like some elitist “I’m better than you and you’re not as important as me” brat.  It’s not very flattering.

Sunday night.  I shot the neon signs; and now it’s back to Cardachrome and a trip home.  I walked back over to Washington Park, where I parked my car and – oh look, there’s something tucked under my car’s windshield wiper.

Well, it’s probably a card advertising some dance club on Lark Street.  Nope.

Well, it’s probably some religious pamphlets.  Nope.

Nope – Chuck got a parking ticket – I and about 15 other cars who parked in that same area in Washington Park were each given a special $50 parking ticket.

I checked the ticket for any loopholes – nope, they got the car make and model correct, the license plate is correct.  I messed up.  It’s on me.  Johnny Badge 1, Chuck Miller 0.

I looked at the ticket.  So who’s the officer who wrote me this ticket?  Officer Harris, complete with his badge number.

Grr.  Insert “cops at the doughnut shop” joke here.  Insert “gotta fill the city’s quota and operating budget” joke here.  Insert “shoulda had a bullseye decal on my windshield” joke here.

But I didn’t have time to obsess about how the flatfoot fuzz harshed my buzz.

On Monday afternoon, I went back to Lark Street – this time with the 616 film packed in my flame-customized Agfa Chief 6×9 camera – and took eight more shots.  I angled the shots in such a way that it would hopefully compliment the neon from the previous exposures.  Photographed this business and that, flower shop and laundromat and tuxedo rental shop and fresh market.  Nice.

Then, on the way back downtown, I stopped at City Hall to pay my parking ticket.

Apparently the handwritten ticket wasn’t in their database, so I had to traipse up to the second floor of City Hall to verify the ticket.

I handed the ticket to the counterperson.  He punched in a few numbers on his computer.  Then he wrote some notes on my ticket and handed it back to me.

I looked at the ticket.  Without asking, the counterperson had changed the amount I owed – from $50 to $20.

“Why did you do that?” I asked.  “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I don’t want people thinking I’m trying to get out of a mistake.”

“It’s your first ticket,” the counterperson replied with a smile.  “So I took a little off.  Have a good day.”

Well, that was unexpected – and pleasant.  I quickly went back downstairs and paid the ticket.  Done and done.

Tuesday afternoon.  I received an e-mail from McGreevy Pro Lab, my local film developer of choice.  My film was finished and ready for pickup.  Lisa at McGreevy handed me my roll of film – developed, not cut, as per my instructions.  Nice to know McGreevy listens.

I quickly held the negative filmstrip up to a light bulb.  I’ve got images on this thing.  The film held up after 40 years of inactivity.  Aces.

This might work after all.

I spent most of last night scanning the negatives to a digital format, and then stitching and sewing the finished product together.  It took ELEVEN different digital scans to complete this image.  You’re going to have to click on the picture to actually see ALL the detail… but…

Okay, that’s the full long “filmstrip” version.  And then, after splitting the film in half and re-aligning it into a more viewable image… and yes, you may need to click on the picture to see all the nuances…

FINALLY I got what I wanted on my Single Shot: Half Shot experiment!  This is exactly the image – well, the images – I had in mind!  I created this amazing collage the old-fashioned way – with multiple exposures and vintage film and two cameras that were manufactured in the People’s Republic of Binghamton.  Hee.

And if it weren’t for that parking enforcement officer, Harris I think his name was…

Hey, wait a minute…

I looked at how the neon lights complimented the daytime images in the photographs.  I bet Officer Harris sees these neon signs every night when he’s writing tickets to parking violators.

And as much as I was still steamed about getting the ticket, I had to realize that he was just doing his job.

So why not… Yeah.

I now have a name for this artwork.  Yep, it’s a “single shot: half shot” picture… now known as The Beat of Officer Harris.

And you know that somehow I’m going to enter this little image in as many photo competitions as I can.

Because, let’s face it.  if Officer Harris can write me a ticket while I created this…

Then hopefully I can create an artistic image that will return the favor.