A week of darkroom teaching

I've been working with students in the darkroom all through this week. One of the things we've been trying out is prints 10x8 inches or larger (we normally work with a smaller size, especially for beginners).

I always enjoy demonstrating printing; I think it's really important for students to see an instructor engaged with the process, leading by practical example.

The print above is on fibre based paper. It's a work print, ready for a little contemplation before a final dodge and burn plan is made (I think it will be mainly burning-in with this image). There's always a sense of anticipation as the print dances and the water flows. Don't forget 'dry down' though: tones become a little darker when dry, which can often steal a little of the perceived sparkle of the lighter tones.

On rambling (or, finding a large format modus operandi)

While I wouldn’t exactly call my early experiences with large format photography to date negative, my blog so far has tended to stress some of the intrinsic hurdles of the format. This derives simply from my knowledge and experience of other formats, and my awareness of the need to learn through a process of doing and reflecting. I expect stumbling blocks, just as I expect satisfactions.

This is a post about a further glimpse of the satisfactions, gained through a shoot in Cannock Chase in the Midlands. I have written before that LF demands planning in a way that small or medium format photography does not. You will of course see my logic: one cannot carry a LF camera and accompanying kit in the way one does a small shoulder bag with a 35mm camera tucked inside. I have blogged about this loss of what I called the opportunistic nature of my 35mm shooting. My visit to Cannock Chase confirmed this planning need, albeit I left with a slightly different view of the idea of settling on a location beforehand. I didn’t so much find and shoot a specific location as ramble upon one.

I had been engaged in making a colour photograph of a tree stump emblazoned with emerald greens and rustic reds. I suppose I got into the groove of taking my time and making the exposure; I had plenty of time (I was on location for the day), and had begun to take in my peaceful and beautiful surroundings. My tree stump was up a hill; I was aware of a view behind me too, and that began to take my attention. I moved the camera, already set up from the previous exposure, and framed and metered the new view. This was to be a black and white Delta 100 shot, a classic landscape-type image containing a tunnel of shimmering light.

Having framed, focussed and metered the image, I started to think about making the exposure. The scene contained a key subject in the near centre of the frame - a backlit fern that stood out against a darker background. The fern wasn’t especially big, but it was central, and the resting point for the eye in the picture. It was moderately windy: too windy for my chosen exposure time if I wanted the fern to be in sharp focus. I waited. The wind ebbed and flowed, but it was persistent. Having already made the tree stump exposure, I was quite relaxed, and, knowing the time I might invest in a negative and subsequently print, I resolved not to press the cable release should the wind not abate. Then it came: the slenderest moment of stillness, in my mind just the one second I needed to make my photograph. The fern went back to its little dance.

LF is a coming together of separate elements. It is demanding of the photographer because when a single element fails, so does the photograph. The converse of the this is that when an image succeeds, the coming together is quite glorious. Doubtless this is a romantic thought, but there is a air of destiny about it, a wink from an otherwise indifferent universe permitting a moment of photographic magic. My romantic frame of mind was hardly discouraged by what happened next: the light turned to darkness and the heavens opened. I was now in a photography novella penned by a Thomas Hardy figure.

Well, nearly, at any rate. My negative unfortunately shows that I should have paid a little more attention to the subject brightness range of my image. (I also regret my impatience with a developer measuring 21c and not 20c, but both of these issues are perhaps for another post.) It is a challenging negative indeed, with highlights a little ‘hot’ for my liking. Still, the idea of rambling upon a scene stuck with me, and, while the rest of my day failed to bring another exposure, I left feeling like I had got a little closer to a LF modus operandi that might fit with my own free time and opportunities.

Raise your camera ... saying yes to it

“Raise your camera as you’re thinking about it, saying yes to it. Timing is everything.”

— Joel Meyerowitz

As a young street photographer, I couldn't get Meyerowitz's words out of my head. It seemed such apposite advice for the would-be street shooter: you will find yourself looking on and thinking, but think too long and the moment will be gone.

I'm not entirely sure that it's a motto I've been able to live by as a photographer; I'm not properly convinced it suits my style, nor have I always been brave enough to execute it.

The above recent image is, however, one of those moments where I followed Meyerowitz's mantra exactly. I had been shooting all day long, and had long shrugged off any early self-consciousness or hesitancy (that's usually the way it goes for me: starting gingerly, getting into the flow). I saw the scene from the corner of my eye and immediately raised my camera. There was next to no time to frame, and my press of the shutter was immediate too.

It was one of those images, where I intuited that something had taken place, but wasn't sure it had come together. I'm not even sure I could have had time to perceive the whole thing; it really was a case of intuition and experience leading the exposure.

I enjoy the mystery of the image, and that it is made up of a number of interacting elements. 

HP5+ in Perceptol

It's not a conscious effort, but I feel I have become something of an advocate of HP5+ film developed in Perceptol. It is a combination that Barry Thornton used to sing the praises of, and I have found myself admiring it time and again.

It's all very well doing studies of film and developer combinations in the abstract (see my Pebble Project galleries, and blog posts for lots on this), but the simple fact is, for a photographer shooting black and white, it is the tones he or she attains in practice that are key.

The properties I enjoy with this combination are sharpness (with a little grain suppression) and a long tonal range. It's the latter I've really got in mind in presenting the above image. The scene was backlit - a classic dramatic landscape type image - and it really benefits from the film's ability to capture a wide brightness range. The undulations in tone follow and amplify the structural curves of the trees.

The marvellous Faraday lines of photography

“Light is thus nothing more than a rapid vibration of the spiderweb of Faraday’s lines, which ripple like the surface of a lake as the wind blows. It isn’t true that we ‘do not see’ Faraday lines. We only see vibrating lines. ‘To see’  is to perceive light, and light is the movement of Faraday lines. Nothing leaps from one location in space to another without something transporting it. If we see a child playing on the beach, it is only because between them and ourselves there is this lake of vibrating lines which transport their image to us. Is the world not marvellous?”

— Carlo Rovelli

Please excuse the somewhat lengthy quotation, which comes from Carlo Rovelli’s enchanting book Reality is Not What it Seems. I am not a scientist, but I do enjoy reading popular science books, and often find myself wondering (as in, seeing with wonderment) at the links between photography and the wider physical world.

Rovelli is writing about the electromagnetic spectrum, and more specifically the theories of Michael Faraday. His musings come in the context of a discussion of our commonplace understanding of the physical world, and how modern science has come to turn that understanding on its head. Looked at another way, Rovelli is marvelling at the action of light; he is addressing the simple poetry of the essential role of light in perception. And what is photography if not a kind of fossil which confirms this action? An indexical sign, as the semiologists have it, an imprint made by the physical action of light. Photography is a poetic confirmation of the existence of Faraday’s lines, of the action of the electromagnetic spectrum, and subsequently of our humble place in a much, much larger physical universe. 

To complement Rovelli’s words, then, I offer what I can, a photograph. It came out of a moment on the hoof: the camera was there, around my neck, and my son began to speak to me about his painted fingernails. I asked him to put his hands in mine, part listening, as a parent does sometimes, and I made the exposure.

The photograph is my record of this little exchange, this fleeting and intimate moment. Perhaps photography needs no such association with physics to be marvellous and poetic; reading Rovelli, however, I cannot help but think his words add even more gravitas. As a document of my life, the image is surely meaningful, and even profound, for me. Yet when I think of the Rovelli passage, I find its profundity only grows further. The physical universe is indifferent to us (as I suppose the medium of photography truly is) but science continues to make strides in setting out its enormity and complexity. To truly understand the physical effect at work in a photograph is to begin an enquiry into structures which dwarf our existence. Photography in itself has many wondrous qualities. By extending our thinking through physics, it evokes even more.

More about Rovelli's book can be found through this link:

Fish Market

This image is from a roll of HP5+ that I originally intended to develop in Perceptol. I had metered the roll at 320, as is my usual practice with Perceptol, but found that I had run out of that developer when it came to processing time. I turned to Ilfotec HC as a replacement; after giving some consideration to possibly curtailing development a little, I plumped for 6.5 minutes, which Ilford say is good for HP5+ exposed at 400. 

I had used HC mainly with 5x4 negs up until this point, and it strikes me as a flexible developer, with a good mix of qualities. The negs are good, with a nice open tonality, and they will make a flexible starting point for darkroom printing. My initial impression is that they are not quite as sharp as Perceptol negs. Perceptol needs a little more work because it has to be mixed from a powder (HC is a liquid, ready to be diluted), and development times are quite long when film speed is down-rated.

Still, it is pleasing to have the quality of Perceptol confirmed by comparison, and I shall look on HC as a sound stand-in for similar circumstances. I'm happy to embrace such a detour because there is always something to learn.

UPDATE:

Roy Bijster asks a great question on Twitter: 'I am a bit confused by "a longer development time for downrated film". Downrating = overexposing, so why the longer dev time?' I think I could have been more clear; I suppose this post was in note form, really. The answer is that Perceptol is a speed reducing developer, i.e. one loses speed by using it. A sort of 'penalty', in exchange for great image quality. With HP5+ rated at 320, the time using Perceptol stock+1 is 18 minutes. That's the figure I have in mind when I'm comparing to the much shorter 6.5 minutes of HC, for the same film rated at 400.

Normal practice, which Roy alludes to, is to reduce development when 'overexposure' is used. That's why I wondered if I shouldn't cut the stated 6.5 minutes for HC because I had exposed at 320. 

Summer print sale

For two weeks starting from today I'm offering 30% off all print purchases in my summer sale. You can buy a single print or more than one, and receive the discount. Simply use the code ALL30 at the checkout.

To launch this little sale, I'm offering a chance to win one of my small (A4) prints. All you have to do to enter is to re-tweet the tweet shown below. The competition will remain open for one week from today and the winner will be picked at random. I will contact you by Twitter direct mail if you win. No cash equivalent is offered and the print in question will be of my own choosing.

Use code ALL30 for a 30% discount on any of my prints.
RT for a chance to win one of them!https://t.co/Vxd8ESR4n8@EMULSIVEfilm #fineart pic.twitter.com/5ikeZNc3kx

— Richard Pickup (@richard_pickup) August 2, 2017

A pebble push (HP5+ @3200)

For today’s post I have altered the rules of my Pebble Project a little, so as to accommodate a little ‘push’ processing. To date I have concentrated on the effects of changes in film and developer rather than exposure. ‘Pushing’ a film involves giving less exposure than box speed and then adjusting development accordingly (usually as an emergency in a given situation, but sometimes for aesthetic effect).

HP5+ is known as a film that offers a very wide exposure range. There are plenty of people, too, who like to give it less exposure for the look it produces. My findings today contradict neither the literature nor the common wisdom on the matter. I am no scientist, but I guess that scientists would endeavour to check their assumptions just as rigorously as their more fanciful speculations. It seems to me like a healthy thing to do.

So what do we see? Well if you have been following this project, or are looking for the first time and are observant, you will notice that the light is quite different in this sample. In order to expose HP5+ at 3200 (a good ‘push’, if you will), I had to alter my setup a little. I was out of smaller apertures and lower light power settings, so the only option left was to move the light away from the pebbles. Hence the altered shadows.

As for the aesthetics of the film, it is, as I say, what we’d expect. Increased contrast and more prominent grain. But how well this film copes with three stops less light than box speed! Sure, the extremes of the tonal range are more dominant and there is a loss of subtlety over previous samples. I don’t know if it is me maturing and enjoying the sheer range of film aesthetics, but that grain looks very pleasing - assuming grain is what you want.

I have added this sample to the Pebble Project gallery, which you can find under 'resources' through the top menu. I still plan to continue with the core developer and film combinations, but this little exercise does open the way for some more ‘exotic’ samples in future.

New print sale upadate

Thanks to everyone who has purchased one of my Young Corn prints. I will be offering a 50% discount to celebrate the launch of this print for one more week from today. Please use code CORN50 at the checkout to take advantage of this offer. You can find this and my other prints here.

Visualising the big print (or, my continuing adventures in large format)

I have become increasingly aware of a little problem in my work on 5x4 of late, and it is, amongst other logistical issues that come with 5x4, a reason why my large format adventures have stalled somewhat. I’m still very much in the early stages of my work with the format, beginning to learn the craft, feeling my way, and asking myself how I will ultimately use it - assuming I continue in the longer term.

It is part of my photography philosophy that an outcome must be determined for a particular process. The ultimate form the image will take determines camera choice, development, digital processing or whatever. If this is a print - and it mostly is for me - the desired dimensions, paper choice, whether it is darkroom or digital, will clarify, and to some extent dictate, the workflow that leads to it. I see too many people who put the cart before the horse: they spend hours researching and pondering their ideal camera, and yet show little or no awareness of the kind of image they wish to make.

When one studies the results of one’s workflow, a cycle of reflection develops and information fed back to the shooting stage. This is a key ingredient in the craft of photography: the photographer is able to visualise the finished image even before the shutter is pressed. More practice with a given workflow leads to more technically refined images, which in turn leads to a more fluid expression of artistic ideas.

So onto my issue with 5x4. The nub of the matter is that I don’t have access to a 5x4 enlarger, and so can’t make a darkroom print. I have made contact prints of course, but this is not the goal for me (and I would wager for most people using 5x4, the negatives just make prints that are too small). 10x8 would be a different matter, but 5x4 wants to be enlarged. Why else are we shooting 5x4 if not to make big prints? There may be some residual and aesthetic properties flavouring the scanned image when looked at side by side with a digital counterpart, but it is hardly night and day. If I’m going to the trouble of shooting 5x4, I want night and day.

The image above shows a step towards solving this issue, albeit it entails a digital pathway rather than a silver one (which does inevitably make the unrealised darkroom print my elephant in the room, for now). I had the negative in question scanned by a lab to make an impressive 281 mb file. That is approximately 93 megapixels of information. I prefer to print my own images wherever possible, due to the control of the workflow I have already referred to. I would, however, out-source a large print providing I had been able to work on and study small sections first. 

Please forgive the somewhat crude use of two sheets of paper to make the image. They are simply placed side-by-side to make the larger print, and hence to get a sense of the scale of the image (you can see the join, and they are slightly out of register in the photo). I have included the contact print for scale. Now, I will leave aside the issue of what constitutes a ‘big’ print, because, as ever, such things are relative. For some practitioners the size shown here is hardly big at all. However, in my own practice, in the making of the kinds of fine print I enjoy, with the detail and tonality that I usually covet, this is a big print. To use a phrase that once had a pejorative slant, I want to be able to ‘sniff the print’. That is, I want the detail to hold together on close inspection. (Detail is a function not just of print size, but viewing distance too. The received wisdom is that prints need not be so detailed as they get bigger because the viewer will be further away, if the whole is to be seen. I want my viewer to be able to ‘step in’ and look at a section close up.)

You will see that the subtext here is that 5x4 does indeed provide a means of providing the kind of large print I envisage making (others will not be surprised, but, given my philosophy of seeing for myself, this is besides the point). Even in its somewhat improvised state - and I have only processed it to a limited extent too - it is an impressive thing. There is no sense of the tonality ‘running out’ that you sometimes see with 35mm enlarged too far. There is hardly any visible grain at all (the negative is Delta 100 developed in Perceptol). The central trees offer a clear structure to the ‘overall’ image, and yet, as a somewhat busy image, there are lots of little episodes and separate dioramas to enjoy.

A tiny section of the above print showing the effects of the multiple exposure. You can see the distinct movement of the branches in the central area.

The big print underlines some technical issues too. I remember being concerned about accurately timing the indicated exposure of two and a half seconds. I decided to make three separate exposures (thus leaning on my shutter’s accuracy), but had underestimated the effects of what I thought to be a gentle wind. You can clearly see where branches and leaves have moved between exposures. Hardly discernable in the contact print, but clearly evident in the enlargement. This is a great example of information that will now be fed back into the earlier stages of my process. I hope it clarifies what I said above and that the reader can see why I wish to be looking at the proposed product (print) in the way I do. I now know what my materials and equipment will do in a given situation should I want to make this type of print again.

This somewhat improvised print may well then prove to be something of a quiet milestone in my work with 5x4. Happily, there is work to be done, but this is an essential technical step to formulating what will ultimately be my artistic response. My adventures in 5x4 continue, if a little slower than I had originally envisaged.
 

New print for sale - limited 50% discount

Last week I shared my Young Corn piece, shot on Ilford's HP5+ film. I have now added this as a print in my shop (please click on the 'prints' link above).

Two sizes are available, one on A4 paper and one on A3. Both have a border to allow for mounting (matting) and framing (the image of the actual print above helps to show this). I have chosen Canson's beautiful Baryta Photographique paper, an inkjet paper that gives the feel of a traditional fibre based print. I especially enjoy the rich and deep blacks that this paper has to offer, which I think suits the image, and it also produces an excellent tonal range. I wanted to reproduce the tonal rapport that HP5+ gives with this kind of subject and light. As is my customary practice, they will be signed in pencil on the rear and will come with a certificate of authenticity

In order to celebrate the launch of the print sale, I am offering my readers an impressive 50% discount for a limited time. Simply use the code CORN50 at the checkout (it will work on either size). Depending on the demand, I may close the offer relatively quickly so please don't delay if you are tempted. Shipping is free in the UK and there is a modest charge for the rest of the world. You are responsible for any taxes that your country imposes.

Please don't hesitate to get in touch if you have any questions about the print and / or offer.

Young corn in HP5+

Ilford HP5+ developed in LC29 1+19 6.5 mins 20c

On buying gear: enjoyment not evolution

A great deal of ink has been spent in the photographic press on the question of the superiority of digital photography over film and the former’s inexorable rise to prominence in the industry. Fear not, for this is not yet another film vs digital tract; I think my own position of a ‘either or both, as you desire’ is a subtext of my blog, if not something I have broached on occasion.
 
I think a better question, in this golden age of availability of photographic equipment and consumer choice, is ‘what aspects of your photography do you enjoy?’ Then there is a related question: how might an answer help you shape your engagement and buying choices?
 
I am enamoured with small format cameras that have the potential to make big prints. My Sony A7II fits this bill very well, and there are other Sonys that fit the bill even better (I have in mind the A7 ‘R’s and their iterations, and naturally we could add other makes and models). I like to walk around with a piece of technology with this capability in my hand. The digital viewfinder has the ability to aid rigorous focussing and this is an integral part of large-print making. 
 
Yet I am aware that the experience of using the Sony A7 viewfinder leaves me a little cold. For this part of my photography I look to my Leica M6TTL and mostly black and white film. An uncluttered viewfinder in combination with the most simple operation brings me closer to my subject and lets me focus on the moment. The thought of the exposure being laid on film, together with my understanding of how to process and print my images - in short, my visualisation - is integral to my existential photographic pleasure. (Lest my struggle for the right words imply an otherworldly dimension to this, I think this is a largely technical and mechanical effect - belonging to the medium.) Do my Leica negatives compete with my Sony A7 for large prints? Of course not, nor do I expect them too. The point is that the Leica brings a quite different dimension to my practice.
 
When I analyse my choices in the acquisition of equipment, I realise that I have made some very conscious decisions regarding what I enjoy, and moreover that I live with the compromises of my chosen media because I see them as integral parts of it. Living with limitations makes you work with them, and before too long you begin to enjoy them too. Critical photographers will ask not just what they need, but whether what they have is still right for them. For me, simply possessing it means that it must continue to be chosen - or be replaced by something else that gets me closer to this photographic enjoyment.
 
So look not on your equipment as a marker in an evolutionary scale of advancement (the old digital bettering film), its increasing age signalling a need for replacement, but as an indication of your photographic enjoyment. ‘Upgrade’ if you must, not to abstractly improve your equipment, but to better serve your personal and idiosyncratic needs.
 

Not all darkroom papers are the same

A fine product from Ilford and a mainstay of many darkrooms in this country is Multigrade IV Resin Coated paper. It’s the paper I use most with my students and it comfortably facilitates a novice’s first steps towards a satisfying print.
 
Not all darkroom papers are equal however, and if you have begun your darkroom journey with a paper such as this, you may wish to consider trying a warmtone paper too. For me, warmtone is my paper of choice, and you will often come across advice to make the switch to it on grounds of an improvement in quality.
 
Now, I’m not sure it is objectively ‘better’, nor do I quite agree with the advice I sometimes see that it will give you a ‘better’ tonal range (as if merely making the switch is enough to ensure printing contentment).
 
What it does give you is a different distribution of tones at different grades, and, with the right negative, this may well result in a more satisfying and expansive tonal range. I know it does for me in the vast majority of cases.
 
Multigrade IV has a very long reach into the highlights at middle grades, while it is somewhat lacking in local contrast in the midtones. If your negative has a lot of midtones, this can result in a muddy and disappointing rendering. Multigrade IV Warmtone on the other hand, has much more ‘punch’ and tonal separation in the midtones, albeit at the expensive of the highlight scale. It gravitates towards a crisp white in the highlights quicker than its cousin, and this may not be an issue in the case of the midtone dominated scene. As is so often the case in photography, this is a question of compromise, or more accurately, of the right compromise for your particular equipment and visualisation.

A recent print I made using the warmtone paper in question

It is good darkroom practice to know the tonal characteristics of your paper and to match them to your negative. In reality one paper may very well suffice for the majority of your printing, but if you haven’t tried any alternatives, how do you know? It may be time to try the warmtone option, and to see how it works with your negatives and vision.

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The power of mounting and framing

Photography is a medium with a frame implicitly built-in. The edges of the image isolate a section of reality, and the frame exerts a constant, if unseen, force on our interpretations. Not all images are the same shape, and different formats bring different shapes and image edge ratios.
 
Hold a small print in your hand and it can quickly disappear into its surroundings. This holds especially for the print with little or no border: with no protective visual buffer, the surroundings come rushing in and the print lost to anonymity.
 
Give the print some room, some visual, protective space and everything changes. Suddenly the image is contained and exerts its own reality. Our eyes are held much more effectively within the images’ borders and the photographic illusion - that we are looking through a window on the world, or more strongly, that we are occupying that world - holds sway.
 
This is a matter of aesthetics too. The visual attractiveness of a piece can be given a huge boost when it is placed in a mount (and arguably more again in a frame). I order my mounts online and have them cut to exact dimensions to suit the image. I carefully match the mount colour - and remember different whites have very different ‘colours’ - to the paper colour. A good mount is somehow not noticeable in itself, but surely is in its aesthetic impact.
 
The only way to appreciate this is to try it. Take an unmounted finished print and treat it to a well-cut mount. Observe what happens: put it on a table, step away from it. Take things further and find a discrete, proportionally matching frame. Try it on the wall. Step away. Return to it. It is my wager you’ll love the image more.
 

Photography advertising, the invisible influence

The other day I came across a reproduction of a Leica advert from the late 1990s. They were advertising the then latest incarnation of the famous Leica rangefinder, the M6 TTL. As you might expect, the advert is aspirational and contains a carefully crafted studio shot of the camera.
 
The advert got me thinking about photography advertising, and more specifically its influence on me. We live in a world of sublimated desires driven by consumer advertising. We might not always reflect consciously on the effects of advertising, but they are measurable and real, as the gargantuan advertising budgets of the multi-national corporations attest.
 
What if my regard for my Leica M6 TTL was a product, albeit an indirect one, of this advert from the late 1990s? I don’t think I remember it specifically, and yet it has something of an uncanny familiarity. I had a little chuckle to myself, rolling this possibility around in my head. It may not be the whole story - I should hope not, a big chunk of my practice nought but the fulfilment of a market instruction - but there is a strong possibility that my desires were at some level shaped by the adverts of the time. It is sometimes said that we acquire in later life the cameras we once lusted after in our youth and when money was too short to make the dream a reality.
 
I wonder what other photography advertising has helped to shape my choices and paths through equipment and practice? I wonder which ones have shaped yours?
 

Manfrotto 055CXPRO3 carbon fibre tripod review

24 years of refinements

I can’t be exact, but I believe I bought my Manfrotto 055 series aluminium tripod in 1993. It has served me flawlessly until this day and is still in fine working order. My recent foray into large format photography has, however, prompted me to look critically on its weight. I have no complaints about all other aspects of its performance, but there is no escaping that it is a heavy beast. Heavy tripods and field cameras are not happy bedfellows.

My trusty Manfrotto aluminium 055C tripod.

So it was that I determined to purchase the latest version of the 055 that Manfrotto had to offer (specifically a 055CXPRO3). This is a tripod that sits somewhere in the middle range of the market, not Gitzo price territory, nor, at around £300 at the time of writing, a budget model (and that price is for legs only; you buy the head separately). It seemed a logical thing to do, especially as my original tripod had served me so well, and the 055 is still marketed as a professional tripod designed to carry relatively heavy loads (up to 9kg - safely - according to the specifications). Even more significantly perhaps, the 055 today comes in a carbon fibre option, thus I could make use of the weight advantages of this modern material.
 
I don’t like twist lock legs, and much prefer the lever type. My original aluminium 055 possesses these, and I wanted to continue to use them in my replacement unit. Levers are easy to open and there is a visual check on whether the legs are locked in or not. Manfrotto have refined the design of these levers over the years and the newer model is easy to open. They are not exaggerating when they say that you can open all the sections of a leg together with one hand. One quirk of the design is that the most open part of the lever is actually the rear. It took me a little time to learn to grab the ‘closed’ side first, and to ignore the more visually inviting rear.

The levers, or, 'quick power locks' as Manfrotto calls them, on the 055CXPRO3.

The tripod is impressively stable, even at full height with the central column extended. It stands 140cm tall, central column in the down position. This suits my height well (I’m about 5’11”), and I can comfortably work at standing height and view the ground glass of my 5x4 camera without bending or stooping (it’s worth bearing in mind that a head adds height, especially if you are looking through reviews and specifications online). I understand that carbon fibre has excellent dampening qualities and it is clear that knocks to the tripod quickly dissipate (there is more of a ‘ring’ to aluminium in comparison). As this is a mini review, a ‘first look’ really, I have done no exacting testing to confirm this stability. However, I can confirm that a 5x4 negative made using the tripod has the sharpness that I would expect from a good support.
 
There are two particular features that interest me less on this incarnation of the 055. The first is that you can easily switch the central column to a horizontal position, the second is a socket for attachments such as led light panels or small diffusers. Both features would be excellent for macro photographers I’m sure, and may yet prove useful to me. The socket intrigues me the most of the two, and is something I will investigate further. I have a sense that Manfrotto is giving its users some design innovations without compromising basic features and performance.

Close-up showing the adjustable spirit level (you can turn in around, so as not to clash with the head position), and the accessory attachment complete with rubber 'plug'.

So finally I come to my main reason for buying this tripod, namely its weight advantage. This isn’t a travel tripod, and it hardly shouts ‘portable’ when you first pick it up. Indeed, when it first came out of the box I did wonder if there was any real advantage over my trusty aluminium version. I think there is a certain psychology to its size and robustness that makes you think it is heavier than it is. We need to bear in mind that this is a light sturdy tripod, rather than a light travel one - a whole different proposition.
 
Side-by-side next to my old model the weight difference is clear. The old 055 weighs approximately 3kg, and the new one 2kg (both figures without a head attached). Numbers are all very well, but the true test comes in the field. I have really enjoyed using the new 055. You still know you are carrying something (as one would expect with a tripod for 5x4); but the significant if not fundamental weight difference, together with very slick and efficient controls, makes it a pleasure to use. In point of fact, I began to wonder if the ease of operation, even over my still very effective old model, wasn’t the most significant improvement of the newer model. It is light, yes, but it is also effortless to set up and put down. A slender difference, that, in the world of 5x4, makes a difference.
 
I am happy that I ungraded. A more prolonged test will come as I use it over a longer period, but for now the 055CXPRO3 Carbon Fibre Tripod is looking like a sound investment. 
 

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