hong-an tran

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It may seem like nothing.
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How bad could it possibly be?, you ask yourself.  Surely …
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Um, yeah.  Take it from me:
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Seal up your finished 120 rolls nice and tight.  Really tight.  Otherwise, you’ll have some high falutin Photo-Realism-meets-Light-Leakism on your hands.
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Look.  I’ve never been good about navigating, in a fair and nuanced way, my love for the Leica and the Hasselblad; I mean, crikey, they have names — Eleanor and Dashiell — while my Nikon and Pentax languish in limbo, waiting for great monikers to be bestowed on them.  I am a terrible photographer mom.  But perhaps, at the very least, I’m not so bad as everyone else’s disdain for Lady Edith?

That said, I *love* these two photographs. They are my favorites of the Pittsburgh trip, even though they weren’t taken in Pittsburgh proper (Butler, actually).  And that they came after a spell of wondering how to combine my Hasselblad and black & white film, and often coming up with duds, I am beyond pleased.   (Yay Kodak Tri-X Pan 400!)

If these somehow allowed Lady Edith all the happiness in the world, I would be so very pleased.  In the meanwhile, I hope you enjoy these.
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The day after my birthday, Dan and I decided to drive out to Butler, a town about 35 miles north of Pittsburgh that was once an important stop along the coal/steel industry route.  The day was perfectly overcast — good for photos! — and after we busted our guts at the Monroe Hotel for lunch, we parked the car and wandered around with the cameras.  Or rather, I wandered around, while Dan walked a few paces behind, amused at my excitement.

Afterwards, on the drive back into Pittsburgh, Dan took us on a detour to see some towns along the Ohio River.  We headed north towards New Brighton, a wee place along the Beaver River (a tributary of the Ohio) with a wide, gorgeous main street, full of two- and three-story brick storefronts.  The sun was just about to set at this point, so I took the last few shots I could with 100-speed film, and then we headed home, with the Ravens-Broncos game playing quietly on the car radio.  A great afternoon, and — if I do say so myself — with some pretty nice photographs to show for it.

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And of course, a ruin for the ruinista:

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One of the things I was first astonished by, and have come to love, about Pittsburgh, is the sheer hodgepodge of architectural styles, of odd corners and textures all converging not only in a single neighborhood, but sometimes also even a single house. Around the corner from my friend and host Dan’s apartment is a wee street — there are many, many wee streets in his Bloomfield neighborhood — that showcases this wonderfully crazy combination.  I poked around with Dashiell one morning and one afternoon to take it all in.
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