" * mile! " - Part 1

With a "*mile!" and an audible click, my youngest grand-daughter Emma, holding her mother's mobile phone and pointing at me, took a shot at me. At 20 months old and still having problems pronouncing the letter 'S', Emma imitating the clicking sound of a shutter, already knows what to do with a mobile phone camera.

Photography has been a fascination with me for a long time. During the Japanese occupation, my father, who had been a keen photographer himself, supplemented the family's income by printing and developing pictures for people. We lived in a simple three bedroom terrace house, in which my father converted one of the bedrooms, into a darkroom. Sealed with cartridge paper all round the windows and doors to prevent light from entering, the room was hot and humid. This was turned into the boys bedroom and my brothers and I took turns sleeping inside amidst the stench of body odour and the ever present farts! Boys will be boys and farts go together with pillow fights sometimes ending into fist fights.

My father had taught me how to develop black & white films and to mix the chemicals. I remember the Kodak D76 solution too well for developing films. The hardest part was the threading of the film into the developing canister. It had to be done in total darkness as any light would ruin the film. The film had to be slowly pushed into an open steel reel without any part of the film touching each other. After that, the entire reel was placed inside the canister and the cover screwed on. The canister was made of either black plastic or steel. The chemical was then poured into the canister through a small opening on the top cover. The whole process went through a series of timing, washing and fixing. All done in total darkness, which necessitated the sense of touch and reaching for the correct chemical and the various components close by. There were two basic types of film - the bigger format 120 roll film and the 35mm film cartridge.

By the time the film was developed, it was then alright to switch on the lights and to open the door. Dripping in perspiration, the dark room was turned into an unbearable sonar and it was a great relief when the door was finally opened. Running out for fresh air, I was soaking wet in perspiration.

The printing of pictures was a different process. The dark room still had to be closed but a red light was permissible. The picture was selected, using the enlarger, which projected the picture on to the photographic paper, with precise timing. The paper then had to be taken to a corner of the room, where the sink was, and placed inside a porcelain tray loaded with chemical. Rocking the tray gently, the picture slowly emerged, and checking with the red light only, the tone of the picture was determined and the print finally placed into the hypo bath to permanently fix the picture. And so on with the other pictures, until all the required pictures were printed. Before switching on any other bright lights, all photographic papers had to be properly secured in dark boxes to avoid any light which would ruin them. The chemical had a habit of staining the finger nails brown, especially the thumb nail. This gave the impression of smoking cigarettes, which brought a lot of frowns from unknowing adults!

My proficiency level improved to the extend that my father would toss me a roll of film asking me to get it developed. I was to suffer my most embarrassing and devastating humility, when one day, my friend asked me to develop a roll of film for him. Getting to work immediately, I discovered that I had ran out of the chemicals. So I had to mix a new batch. The mixing required lukewarm water in order to dissolve the crystal chemical. Armed with a big bell jar of the chemical later, I decided to press on with the developing. At the end of the developing, I finally pulled out the roll of negatives to check on the result. Lo and behold, a completely blank roll of negative stared back at me! Not a picture! My face and jaw dropped. Stunned, I could not believe my eyes. What happened? Sheepishly, I showed the blank roll to my friend, who was astounded. I thought he had shot the pictures with his lens cap on. But no, it was not to be. Fortunately, my friend was not angry and we managed to laugh over it. That evening, I asked my father what was the problem. He asked me if I had just mixed the chemical. I confirmed it and he told me that the warm solution melted the film emulsion which then rendered the entire film blank. I was to have let the chemical cool down first before use. A bitter lesson.

My first camera was a Kodak box camera. As the name implied, it was a black plastic box modelled after the pinhole camera. With a simple lens over the pinhole, it held a roll of 120 film. I had a lot of fun with it but did not shoot many pictures as I could not afford the film. Felt guilty pinching film from my father. I spent many weekends with my father and brother going out shooting with my father's Rollieflex camera. Later, we experimented with colour film and I remember standing outside the dark room with my watch and shouting out the timing to my father inside. We did not have a stop watch.

We progressed much later to the cine camera. My father had a 16 mm Revere cine camera. Before that we had tried shooting with a 8 mm camera. As sound recording on film was a rather complicated and expensive affair, we shot silent movies. One day, armed with two 16 mm cine cameras, we filmed the Malayan Amateur Athletic Association Meet in Ipoh. We earned recognition for our effort, when our film was sent to Kuala Lumpur for viewing by the British High Commissioner, Malcolm MacDonald. On another occasion, we filmed a wedding of a family friend. It was then a very special novelty.

When I started flying in the fifties, we progressed to aerial photography. The Perak Flying Club had a contract for mapping over certain parts of the State. I piloted a Tiger Moth with my father manning the huge camera inside. When I very much later joined the Air Force, I was involved with aerial reconnaissance and surveillance.

Continue - Part 2.

Till then....