Today is the First Time I Have Ever Seen This Problem With Wet Plate Collodion

Today, I was in the darkroom studio working on a new plate for my Pictorial Whispers memorial project.

In anticipation of making the new collodion images on black aluminum plates, I mixed up a fresh batch of collodion emulsion two days ago. I always like to allow a new collodion to age at least two days before making plates. Technically, I don’t have to wait that long, but I like to allow the iodides to start their decomposition process, and the collodion will transition from the original straw color to a light orange.

Since I was working with a fresh batch of collodion, I always like to run a test plate first to make sure my Speedotron strobes and chemistry are working together harmoniously. With my Dallmeyer 3B lens, I typically need 4 pops of the 4800 w/s strobes for a perfect exposure. I am already in red safelight mode because of pulling the plate from the silver box and loading it into the plate holder, so I simply walk over to my camera, load the holder, remove the lens cap and pop the strobes four times to complete the exposure.

Today was no exception, four pops with the Speedotron strobes at 4800 w/s produced a really nice plate.

But when I dried the plate over my open-flame alcohol lamp and then varnished it, a strange black line magically appeared on the plate.

I was puzzled, and since the plate was ruined, I made another one and proceeded to dry and varnish the new plate, only for another random black line to appear in a totally different area on the new plate.

At this point, I was really scratching my head, so I went outside for a walk and thought about this very strange problem.

I was out walking for about 45 minutes taking in the fresh spring air and the nice cool temperature replaying everything that happened.

It came out of nowhere, and I realized what the problem must be. So, I returned to the darkroom studio and made another new plate.

I dried and varnished the new plate and applied what I believed to be the correction and it worked!!

I have never seen this problem in the many years I have worked with wet plate collodion processes.

The problem was a user error in my varnishing technique. I have no idea why I was varnishing a little bit differently today, but for whatever reason, I was the issue.

When I varnish, I pour a puddle of varnish in the middle of the plate, just like I do collodion, and then work it to each of the four corners of the plate and then drain it.

The problem occurred when I poured the puddle in the middle of the plate; I was holding the plate dead still, and the edge of the puddle line is where the black mark occurred. On the new plate, I made sure that there was a little movement as I poured the varnish and worked the four corners. That very minor adjustment resolved the issue.

In my old age, my hand is getting steadier versus shakier! See, I do have something to be thankful for.

This was such an odd issue, I thought I should share the error and resolution in hopes that it will help another wet plate collodion photographer.

Pictorial Whispers – More Than Art

Each handmade print in the Pictorial Whispers series is a captured echo of love and sorrow, where trees stand as poignant testaments to the memory of my beloved daughter, affectionately known as Peanut.

Through the ethereal embrace of Pictorialism, these stoic beings are transformed into guardians of her legacy, their roots entwined with the depths of my emotions.

This work transcends the realm of visual art; it is a sacred process, a conduit through which I navigate the labyrinth of heartache.

Embracing the 1850s negative process of collodion glass plates, with its inherent imperfections and richness, I have found a profound connection to Abby. The physicality of this medium, with its labor-intensive demands and unique aesthetic, mirrors the intricate complexities of my emotional state.

The complex and constantly evolving chemistry process and the handmade aspect of the workflow all contribute to a deeply personal and expressive narrative. Each image I compose is a stanza of an ongoing dialogue with absence and memory, where the chemical nature of the collodion process adds an almost otherworldly character to the images, blurring the lines between sharp reality and the soft edges of remembrance.

In my handmade photographs, trees are more than mere subjects; they are characters imbued with human emotions, standing as silent witnesses to the internal storm of my grief. They echo my solitude, resonate with my sadness, and yet stand resilient, a reflection of the strength I muster each day.

The dance of light and shadow amidst these arboreal forms is akin to my brushstrokes on this canvas of loss. This interplay becomes my visual language, a means to articulate the indescribable path of mourning and eventual healing. In creating my handmade wet plate collodion negatives and platinum-toned Kallitype contact prints, I find a semblance of peace, a fleeting respite from the relentless grip of emotional pain.

My artistic quest with Pictorial Whispers is to forge an enduring, mystical, and deeply personal collection. In this pursuit, I maintain a profound spiritual bond with Abby, channeling the flux of my emotions—grief, gratitude, and love—into the stillness of the natural world.

Each handmade print is a physical manifestation of my experiences, a testament to the enduring impact of Abby’s presence in my life. Through this process, I hope to offer a visual homage to her memory, crafting expressive artwork that are as singular and special as the moments we shared. Abby’s spirit, her joy, and the name Peanut are forever intertwined with the essence of the trees that I photograph. They are my silent and steadfast companions on a path through the unknown terrain of heartache and recovery.