It all began with making the exposures in January of 2017  

 (to read about the series and the films, check the other entries)

I made my last exposure for the series in Hedley, Texas off Highway 287 on April 2, 2017

Just two months later I was exhibiting prints from the series in Fort Worth, and a month after that in Austin

Following some trips to Los Angeles later that summer, I started working on the layout of the book back home in Texas, which took about five or so weeks 

Once the image flow was there, my friend and fellow photographer Steve Reeves and I began the arduous process of proof printing, for which we used his Epson 9900 pigment inkjet printer 

Getting everything right for book presentation took us about four weeks 

The proof prints are what we used to compare the offset prints to. They are the ‘guide,’ and so to get everything right was important 

When the book page sheets come off the press (Komori offset press), they are placed on a slanted table and visible by daylight-balanced overhead lights  

It is there that we do our side-by-side comparisons; the book pages against our proof prints  

Any corrections happen there, with the pressman making whatever necessary adjustments for better correlation between any given print and its proof

A new run would then be made and we’d compare again 

Until it fit

I’d ‘ok’ the sheet and we’d wait for the pages to be printed and the next section of the book to be prepped for printing (about an hour downtime)  

Printing took about a week-and-a-half, and I was present for every last sheet 

We finished printing February 10

The pages were then transported from the printing plant in Dallas to the bindery in San Antonio where they are currently being prepped for binding

The first edition of the book is made up of 2000 copies: 200 hardcover with slipcase and companion 8 x 10 print (sold out), and 1800 softcover (available next month) 

The meat of the two books is identical, with only the covers being different  

The book is 12 x 10, 180 pages, and 111 photographs, selected from the nearly 300 I made over the course of my twenty-five days roaming Texas  

From the beginning of dreaming up Film Photographic (@filmphotographic) as being some platform or another for film photography/photographers, I knew I’d eventually start publishing under the FP name. Thrilled it’s now happening. Many more books to come, and featuring a variety of photographers 

It was important that this book be made in the U.S., and Texas specifically. With so many photography and art books being outsourced, my plan is to keep all FP book production in the States  

It’s been a busy run, this project, and a year in the making. And a lot learned and digested on the book end of things 

Thank you for your patience (we’d said the hardcover copies would start shipping end of February but we’re delayed a few weeks) 

As soon as the books are delivered to us, I’ll sign and number the hardcover copies and get them shipped out, and make the softcover copies available for purchase 

In the meantime, heading to San Antonio to oversee the binding process  

More updates to come, and thank you for the support ... 

(photo by Daniel Driensky)  







Jason LeeComment
A PLAIN VIEW, the book

I made the photographs over the course of four road trips around Texas (south, north, west) between January and April of 2017 with expired Kodak 4x5 color films and a Graflex Speed Graphic view camera.

While rural America as a general landscape and concept is where I find myself most inspired, I’m drawn in particular to California, the southwest, and the plains. I’ve made a lot of photographs in California and the southwest over the years but fewer in Texas. And mostly with black-and-white films. Now living here, I had a strong desire to explore the state more extensively. And in color. 

I covered about 5000 miles and exposed close to 300 sheets of film, 111 of which I used for the book.

I’d seen the early color photographs of Joel Sternfeld and was inspired especially by those of William Christenberry before I started making my own American photographs, first in 2006 from the highways and backroads of California with black-and-white and color 8x10 Polaroid films, but if there’s anything I owe credit to visually for this particular series, it’s color cinematography, and from the likes of Robby Müller, with Paris, Texas, Vilmos Zsigmond, with The Deer Hunter, and Néstor Almendros, with Days of Heaven, to name a few. The photography for Terrence Malick’s Badlands has equally been a big draw for me.

My aim with this series wasn’t to present “color photography” in the categorical sense as much as it was to create photographs that perhaps feel like pieces of films, from that particular brand and era of cinema.

In general, I’m not interested in photographic categories and labels as I am in making photographs, for the joy of it, and the fulfillment of curiosity. 

I’d seen Wim Wender’s Paris, Texas in the early 1990s, and even back then, before I’d ever picked up a camera, it felt like a moving collection of photographs of a landscape that had me riveted from the film’s opening sequences. That stuck with me. As did its color palette. Visually, it’s a stunning film. Emotionally, perhaps even more so. And David Byrne’s brilliant Texas-based True Stories, while a much lighter film, has had its own impact on me. Another visually inspiring piece, photographed by Ed Lachman.

When I thought about doing a color series in Texas, these are the things that came to mind.

And much of the landscape lent itself very naturally to this. An extraordinary number of scenes I encountered that appeared to be on pause from some bygone era or another. And more often than not, no one around. A kind of surreal stillness I’d never witnessed in quite this way. And many of its small-town centers appearing as movie sets; like stretches of street scene facades on the backlot of some movie studio. But real, and rich, and full of history. And locations and moments and colors throughout my journey that paralleled the worlds of those wonderful films and their collective palette. And that I perhaps paid a new kind of attention to because of these visual and tonal and emotional references. And because of now working in color and conscious of the film’s translation of the various environmental tones and shades.

And scenes like the old white Dodge truck in the alley; the truck appearing to have been placed there at just the right angle, and in just the right setting, and with just the right lighting, as if from a film. Or for a film. I see scenes like these and can’t help but feel transplanted, and as though they’ve been created for me, or someone else with a camera. It’s a unique feeling of exhilaration to happen upon scenes like these. And with that beautiful dusk lighting.

All things very fitting to these cinematic references, in both theory and reality. But it was the use of the expired films and my 1941 uncoated Kodak Ektar 127mm lens that would complete the vision.

In color, and for the purpose of inhabiting a different space with this series, and of favorably documenting these subjects, which, in many cases, are as faded and color-shifted as the old films themselves, this landscape demands being photographed a certain way; anything too accurate, too clean, would draw many of these subjects unnaturally away from the contexts in which they seem to so comfortably exist. There is a timelessness and fragility to much of this landscape, and so film too new would be asking too much of it. As would a high-end, coated modern lens.

With color photographs in general, I’m not interested in vibrant colors and sharp contrast, but rather in a more temperate palette. And the combination of the expired films and the old lens allowed for that, and for something more unique to anything I’ve ever made in color.

But tonal and visual references aside, the landscape remains my primary focus.

The strangeness and beauty of this inconsistent America, full of variety and color and character, prosperity and degradation. Conflicts between man and nature, old and new, past and future. Things are ticking along, doing what they do, and to be an observer to it all, and to give notice to it, this is what motivates me.

The emptiness and the quiet of these scenes, this landscape. The desolation. The openness. The random, odd portions. Environmental contrasts and contradictions. Things left behind, neglected, forgotten. And these shards of a past culture that somehow continue to hold firm. And how they reflect the environments around them. And their similarities and differences, one town to the next. And one state to the next. 

I often wonder if those living in these towns, at the center of these places, view these scenes with a similar sentiment, or as anything other than just an ordinary slice of life, seen only in neglectful periphery. And what they mean to them, if anything at all.

They mean something to me. And they intrigue and inspire me. And act not only as reminders of how things once were, but how things still are, on the other side of everywhere else. They are the necessary balancers in this plastic, homogenized modern world of ours.

Photography allows us to view things differently, and to place value in these ordinary, everyday scenes. 

And documenting them gives them notice, and validity. And I enjoy documenting them, very much.

Not for the sake of being a photographer in the artistic sense, or trying to capture things in a certain way so as to adhere to or fit into some photographic category or another; I just simply enjoy making photographs. And being on the road, exploring.

Long hauls for this book. Some days having exposed only a few sheets, other days a couple dozen. Rolling into some town or another after midnight, tired, hungry. And despite needing a motel room, and food (mostly gas station scraps at that time of night), you can’t help but keep looking. It’s hard to shut it off; sleep and hunger wait as you get that second wind when you land somewhere new, having seen the town lights in the distance from the highway - “What will I find here?” You make your way up and down the streets, searching. Dead quiet, car creeping along at 5 mph, hoping for a last good exposure to end the day with. You make one, maybe two, find a motel, bring all the gear into the room, make journal notes of the day’s events, count how many sheets of film you have left, all while eating the chips you bought at the gas station down the street. Wake, find a proper meal, plan the new route, keep moving.

It's a wonderful feeling being out there, a part of it, and open to the environments around us. In the words of photographer Henry Wessel: “The process of photographing is a pleasure, eyes open, receptive, sensing, and at some point, connecting. It's thrilling to be outside your mind, your eyes far ahead of your thoughts.”

Jason LeeComment

For the photograph above, I used the incident bulb on my Sekonic L-508 Zoom meter

With the meter facing the camera, I took my reading in the shade, about 20 or so feet in front of the camera - being that it was darker at the camera, it was necessary to step away from it a bit and edge a little closer to the shadow line, where it was a bit brighter 

Had I exposed for the light beyond the shadow, I would have lost the detail in and around the bus, and in the foreground  

But knowing that color negative film holds a substantial amount of information on the highlights side, more so than on the lowlights or shadows side, I knew I’d have those areas easily protected 

For my night photographs from the series, which can be seen on this site under A PLAIN VIEW at PHOTOGRAPHS, I used the spot or reflective meter on the Sekonic

This allows me to meter from the camera, which is often very objective to the scene  

I take various readings around the various light sources close to the central area of the subject

I also take readings away from that central area to see how far off the non or less-lit areas are from the light sources 

There’s usually a kind of averaging that occurs  

If I’m getting a couple of f/11 readings, and some f/5.6 readings, I’ll expose the scene at f/8, which happened to be a bit of a common f-stop for quite a few of the night photos. f/11 would be fine, but it’s all about creating that balance between highs and lows, circumstance and scene to circumstance and scene 

I’m also going to of course get f/1.4 and such readings, and EU (‘Exposure Under’), as well, which means losing some shadow detail

But that’s fine, as in scenes like the one below, our focus is on the thing itself, where the lights are. But to overexpose the film in the name of preserving shadow detail that may not even matter, and subsequently be left with blown-out lights and the surrounding reflecting surface areas, wouldn’t be good 

You want to pay more attention to those higher f/stop readings to protect the light sources and highlights  

The shutter speed for most of these night scenes would end up falling somewhere around 15 seconds  

Needless to say, a tripod is necessary for such photos  

With day photos, especially when the sun is above, I find it necessary to keep the incident bulb inside its housing, or to cover the top of it when it’s extended, as I’m usually only interested in the light that’s in front of the subject and not above it 

If my bulb were extended at a noon-day scene, for example, versus covering it, I’d have a much richer reading. And if I followed that reading, I’d be in jeaopadry of losing shadow detail, which, again, isn’t as protectable as highlight detail is  

Metering is really important, and can be played with in a variety of ways - even slight movements with the meter up or down, side to side, can make a noticeable difference in f-stop readings 

It’s all in how you want to expose the scene, coupled with how you’re rating your film and what kind of look and feel you’re going for  

A fun and necessary process for having greater control over your exposures  

However, handheld meters while using cameras with built-in meters aren’t necessary, but it’s still interesting to bring an external light meter along and see what kinds of differences you can find with both. Experimenting is always fun, and can be really informative 

For handheld meters, I love my 508

Really nice meter ...   

Jason Lee Comments
The Texas series films

For the 4x5 Texas series, I chose expired color films because I knew they’d fulfill the cinematic and tonal references I’d had in mind, especially through the old glass of my Kodak Ektar lens

Having used b&w films on most of my prior road explorations, and never wishing I’d done otherwise, when I set out to document the Texas landscape all I could see was color 

It’s not that Texas is more colorful than the other Southwest states I love and have explored over the years, but I couldn’t escape seeing this book filled with color photographs 

Not ‘true color,’ however, but a kind of color that would both match my references and do justice to the subjects, which, in many cases, are as faded and color-shifted as the old films themselves 

In color, this landscape demands being photographed a certain way; anything too accurate would draw many of these subjects unnaturally away from the contexts in which they seem to so comfortably exist. There is a timelessness and fragility to much of this landscape, and so film too new would be asking too much of it

And for what I’d had in mind, the tonal quality of the photographs needed to have a paleness, a softness, a mutedness - all things that contribute to the distancing of our stance in relation to the subject necessary to give this series and its scenes something perhaps even quieter than anything I’ve ever produced photographically, which it seemed to demand  

The expiration dates of the films ranged from 1992 to 2009 and consisted of both negative and positive types - all Kodak, Readyload and sheet 

While some of the old positive films didn’t hold up as well (especially when poorly stored, expired positive films tend to shift heavy magenta), I was extremely happy with the negative films I chose 

The photograph above was made in Valentine, Texas with 17-year-expired Vericolor III. Amazing film 

If you can imagine for a moment this photograph having been made with fresh slide film, for example, and through a new, beautifully coated lens. It wouldn’t work. Or at least not in the same way; a different story is then being told. And one that I wasn’t and am not interested in telling 

And digital image capture is simply out of the question  - without the use of any kind of filtering and heavy post-production, which digital images require to get any kind of feel from them, you’d be faced with something thin and cold and lifeless 

When using expired color films, which I of course recommend if you’re looking for similar results to what I’ve described here, they should be given good overexposure. This also contributes to a smoother and flatter photograph, which I prefer and required here 

However, there can be grain increase with some expired films - this was noticeable with the Pro 100 (especillay in the Paris, Texas photos from the series). But at the same time, the Pro 100 had some pretty incredible color shifts (toward yellow) that I absolutely love  

All of the various variances and factors played very well to the overall feel of the series  

The Portra 160vc was probably ‘truer to life,’ but, still, due to the bit of overexposure I treated it with, and with the old Ektar lens, I was able to match it nicely with the other photographs in the batch 

While there are differences in quality between some of the photographs in the series, each film did its share to contribute to what very much feels like a consistent and uniform tone and, more importantly, feel 

Very pleased with the photographs  

Was a long haul - 25 days on the road, 5000 Miles, 297 exposures 

Trial and error, mistakes and triumphs  

The old Graflex Speed Graphic held up well, as did the lens (a highly recommended 4x5 camera, should you be interested in that format) 

Editing for the book is moving along nicely (Feb 2018)

Feel free to ask any questions about the film and so on. There’s a lot of the old stuff out there, and it’s certainly fun to experiment with 

And if you visit A PLAIN VIEW under SHOP, a few of the film types I used are listed 

Jason Lee Comments
Square format, and the Mamiya c330

The first time I’d seen square format (6x6 on 120 film) that caught my eye was in THE NEW WEST, Robert Adams’ fantastic book from 1974 that features b&w photographs of a developing western landscape (highly recommended)

Quite a few years back, I purchased a Mamiya c330 Twin Lens Reflex camera as you do when experimenting and adding bits and pieces to your collection of tools 

What I love about the c330, in relation to other square format cameras, is the bellows focusing, interchangeable lenses, and that a prism finder can be fitted to the top in place of waist-level composing / focusing 

And they can be purchased for cheap 

And the lenses are great  

I went on to use the c330 a lot, usually with a 65mm lens (the equivalent to a 42mm in 35mm format) 

Or the 55 (the equivalent to a 35mm lens in 35mm format) 

But being that my preferred formats are rectangular, the c330 would also do a lot of sitting around 

For the July road trip out to Los Angeles from Texas, my Mamiya 7ii was my choice but the camera was not cooperating 

And so I decided it was time to dust off the c330 

Problem was, both my 55mm and 65mm lenses were out of commission (stuck shutters) and I didn’t have time to get them functional before departing

All I had was the 80mm (the equivalent to a 51mm in 35mm format), a focal length that I’m not too keen on 

It was almost uncomfortable and somehow a bit claustrophobic looking through the viewfinder and trying to compose  

Never really been a fan of 50mm - my go-to lengths are 35mm and 28mm

But as I made my way across the western part of the country, I strangely grew to like it  

The format and focal length turned out to be a nice change  

And the Ilford Delta 100 processed as transparency by the dr5 lab turned out beautifully 

Such a great process, yielding exceptional detail

Having that camera on the trip inspired me to want to use it more, and with the 80mm, too, and do some additional exploring with it, maybe enough to yield a book or two 

Exposed about 13 or so rolls with it on the trip out to Los Angeles and then back to Texas 

Turned out to be worth it - happy to be back to appreciating square format again 

Photograph above made in Kingman, Arizona, July 21, 2017, with the c330 / 80mm lens / Ilford Delta 100 / dr5 combo. The film was pulled a stop, which allows for a more ‘open’ photo. A nice approach if you’re looking for smoother and flatter photos, and with good shadow detail 

Jason LeeComment
Los Angeles

Third trip back out here in the recent months  

The 16mm film project that started on the road back in July from Texas to Los Angeles is coming along nicely 

Have exposed close to 30 rolls now

Strange being here as a visitor, having been living in Texas for a couple of years now, but it's given me an unexpected and very useful 'outsider's perspective'  

I know this city so well - moved here from Orange County, just a bit down the freeway, in 1991

Have lived all over the city throughout the years  

Have skateboarded here, became a skateboard company owner, an actor, photographer, director 

I have favorite areas, and restaurants, and times of day and times of the year  

Incredibly special city, and while I don't perhaps feel I could live here again, it feels in some ways that I appreciate it differently  

Photographically it's remarkable - downtown, the outskirts of downtown, Boyle Heights, the deep Valley, the industry, the abandoned and the hanging on. And the people 

It's all at once filthy and presented 

Almost overwhelmingly exciting 

There's both a buzzing energy here and a strange calmness; for how chaotic it may seem, it's surprisingly settled. And much more cinematic than I remember while being here. I suppose we have a tendency to get used to things 

Don't much prefer the west side, but Santa Monica and Venice are always a treat for roaming and documenting 

And even in Beverly Hills, where downtown LA is probably considered some far-off land somewhere 'out there,' there are stories  

And slivers of the past that remain standing, and its own imperfections and oddities that provide those necessary environmental contrasts  

Perhaps the recent travels around Texas for the forthcoming book A PLAIN VIEW opened me up even more to environment in general (the Texas road trips were specifically and only for photography, and only in one place and at one time, and so I was more actively aware and plugged in to my surroundings) 

And I think I brought some of that with me here  

Don't think I've ever before, while living here, been so moved to continue documenting this city, day in and day out  

I've exposed a lot of film here over the years, but now the city feels more like a photographic platform or backdrop; like a project; something that I need to document

I'm motivated to work here 

And having the Bolex movie camera and working with it each day as I search and search this Los Angeles for things to imprint on my film has certainly given me a new and different sense of exploration, of excitement 

The people, the architecture, the sounds and smells, the differences and similarities, the consistencies and inconsistencies, one stretch to another 

But mostly its beautiful flaws  

And its oddities 

And its unmatched character  

And all the while snapping photos with the Contax G2 I have on the trip (the photograph above was made here in downtown recently with that camera and one of my favorite color films - Fujicolor C200)

A magical and undeniably unique city that I feel both forever connected to and strangely withdrawn from 

But I think it's this withdrawnness, and this resultant newfound objectivity to it that has allowed me to pay more attention to it

It's nice filming skatboarders, too, and to have ridden a board last night. It's been a privilege filming so many great talents and personalities, all of them unique in their own way, just as the various shapes and shades of this city

Everyone has a place here  

Looking forward to fiishing filming and starting to put the pieces together 

2018 Release  


Jason Lee Comments
The Texas series

The idea began when Chris Brown from Refueled magazine and I discussed what to do for a follow-up to the special limited edition instant film issue we published last year 

We were going to do a Volume 2 featuring a selection of my b&w photographs from over the years but decided to do a more traditional, stand-alone book release, and with new material (his RF Book Co and my Film Photographic will be co-publishing) 

And Texas came to mind 

I'd photographed here off and on over the years, but not much with color film. Not much color film in general, really. Not since the early-2000s 

While the photographs in this series aren't dissimilar to many of my other photos from the road over the years, I felt I wanted this series to be in color, but a kind of color that would serve the cinematic references I'd had in mind for the series

Using expired color films and my old Kodak Ektar lens would prove to be the perfect combination for achieving that certain look and feel I was going for (the photograph above, from Krum, Texas, was made with 17-year-expired Kodak Pro 100 film - amazing result)

I used a handful of different Kodak films, all expired, all 4x5, and my old Graflex Speed Graphic view camera 

25 days on the road, off and on, and roughly 5000 miles - January through April of 2017 

Some thoughts on the series, and my photographic approach in general, in regards to this particular America that I've been drawn to for so long now:

I am immensely and forever attracted to these forgotten things, and simple scenes, and empty spaces, the quiet, and what remains, and to the best of my ability I try and capture them from a distance, always conscious of the importance of staying out of the way. Conscious of (hopefully) favorable or interesting angles, yes, but the thing itself is what I'm interested in. I'm simply an objective viewer. And the photographs seem to work to the degree that I maintain a genuine appreciation for what I'm capturing

To the people at the center of what I'm seeing as an outsider, this is just the way it is. But to me, perhaps because I am an outsider, but mostly because fundamentally there's a deep curiosity and an inherent drive to provide some sort of photographic commentary about this landscape, these American scenes, I see it differently. I enjoy wondering about how things are the way they are. And the odd things, too; the things that stand out and contribute to and encourage this curiosity. And many of these scenes feel like conscious installations, which I find fascinating; the neatly kept bush growing around the street light; was the shape of the greenery intentional; does the caretaker of that unit think of it as something creative, or aesthetic in any way, or is it just many copies now of a first attempt that seemed to do just fine and so the tradition has been kept?* Many curiosities and questions come to mind from this vantage point. And the placement of the white Dodge truck in the alley is, to me, like a scene from a movie, the truck placed there at just the right angle and in just the right setting, and with just the right lighting so as to evoke a certain feeling or as a reference to something.* And even though I know it's just simply where the driver happened to park the truck, I buy into the story. Because I want to. I see scenes like these and it reminds me of something. Something cinematic. I never know specifically what at the time but it feels special to me, and important in some way. But to the insiders, the everyday viewers of such scenes, it's just a plain view

Thinking with photography in mind allows us to view things differently. And to perhaps place a value on what others may deem unimportant, or uneventful; everyday views. I find these bits and pieces of America the necessary balancers. It's a wonderful feeling to explore and to be open to the environments around us, no matter what or where they may be. To quote the great photographer Henry Wessel: 'The process of photographing is a pleasure, eyes open, receptive, sensing, and at some point, connecting. It's thrilling to be outside your mind, your eyes far ahead of your thoughts'

More to come, and the book will be available early next year year 

*viewable HERE

Jason LeeComment
LA to Texas, August

Double-exposure by my oldest boy, Pilot, with his Canon AE-1 and the amazing Fujicolor C200

The last time he and I were on the road together with film cameras was when he was about 6 or 7, from Portland to Los Angeles

He had a point-and-shoot camera and made some great pictures, which I still have. One of the many beautiful things about film - it's for life

He'd go on to photograph here and there over the years that followed, but now, at thirteen, he's hooked, and he's got a nice little arsenal of cameras

Really proud of him for his dedication, and for seeing film not just as something that 'used to be,' but as something that just is

It's important that my kids are exposed to as many things as possible, from then and now, and, importantly, to understood that just because something is new, it doesn't necessarily mean it's better

They of course have access to iPods and iPads and such, but they also have access to film cameras, and vinyl records, and reading is certainly encouraged. As is writing, by hand, on paper. When my kids visit my photo office, without fail each of them asks if they can type something on my Smith Corona. They're fascinated by the old contraption. But they don't look upon it as being strange or out of place

On the road, Pilot spent his time in the passenger seat of the old car writing in his journal, or napping, and making film photographs of the passing landscapes out the window 

Proud of him, too, for wanting to write about the trip, and for staying as dedicated to that throughout as he was to exposing film  

We stopped often to make photographs, and he even ran the Bolex 16mm camera a few times, using the handheld light meter and asking questions. And then he'd journal about it 

We took the usual Highway 40 / Route 66, but instead of going up to Barstow and then the 40 across from there, or Joshua Tree up to the 40, we opted for the 10 and then northeast along the 60 and up to Seligman, Arizona to eat at Westside Lilo's Cafe, a favorite eatery of mine

To be a tour guide for my teenaged son, who is now as interested in film as much as I am, was really special

I couldn't shut up the whole time as he'd just sit and listen, ask questions, and then open up his journal and write  

Was a treat pointing out this or that that I'd photographed before. And he was nothing short of excited. To be able to share something like that with my boy is pretty incredible (it's been important to me over the years to establish true kinship with my kids, and that it's happening with my oldest in this way makes me a happy man)

And to see how the things I've photographed over time have changed - the old abandoned gas station in Seligman, with its old lights still standing, now overgrown and becoming enveloped by the Earth around it

Photographed it again. I think I do each time I'm in Seligman  

Tucumcari is always nice to roll into, too. For how 'rundown' it is, like many of these small towns that were once thriving, it seems uniquely a bit more awake. Content. Less touristy perhaps than a Seligman, and so maybe, as a result, a bit more interesting, and even cinematic. Can't put my finger on it, but something cinematic about it. Maybe it's just a good example of something I've seen represented in a film somewhere. The kind of film that makes you want to roam, and be there

It's always amazing to revisit places and things I've photographed over the years and remembering those times

I haven't revisited much from the early California photo road trips (written about in this section), but I plan to, and again with the old 8x10 camera and what useable 8x10 Polaroid film I have left  

Maybe next year  

Maybe I'll bring my son on one of those trips, too. Maybe the other older kids, too - they're getting big enough, and they certainly understand what their dad loves to do and have little film cameras of their own

It'll be nice to see Highway 395 in California again, and Highway 1 up near Salinas - love it up there. And California feels much different than the Southwest. It's nice to spread out and feel and document the differences in locations. Different feelings, experiences, but at the same time, so much of it feels the same - America is pretty beautifully uniform in many ways, but with enough differences as you move around to keep it interesting, and with that ever-changing sense of newness with each new place explored 

But for now, back to Los Angeles later this month to hopefully finish the little 16mm road trip / skateboarding film I've been working on

I'll be writing about that as I get back into it  

Thanks for checking in ...

Jason LeeComment
July, Texas to LA

408 miles so far. Amarillo today from Denton yesterday

Taking our time. Molinar hasn't seen much of Texas or northern Mew Mexico and Arizona, and so stopping often to show him places I've photographed in over the years and for my recent Texas series, and then the routes I've taken in the past in NM / AZ  

Left finally yesterday very late afternoon after discovering in Decatur, Texas that the meter in my Mamiya 7ii was not working and having to turn around and grab my Mamiya c330. One of my favorite cameras but I wanted 6x7 this trip 

But happy to be using the c330 again - now liking the idea of a square format series from this trip, although I'm not a fan of the 80mm lens I was forced to use (both my 55 and 65mm lenses are out of commission). But slowly growing used to it 

Also have the Mamiya Universal for Fuji 3000b and 100c, and the Bolex Super-16mm camera - this is the first time I'm using peel-apart, conventional, and 16mm films together on a road trip since 2009

It's nice to have the Bolex back on the road 

And to be exposing the Fuji instant films again - been since last year that I've used the medium


Jason LeeComment
The beginning of film photography

At the park with my oldest boy, now almost 14, and my first film camera, a Mamiya RZ67. Photo by longtime friend, Gay Ribisi

I'd bought the camera about two years prior in Canada while working on a movie as an actor

It was on that set that I got the film bug  

Prior to getting into acting, I'd exposed a lot of Super-8 film for Stereo Skateboards' 1994 film A Visual Sound (viewable under FILMS) with little automatic cameras, and had used some Polaroid cameras here and there, and spent a lot of time around skateboard photographers, but it wasn't until 2002 that I started paying attention to photography, and cameras, and film - motion picture and stills - on a more serious level 

As an actor, you tend to do your thing as the crew does theirs. But one day, on this particular set, I started noticing the cameras. Not just being aware of their presence, but really seeing them  

And that's all it took  

I started asking the camera guys questions about film, lenses, metering, lighting, light meters, color temperature, etc

And they were more than happy to oblige me  

Almost immediately I bought a Bolex 16mm movie camera and a light meter  

And then the RZ67

I spent everyday experimenting, studying 

After night shoots I'd go back to my hotel room and set up the Bolex on the balcony and expose film with that beautiful morning light. It didn't matter what I was aiming the camera at, so long as I was exposing film, and using my light meter, and that I was actually doing it. Buying that Bolex was indescribably exciting - 'A real movie camera!'

And I went through a lot of Polaroid and Fuji pack film sheets with the RZ and its Polaroid back, using the films to practice metering and to test various filters, etc. It was nonstop 

A bonus of having started learning about these things on a set was realizing how important it is for an actor to know about things like lenses and focal length and depth-of-field, etc 

There can be a disconnect between actor and crew because actors generally don't know what's going on with the camera 

Once I started understanding these things for myself, and things like the axis (which side of 'the line' a scene is taking place on), it helped my performances, my confidence, my overall sense of command in the years that followed 

At some point after that movie, I'd gotten a studio space in downtown L.A., complete with strobe lights and seamless paper backdrops, and the experimenting continued 

A multitude of film type tests, filter tests, lighting tests, and pushing and pulling as many different film types as I could, all the while taking notes. Of everything  

B&W and color

Borrowing people for portraits  

Strobe light, window light, all of it 

And doing what I thought should have been done, what I'd known or been exposed to at the time: 'studio photography' 

It wasn't until hitting the road with my old Century Universal 8x10 view camera and boxes of 8x10 Polaroid film in 2006 that I learned just how little that approach to photography was for me. Being outside and documenting in an unforced and more natural and organic, spontaneous manner was uniquely inspiring. I knew then what photography was meant to be for me 

And seeing Henry Wessel's retrospective at SFMoMA a year later solidified that  

After those first photo road trips I sold all my strobes and backdrops and such, stripped it all down and have since remained focused on just being out there and documenting life, whether it be rural America in a more slowed down manner with large format cameras or walking city streets with point-and-shoot cameras  

Photography, film, exploring. Nothing better  

Happy to see film on the rise and companies remaking old films and introducing new ones. Seems to be a good time for the medium

Next photo road trip will be Texas to California later this month

I'll be posting entires from the road 



(You can read about the aforementioned large format Polaroid road trips in this section)

Jason LeeComment
B&W on the road

Following the 8x10 Polaroid road trips around California that began in 2006 (written about below), I started using more 35mm b&w films on the road - California, Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, Texas. Either with SLR, rangefinder, or point-and-shoot cameras, and with everything being reverse-processed by the dr5 lab 

I had done some of my own traditional b&w processing earlier on, but once I'd discovered that there was a lab that was processing b&w negative films as transparencies, I became hooked. Maybe it's because of having grown fond of the one-off factor with the Polaroid peel-apart print films I'd used prior, but I liked that with the slide film process, what you do in-camera creates the final photograph. Essentially, the camera becomes the darkroom - how you expose the film, and then the processing, determines the final photograph. Much as with shooting E6 film. Or peel-apart print film 

When I got my first 35mm b&w negative film rolls back from dr5 as mounted slides in 2007, I was pretty blown away - detailed, rich, unique, final 

Although I'd gone from large format Polaroids on the road to 35mm, the one-off factor remained  

Since 2007, I've exposed a lot of rolls of film for the dr5 process, 120 included, and everywhere from Disneyland with my kids to vacations overseas (I have quite a lot of b&w slides from Europe and Turkey that I'd like to do something with one of these days) 

But the slides that seem to carry the most weight for me are the ones that I've made on various road trips around the southwest and west coast (viewable under BLACK & WHITE). Similar backroad explorations as with A PLAIN VIEW, which consists of large format color film photographs made throughout Texas, and those early large format Polaroid trips around California that would become the seed for all future photo road trips, but more widespread. And over more time 

I've been sitting on a lot of these slides and am planning to publish some of them over the next few years 

And depsite having a unique fondness for these regions, I'm equally eager to explore other parts of the country in an effort to add new b&w chapters to this ongoing story of this America that I enjoy capturing

The South and the Midwest are on the list...

Jason LeeComment
June 14 gallery talk

A man reads in his front yard, Paris, Texas - 4x5 Kodak Pro 100 

June 14 at 6pm I'll be giving a talk at @artspace111 in Fort Worth about A PLAIN VIEW, currently on display at the gallery. Please rsvp with Artspace 111 if interested in attending

Jason LeeComment
The early days on the road

Highway 1, 2006, 8x10 Polaroid 809

I was using film cameras prior to this but this was the year that I'd set out to document from the road for the first time. I'd been using 8x10 Polaroid films in my downtown LA studio, experimenting with portraits and different types and styles of lighting, and while I'd made some exposures here and there on various travels with other, smaller cameras, I'd never really taken a dedicated 'photo road trip.' Nor had I seen an 8x10 Polaroid print outside. And because of how much I loved the big Polaroid films, especially the 804 b&w stock, and because I'd known that not many were using the big Polaroid films in the field, I was eager for this to be the medium of choice for what would become two separate road trips around California in 2006/7. I'd found a Calumet hand-crank field processor, loaded up the car with boxes of the big Polaroid films and hit the road. Polaroid's 8x10 films require a separate processor, unlike their pack and 4x5 films, and the smaller, lighter, cordless Calumet processor was much more ideal for making 8x10 Polaroid prints outside of a studio setting compared to the brand's own much bigger version

My good friends Aubree Watson and Gay Ribisi accompanied me to assist and document the experience. I was 36-years-old

I remember so vividly, and miss so much, walking to the check-out counter at Samy's Camera in Los Angeles with stacks of boxes of the big film like a kid in a candy store each time I'd need to replenish my stash. And how the employees would tell me that no one really bought the big stuff except for me, 'and maybe one other guy here and there.' I couldn't see why; I couldn't imagine how it wasn't more popular. Maybe it was just me who felt (and still feel) that the Polaroid peel-apart films were beyond unique, and beautiful, especially in such a big size, and weren't just a novelty, or 'a means to an end.' Even the smaller 664 pack film I'd used a lot of I'd considered a true film. In fact, liking it so much is what compelled me to see if Polaroid made a bigger version of it. And when I'd discovered they did, I was thrilled. I mean, one-off 8x10 prints, right there on the spot? Incredible. Polaroid 804 still stands as one of my favorite films, and I've gone through a lot of different mediums and film types and sizes over the years. Shame to see Polaroid not only no longer making it, but no longer making anything at all. I have quite a few boxes of the big films left, but of course it's all expired now. Hoping to get through the stash next year. A lot of the chemicals, mainly with the b&w films, have dried out, partially or completely, but I'm hoping for the best 

The first print I'd made roadside with one of the big Polaroids was a revelation. Knowing that I was out there making 8x10 Polaroid prints on the side of some road somewhere was thrilling. The whole process. I wondered why more people weren't doing the same. Perhaps it was because the film was expensive. Or that 'Polaroids' weren't to some considered 'real photography,' even in large format size. Or maybe it's just that no one had thought to do it. Regardless, it was incredibly exciting, and I'd felt I was on to something new. A good portion of these Polaroids can be seen in a digital copy of my 2016 special limited edition issue of Refueled magazine HERE

I wish now that I would have carried on using the big Polaroid films over the years that followed, but I suppose I just never imagined the company would go under 

But, no matter, those early photo road trips with the big Polaroid films and the old Century Universal view camera were instrumental by how they'd forced me to notice things, to pay attention, especially where the so-called 'mundane' or 'simple' are concerned. Regardless of what camera and what film. They validated an instinct in me. And a spontaneity that I would realize was vital for photography, even when using cumbersome equipment that requires more time. Those early days of exploring California solidified in me an undying love for the road, and the randomness, the abandoned, the forgotten, the odd things, the strange ins and outs of this America. I knew then what I loved documenting and why. And I've been driven by this ever since. And it would all lead to A PLAIN VIEW 11 years later and will undoubtedly continue 

American installments. From the road 

More to come ... 

Jason LeeComment
A PLAIN VIEW opening

A PLAIN VIEW, june 2 - 18, @artspace111

A big thank you to all who braved the heavy rain and made the opening tonight, and to those who purchased prints. And to the kind folks at the gallery for having me

And to those who purchased prints upon today's website launch (SHOP) - after some decompression, I'll make and sign and date the prints and get them shipped out 

A PLAIN VIEW is very special to me, for a number of reasons, and so to see the 45 prints I chose from the new series framed and presented in a gallery setting, and to have received such positive feedback, meant a lot 

I made 297 4x5 exposures over 25 days of driving around Texas earlier this year. It's the most I've covered any state I've photographed in over the years, and the most color film I've ever exposed at one time. And the expired Kodak films through the old Kodak Ektar lens captured perfectly the scenes as I'd wanted to see them. Very happy with the palette, the narrative, and the print quality 

The next showing of prints from the series will be July 13 - August 12 at @preacheraustin 

In the meantime, the editing of the book will continue, with its release scheduled for end of year 

I'll be speaking about the series at the gallery June 14 at 6pm. For those interested in attending, please contact them. I'll have my camera from the series on hand and look forward to discussing and answering any questions about the process 

Jason LeeComment
Thank You

For visiting the new website. And thank you to the amazing duo that is @ronrauto and @yelley for constructing it 

This section will be a source for news about projects, site updates and additions, etc

It will also eventually serve as a replacement to Instagram, which I find to be a useful but limiting means 

Photo and video posts will be made here, stories told, questions answered ...

As I've been promoting on IG, a handful of prints from my new large format film series A PLAIN VIEW will be on display at @artspace111 in Fort Worth, Texas beginning tonight through the 18th. Opening reception 5 - 8:30pm - press release HERE

There will also be on an exhibition of prints from the series July 13 - August 12 at @preacheraustin in Austin, Texas

The initial selection of photographs that were chosen from the series to be printed for these exhibitions are also available here under SHOP. Additional photographs will be designated for printing on July 13, with the book to be released end of year 

These editions will be the only editions offered from this series, and only in the four sizes listed 

General inquiries can be sent HERE

Thanks again for visiting 

Jason LeeComment