Dare to Refuse Usuality

By Robert Balcomb ©1999

I wonder if anyone else has noticed an odd sameness in most photography studio portraits. Wherever I go, I see the same-same-same, over, over, and over. That’s what I mean by Usuality.

I am a professional portrait photographer, but not the “usuality” kind. My technique differs from others, primarily in its simplicity: I have only one product, an 11x14, black-and-white, single-sitting portrait, double-matted, framed under glass, in sizes 14x18 and 16x20. Made with a simple Rolliecord camera and the slowest b/w film. That’s it. I include mats and frame because I want control over my product—the framing to complement the portrait, not the environment it will hang in. The portraits consist only of bust and head, no teeth or hands, no designers’ hats, furs, trinkets or other sundry interlopers that would interfere with the simple facial countenance of the sitter. My clients understand my demands and have accepted them through my fifty years of practice.

My technique involves using only one light and retouching the print, never the negative. With this method, I achieve a quality not possible otherwise. Also, I employ an exposure and development procedure that allows me, after a five-minute agitation, to leave the roll of film in the developer for up to two hours. Of course, I do so only now and then just for fun to astound people whose color drains from the face when I tell them it’s possible—that is, what color is left after I tell them I use only one light. With my developer, five minutes is adequate for full development; beyond that, nothing else can happen.

You see, I’m a renegade, having studied and worked with the master renegade William Mortensen, who disproved most of the beliefs of the “f/64” crowd. For example, their theory “Expose for the shadows and develop for the highlights” forces the negative to be pulled before the developer has done all the emulsion is capable of—the “gamma” thing. Mortensen proved the reverse: “Expose for the highlights and develop for the shadows,” hence the impossibility of over-developing the negative (naturally, the negative must be pulled before the developer exhausts and stains the film), and hence a negative with total development. After all, photo emulsion is relatively limited compared with the eye, so why rob it of its full potential?

In addition, my use of only one light, placed next to the camera lens, scares those who believe that a single light source gives a flat effect. Shine a light on a large white beach ball from about five or six feet and with a spot meter read the light fall-off from the center of the ball to its “horizon.” This gradual diminution of light produces the gradations that define shape.

During the printing process I also impart various textures to the print, hand-done textures used singly or in combination to achieve certain effects, exclusive to my work, chosen to complement the portrait itself. As a final touch, I calligrafically add the sitter’s name, usually over, and in part, behind the head. Also, a practice that I have always hated and avoided is the inclusion of a hand—placed for no apparent reason, uselessly glued to the chin or side of the sitter’s face.

What sent me to Mortensen? For over three years I had tried to teach myself, knowing that I wanted to do portraiture, having a vague idea of what I wanted to achieve, but not how to get there. I had read the books and magazines and talked with local photographers, but they all said the same things, the things I saw in every studio, all producing about the same kind of work, one hardly distinguishable from the next. I wanted something different—something distinctive, something that shouted, “This is a Robert Balcomb!” One day a friend showed me a brochure from the Mortensen studio that changed me forever: I said, “That’s what I’ve been striving for!” and moved my family to Laguna Beach CA for a six-month study and work with Mortensen himself. I have successfully followed his techniques and philosophies, adding my own touches and techniques, for lo these fifty years.