Planning my trip across the USA and Canada, to photograph the works of Mies van der Rohe, I quickly realized that it would be very hard to carry a lot of equipment over there.
I started thinking that I should better leave my Sinar, and all the lenses I use with it, at home. The multitude of different buildings I had to photograph, dictated that bringing only my Corfield WA67 would be an impossibility.
Non-shift medium format equipment, like the Hasselblad, wouldn't be an option either.
So I started thinking about alternatives.
To substitute the Sinar, I decided to get a Gandolfi Variant in 4x5 inches (my Gandolfi Precision 8x10" was out of question for obvious reasons...). I got the model with more features, the so called Level III, in MDF.
Not the lightest camera, but with lots of movements and very sturdy.
Enough bellows draw, to allow me to use my Rodenstock Apo-Ronar 480mm.
Enough wide-angle capability to use my Schneider Super-Angulon 58mm.
Capable of accepting my Horseman 6x12 roll film back and my Linhof Rapid Rollex 6x7.
What could I wish more?
Yes, you guess it right: the Horseman SW612 Pro!
Nice format for double-pages spreads in square books, interchangeable high-quality lenses, shift capability, very good engineering and build quality.
Add a couple of lenses for each camera, plus a Gossen Variosix F and a Minolta Spotmeter, plus focusing clothes and lupes, loads of film and some other paraphernalia and you get the picture of what we had to carry around... Oh, don't forget the Gitzo tripod and the Manfrotto 410 geared head!
Happilly, in those times I was stronger than today, and I had the good helping-hand of my older sun Jorge, who assisted me on the trip.
He shared duties with me on carrying, driving, eating fast food, sleeping in cheap motels, looking for the places to photograph and, most of all, having lots of patience for solving shooting permissions and assorted problems. I can imagine that without his help, I would certainly be in serious trouble.
While staying at the Illinois Institut of Technology, when it was raining and we could not work, we used to jump in the car and drive for endless hours across the Southside of Chicago.
Killing time, we found out that we were the only white people we could see around.
White people in America don't seem to cross the afro-american territory, they drive around, speeding down the highway without looking.
White people don't seem to know how blacks live in America.
Black people seem to know how whites live: they clean their homes, they drive their cabs, they fight their wars.
At night we used to sit around Seven-Eleven, inside the campus in Commons building, again killing time and watching. It seemed to be the only place in all Chicago where you could see a certain coexistance between various types of people. The cops and the ambulance drivers, the southsiders and the students, the beggars and the rich, they all came for a cup of coffee, for something to eat.
Then, we would go back to our room in the student's residence, having to go through a kind of check point where we had to show our ID to a student. Most of them didn't even say hello or wish good night, the only exception beeing a very nice and young black lady.
We were always happy to meet her.
One night she didn't notice that we were coming and she just kept dancing. We just waited awhile before knocking, delighted with the beauty and elegance of her dance. Needless to say that she got a little ashamed when she understood that we had been watching her for a while.
Since then I called her "Night Dancer" and she always gave back a beautiful smile.
That lady was a nice human beeing...
On our flight back home, via London, we had the chance of meeting some very nice people again: the crew of British Airways proved to be of exceptional kindness.
We got along with each other so well, that when we were getting ready to leave the plane, some members of the crew came to us and presented us with two bottles of Champagne!
Amazed, I just could say that it had been a pleasure to fly with them. They replied that if they always had such nice passengers, their job would be wonderfull...
Of course, we were flying economic, make no mistake.
These are the little stories that touch our souls, these are the true reasons why I love life.
Photographs are just photographs!
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