André F. van Rooyen: Voigtlander

Matopos National Park.
Hasselblad negative scanned.

Bill and I were talking today (I went to pay him for the Voigtlander!), about photographing a place like Matopos. The question in my mind is: why live in the immediate vicinity of an incredibly photogenic place like Matopos for nine years without making a serious effort to photograph it? Surely, it cries out to be photographed? There is so much: Grandiose granite would be a definite understatement! If it was manmade, many would have said that perhaps the architects went slightly beyond the original brief, if not completely overboard!

Although the objective of our ambling conversation was not aimed at answering my nagging question, we did touch on it and probably came very close to the real answer. The main reason why the lag between first seeing and seriously considering Matopos as the subject of a photographic project, constituted 9 years, is most probably a function of understanding, and I mean a fundamental understanding… Actually it is more than understanding - you need to feel the place, its character and moods. Once seeing how the seasons change and attempt to control and mould the place and in turn seeing how she fights back, resists and maintain her own… I guess you need to see it emerge from, heal itself, after a devastating fire, or being cut down again during the dry season after a spectacular rainy season… You need to freeze there, feel how the granite can sap the last heat out of your body, or you need to sweat in the heat, cycling a mountain bike through it - hating yourself for even attempting it, and enjoying the triumph of one of these views once you reach a summit.

Hasselblad - Printed on Ilford FB paper & scanned.

You need to experience it first hand on numerous occasions, with different friends for different reasons, alone or simply with your immediate family, to celebrate birthdays or sitting on a massive rock contemplating the death of your sister, a lifelong friend, or, as in my case sitting in the same spot coming to terms with the fact that I have escaped certain death. Seeking out a path through the labyrinth of rocks and boulders and trees in a two dimensional world, teaches you a lot about Matopos and about yourself. The first time I went back there I needed a helping hand - a guide. But things improved thereafter and now I am confident and can go there alone. I think its a process of seeing and experiencing these transitions, not only within the physical environment going through seasons and droughts and fires, but also the transitions in you as a human being going through this place. Its molds you, cradles you, supports you and if you open yourself to it, you learn from it. It has many lessons.

Hasselblad - Printed on Ilford FB paper & scanned.

As the granite changes at the pace of eons, slowly tinkered by frost, heat and cold and by the chemistry of the earth, similarly we have our own core, the rigid center of our being, which budges for nothing less than death itself. The next layer is still long lived, trees counting life cycles in hundreds of years growing alongside their granitic brothers. Further layers follow in the form of young trees, shrubs, grasses and brittle herbs in the early rainy season. The most vulnerable is the thin outer layer of lichens and mosses - fragile as our own skin or sensitive as our hearts. Often in the misty rains you will see the tears roll down these boulders and accumulate in tiny streams - feeding the earth, nurturing and promising this complex giant a new phase of growth and prosperity, starting another cycle. New life.

Defunct Gatepost. Matopos.
Bill's Voigtlander. Printed on very old
Agfa paper & scanned.

In my human arrogance, nine years seems to be a reasonable apprenticeship… Seeing nine cycles before my eyes, in the morning on my daily commute, at dusk at down, in pitch black darkness during a fishing trip - watching goats and cattle auctioned with a the granitic backdrop of Matopos, seeing children grow up as they walk to school, seeing young women with proud shoulders carrying water in the mornings turning into plump mothers with blankets supporting new babies on their backs and fresh wheelbarrows turning into rusty wobbly wheeled devices of local frustration… I am almost convinced that the first chocolate donkey I saw as a young jolly soul, is now a harness scarred cynical old girl with a matted coat, but as stubbornly willing as the first day she was used in front of that cart.

Having seen all of this, and being molded and shaped by life through some beautiful and some not so beautiful challenges - I think this place has opened up to me, a sliver wide enough to see her heart and to graciously allowing me to point a camera onto her noble face and character. I shall take this honor with dignity, and do my utmost to portray this place with enthusiasm and passion.

I just love this place!
Hasselblad negative scanned

Impressive Clouds near Gulati.
Canon 1D iv

In the modern world we live in, there would be no need to even contemplate using a camera which is 30 or 40 years old... or would there be? Lets be realistic, why would one take the long route? Why switch off the lights and turn on a safelight in the year 2012? Why? Because it does something deep inside to the artist in all of us.... seeing the image miraculously emerge from white paper remains one of the miracles in my life! Analogue is a long process, from looking at the scene, composing it in your mind and visualizing it ala Ansel.... then you press the shutter, see how many shots still remain on the
spool and shoot again... a calm and calculated thoughtful process. Each step requires careful planning, and the anticipation at the end of it is what makes one put so much care into the process... loading the film in the development chamber, timing, chemicals... agitating until that moment you can gently unload the negative and inspect it while still wet... instantly a trained eye can get a feel for it, good, ok! or "Oh my word, I will have to do this again!" All this and you still have not seen the image emerge... this is what analogue is all about - planning, doing, anticipating and eventually printing... That moment when magic, chemistry and reality comes to life!

Hasselblad 500 c/m with 80mm & 250mm lenses

I was a young boy when a friend of my farther came visiting us with a square stainless steel case... in there was a Hasselblad 500c/m. I will never ever forget the sound of the shutter and the slap of the light curtain in that camera. It haunted me for many years. I had to have one... Like every man with a soul must own cattle somewhere in his life, every man with soul must own a Hasselblad!

I never saw many of these cameras, until in 2010 one of them was advertised on Outdoorphoto in South Africa. By then I have had read much about the Hasselblad and were ready to make one of these my own. It was a really good deal, two lenses, 80mm and 250mm, two backs, light meter and some smaller extras. I was a proud man and the process of acquiring film and acquainting myself with the camera started. This was also a good time to read and study all three of Ansel Adams' books; The camera, The negative and The print. A new world opened and I was set to go.

My very own Hasselblad 500c/m on its first outing
to the Kruger National Park in South Africa!
Canon 5D

Then the worst thing in my life happened! I was attacked by I lioness in my sleep during a boat trip on Lake Kariba... The details of this is the subject of another story. The important variable here is the fact that I lost my left eye, leaving me a monocular being, just like my cameras. During the days in hospital while emerging from my morphine cloud and drug induced sleep, I had to make a few critical decisions about life. Once I was convinced that I was going to be able to see, I had one eye and one eye was enough to build a new life on.... I was able to focus on the future. At that point one of the most important decisions I made was to commit to photography. It suddenly became crucial - while it was always important, now its importance was paramount. It became my way of living, defying death and celebrating vision....

Looking through the lens of my camera the first time was very emotional - life was once again beautiful and acceptable! My half blind two-dimensional view was intact again through the lens of Canon 5D. It was wonderful, and I was excited about life again.

Defunct gate post - Matopos Research Station
Canon G12

To add to all of this - a life insurance policy paid out an amazing amount - small compensation for the loss of an eye, but enough to make a few other dreams possible - from this I pinched off a little and bought another camera, one which I dreamt about, but that was out of my reach... a small gift to spur me on further. In that way I became the proud owner of a Canon 1D mark iv!!! An absolutely amazing camera. The main reason for this specific camera was primarily for sport, my sons being serious athletes, and between cycling, polocrosse, hockey and some, this camera would be my dream. I became well versed with this camera and it became an extension of my eye and the most beautiful way to observe life.

My Canon 1D iv

This purchase and off course a few high quality lenses to go along set me on my way and drove my passion even further. During the haze of recovery and getting back into life I also acquired an second hand EOS 3, probably one of the better analogue cameras Canon made in recent years, what was more important to me was the fact that this camera was made to sccomodate EOS lenses and the best glass I had could now be used for film as well! Not long after this, came a full darkroom - these can now be bought for a fraction of the cost that one would have bought it in years gone by! In a short time I got a few enlargers and a mountain of old paper to play with and to get back into it. Life was more exciting than ever before and I was able to do things, the things I have always wanted to do - photograph the old way, develop and print, real photos on real paper, all spurred on by the lioness of Tashinga.

My work requires me to travel far and wide - wonderful! However, lugging a large camera bag along to a meeting somewhere and knowing you will not get good photo opportunities left me wondering whether I dont need a small point and shoot... Always reason to buy something photographic! Searching for the right camera was painful but exciting! The requirement was that I wanted something I could carry with me without an extra camera bag, I wanted some control over shutter speed and aperture etc etc. Being biased towards Canon, I ended buying a G12 - a gem, slightly larger than what I really wanted, but still a good camera to carry around at family dinners, in airplanes, in meetings, while out cycling and during my lunchtime walks on the Matopos research station.

Zeiss Ikon - Who does not want to own one of these?
Canon G12

My latest purchase is more of a nostalgic toy rather than a real workhorse! My friend Bill Rose is an amazing man who buys and sells all sorts antiques; furniture, jewelry, trinkets, odds and ends. We agreed upon a date and time and he turned up with a bag with old cameras... Two caught my eye, a Zeiss Ikon Nettar which I bought there and then, and a Voigtlander Bessamatic, a jewel produced from 1959 and followed by the Bessamatic de Lux in 1962. This one I said to Bill would be mine if it works well and I can actually use it. I have since put a roll of film through it, developed and printed a few photos from this camera. Amazing quality, and depending on what Bill want for it, I will most probably buy it and give it a place in my camera bag and use it as a walk about...

So, this is what I have to work with, from the best that the modern camera world can offer to the old classics which stood the test of time and proved their status as timeless and powerful image makers!