Botanical garden and the Ginkgo tree

Mai Quynh on 10. February 2024

When I think about botanical gardens, the educational aspect is the first thing that comes to my mind. They are often attached to a university and when you enter a botanical garden, the plants are categorized according to a system. And you see these little rectangular metal plates everywhere, with the scientific name engraved in black. Sometimes there is even a trivial name that you can learn.

What I usually don't take home: Knowledge about plants. I told myself often: Today you're going to look at a plant, memorize it and its name! And if you do that a few times, you'll have expanded your repertoire of knowledge about plants by at least a little bit.

And so many times this was too much effort and I simply enjoyed the plants and how they were put together.

As I have learnt from the german Wikipedia entry "Botanischer Garten" (Botanical Garden) I did everything the correct way. It says (the following quote is translated by DeepL and me): "'Science and pleasure' was the motto of the botanical gardens at Kew near London (England), at the beginning of the history of the great botanical gardens in Europe and America." Thus, pleasure is at least as desirable as the scientific aspect.

Ginkgo?

Once I actually learnt something. I can't quite remember how it all happened in detail but here's my vague recollection: there were one or two ginkgo trees in a botanical garden. Next to the metal name plates was a poster promising more information. It was written: Ginkgo trees have two sexes - female or male. The botanical garden only had trees of one gender because the other gender had something smelly.

I did a quick research on the missing details so that neither you nor I end this text with dangerous half-knowledge. The Karlsruhe botanical garden explains in the section "Männliche und weibliche Ginkgos" (Male and female ginkgos): Female plants develop fruits in autumn which eventually fall off the tree. If you crush them then, they will stink of butyric acid. I therefore assume that the Dresden botanical garden, where I had read the poster, only had male plants.

However, the pictures of the ginkgos are not taken in the Dresden botanical garden, but - after having strawberry tartlet - in the botanical garden not far from the S-Bahn station Klein Flottbek in Hamburg.

Last but not least, two random things: Firstly - Goethe wrote a poem about the ginkgo called "Ginkgo biloba". And secondly - don't forget the g after the k in the word ginkgo.

Camera + lens: Minolta 9000 AF + Minolta AF 50mm f1.4
Film: KODAK 100T-MAX
Development + scan: Charlie Engel Lab 2.0

Strawberry tartlet

Mai Quynh on 31. January 2024

A strawberry tartlet. How it tasted? I wish I could remember. But it did look pretty, with that golden paper plate (although not much is left on the picture and we have nothing at all). Very photogenic. That's what we have to admit to the strawberry tartlet, don't we?

On that day, in a city that was quite unfamiliar to me, (in the truest sense of the word) I sweetened my time in a café. I was watching people and maybe they were watching me too. You saw each other, a small smile flitted across your face as you saw each other, and then you turned back to your newspaper or notebook.

Well fortified, I set off again to explore the city. To a place that I like to visit in every city: the Botanical Garden. The S-Bahn took me a few stops further west - until I was ready to get off at station Klein Flottbek.

Camera + lens: Minolta 9000 AF + Minolta AF 50mm f1.4
Film: KODAK 100T-MAX
Development + scan: Charlie Engel Lab 2.0

Harz on rainy and sunny days

Mai Quynh on 5. October 2023

Aurelie. Meant Harz in summer. And yet, it rained for a whole day. We walked with umbrellas to the viewpoint of Wernigerode Castle, only to not be allowed to see the castle because of the fog. But Harz in summer meant also a day of hiking full of sun with little shade. Field after field littered with purple foxgloves, surrounded by fine silver hairgrass. I haven’t had enough of them.

~

The purple colour got lost through the black white film, named Aurelie, and I was also unable to capture the foxgloves and silver hairgrass (determined by an app). The more I like the images from the rainy day. In fact, they are my favourite images in the whole film.

Flashback to my mini-teaser in the last logbook post. The note from the photo lab scared me; it read „Unfortunately, your film was not complete and predominantly strongly underexposed. The underexposure makes a dust-free scanning of the film quite difficult“.

It wasn’t until I was writing about the film and this post that I realised I hadn’t continued reading from „strongly underexposed“ onwards and was instead dramatic and disappointed. Indeed, a few motifs/pictures are missing and haven’t made it to anything after development, that’s the „not complete“ part then. A lot of pictures were strongly underexposed (not shown), round about the half of the film, nevertheless they weren’t just black spots. That’s what I assumed when I read the note and had quite much black-and-white-thinking – literally speaking. Instead, the pictures were rather a mix of dark grey hues with few contrast.

The fact that I worked with ISO 50 film for the first time most probably plays a role as well. First conclusion: tendency to underexposure. Thus, for the next time I will use an ISO 50 film, I should provide my film a little more light.

Camera + lens: Minolta Dynax 7000i + Minolta AF 50 mm
Film: ILFORD PAN F+ 50
Development + scan: Urbanfilmlab