Why I still shoot film.

 

By TheAgeOfAnalog

November 28, 2014

 

Why do I still shoot film.

 

Why? I'll try to get to that eventually. First, a little history.

 

I'm old, which it seems, is a rather recent development. I was born at a time when most televisions were still black and white, only the privileged families had color sets, and cameras too were a luxury item, especially pro level cameras. I was raised by a single mother, we had a cheap Kodak Instamatic 126 camera, complete with “MagicCubes” for flash. It was a cheap plastic piece of junk, but it still felt like a thing of wonder when I had the opportunity to use it.

 

We were not avid picture takers by any means. Often a single cartridge of film would reside in said Instamatic for months, a few shots taken on holidays, birthdays, soccer games, etc. When we did complete a roll, it would go to the local grocery or drug store, where it was usually sent off to a lab somewhere, then they would call you several days later to let you know your prints were ready. Occasionally, we would get the larger 4x6” prints, as 3x5” was standard back then, and if we knew it was a special roll, even double prints. Even though half of the prints were usually crap, poor exposures, subject movement, or a finger in front of the lens (thanks mom), it was still a treat to open the envelope and flip through the prints, sometimes right in the store or outside in the car.

 

As I got older and more curious about cameras and photography, I paid special attention to friends, relatives, and professionals, taking note of the equipment they were using, how they held the cameras, and the films they used. My paternal grandfather, who passed away when I was just 12, had been an avid photographer since being in the Army during WW2, using and collecting many different types of cameras. While my maternal grandfather, who never really discussed his past with me, I discovered years later actually worked in a small lab for a while, developing film and making prints in his own darkroom. I've since inherited his collection of prints and negatives, many of which I have scanned and posted online. During my youth, he seemed to appreciate my interest in photography, but for some reason we never really talked about it much. In retrospect, since his recent passing, I feel he might have been sad or resentful about having to give up his hobby, as adult responsibilities pushed it aside.

 

So, to some extent, I feel that photography is in my blood, maybe not consciously, but was lurking in the shadows since I was quite young. The cameras, the film, the processes, maybe more than the image itself may have captured my interest most. I love toys, not buying them necessarily to show them off to others, well maybe sometimes, but I've always marveled at the stuff. Cameras are tools, but each one is unique, with unique abilities and features, much like the people that use them. The first “real”camera I remember using was a family friend's Polaroid Land Camera. I think I was about 10 years old. He let me pull the film out of the camera, had me time the development with my watch, then had me peel the paper from the negative. Seeing a photo just moments after it was taken, smelling the still damp emulsion, I remember it well. I was smitten.

 

My first camera was actually a Christmas present, a Kodak Instant that my mother purchased for me. It was a huge fat monster, nothing like the sleek mechanical Polaroids of the day. It used Kodak instant film, which even back in the late eighties was insanely expensive. Minimum wage was like $3.35 an hour, and Kodak instant film was about $8 for a ten pack. I think I might have bought just 2 packs of film for it, ever, after I used the pack that came with the camera. A few years later, Polaroid sued Kodak for copyright infringement, and Kodak stopped making the film. I think we got a $25 gift card from a class action suit after mailing the camera back to Kodak. What a huge waste of money.

When I was 14, a friends dad told me he had an old camera I could have, if I wanted it. He dug a medium sized box from his closet and handed it to me. It was an Argus C3, complete with case, accessory lenses, filters, hoods, and strap. It was in pretty good condition, but in retrospect might have suffered from some possible lens fungus. It didn't come with a book, so I did some research at the library to learn how to set the shutter, aperture, and film counter. It didn't own any kind of a light meter, so I was forced to use the exposure guide that came with the film. I shot a couple of rolls through it, with wildly differing results. Most had severe vignetting, not sure if it was a fungus issue, wrong lens hood, or what, but I was never satisfied with it. It just seemed like a clunky old piece of junk to me at the time, which, arguably, it probably was. Years later, I gave it to a friend that moved to Japan, he never cared for it either, and he's pretty sure his mom sold it at a garage sale.

 

When I turned 15, I was able to get a part time job, sacking groceries at our local Piggly Wiggly. My mission, to save as much money as I could, as quickly as possible, and get a real camera. I had bought a subscription to Popular Photography recently, so I was up on the current crop of SLRs being sold, and I had my sights on one in particular, the Minolta X-700. It was Photokina camera of the year when it was released, in 1982 as I recall, so yeah, that is what I needed. I took me about 4 months, but I gathered the required funds and bought my baby, complete with Rokkor 50mm f2 lens. Then, I went nuts...

 

Ok, nuts might be a bit harsh, but I was blowing through film like mad. Mostly color print film, but the occasional roll of Kodachrome or Tri-X as well. I took that thing everywhere, pointed it at everything, and everybody, and even became that guy, you know, the camera guy. I even have photos of friends with that, “really, again?” face. Eventually, I also bought a TTL flash, 28mm wide angle, then the holy grail of lenses, at least to me at the time, a 70-210 zoom. The zoom was the best thing and the worst thing to happen to my photography, at the same time. It made me lazy, but also got me interested in nature and sports photography. The 50mm seemed boring and useless at the time, but the 28mm got me hooked on what may still be my favorite subject, architectural scenes.

 

The X-700 served me well for years, but then I soon added a motor drive, off camera flash, flip bracket, and a few Tamron Adaptall lenses. I got tired of never having the right film in my camera, so I picked up a few extra bodies, an SRT101 and XE7. I bought a huge Domke F2 bag, lugged it around with me at all times, and it was starting to feel like a chore, just too much stuff. I shot a few weddings (never again) a few senior portrait sessions, and even a paid environmental portrait project for an industrial tool employer. I had a full time job, but my hobby was starting to feel like a part time job, and not in a good or fun way, just more hassle and responsibility.

 

In the following years, I shot a few mountain bike races, family events, and even won a few local contests, but I was starting to lose interest. I had also bought a really nice little Stylus Zoom clamshell P&S, which under the right circumstances, took surprisingly good photos, and fit in my pocket. Digital had been on the market for a couple of years, but only big expensive ones were capable of decent images, so I was in no hurry to get one.

 

Soon thereafter, I had a friend who had hundreds of collectable items he wanted me to sell for him on eBay. At first, I used my SLRs, taking the film to Walgreens, getting scans on CD, then uploading the edited images. Then, I figured I could save both time and money if I just got a digital camera. So, being a Minolta guy, I bought a nice 4mp 3x zoom Minolta digital for about $400. I was hooked. From that point on, I don't think any of my film cameras left the closet. That was soon replaced by a smaller, faster, higher megapixel Olympus, which was again soon replaced buy a faster, higher megapixel super-zoom Panasonic/Leica.

 

Film? Who needs it?

 

Let me start off by saying, I love my newest digital camera. The Nikon CoolPix p7100 is an amazing tool. 12Mp, 7x zoom, optical and digital viewing, swing down screen, HD video, vibration reduction, and all in a weather resistant camera that will fit in a cargo pocket, all for less than $500. If I'm attending a concert or festival, I grab my CoolPix, it's light, easy, and doesn't cost me more money to use than what I spent to buy it. It's perfect for those kinds of things. I've got shots from years of Bonnaroo festivals that rival professional images, as we are often in the front rows. Rules are pretty relaxed, they really discourage huge “pro” rigs with detachable lenses, but the p7100 is perfect.

I've yet to find the need or desire for a big DSLR, which brought me to the thought recently. I DON'T NEED ONE. That's right, I don't need one. I see absolutely no need. I'm not a professional, I rarely shoot sports, and even if I could afford one I'd never afford the lenses I'd want. Which got me to thinking a while back, hey, don't I still have a huge bag of great gear in the closet?

 

I first joined Flickr back in 2007, mainly as a way to share my Bonnaroo images. Soon thereafter, I started joining groups, posting to several, as well as joining in many group discussions. I'd shot a few rolls with my SRT101, as well as resurrecting an old HiMatic E rangefinder, which I'd bought for just a few bucks at a pawn shop. The rangefinder was a revelation. The small size, the bright clear viewfinder which never blacked out, the quiet shutter, and that lens? I then starting posting images from the HiMatic E to Flickr, then again, I went nuts.

 

Digging that old HiMatic out, fixing it, using it, and getting feedback from others was infectious. I started buying cameras, any cameras, eBay, Etsy, charity shops, as well as ShopGoodwill.com. Cleaning them, fixing them, modifying them, and ultimately, when possible, using them, was addictive. It was around that time that I also discovered that film was still available for Polaroid pack cameras, so I starting collecting those, and found that using them was just as much fun. The build quality of those things is outstanding and my Auto 250 with Zeiss finder is an absolute gem.

 

When I agreed to start participating in the Roll in a Day group on Flickr, that was the time I decided that I needed to start developing my own film and also buy a scanner. I had a Patterson tank from years before when I took a darkroom class, so after consulting some advice I bought a Tetenal C-41 kit from B&H Photo. Developing C-41 was easier than I ever thought it could be. I was a mini-lab service tech for Kodak for a few years, so I was familiar with the chemical and processes. Knowing how important temperature and cleanliness was, I thought doing it at home would suck, but as long as proper times and temps are observed, the results can be outstanding. Scanning is something I'm still learning, but being able to scan at home is so much cheaper, and better quality can be achieved as well.

 

I've since expanded my gear hoard to also include several half-frame cameras, Polaroids, as well as my new precious Mamiya C330 Pro S. The big 6x6cm frames are just so choice. If you have the means to get a TLR, I suggest you do so immediately. The image quality is fantastic and using the reverse finder and having to think in squares is a great exercise as well.

 

So, all the gear, the chemicals, plus the time spent developing and scanning. Is it worth it? Does it make any sense? To me, yes, and that is all that matters. It makes me happy. Being able to get results that myself and others find interesting, using gear and a medium most others believe is obsolete at best, irrelevant at worst, is the most satisfying of all. Newer tech, be it audio equipment, cars, or cameras, may make the end result easier, but is easier always a more satisfying journey?

 

Which brings me to the original question, why still shoot film? Because it feels good, and who can argue with that?