Guest Blog by Emily Passino - Back to Film
February 29, 2020
The first time I clicked the shutter release button on my Minolta SRT-201 a few weeks ago and heard that satisfying mechanical ‘clunk,’ I began planning where I could build a darkroom in our house. The camera had been given to me by a friend who had a friend who was downsizing, and had been in my closet for a couple of years. Why did I bring it out, load it up with film and start shooting this winter?
First, there was a bit of nostalgia, remembering hours in my father’s darkroom developing prints: the red safe light, the dodging and burning, the dreamlike way a photograph emerged in the developer tray, the satisfaction of touch, and of course the shared experience with this unusually patient parent, who outside of the darkroom could be, well, more complicated.
Second, a gifted professor, Beth Trabue Gorham, was teaching a black and white film class at the community college this semester, a class I had considered taking before but never seemed to mesh with my schedule.
Third, there was also my growing admiration for the work of fellow photographers choosing film for all or part of their shoots – their work seemed grounded in the work of earlier classic photographers we admire today, and at the same time fresh, with contemporary vision and acceptance of the imperfections of a mechanical, chemical, hands-on process.
Finally, I was intrigued with the idea of being even more intentional. Photography already slows me down to be present and observant, but hearing Caroline Allison recently describe her photography as “slow photography” resonated with my growing understanding of how I might approach photography as a creative practice. I know I think differently with a pen in my hand than in front of a computer. Would I see differently with a film camera than with my digital camera?
It’s still so very early in this journey. I no longer glance at the back of the camera, but can still forget to cock the film. I have only developed 4 rolls of film and managed to print only a handful of images. Some of the lessons learned decades ago in my father’s darkroom are beginning to re-emerge, though I am making every mistake in the book.
But I will say this. Even after just a couple of rolls of film, I see that my digital photography has already slowed down. While out shooting I take more time looking and experiencing the scene from many angles. I am more careful with framing and exposure and perspective. My digital post-processing is also changing. It seems to be somehow more aligned with the darkroom process. I no longer jump in and fiddle with settings because they have produced some great effects before, but stop and evaluate the image as if it were illuminated by the enlarger rather than on my screen. I sometimes now only crop or make small tweaks to curves. I am beginning to understand better what contrast actually “is,” and whether a photo might work best in monochrome.
In short, I am no longer so certain that I need my own darkroom, but I do feel that I’ll continue to have my Minolta out and about with me as I head out for shoots.
About the handful of photos attached:
Stuck at a long light, enjoying the fact that the car ahead of me heeded this fellow’s sign and dug out a beer to share with him – and belatedly realizing I had my new camera right on the seat beside me! Scrambled to get it out, hastily check the meter, cock the film – and watch the fleeting moment of the neighborly handover go by. Still, thought I’d see how the camera did through the windshield – not bad.
First roll of film, testing camera, out and about with friends. Light through the window at Clawson’s Pub & Deli on Chestnut Hill in Nashville while waiting for order. Maybe my favorite from the roll.
More from the first roll of film, at Clawson’s Pub & Deli on Chestnut Hill, waiting for our lunch order, enjoying the hub-bub of the lunch crowd. I was interested in how the menu board and lighted refrigerator would play out.
This was part of a class assignment to shoot a roll of people, places and things. Having an errand nearby I remembered this cemetery, and though the day was heavy with dark gray clouds with little sun, there began to be a few breaks in the clouds, so I had hopes for something more than a dusky atmosphere in the middle of the afternoon. After taking a handful of shots, the clouds seemed to have totally moved back in, so I began packing up my camera bag – when just then the sun peeked through again. Fleeting moment! Pulled out camera and got this shot from underneath an ancient magnolia tree. I must say that it was so satisfying to get to develop this roll of film, see on the contact sheet that there were a couple of decent shots from that afternoon, and get to try my hand at printing one of them.
So this is the first actual print of my new journey.
About the Author
Emily Passino explores the nature of contemporary culture through shooting “social landscapes.” As president of a Nashville group of fine art photographers, Society of Nashville Artistic Photographers, she is also active with a street photography collective, leads “photo dialogue” sessions with a community group for people with early stage Alzheimer’s and is constantly learning. Her photography can be seen on Instagram, @emilypassino and on her website at https://emilypassino.myportfolio.com .