“In a strange way that means the people we love never truly die, doesn’t it? Perhaps a letter will one day be found, a photograph uncovered, that animates for just a moment that person in our minds once again – and in a way that is entirely new
I read once that we die three times. Once when our heart stops, again when our name is spoken for the last time, and finally when the last memory of us is forgotten. What a beautiful piece about not truly dying. At least that’s how I read it. Thank you.
This is a lovely piece Alex. I’m conscious that, although I shoot on film, I do not print. My images live on my computer screen. This has reminded me that pixels and LEDs can never convey the connection, emotion and story of a picture in the way a physical, analogue print can. Time to brush up on my dark room skills!
I'll be the first to admit that most of my images primarily exist as digital scans, too... although the physical existence of the negatives is SO important to me. It's become more important since I started scanning myself, too. Handling the negatives is a key part of the process for me.
love love love this. My grandparents left hundreds and hundreds of boxes of photographs that we still - even 20 years after their deaths - haven’t managed to get through. So many of them are pictures of people we don’t know, or of places we can’t fathom, or my grandpa’s thumb over the lens. They kept every single picture - the light leaks, the duplicates, even the weirdly blurry mushes. That collection says as much about them as the subjects did. My dad has gone the opposite way and has virtually no photos at all. Nothing on a phone or on film. I do wonder what I’ll be left with when he passes away. This is such a beautifully written and wonderful telling of photography and also your own experiments. Thank you for sharing it, I think we all need a reminder of how disposable photography has become after the disposable camera.
Thanks, Immy! And it's a shame that your dad has kept few photos. I think about this stuff a lot (probably too much)... what's left after the digital world evaporates.
Thanks, Alex. My first camera was my mother's box brownie (pre-flash, very basic version) but sadly I no longer have it. I did take several rolls of photos with it as a child/teen and I loved the scale of the negatives when I picked them up from the chemist shop (which ran an agency for one of the photo processing companies in the city). Your piece has brought back some memories of process, and stimulated me to dig into the photo box in our loft to check what if any of my brownie images have survived my move around the world, my mother's unsentimental approach to life, and the generic ravages of time; alas nothing. But my sister's loft has what's left of my parents' and grandparents photo albums so I hope to find something when I'm next across to see her. You're completely right that analog photography captures and conveys something quite different from digital - especially since smart phones.
What a lovely story Alex. I think it's all the better for there only being three clear pictures (and and only one of yours). That's enough now isn't it?
“In a strange way that means the people we love never truly die, doesn’t it? Perhaps a letter will one day be found, a photograph uncovered, that animates for just a moment that person in our minds once again – and in a way that is entirely new
I read once that we die three times. Once when our heart stops, again when our name is spoken for the last time, and finally when the last memory of us is forgotten. What a beautiful piece about not truly dying. At least that’s how I read it. Thank you.
Thanks so much, Adam – and I think about that quote often.
Absolutely.
Such an interesting read, thank you for sharing. I really like the light leaked photographs of the second roll - from another era!
Great, aren’t they?
This is a lovely piece Alex. I’m conscious that, although I shoot on film, I do not print. My images live on my computer screen. This has reminded me that pixels and LEDs can never convey the connection, emotion and story of a picture in the way a physical, analogue print can. Time to brush up on my dark room skills!
I'll be the first to admit that most of my images primarily exist as digital scans, too... although the physical existence of the negatives is SO important to me. It's become more important since I started scanning myself, too. Handling the negatives is a key part of the process for me.
love love love this. My grandparents left hundreds and hundreds of boxes of photographs that we still - even 20 years after their deaths - haven’t managed to get through. So many of them are pictures of people we don’t know, or of places we can’t fathom, or my grandpa’s thumb over the lens. They kept every single picture - the light leaks, the duplicates, even the weirdly blurry mushes. That collection says as much about them as the subjects did. My dad has gone the opposite way and has virtually no photos at all. Nothing on a phone or on film. I do wonder what I’ll be left with when he passes away. This is such a beautifully written and wonderful telling of photography and also your own experiments. Thank you for sharing it, I think we all need a reminder of how disposable photography has become after the disposable camera.
Thanks, Immy! And it's a shame that your dad has kept few photos. I think about this stuff a lot (probably too much)... what's left after the digital world evaporates.
Thanks, Alex. My first camera was my mother's box brownie (pre-flash, very basic version) but sadly I no longer have it. I did take several rolls of photos with it as a child/teen and I loved the scale of the negatives when I picked them up from the chemist shop (which ran an agency for one of the photo processing companies in the city). Your piece has brought back some memories of process, and stimulated me to dig into the photo box in our loft to check what if any of my brownie images have survived my move around the world, my mother's unsentimental approach to life, and the generic ravages of time; alas nothing. But my sister's loft has what's left of my parents' and grandparents photo albums so I hope to find something when I'm next across to see her. You're completely right that analog photography captures and conveys something quite different from digital - especially since smart phones.
Thanks! And it's always nice to be prompted to go through the family photos, isn't it? Hope you uncover some nuggets of gold.
🤞🏼
GREAT STORY ALEX... and well written.
Thank you, Leo!
What a lovely story Alex. I think it's all the better for there only being three clear pictures (and and only one of yours). That's enough now isn't it?
Vintage stuff in the best! Really enjoyed this.
Love this. Thank you.
Film remembers the little things long after we've forgotten everything.