Back to the roots

10/09/11

Five months ago I wrote an article about the pros and cons of film and digital, and how I might have to exclusively shoot film in order to differentiate myself from the ever-growing masses of emerging “new talent”, to stand out from the rest, and to have a future as an artist. It's a step I've finally taken and I am now entirely analogue, as it were. I love it. In fact, I don't think I've ever loved photography more than I do now.

It was undoubtedly a hard decision to make, but not one I've regretted or are likely to regret. Over the years I've spent thousands and thousands of pounds on top-notch equipment, only to realise that I was buying into nothing more than a craze, really. Digital was becoming immensely irritating, frustrating and – ironically – difficult. A rat-race led by people who less and less appreciate photography as an art form, and instead are hell-bent on turning photography into a consumer item. As far as I'm concerned, they've succeeded. Congratulations.

I was becoming increasingly cheesed off with digital photography and its, what are for me, primarily negative aspects. I just didn't want to be part of this anymore. Digital is quick, convenient and easy. It's getting cheaper by the day, thus more and more accessible, and delivers instant results and gratification. But digital also seems to afflict people with a sort of compulsion, or obsession, to take photographs of everything and anything. This then is often paired with an obsessive craving for recognition: please look at my website … please like my images ... please, please tell your friends! All in the hope, no doubt, that this is going to get their names out there and make them famous photographers. Are people really so naive?! It's clearly some sort of bedroom-celebrity culture phenomenon we're dealing with here, bordering on psychosis, and it worries the hell out of me, frankly!

We've clearly reached the point where we don't enjoy, appreciate and value photography (or art in general) anymore, we merely consume it.

The iPhone, for example, and the fact that cameras on mobile phones get better every day, certainly doesn't help in this matter. You don't need to learn how to become a photographer anymore, or have particular talent. In fact, I firmly believe that these days talent counts for less and less in our consumer-driven world; the gear does it all for you now. I, too, used to believe that it's the photographer and not the gear that makes an image, but now I'm not so sure anymore.

In the wake of all this madness, more and more people seem to forget why they're taking photographs in the first place, or what photography is really about, it just becomes compulsive behaviour. This ultimately means the more images you produce in this compulsive, mindless fashion the less meaning and value your work has. Don't get me wrong, I'm not completely condemning things such as the iPhone – it has its uses in today's world – but no-one can deny that we're now living in a completely digitised world that is swamped with billions of images on a daily basis, most of which are irrelevant and have little or no value. Disagree with me if you like, but in my view photography – especially as an art form – was not meant to be this way.

I don't know where the digital age, and in particular digital photography, is taking us. Everything has to be faster, sharper, crisper, better, and I'm not sure where this is supposed to end; I'm not even sure it was ever meant to be this way. I've come to the conclusion that it's plain nonsense, a gimmick, an obsession, and I refuse to be part of this any longer.

I've completely stopped doing commercial shoots a few months ago. The last commercial shoot I did was stock for Alamy, but I no longer do that either. I've cancelled my account with them. Now, I only do fine art and the odd portrait when I feel like it. In other words, I only shoot what I want now and, more importantly, when I want, and what's more, I feel miles better for it! It feels a lot like a huge weight has been taken off my shoulders. Digital was becoming a chore, a pain in the arse, nothing more. Sure, I'll miss the money I'll lose by not doing commercial shoots anymore, but luckily I don't depend on that money, so it's okay. Besides, being free of this “digital obsession”, and because of this having partly rediscovered my love for the art of photography, means a damned side more to me than money. What I won't miss, however, is having to constantly battle with clients who can't or don't want to pay for services. Now people pay me first and then receive my services, for example in the form of top-notch quality, signed, limited edition fine art prints.

So, how did all this come about then? As I mentioned in my earlier article, I own a Hasselblad 503CW (and now a lovely 500CM from 1976) that I had never given much thought, or used much, since commercially the use of film is not really viable anymore and digital was far to convenient. Some time ago, however, I dug it out again and shot a couple of rolls of Kodak Tri-X medium format film, or 120 film, as it's also known. Just for a laugh. All I did was take shots at various settings of things around the house. I didn't even use a light-meter as I didn't have one. When I got the negatives back a week later I was gobsmacked. Here I was sitting on thousands of pounds worth of professional, all singing and dancing Canon gear, and state-of-the-art software, and none of it was able to produce (or reproduce) the incredible organic feel and timeless quality of an old-fashioned, completely mechanical camera and a roll of film for less than a fiver. Needless to say, it seriously made me think. I started to look into Hasselblad on the internet, and the one thing I couldn't ignore, when looking at examples of other Hasselblad users, was the fact that I could often tell if an image had been shot with film or with a digital camera.
I shot more rolls of various types of film (mostly Kodak and Ilford) and seriously fell in love with this medium. In fact, I seriously fell in love with photography all over again! Whereas before I seemingly enjoyed it less and less every day, I was now happily shooting roll after roll of 120 film, day after day, and getting as excited as a five-year-old at Christmas about getting my negatives back and seeing the results.

The Hasselblad is in a league of its own. It's a cumbersome, awkward and very slow camera, but this is exactly it! This is how it was meant to be! Shooting this way is something completely different; it's a completely different way of photography. I have to take my time, slow right down, think and then think again; think about the light, the composition, framing, angles – everything – and in the end I'm rewarded with something beautiful and tangible, something I can touch and feel (and later put in an old-fashioned box). You take less images and you put a lot more thought and consideration into the ones you do take!
I can scan the negatives and end up with resolution equivalent to that of a 50 or 60 megapixel digital camera. There are serious emotions involved here, too: excitement, anticipation, enthusiasm and dedication; not knowing if any of your shots turned out the way you wanted, and not being able to wait till you get your negatives back; not to mention the excitement one must feel if they're doing their own developing, something I can only guess at.
I found that I approach film photography in a much more motivated and dedicated way. Most importantly, however, I can make extraordinary prints from it with incredible detail that ooze class and quality, and automatically have a feel of much higher value simply because they were shot with film; even more so, in fact, if shot with a camera like a Hasselblad and lenses as superior in quality as those made by Carl Zeiss.

But film is expensive, make no mistake! On average I spend around £100 a month on film – 120 film and 35mm film. Then they need to be developed. That costs another fiver per roll or so. You can do the maths yourself. But, you know what? I don't mind. Not a bit. Because for the first time since taking up photography I feel like a real photographer; it feels like I'm creating something really special, unique and valuable. This has a major impact on my attitude and my whole approach towards photography, and that in turn has a major effect on the work I produce – positive impact!

So, a couple of weeks ago I finally sold all my digital gear, except for my Lumix Micro FourThirds system, and invested the money in another Hasselblad and a bag full of Carl Zeiss lenses. I'm a happy man.

Discovering the beauty of film photography was nothing short of a revelation (especially since I started with digital, like most photographers nowadays) and I had to realise that for me personally this is the only way to go. Now and in the future – especially in the future. In fact, it actually feels like I've discovered the real photography, and that so far with digital I've been merely imitating photography (isn't that technically what the iPhone with its hipstamatic app does?). You could say that I've seen the light and that I'm now on the path of righteousness. I am reformed.

As far as I'm concerned, this is how photography was meant to be, and I'm only too happy to be one of only a handful of artists (in the grand scheme of things) creating few yet meaningful and valuable artworks, as opposed to one in a sea of millions of nobodies, all struggling to keep their heads above the water, creating masses of terabytes that end up largely unseen on some dusty hard-drive, and that most people on this earth don't give a shit about. What's more, I'll do my damnedest to make sure the medium of film doesn't die.

Is digital doomed? I don't think so. It's simply too convenient in today's world, and we just couldn't do without it anymore. But it will have to change and adapt, as most things have to. We can see that already in the Micro FourThirds System and the fact that the megapixel race has come to an end. And what about film? I used to think it was, but now I seriously doubt it. There will always be photographers who shoot film, and there may well be more of those in the future, as more and more serious artists realise that digital is not all it's cracked up to be.

I don't know where digital is heading, or what's gonna happen to film in the long run, and I'd hate to speculate, but what I do know is this: digital is not the answer. It's not the be all and end all, and it's most definitely not the Holy Grail of photography either … certainly not for me.

(Copyright ©2011 Oliver Rauer)