There are good reasons not to do it.
It's clumsy, it's long surpassed, it's ridiculously expensive.
In the age of binary digital existence - in-out, yes-no, nil-one - we don't need anything but the electric signal's linear response to photons and a touch of software magic mimicking good taste, do we?
Being able to pick out from the plethora of fancy simulations, perfectly calculated dehancings, perhaps adding some magic dust made by these notorious Hessenian dwarfs at the foot of Taunus... why to bother with technologies of yore?
It's clumsy, it's long surpassed, it's ridiculously expensive.
In the age of binary digital existence - in-out, yes-no, nil-one - we don't need anything but the electric signal's linear response to photons and a touch of software magic mimicking good taste, do we?
Being able to pick out from the plethora of fancy simulations, perfectly calculated dehancings, perhaps adding some magic dust made by these notorious Hessenian dwarfs at the foot of Taunus... why to bother with technologies of yore?
And yet, the urge is irresistible, the dopamin needs uncontrollable.
There's no denying it's foolish to expose film. It's expensive, it's demanding, with uncertain results - even volatile. Both speed and resolution suffer, while light intensity requirements rapidly grow.
One may very well try to oversee their actions with a frank, firm resolve not to let things get out of hand. Just try that damned thing, taste the poisonous delicacy of emulsion reactive to the slight touch of light from your safe heaven behind the solid walls of digital screens...
And yet. And yet.
And yet. And yet.
You try. Your resolve fail. Rinse and repeat, fail and fail again for the sheer, unmistakable, overwhelming beauty of filmic rendering of light. (And, whisper it, for the irresistible urge of dopamine spikes?)
Several months later, it's too late to simply get oneself rid of the stuff anymore.
***
Perhaps it's not hard to guess the roots of my generation's seeming fascination with so called "analogue photography". While not young enough to not remember film (as excited herds of contemporary analogue pioneers in their early twenties do), we didn't torment ourselves with darkroom anguish. We never knew the smell of Rodinal.
For us, film photography brings back the stench of youth, of the colourful, simpler world before the rise of information age. It reminds us of our first steps and first loves, of quirky fashion choices, family parties and vacations on the Mediterranean shores, of reflex cameras passed down among generations... It's the stuff of unfocused nostalgia, of idealized memories and longing for playful, carefree times of yore, long before the proliferation of CCD and CMOS sensors, megapixel battles, camera phones, VSCO presets and computational image generation.
A sentimental chain of associations and pleasant memories. Perhaps, then, isn't it what resonates?
A sentimental chain of associations and pleasant memories. Perhaps, then, isn't it what resonates?
But film photography brings more than just an expensive trip down the proverbial memory lane. It's raw. Not just in the physical, material sense - of raw material, a light sealed box (with some optional convenient glass) and abounding light. No, it's substance is raw.
It's inherently imperfect. (Especially Kleinbildformat.) Film negates our inner striving for perfection, built of digital mantras about exposing to the right and battling diffraction or misfocus. Image sharpness don't matter anymore, at least not that much. It's no longer our obligation to set the perfect colour balance - that's but a function of emulsion interacting with light, and inversion during scan or print...
The composition tends to became a bit lousy, due to the lack of modern crutches such as chimping, perusing essentially bottomless memory cards or even the electronic viewfinder (which can show you something approaching the final image rather that the raw reality in front of camera).
In a sense film photography is liberating. It won't let us focus on gear - or perhaps even the final image. There is little point in discussing out of focus rendering or edge sharpness of 35mm lenses or camera's dynamic range. On the contrary: film focuses our creative attention to the image matter. It nudges us towards more intensive approach to the present photographic moment, perhaps forces stronger anticipation and pre-visualization of light in and boundaries of the final composition.
While asking us to kindly embrace failure as either a chance or an opportunity.
Film seems honest and natural. It respects light, it's tones or colours, it's feeling. It respects our abilities - or the lack of.
***
Of course all of that is little more than a simple question of mindset. But such is - or rather seems - the nature of film, it leads to such mindset, nourishes it, nurtures it.
It's a folly, there are many good reasons not to put digital cameras away. And yet - there may be some profound reasons to be foolish.
Facing growing disillusionment with digital images since the sudden arrival of AI imaging, I found myself more and more distanced from photography. I started to question it's merit and the remaining reasons to continue felt empty. I lost the joy of capturing memories, feeling images to be generaly empty or fake.
Therefore the veracity of film feels substantial. Not just the physical aspect of holding the strip of negatives, but particularly the sincerity of response to light, of mood conveyed by it's colour and contrast. I learned to respect the frank, firm raw rendering - and since I started to use film again, paradoxically even my digital photography slowly returned to bring me joy and fulfillment again.
