A number of years ago I wrote about photography and fishing, and like my fishing experience during my youth, photography has provided an important means to an end for over 50 years. I talked about how fishing was a means to an end. This was my special private world, void of expectations, but full of daydreams, fresh air, old timers to talk to while siting on the dock with my legs hanging over the water, snacks and soda pop, and if I was lucky, sometimes some “keepers”.

I also talked about being in another special world when I photograph, a world I have written about several times. This is my special world of seeing and just taking in life’s moments that are surrounding me as I walk, hike or drive.  It’s wonderful and another means to an end, just like it was when I was fishing, even if I don’t end up ever snapping the shutter or getting any keepers. Seeing the world and taking it all in, on your own terms, in your own time, is really special and an opportunity to be grateful for.

Another aspect of photography that is incredibly important to me is the many friends I have made by in person and through this website.  Interacting with others because of photography, discussing our work and the joy of doing what we do is wonderful, and all part of “my photographic life”. But what are really special are the friendships that come about and grow as a result of these interactions.

Last week I received a beautiful handmade New Year’s card from a new friend of mine. Inside the card was a handwritten message. Attached to the outside of the card was a small black and white abstract image of what appears to be ice forms upon the surface of a stream. Visually beautiful and sensitively captured; I just keep on looking at it!  It turns out that the photograph is a small cropped section of an 8×10 negative that I am sure has been contact printed. What a special gift and one that will always have a special place in my heart! Receiving it provided a perfect bookend to what has been great year in my photographic life and it will serve as a special inspiration as the New Year begins.

We live in strange and challenging times. Along with family, my dog Sparky, and the values and beliefs I hold dear, my photographic life and all the things that are part of it – especially the friends I have made – these are what I matter most to me.

I wish you all the best for a meaningful photographic life in the year to come.

The other day I was printing a bunch of proof sheets I was behind on and am now fully caught up on year to date activity. To be honest it’s fairly mundane work.  Once you set the proper enlarger height and aperture on the lens it’s pretty much automatic.  Anyway I was thinking about other more interesting things like a couple of stereo projects I am in the middle of trying to get done, like having a custom made turntable made after sourcing all the parts mostly from overseas cottage industry operations.  It’s all finally coming together here in Pennsylvania where a true artisan is making a 120-pound Pennsylvania slate plinth that the turntable will reside in and my two tone arms will be connected to (I know it’s crazy … one for stereo and one for mono cartridges!).  And that got me thinking about black and white film photography and my vinyl record and tube electronics obsession.

Guess what. I don’t own a cd player, don’t listen to streaming music on my computer, and don’t use solid-state electronics. Gee what a surprise … black and white film and darkroom printing along with listening to great records on a tube based system. Truth is I also own fountain pens. There is something about the whole black and white analog process that is special – from making the image, to the production process, and of course experiencing the final result. Yesterday, at my Photo Chat Get Together one of the fine photographer’s in the group brought a new albumen contact print he had made from an 8X10 negative. The process dates back to the 1850s and the results were stunning! As with other wet printing processes the final image is quite special. You can really see into the print because there is a real sense of depth.  And of course when you view a contact print made from an 8X10 negative that’s a whole other world all together.

I think about some of the greats … Adams, Weston(s), Strand, Cartier-Bresson, Smith … I could go on and on … and then I think of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Davis, Coltrane, Mingus, Monk, the Beatles. I started making pictures when I was around ten years old when my parents gave me a Brownie. Two years latter I put together my first stereo, and my passion for images and music has stayed strong for over fifty years.  But the common denominator for me is how I participate in and with photography and music. To me vinyl is like film … black and white in particular. And even more so than film, vinyl was almost on its deathbed when people finally realized that there was just so much more to it than digital. Kind of like film vs. digital. Now cds are almost extinct and more turntables are being manufactured today than ever before!  But like using film and making traditional wet prints, listening to my favorite vinyl records through tube electronics is the ultimate listening experience. Warm, lush, and if done right very dynamic. Yes, the whole audio thing as enjoyed by me can be a pain (e.g., using the right tubes, making sure the record is squeaky clean, being careful not to damage the stylus on the cartridge). But when I sit down and listen to a good pressing of a Beethoven piano concerto or Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue, turn the lights low and see the tubes glowing it’s sublime. Just like looking at that albumen contact print.

Recently I met a new friend for coffee (I actually had hot chocolate) and among other things we talked about photography. He used film years ago and still had an old Pentax K1000 sitting around somewhere. Now he was using a new Nikon digital model. What was interesting was his notion that in comparing film vs. digital and all that goes into producing the final result … a print … that the whole analog approach is very much like a ritual. After our get together I began thinking about this more, and after some cogitation I think he’s right!

Compared to the “digital workflow”, the analog process and the black and white analog process in particular really are ritual … a meaningful system of rites.  When you think about it there are many steps, some more mechanical and some that are truly creative but cannot occur without those mechanical steps. But there is something else that is so important … craft … and just as important, there’s a pride that accompanies one’s craft.

The many necessary steps, the creativity and the craft … the ritual of black and white analog photography takes place take over a period of time. Loading film into your camera, locating the subject and taking a meter reading, setting the proper exposure, framing the subject, eventually developing the film and proofing the negatives, examining proof sheets and hopefully finding a keeper or two, then after multiple tries determining the formula to make the best print you can, watching the image of that print emerge in the developer and finally completing all the final steps necessary to ensure the print will become a permanent statement of your vision.

At this point you realize you have made the best print you can of the image you first saw in your mind’s eye. The final result truly expresses your innermost feelings.  And now the ritual of black and white analog photography is complete.

If you are serious about your approach, there are two significant benefits of using a film camera. One is that using a film camera forces you to slow down rather than machine gunning off twenty exposures of the same subject just because you can.  The second benefit, and related to first, is that using a film camera makes your really concentrate on making every frame count, if only because you have a limited amount of exposures at your disposal.  In my opinion, a much better approach than firing off 500 shots during an afternoon.

But here’s the real kicker … combined with the above … if your your heart and mind’s eye are truly open to all the possibilities, using a slow and deliberative approach to “seeing” what’s out there really lets you experience life in a way you don’t normally do.

Think about it. You’re running around during your daily activity, too busy to take notice of what you’re missing. Or you’re stuck inside somewhere, then you go home to other responsibilities or you crash.

Instead of taking your free time and squandering it with missed opportunities, pick up your camera and load it with film.  Now you can think about the discovery awaiting you and get out there! And when you do, you’re going take a deep breath, slow down, and take in your surroundings and those that inhabit them as a meaningful and essential part of the photographic process.  And most importantly you’re going to experience life.