On The Psychology of Going Back In Time

Bird of Paradise 2018

Nostalgia is an odd thing. People are always looking back to the past with a greater longing than it probably deserves. Memories are funny that way. Along the way though we will sometimes re-discover old technologies, obsolete techniques, and outmoded ideas and repackage them in a modern vernacular. This can be pretty compelling creatively, and sometimes just a boat-load of fun. Chalk it up to modern times.

I’ll give you a couple examples: in an age of online streaming, where we have at our fingertips (and ears) all the music that has ever been recorded, people are returning to vinyl records and analog turntables. I had a neat old sound system like that once, and those records did sound incredible until I got them all scratched up. And cars. Cars are absolutely amazing now, basically computers on wheels, but the demand for those old muscle cars of the 60’s and 70’s is off the charts. Not that I wouldn’t look cool cruising around in a ‘71 GTO, mind you.

And photography? Well, we’re just as susceptible to the whims of historical way-backs, and we’re actually making a thing of it. I’m talking film. Amidst the ubiquity and accessibility of digital technologies, a lot of photographers, genuinely creative and passionately devoted, are loading up old film cameras and exposing rolls of honest-to-goodness actual film. Every kind of film, be it black & white or color, had its own unique personality and quirks, which at times could be exasperating. These were mated up with our old camera and lenses which, come to think of it, had their own odd personality quirks, too. The combination can make beautiful images, distinctive and personal, which really can’t be reproduced with a digital camera — even ones with so-called “film” settings.

Tulips 2014

Believe me, I loved those days myself. With my Nikon (I owned several) I shot the ever-so-lovely Kodachrome, and even more Ecktachrome which we processed ourselves. Thousands of rolls, without exaggeration. Black & White I mainly shot in medium-and large-format, and even lugged around an 8x10 Burke & James for a while. I started getting disillusioned when it became harder and harder to find the good high-silver black & white printing papers I had grown so fond of, and even some of the black & white films I liked seemed to loose a bit of their robustness as manufacturers tweaked and reformulated them. And then digital photography dropped into my lap like a gift from the gods — well, it was because my job required it, but you get the idea.

For me, photography is no longer a commercial enterprise, it is entirely a means of self-expression. The digital processes I now use give my imagination free reign. The technology keeps up with my vision in ways that the film and darkroom could not, and I’m just astounded by that. I’m seldom disappointed, other than in my own limitations and flaws, which are admittedly numerous. And yet I find myself feeling a sense of gratitude towards a new generation of photographers who are finding their voice in an analog world — and even some of the old guys who never completely left it. (There are even a surprising number of artisans going back further still, to collodion wet plates, carbon printing, even daguerrotypes, but that’s a discussion for a later post.)

But I don’t look backwards; I’m neither emotionally nor technically equipped to do that. I’m not looking forward, either: I don’t let technology drive my creativity. I’m happy just to look inward, see what’s there, and use whatever camera happens to be nearby to get the juices flowing. Nostalgic I ain’t.

But I would totally rock that GTO.