Before digital, there was Polaroid

In the old days, when you wanted a picture of something fast, you used a Polaroid camera. Anything from cheesy to cheesecake, Polaroid could capture it if you had about 60 seconds to wait. Just focus and push the button, and the whirring gears would spit out a newly developing picture just like a baby without an umbilical cord. And like a proud parent, you'd put the picture in a warm folding metal blanket, or under your armpit, which ever seemed more appropriate at the time, to insure uniform development of the image. Then you'd show it around and everyone would have a grand time. But after a couple dozen shots someone figured out that you just spent enough money for a utility bill, and the fun was over. Now, Polaroids are relegated to the realm of the artist or the nostalgist. Or homicide squad. But with the increased use of laptops in the field even homicide detectives are getting digital prints at the scene these days.

The prints here were taken with a Polaroid Spectra camera on Spectra film. Most artists use SX-70 film for manipulation, but since I don't have any SX-70 film, and it's getting harder and harder to find, I had to settle for something different. Spectra film does not lend itself as well to manipulation. And by manipulation I mean using sundry items to rub, push, poke, mash and smash the emulsion layers beneath the clear plastic sheet covering the picture. I've used spoons, and wooden and plastic sticks to manipulate the film. But the best tools I've found are my old anatomy dissection tools. They're blunt, multi-shaped, and made of stainless steel. I've separated many bones, ligaments, tissues and tendons with these fine instruments; and now they've found new life manipulating Polaroids. Who'd a thunk it?

Pixels or Pan-X

It wasn't so terribly long ago that I didn't know what a pixel was. Actually, I'm still not one hundred percent sure. But I still take pictures. And, it's been years since I could explain how light and chemistry combine to form an image on the surface of film. Even then I still took pictures. I composed, calculated, focused, and exposed. Mostly, things turned out ok. Certainly, having an expert technical understanding about how images form on film or sensor can only help improve your final product, but you can still make a darn good picture without it. The digital camera, and a billion megapixels have proven that in every basement pc and Wal-Mart in the world.

So, is everyone with a megapixel in their pocket and a USB cord now a photographer? Don't get me wrong, I love the great American "I want it now" convenience that digital provides as much as the next guy. But I really miss the smell of mixing chemicals at precise temperatures, and dropping dripping paper prints in a multi-step process, that, although I may not have fully understood chemically, I fully appreciated as the images magically appeared under the red glow of my safe light. In a sort of photomasochistic way I loved dodging, burning, and even spotting my pictures after having exposed, developed, agitated, stopped, fixed, washed and dried my film. I miss my Omega and Beseler enlargers with their many movable parts; the negative image projected on my easel as I made test strips and chose the perfect paper or filter for the best contrast or color rendition. I feel a little guilty about making the process so painless through downloading and mouse-manipulating my "captured" images to perfection. But not so guilty that I'm going to cancel my already ordered Nikon D300. I'm virtually drooling pixels just thinking about that Fed-Ex package sitting on my front porch in my "secret" parcel drop behind the rocking chair on my porch.

But, there are days that I pull out an old friend, like my Pentax Spotmatic, or Minolta SR-T 102, or Olympus OM-1, and sit and measure the light in one place, then another, zoom by walking closer or farther away, focus and consider depth of field, and then set the dials and rings to expose the film just the way I want. I have to admit that doing this every once in a while makes me think about the things that go into making a good picture. And that makes me a better digital photographer. I think everyone who owns a digital camera should also own a good old fashioned manual slr and do this exercise as often as possible. It forces you to think in a way that digital doesn't. Please, don't misunderstand me. For excellent photographers, as much thought goes into a digitally captured image as one that is film captured. What's six inches behind the camera will always be more important than megapixels; but with digital it's become too easy to substitute quantity for quality. The images here were taken during one of my manual exercises. I used an old Canon rangefinder with a fungus-laden normal lens. The shutter speed for the pictures was 1/40th and the apertures were "educatedly" guessed. Putting away all my high tech gadgets took me out of my comfort zone which, paradoxically, made me more comfortable with photography... again.