Thoughts on the Question: Why Do You Still Shoot Film?

I get asked this question fairly often, and I have a well-rehearsed answer.

“The two things that really draw me to shooting on film are… the expense, and the inconvenience.”

After a courtesy chuckle and a few moments of small talk from whomever asked me, we part ways. And then I ponder why I ACTUALLY still shoot film.

I’m a 44 year old father of two, living just outside a major US city. I grew up in a small town during what seemed like a simpler time with a much slower pace of life. Music has been my life’s passion and the basis for my career, but photography has been my second most-consistent lifelong hobby. And I can remember the exact moment when it hooked me.

The Moment It “Clicked”

As a young child, I was fascinated by my parent’s cameras. One day, I was walking with my mom and grandmother by a flower bed on our property and my mom handed me “the good Minolta”. I wish I could remember the exact camera, but it was a late 1980’s Minolta SLR with autofocus which she carried around in a distinctly 1980’s brown vinyl camera bag (which I still have to this day!) They encouraged me to go take some pictures, so I looked around. Usually when I took pictures, I just blindly snapped away. But something about holding this particular camera made me stop everything and look all around. Slowly. I walked among the rows of flowers, taking in the symmetry, the colors, and looking for patterns or anything that struck me as interesting. The black Minolta felt solid in my hands, well-built, balanced.

Having been stung by a wasp earlier that summer, I kept a close eye on a few bumblebees that were gently gliding near me from flower to flower. Then I happened to watch a bumblebee land on a particularly beautiful bright red flower, and I instinctively pulled the Minolta to my eye. I had recently learned you could switch off autofocus, and I loved the feeling of rotating the lens back and forth. I got within a few feet and then rotated the focus ring until the bee snapped into focus in the viewfinder. Click. I took maybe two pictures, and then kept walking around.

Later that day when my mom got back from errands which included a stop at the one-hour photo lab, she handed one of the prints to me and said, “Hey, this one’s pretty good!”

I took the 4×6 print and was stunned. There in my hand was a well composed, perfectly-focused vibrant photo of a bumblebee on a bright colorful flower. The lighting was perfect. I had used a fast shutter speed which had stopped the wings. It looked like a National Geographic photo to me, which was the ultimate compliment that any photographer could receive at the time. I loved flipping through National Geographic as a child, always spending lots of time looking at the photos, and I had just produced a photo that I thought was every bit as good. Because I only had 24 exposures, I had SLOWED down, looked at my surroundings carefully, observed what was happening near me, and was in the right spot at the right time.

This was the catalyst moment for what became a lifelong love of photography. I jumped into digital photography the moment it became affordable and did that exclusively for many years. But as my adult life has become increasingly busy, I recalled those moments from my youth when I slowed down and really became a careful observer of what was around me. And I felt the urge to chase those moments again.

My Rediscovery of the Wonders of Film

My wonderful wife gifted me a couple of 35mm lomography cameras one Christmas in the early 2010’s, and that reignited my passion for film. Since then, I have racked up a collection of some of the most wonderful film cameras ever produced, and walking around in a modern world with one in my hand serves as a reminder to SLOW DOWN.

To this day, I shoot a tremendous amount of my day-to-day family photos on film. Rather than quickly pulling a phone out of my pocket and snapping 27 photos whenever my child does something cute and then going back to whatever I was doing, the film camera forces me to engage more and really pay attention. Often, I will inject myself into whatever is happening to get a better photo rather than just being a detached observer. Wait for the moment. Find the best light. Pay attention to the facial expressions. And the limitations of film have caused me to miss capturing perfect photos of a few cute moments, but at least I truly experienced those moments at the time. I was engaged then and there, and that’s what really matters.

Limits force creativity, and that’s especially apparent when you’re shooting film. The creativity has led to lots of experimentation, trial and error, but most importantly, true engagement in the world and with the people around me. Carrying an old camera has led to wonderful conversations with strangers that would have otherwise passed me by. I find that I spend more time outdoors if I have a film camera around my neck. Developing my passion for film photography has taught me a better way to observe the world around me: slowly, deliberately, and fully engaged.

Sadly, the photo of the bee on the flower has been lost to time so I can’t show it here. But the moment has stuck with me my whole life. And that’s kind of the whole point. In my next article, I’ll talk more about how my tastes in photography eventually shifted from landscapes and objects to more of a photojournalist style featuring people. I’ll talk about some early inspirations including two very different newspaper photographers from my hometown who let me tag along for endless hours, teaching me all the rules and then how to break them. And of course, I’ll talk about the one thing we all love: lots and lots of vintage cameras.

by Dave Shrewsbury

http://www.instagram.com/daveshrewsphoto

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