Dabbling in the Dark(room) Arts: Lessons Learned
My husband and I both work in higher education, and one of the benefits is being able to take most courses for free. Of course, the stars need to align in terms of course availability, work scheduling, permission, and so on. Needless to stay, those stars had not aligned for me in quite some time—and then did, ever so briefly, this past spring when I enrolled in an undergraduate photography course. Six weeks later, I had to drop the course due to work/personal obligations, but for those six weeks, I experienced for the first time the thrill of bringing my images to life—from the moment I pressed the shutter to the moment I saw the image emerge on paper. Sure, it was just chemistry and alchemy. But for me, it was magic.
Clockwise from top left: 1. My first roll, hanging up to dry—fingers crossed! 2. I have images!!! 3. First roll, all sleeved! 4. My very first contact sheet—I think I enjoyed making and seeing my contact sheets more than individual prints!
When I initially enrolled in the course, I had done so in good faith: I had my supervisor’s permission, we adjusted my daily schedule to accommodate the course time and make up the hours I’d be in class time, and I sketched out a rough plan for when I would 1) photograph, 2) develop, and, later, 3) print. In New England, daylight hours are mercilessly limited from December through March, and I found myself heading to work in the dark, leaving in the dark, leaving only my to complete all the work. I can do this, I thought; I had certainly had more demanding schedules and workloads in the past—but, alas, I was younger then. For a few weeks, I was making the schedule work…until I couldn’t. Soon, I found myself short on hours, heavy on exhaustion, and at a crossroads: staying in the course regardless of the physical/emotional cost or soaking up as much as I could and bow out at midsemester, knowing that my “no” was more of a “not now” and not “not ever.”
While six weeks out of a 15-week semester couldn’t teach me everything, I learned more than I expected—ironically, perhaps more about myself than anything else:
I turned 50 a few weeks into the course, and one would think I’d have come into my own power and voice by that point. But stepping back, saying no, setting boundaries, doing what’s right for me, etc. still felt like “quitting” when I finally made the decision to do so in March. However, I’ve also come to realize that for me, listening to that inner voice and quitting is sometimes usually the right decision,
I love making photographs. Love, love, love. And if forced to make a decision between spending my time with my camera or time printing, I will always choose the time with my camera, taking the image. Whether that’s the case with film images or digital ones, I’m happier making the image than processing/editing/printing.
Time is limited, and at this point in my life, I need to seek a balance between the wants vs the shoulds, the passions vs the obligations, my heart vs my head, joy vs all the rest. Thus, I’m constantly circling back to those first two points.
I will never forget the feeling of seeing my first roll of film come to life and knowing that I, not a lab, was responsible for it!
I’m not as fast or as nimble at certain tasks as I was when I was younger, and my brain hasn’t always been a willing participant in all things as of late (hello, perimenopause!). Needless to say, I need more time and focus to do just about everything these days, which didn’t always work in my favor this spring. That was a hard lesson for me: these days. I simply can’t will, rush, or force things to happen; I have to acknowledge and accept what I need and what works for me.
Contrary to my typical “I want ALL the options” approach to life, I found that constraints are rather freeing. In class, we were required to shoot AT LEAST one roll a week, use one film stock and speed (Ilford HP5, which was already a favorite of mine, rated at 320 rather than 400), one focal length (50mm), and a shutter speed of 1/60th or faster. I typically bounce between 35mm and 50mm, but I think I fell in love with the 50mm. If I wanted more in the scene, I zoomed out with my feet and stepped back. If I wanted a tighter shot, I zoomed in with my feet. Ah, simplicity. In addition, at least for those first months, all our shots needed to be taken outside, during daylight hours. However, a few of those constraints—namely, shooting outside and during daylight hours—were a bit tougher. Perhaps I would have been more successful during a fall semester, when New England experiences a bit more daylight—and fewer sub-freezing days!
I have immense respect for photographers who have the patience and skill to spend hours in the darkroom making prints. However, I am not (at least right now) that photographer. Going forward, my plan is to focus on taking and making images, developing the negatives (at least black and white) at home, and “scanning” those negatives with my camera. After that, we’ll see. While I treasure the silver gelatin prints I made in those six weeks, I’m not sure that’s where I want to spend my time and energy, but we’ll see.
The first set of silver gelatin prints I made for our first class critique. While they’re by no means perfect, knowing the time and effort I put into each makes these images extra special to me.
Part of why I wanted to write this post was because even now, months later, I feel conflicted about not having finished the course—a class I so desperately wanted to take and to succeed with. I think a part of me felt that I’d be more of a “real” photographer if I developed, enlarged, and printed my own images. Yes, I realize that’s bullshit. Now. But back in February, I’m not so sure I believed that.
Most importantly, I learned this: photography is what keeps me sane in this world. When this love and passion started to feel like a chore, I knew I needed to reevaluate. With so many other things causing stress and anxiety, my photography could not become one more source or either. And so, I gave it my all (and perhaps even more than what was healthy at the time!), learned a ton, and found my way forward. In the months since, I’ve bought a setup that allows me to scan my negatives at home, and (as of today!), after weeks of debating, the supplies that will enable me to develop my own rolls of black and white film. Stay tuned for exciting adventures on the horizon!