“You don’t take a photograph, you make it.” – Ansel Adams
I made some photographs the other week. I made them with paper, chemicals, and light.
It had been years since I’d used a darkroom, but with the acrid smell of developer and fixer wafted back memories of high school photo class, those first feelings of stumbling upon something new and wonderful. I rediscovered there’s something meditative about stepping into a dim room, entering through a rotating chamber that borders on spy movie material, and spending the better part of your day with your photo materials like a mad scientist in a lab, in passionate pursuit of desired results achieved only through time, patience, trial and error. Just you and your images – and another woman who happens to be using the room and is kind enough to refresh your memory on darkroom techniques.
Two years ago in Paris, my friend Jimmie gave me a roll of black and white film. Two years later, I got around to making some prints. Like opening up a time capsule, revisiting moments, reliving memories. The results will most likely serve as mementos of my semester abroad rather than pieces of fine art, since I’m no expert in the darkroom. But then again, hasn’t photography always been an experimental medium?
Busking in my favorite part of town, Montmartre ~
Exploring the city ~