ed's Photojournalism blog
Our editor leads a double life as a local newspaper photographer. The world of a photojournalist is an exciting one, with everything from shooting sport to being shot at by deranged serial killers forming part of the daily routine. He encounters some very strange situations along the way, meets some friends and always lugs his digital camera along to tell the story. One thing is sure, there is never a dull moment. Read his latest blog entry below.
Don't get me wrong, I love digital photography. I love the speed and versatility it offers. I love the creative doors it opens and I love the peace of mind created by reviewing pictures on the spot.
However, just recently I went through a set of old negatives, pictures taken in those dim days of 2002. I clipped them out of their folders and held them to the light. I set the rusty mental cogs in motion which translates how the inverted image would look in print and enjoyed the mystery of potential pictures suspended in a limbo of half existence and wept misty tears for the days of the darkroom.
Nostalgia apart though, there is a lot to be learnt from what we used to do in those analogue days, and they are lessons which are often forgotten in this avalanche of naughts and ones.
For instance, do you remember when we used to check the composition of the photograph before we pressed the button? Do you remember when you used to conceptualised prior to every shoot? You had no choice, you had to do this, because every time you clicked that shutter it was a penny out of your pocket.
To me, though, the greatest loss is not the forethought of those measured days.
No.
Our greatest forfeiture is the permanence of the image.
Negatives, fragile as they are, are hard to destroy. They may scratch, they may fade, but there will always be a latent image there, a clue of what it was, proof of a distant reality.
On my sparkling and marvelous hi-tech picture taking machine I only have to press two buttons to lose an image forever.
Two buttons.
And often, the only time I will ever see that doomed image would be on the low-res screen on the back of my camera while the wind is howling in my ears or I am in a hurry to clear card space so I can take another shot.
Now think of the days when you used a loop to take pains over every slide, looking for the flaw in the pattern that would turn the ordinary picture into an iconic photograph.
In memory of the immortal image, then, I have rescued one frame from obliteration and present it to the fleeting eye of the hurried beholder.