photography Richard Williams reflects on the passion which unites us without coming to any serious conclusion

Some thoughts on Analogue Photography

“Comparer la photographie numérique à la photographie argentique, on ne peut pas comparer un hamburger chez McDonalds à un repas à La Tour d'Argent” was written alongside a series of prints at the Arles photography festival last year

Roughly translated it says “Comparing digital photography to film photography is like comparing a hamburger at McDonalds to a meal at La Tour d'Argent”, and that’s how I feel about it too. We analogue photographers work in the dark, well in the "dim" anyway, with only a red light for company. Our hands have a slight but permanent smell of something resembling onions, our clothes often have strange coloured stains. We make contact prints, we do test strips and a morning’s work is often just a series of apparently random paper squares and rectangles. We ponder over the choice of paper, we mix chemicals, we have a preferred developer and we “dodge” and “burn” to create highlights and shadows where they didn’t really exist. Our partners often have little interest in what delights us. And like members of a subversive secret society, we seem to have our own language and we get together in small groups to exchange ideas, formulas or even small bottles of clear liquid. We look for books that are long out of print, and we treasure our one box of "lithable", but slowly emptying, paper, probably made by Kentmere or Agfa. As our brothers and sisters in the digital world drool over the latest shiny and wonderfully expensive cameras and lenses in magazines, we fantasize that we could find that elusive black 1985 Leica M6 in a junkshop. We pass equipment to those who are more deserving, or just better photographers, and when one of us has to stop working we try to ensure that the years of knowledge accumulated do not simply disappear.

We strive for perfection, not because we don't use Photoshop to cover up our mistakes, but because analogue photography is long and slow; and if at the end of the process the cat rubs against a wet print and leaves her hair on it - we start again.

Richard Williams

Hon Sec Analogue Group (and my cat is called “Tilly”)