I had a reunion recently. In the real sense of the word, I did see my high-school classmates and enjoyed listening to the way their lives took shape after graduation. Aside from [some] grey hairs, balding heads, [slightly] heavier waistlines, kids in and out of college, the many memories that circled back to greet us were good ones.
In another way, I had my own personal reunion with one of my binders of negatives. I found images from my days at L-C in Connecticut and decided to revisit them, though this time in a digital sort of way: scanning and rendering in post production. One thing’s certain, it’s much easier to scan and develop versus pour, measure, pour again, agitate, rinse, pour, fix, rinse, etc. etc.
The farm fields a la the soccer/lacrosse fields were still there. That pond is gone. I could’ve done a “before ‘n after” photo line-up, but decided, no, the before image has more meaning and substance. The “after” image—like others of its kind—looks too clean, even sterile.
What’s missing in this photography reunion is the ambiance, the nuance, the visceral energy of darkroom work. Your senses are so much closer to the image during development. You feel the smoothness of the paper when wet, made even more so with the addition of a wetting agent to promote spotless drying. The piercing smell of rapid-fixer reminded me to make sure the exhaust fan was on. The glow of the soft, red, safety light confirmed my presence in this other world, a place that made me feel safe, included and perhaps artistically complete.
This is a matter of opinion, but those negatives some 30-plus years old have held up rather well. Aside from dust marks, some scratches here and there, the emulsion has endured, and continues to do so. This is one of the things that I miss/love about analog photography. I can open a box, a binder, some glassine sleeves loaded with film and hold anyone up to a light source and immediately understand that there’s an image in front of me. I may not wholly comprehend what I’m looking at in a cognitive sense, but emotionally, there’s just something magical about looking at something that doesn’t need anything more than light, careful handling and a curious eye.
Carlo Centeno 