the future is analogue

For years, I have been fascinated with analogue photography. Having grown up mainly in the digital age, I first couldn't understand why my parents and grandparents kept thousands of photos in clumsy books which only occupied space when you could also buy a digital camera and conveniently store your photos in one folder on your computer, taking up only a couple of megabytes. Moreover, I believed that nobody would ever be interested in my behaviour during Christmas 1995 or my cousin's birth. Well, my whole outlook on life has changed immensely since then, and so have my thoughts on this topic. Nowadays, I find the analogue way of taking photos more intriguing than ever. I don't exactly know why. Maybe because it's like a fortress in the digital world, maybe because it's more adventurous and daring than digital photography - you never quite know what you get as a result.

The first analogue camera I used was a Polaroid. Although the production of films has been discontinued in 2008 because of Polaroid's bankruptcy during the financial crisis, the ambitious Vienna-based "Impossible Project" (http://www.the-impossible-project.com) bought an old photo factory in 2009 and re-started the production on a private basis. It's gotten quite big and somewhat famous by now, and I support their mission. I also like the films that they produce, but unfortunately they are really expensive. Hence, I've been looking out for a new way to express my analogue desire lately.
The answer came in form of another Vienna-based company called "Lomography" (http://www.lomography.com). Founded by students in the 90s, the aim was to revive old analogue cameras like the Lomo LC-A from Russia or the Diana from Hong Kong. The latter was produced as an all-plastic toy camera in the 60s and sold for merely $1. It quickly vanished in the 70s after no initial success, but had its great return in 2007 when the Lomography Society started reproducing and distributing it all over the world. It has a loyal fan community which is growing day by day, and since a couple of weeks I am also a part of it.

The Diana F+ which I'm using is more than just a camera. It's a friend to visualize your mind. Of course the camera itself is not as good as its DSLR equivalent. Before, during and after the shot, you have no idea what the camera did, let alone how your pictures will turn out. One wrong move, one wrong shutter could mess up the whole picture. However, you shouldn't see these characteristics as flaws. Consider the following statement by expert Mark Sink: "Diana works because it lets you have happy accidents. Accidents are the key to success. One has to learn to let go and fail. We live too much in a failsafe world."

It is such a pleasure for a perfection-orientated person like me to just let go. Instead of bothering about the wrong lens setting of last night's wonderful shot, I just replace my anxiety for excitement about this happy accident.

In general, I believe that taking photos with an analogue camera can change your view of the world. You develop a sense for the little things, the details, the beauty in everything. Running through the streets shooting thousands of digital pictures is easy. Producing amazing shots of people and situations with analogue means is not. Don't get me wrong - I am not trying to condemn digital photography; I also shoot pictures in a touristy way with my digital camera. Analogue photography, however, is more like an upgrade to my photo experience. Although it is obvious that a digital picture costs far less than an analogue one, a Diana shot tells a hundredfold of the classic "thousand words" that a normal shot does. There's so much more in a Diana image than meets the eye. Every picture has a store like no other; every picture is unique. It's less of a photo and more of an artwork.

However, one last issue remains: skimming through the user galleries on the Lomography website, I feel intimidated. They are already so many incredible shots out there - how should my pictures ever live up to that myriad of breathtaking pieces of art? That's also a general life question I pose myself from time to time: of all the 7 billion people in the world, will there ever be a chance for me to be of any significance? Humans create so many amazing things; how should I leave my footprint? In both cases, the answer seems to be like this: just try your best. Your actions are definitely of significance. You are of significance. Anything and everything you do will affect the world in some way. Keep on trying.

I will leave you with the following Lomographic credo: "be fast be open-minded, be communicative". If you are interested, the digital environment hosting my analogue work is found at http://www.lomography.com/homes/SmartMart - it's still in the works, but will be filled with hundreds and hundreds of pictures to come.

So long,
Martin