Lately, I have been stepping back into the analog world. What do I find there? Well, there is a completely different tangibility—if that’s the right word. Imperfectionism, a slightly rougher expression compared to the digital. But I find it emotionally exciting. It touches something deeper than just the surface. After all, I have long believed that I am willing to accept reduced technical quality as long as there is a good amount of nerve in the subject.
There are plenty of choices here as well, of course. I’ve dug out some of my older 35mm film cameras—an Olympus OM4TI and a Nikon FA. I’ve also brought my father’s old Koroll Bencini back to life with 120 film. And I have even loaded a roll of film into my mother’s old aunt Gydny’s camera, a twin-lens Italian Ferrania, also using 120 film.
Yes, I’ve also picked up a couple of “new” cameras for this analog journey—a 35mm LOMO LC-A and a few Holga 120 cameras. These last ones produce a very distinct style, which I find fascinating, though perhaps an acquired taste. The images take on a soul of their own with these plastic toy-like cameras. It’s a unique aesthetic, and there is a certain soul in it—if you choose to see it. Some might argue that using the word quality in this context is completely wrong, but I choose to do so anyway. Because I’m charmed—truly. It resonates with me in a very special way.
As a small anecdote about my late father’s camera—it was produced in Milan, Italy. In the first week of April, I’ll be heading to Milan to meet Michael Ackerman, my mentor in a workshop program that started in April 2024. So, I’ll be taking my father’s camera back to its origin in Milan and shooting a roll of film purely for nostalgia, in memory of my father and his camera—the very one that planted the first photographic seed in what has later become my all-consuming passion in life.
Long live analog!