Developments

It is too hard to take pictures now because it is too easy.

For me the rise of the digital camera might mean better and more creative photography but marks the decline of the photo. I have treasured photos, not only of my own childhood but also of family and ancestors which, although gently fading, are at hand to be seen. In comparison I have over a hundred photos from my last holiday alone either still on my camera or filed away on my computer hard drive ready to be accidentally deleted at a moments notice.

The camera I remember the most from my childhood was a black and silver Kodak 44A camera that belonged to the family. All the photos from the first ten years of my life came from that camera and every one of them that was kept beautifully captures memories and places in the clearest and brightest colours. It produced large, square prints similar in size to a Polaroid snap, simply framed with a white boarder.

For my eighteenth birthday I received what I considered my own ‘proper’ camera. It was a Canon with zoom lens, focus settings and all manor of knobs and levers. Also it was a single-lens reflex; basically this meant that looking through the viewfinder you saw by way of a mirror through the lens and could focus and centre as you saw fit. Prior to that I had had a cheap 'flat' camera where the viewfinder was positioned miles from the lens and meant that if you were too close to someone you ended up taking a photo of their ear. The other thing I loved about my ‘proper’ camera was that it had a timer so I could occasionally appear in my own pictures, although I often did this anyway by taking moody shots in mirrors - I was a teenager still after all.

I would very quickly use a roll of film, alternating between colour and black and white, and quickly have them developed. From a roll of thirty-six I would be happy to get half back as what I considered to be good pictures. I remember Boots went through a stage of putting stickers on prints which they deemed to have “gone wrong” with helpful hints on how not to make the same mistake next time. These were quickly pealed off and discarded but the picture was kept; blurry doesn’t matter if the memory is in focus. Packets of prints were indexed and kept, but the good stuff when into albums or fames or up on the wall. It was this camera which chronicled much of my student life and which today provides much reminiscing (and embarrassment) on Facebook.

During my limited acting career the camera received less and less use. Finally the advances in technology, coupled with the change in circumstances brought about by parenthood, saw me finally abandon my camera for something more digital and portable. Although I have managed the occasional shot that I’m really proud off, and keeping some memories in place for the future, I still missed photos. My only solace these days is thanks to a little App called Instagram. It takes single, square shots which you can filter to give it that old school, faded look and can even a white boarder – yester-year revisited!

However, on a trip to Norwich recently we saw a shop full of old cameras, mainly for display but with some which I guess still worked. Nestled amongst them was a Kodak 44A and I was very tempted to take the full step back in time. But I was amazed and excited when my daughter on seeing them all declared that what she wants for her next birthday is an 'old' camera that still works, “Something to take real photos”. She’s nine years old and looking at what she has already achieved photographically on phones and little digitals I am expecting great things.

Looks like the future of capturing the past might be safe after all…

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