We bought a Polaroid Spirit 600 that had been refurbished by the The Impossible Project, who have saved integral Polaroid instant photography from fading into the history books. Initially the camera was just for a trip: we were staying in a house in Logroño, Spain with friends. There was even going to be a big party, so we would need lots of film. Everyone would leave with a physical artefact of our time together.
Photography has become ubiquitous in our society thanks to the smartphone revolution. But you never hold a photograph anymore. With analogue instant photography, you touch the photograph. It is a physical object, not a collection of bytes in a computer somewhere. In a world where photography is ubiquitous but photographs are increasingly rare, handing someone a memento of your interaction imbues that moment with a sense of permanence.
I’ve tried exploring street photography, but I’ve found the aggressive styles of street shooting that are so popular these days to be voyeuristic. I would only see the expressions of surprise and discomfort in my subjects’ faces after the fact. The photos I was taking made me feel bad.
But when you approach someone with a Polaroid camera, it’s different. You’re not attacking them with a giant camera, you’re meeting them with a quaint conversation-starter. The only problem is, when I take someone’s photo, I give it to them, so I never get to see it.
Still, I’ve used the Polaroid system for my softer form of cityscape street photography, and I love it.
We took our camera to Iceland with us, which proved to be very challenging. The development process, which takes a half hour, depends on heat – something in short supply in Iceland’s rocky landscape. We also had to contend with rain and scarce light; we only had a few hours of daylight.
Still, we learnt through trial and error. Mostly error, but it was alway fun. The imperfection of instant photography lends it an authenticity that is unique among photography mediums.
Every photographic medium I am aware of has been used to capture the humanity’s feline friends. We make a point to keep a Polaroid around the couch for when they behave particularly adorable.
Still dealing with the difficulty of keeping the photos warm while they develop, we’ve visited several parks in Amsterdam with the two cameras during Autumn. When we accidentally put the wrong film in a camera, we saw it as an opportunity to try something new.
I said no photographic medium is without cats, but it’s also not without selfies. In this Polaroid below, Ashley manages to capture a fantastic, rich self-portrait. Even without the ability to properly compose, she creates a compositionally complex photo that conveys feeling.
In this eerie self-portrait, I set the camera on a tripod and composed, leaving room for me to stand beside Ashley. I hit the shutter button and quickly ran to stand beside her during the camera’s ~10 second exposure. While we managed to stay still, the lights across the Amstel River appear to shine through me, but not her, making me look like a ghost. It’s a technique I want to explore.
Our trip to Spain was wrapping up and our friends began to leave. I was fortunate enough to spend time with a great team of open source developers, and we got a group shot – a token of our time together and a reminder of our friendship.