Since I started getting back into photography a few years ago, I had the same chip on my shoulder about film snobs. When I was a young'un, my father was a photographer, and he tried his best to teach me the discipline of photography. I had a nice Pentax 35mm camera, but due to my general lack of patience, I pretty much sucked. Between that, and the constant expense of film, I gave it up, pretty much the same way I gave up learning to play the guitar after I failed to master Louie Louie.




Fast forward twenty years or so. After feeling like I was getting what I wanted from digital photography, I decided to give film another go. My pal Chris Haston offered to trade a beautiful Leica M6 camera for some artwork. Oh baby. What a a lovely camera to shoot with. I'm a Leica fan anyway, but the M6 is just such a beautiful little hunk of machinery... I love the way it feels, the noise the shutter makes, the weight of the camera. At first I was just having fun shooting with the M6, and being forced to think through everything, but I wasn't really in "love" with it until I got the first batch of film back. There is a certain quality to the light that, I must admit, you just cannot get with digital. Digital cameras are incredibly sophisticated pieces of technology that do amazing things, but the Leica M6 is such a beautiful piece of mechanical engineering, like an old Porsche roadster or a vintage Rolex Submariner wristwatch, that it becomes the pinnacle of its type, the perfect object that all others aspire to be. Using the Leica is a unique pleasure all its own, independent of the results... but oh, what results! (when used properly of course. Still working on that!) It really is something magical.

I'm afraid I might be turning into a film snob.

I fell in love with this obsolete technology all over again. The photos just have something about them, an instant nostalgia, that is incredibly compelling to me.



Using this big clunky old camera creates an interesting relationship with the subject, too. It makes the whole thing seem more official somehow.



Shooting naked and mostly-naked girls with this old camera makes the resulting photos somehow more dirty, like a secret stash found in an uncle's sock drawer.



After I scan every photo, I put them in an old cigar box. Eventually the box will be full. At that point, I will put it in a closet somewhere in the house and forget about it. Maybe someday in the future I will find it again.

I visited the set of "Sugar Town," the latest Vivid Alt Film from Dave Naz.



Dave is doing a 70's-period piece, and asked to use the Grocery Getter in a (non-sex, I was assured) scene. (those are the original dealer-installed seat covers, after all.)



The shoot was in this beautiful, slightly-run-down Art Deco building south of downtown.



The interiors were amazing, you could shoot a perfect film noir in those dark hallways.



Black and white is a must in these situations, of course.



Dave's girlfriend, the lovely Ori, was there, and I talked her into doing a little shoot in the empty rooms upstairs.



The less-than-Martha-Stewart atmosphere made a nice contrast to Ori's natural beauty.



She has such a classic, timeless look. I understand why Dave shoots her nonstop, and I'm envious!

I recently dug out my old Polaroid Pro Pack camera, and I've been dragging it along whenever I shoot. The B&W (Fujifilm, sorry Polaroid!) also creates instantly nostalgic photographs.



All in all, a lovely way to avoid painting for a day.