Paula Broom’s exhibit is showing at GKJE Gallery 1 in Sydney, Australia during the month of September.
Here, in her own words, she tells us a bit about herself and how the exhibit came about:
I am a visual artist and iPhoneographer, currently working on an exhibition and social media project that explores issues of biodiversity loss, extinction and conservation. In March and April this year, scientists at the Australian Museum kindly opened their doors and allowed me access to photograph threatened and endangered native species, mostly lesser known invertebrates from their collections, and ask them endless questions about their research.
The first species I photographed at the Museum was Thersites mitchellae or Mitchell’s rainforest snail from north eastern NSW. It has lost much of its coastal habitat to land clearing for development, with the small remnant areas of habitat still at risk of further urban expansion. In my image “High Rise Reverberation” (below), a composite image and one of my more figurative ones, I juxtaposed the snail shells with an image of a high rise development, one of the very drivers of its demise, in order to play on ideas of displacement and habitat.
The beauty of this next species rather eluded me, even using the macro lens of my olloclip: this was the endangered Pericryptodrilus nanus, or the Lord Howe earthworm. At threat of extinction, it is only found in the Mount Gower area of Lord Howe Island. It took a lot of playful editing before I succeeded in showing this species in a much more abstracted way, which I feel it needed for interest.
The beach hoppers (Microrchestia bousfieldi) from the South West Rocks area of NSW were a lot more interesting and detailed to look at. They feed on detritus in the intertidal zone and are removed from the ecosystem with seaweed harvesting and clearing, as undertaken on many Australian beaches. This threatens not only their survival but that of the seabirds and other species that rely on them. The image of these beach hoppers, “Shallow Grave”, has been edited to resemble an old fashioned “plate” from an encyclopaedia.
The image, “Fade Away” has one of my photos of a Corroboree Frog disappearing into a superimposed background map of its home range. The critically endangered Southern Corroboree Frog, the Pseudophryne corroboree from the Kosciuszko National Park, is dangerously close to becoming extinct in the wild, predominantly due to a disease called chytridiomycosis that is responsible for amphibian extinctions worldwide. When live, Corroboree Frogs are quite striking and instantly recognisable, having an almost stripped black and yellow pattern over their bodies: preserved in alcohol, they lose their colouring. Looking at their little, lifeless bodies, tags and all, almost stockpiled in the storage jars, I had the uncomfortable thought that perhaps there were more Corroboree Frogs, albeit dead, in those jars than in the wild nowadays. Surprisingly I found it more challenging producing imagery for these little critters than I did for the invertebrate species.
Sadly the survival of many species nowadays relies on the interventions of scientists. Invertebrates aren’t to everyone’s liking for sure, and indeed they are often much neglected components of our ecosystems that we fail to recognise. If a much cherished and striking creature like the Corroboree Frog is not immune from threat of extinction, you have to ask yourself what chance to our less attractive species have? I realised though from talking to the passionate scientists who devote their entire lives to researching these species that having a thorough understanding of ecology and ecosystems makes you aware that everything is important in the overall equation and that, in the end, looks aren’t everything. It got me thinking that if ecology was taught, much like English and mathematics, from primary school upwards, then perhaps we wouldn’t currently be causing the World’s sixth mass extinction ever.
{Grryo is hosting a challenge on Instagram related to this exhibition for the month of September. Visit the feed if you’d like to participate.}
What does a Grryo Christmas look like? We asked each member of the Grryo Lead team to share their heartfelt experiences…
Romina’s story
For me, so much about the Christmas season is about the sacredness of time. As soon as December arrives, I am hit with an avalanche of farewell dinners, end-of-year concerts and school functions, all while manically trying to buy gifts for family and friends. Time speeds up, it would seem, and I often feel breathless from the sheer momentum of it all.
As I say goodbye to colleagues, watch my children graduate to a new school year and write cards to loved ones, I subconsciously whisper my thanks and farewell to the year that’s passed and to everything that has been.
And then, finally, time slows down again, as the rush draws to a close. I savour the gifts of cooking, chatting and laughing with family and friends before I turn my eyes to the time that lays ahead: a brand new beginning brimming with possibility.
Christmas means time spent with the family. We sleep longer, close our laptops and phones, bake gingerbread cookies, play board games and relish traditional Christmas food. My kids, especially the younger one, are looking forward to meeting Father Christmas again on the 24th, Christmas Eve. Father Christmas lives in Northern Finland, in Lapland, in a place called Korvatunturi (Ear Fell in English), where he has his secret toy and gift workshop.
In December my world is dark with city lights and rain. Christmas means too much office coffee and the sound of the city’s traffic on wet streets. It’s the time of the year when I am all caught up in my job while days are short and daylight is sparse. It produces a feeling of abstraction, like being a detached island in a sea of hectic gift buying, baking, cooking, traveling and doing all things Christmassy. I enjoy watching the circus and love to dip a toe in when I join the merry masses at Christmas markets and dinners with friends and colleagues.
When daylight is the city lights, and tires on wet concrete is the soundtrack. @tonivisual
Out there we fight the darkness with lights and sugar. The cities wear their Christmas markets like a scratchy, favorite winter garment. Renditions of jingle bells fill the air and the smell of Glühwein (hot spiced wine), anise, roasted almonds and melted chocolate lingers wherever you go.
Girls’s night out on Christmas markets @tonivisual
It even seeps down into the catacombs of the subway stations where commuters are joined by herds of shoppers and people dragging their live Christmas trees up the escalators.
On Christmas eve, I leave my island and join my family for cooking goose, the big Christmas tree with real wax candles and cozy nights with board games by the fire.
“lone man in the subway station” – the feeling when the season’s circus is all around but you’re not in it yet. @tonivisual
Tommy’s story
Every Christmas is different. Family changes. People grow older. Children grow up. A wedding takes place as two lives become one. A grandson will experience his first Christmas. My fourth Christmas with Grryo will be my last.
Every Christmas is the same. Family gathers. Friends share the joys of the past year while at the same time we always find something new to celebrate. We all experience some childlike wonder even though our hair starts to gray. And the richness of story, which is the core of Grryo’s purpose, stays with us always.
Around the Christmas table, I try to remember what have I lost and what have I gained during the past year. I tend to get extremely bored in family dinners and given the melancholy of the days I’m usually the one searching for excuses in order not to attend -the excuses always fail and I eventually attend the dinner. I avoid shooting photos with a camera or a smartphone and I only take instant photos with a Fuji Instax. The prints find their way straight into a box and I check them again after weeks or even months. There is a certain weight in religious celebrations that I am always unwilling to carry. The only fun thing is setting some goals for the coming year. There is usually an overload of goals and usually around February they vanish into thin air. I can’t give you any good advice regarding setting goals, but if I had to, I’d just say set a single goal for 2018 and try to achieve half of it; this seems already enough.
Try to spend some quality time with your beloved ones. Even in the most boring dinners, there might be a sentence that will change you a bit. Use it as a chance to remember a day that for some reason everybody seems to appreciate. And remember your last year’s dinner and compare who was around and who might be absent. I am usually more happy about past year’s dinners than the coming ones. I remember the faces, the family table, the food. Last year it was the last Christmas dinner with the grandma; she won’t attend any of the future ones. Drink some wine, appreciate the presence of people and their presents too. And get slightly bored: this seems to me as the last shelter of creativity.
The word ‘Christmas’ fills our minds with snow, winter, Christmas decorations, joyful carols and various savored baked goodies. As it isn’t very Christmassy spirit on my side of the world, I choose to count my blessings as the festive season approaches and the year ends. Every year brings its challenges but we make the choice of whether we want to complain or appreciate our moments. Gratitude allows us to live in the present moment and continue to see the light by moving forward.
It has been a good year for us at Grryo. We have started to grow slowly but surely with beautiful stories that keep us amazed at the huge talent that exists. As we share our Christmas stories at Grryo, where all of us live in various parts of the world, we celebrate it by making use of the digital world. It is remarkable what technology can do when used productively.
The connections and relationships we have weaved together at Grryo, have made us feel like a family even if we have never met one another. I truly appreciate and value each one of them. It has been a great pleasure building friendships with all of them. Let us cheer for the jolly season and be hopeful for the blessings in the coming year ahead!
The Grryo team would like to sincerely thank you for making 2017 a great year of stories shared! Whether you wrote stories or read them – or both! – a very big thank you for your continuous, amazing support. We wish you safe and happy holidays. Looking forward to more of your wonderful stories in 2018!
The labyrinthine streets spread like cracks on the downtown area of São Paulo. I walk shouldering my way through the crowd, keeping the man in my line of sight.
The street I chase him on is older than the very foundation of the city. It already was a path crossed by animals and natives along the forest, before the Society of Jesus forged a spiritual connection with the Madhat Pasha street in Damascus. São Paulo was meant to be the Heaven’s Capital on Earth — so it’s written on the letters exchanged between the Jesuits. Truth is, it became a kind of El Dorado of Brazil. Drifters from all over the country seeking fortune on this piece of land, mostly failing nowadays.
I’m trying to make some sense of my woolgathering. It comes with the job, I suppose.
The job isn’t new — you’ve already seen the story. Maybe you even took a part on it. It all comes down to someone wishing something one can’t have.
I could tell my client exactly how the story ends, but I wouldn’t get paid for playing Sherlock. The job has taught me that seeing is important. People are drawn to suffering like moths to lamps — a kind of messed up script hardwired in our brains.
I’m not a monk to delve into the philosophy about it, nor a scientist to prove it. I tell what I see, that’s all.
I wait for the man to exit the restaurant. He’s oblivious to me, although I’m a little too big to ignore. He’s alone, without the briefcase. I know where he’s headed to, so I decide to go somewhere else.
São Paulo was known as “the land of drizzle”. Things have changed during the last decades — for the worse, if you ask me.
It’s Autumn, but it doesn’t feel like it. This temperature could be Summer in any northern hemisphere country. I wonder if the heat loosen the reins of civility here, making people less patient, less good tempered.
Regardless, businessmen march with their dark suits and bright ties on the shadows of financial buildings. They march side by side with the ever growing homeless population, ignoring them behind their sun glasses, puffing on cigarettes and checking their phones. Billboard men on every corner wear plaques advertising gold and diamond brokers, shady attorney services, the sale of doctor’s notes for paid absent days at work. They have blank stares and tanned, cracked skin because of the sun. I wonder where their minds wonder.
I see the woman where I already knew she was. It’s a matter of pattern recognition. People are much more predictable than they think.
When she gets tired of waiting, I follow her. I debate for a moment about my options here. I decide to play by the rules of common sense.
She walks like a ghost, dragging invisible anchors and lost in her reveries. I wait by the old phone cabin as she takes a turn and faces the sun, as if this path could lead her to some kind of enlightenment. Or maybe it’s just me, seeing her story as mine. Pattern recognition.
She enters a small store and leaves with the bag. She wanders through the streets until we arrive at the site of the city’s foundation. I remember that before the Society of Jesus, this place was a cemetery for many indigenous tribes. They met here to bury their dead and to negotiate. Death and contracts seems to be always hand in hand in a twisted way.
The Imortal Glory stands tall, on the top of the stone column, as a guide for the lost. I write the time and place in my notepad and take one last shot as the woman walks to the bus stop.
Then I leave her, hearing the whispers of my own demons feeding on my thoughts. I debate again about my options here.
There are certain rules I promised to never break again – which doesn’t means it won’t happen. There are things much stronger than promises in this world.
This city is a spawn of such things. So is this job.
From all the stories about São Paulo, there’s one that seems like a prophecy for the dwellers of these dirty streets. An omen I constantly see between the lines in every case, like a signature of Fate, although few know about it.
There was a Portuguese pirate living on the coast, about 40 miles from where the Jesuits would settle. He was the most merciless Indian hunter at the time, killing most of the men and enslaving the women for his pleasure. But things suddenly changed.
History tells he was not only converted by the priests — joining their mission — but became a feverish believer and preacher among the native Indians. One day, when the Society of Jesus decided it was about time to expand their influence, it was the former pirate who picked the shortest straw.
He left towards the unknown landscapes beyond the Society’s settlement and crossed paths with warriors from a local tribe. And you can guess what happened next. A rain of arrows left him bleeding to death under the blazing sun.
One of the Jesuits later wrote in his letters that “the Lord would establish His Church, now that He had bathed the foundations with so glorious blood”.
A city founded by religious missionaries, with a promise of Heaven, consecrated by the murder and the blood of a former pirate.
This job has taught me that promises of light are bound to hard shadows. All the contracts signed with Fate have secret dark pages we can never read.
I feel a lot like this city.
The phone rings on my way back to the office. I see the client’s name on the screen and I ignore the call, but I know he will be waiting for me. Moths and lamps.
I keep walking aimlessly for a while collecting faces and silhouettes. The man lights the cigarette but seems like confessing on the sidewalk. Another man sees when I point the camera at him and leaves with a suspicious look. For a brief moment I almost can understand what I’m looking for. What is the purpose of this, what’s the story I’m living in.
When I meet my client, I show him everything I’ve got. I explain the case using the words as knives, twisting the blades a little more on each sentence.
I take no pleasure doing this, don’t get me wrong. I’m another kind of monster.
The job had taught me that such pain is the closure the clients seek — and I’m good at the the job.
He pays me and disappears behind the door. I hope I never meet him again.
Looking through the window I see the sun vanishing behind the buildings. The last rays of light ignite the polluted air on the horizon with the most beautiful red and orange tones. People cast long shadows down there on the streets.
I close the curtain and shut off the phone as the day slowly ends. In less than an hour there will be just shadows — the city’s true calling.
I open the bottle of bourbon and wait for the night and its truths, relieved by the distance from the promises of the day.
Nei Cruz is not only a talented photographer: when talking of Nei it is impossible to leave out his generosity in supporting the community of Instagram photographers. Nei is a rare case, quite possibly unique on the web, where his generous qualities are probably more known than his photographic skills.
We have asked him to talk a bit of himself with us.
Tell us a little bit about yourself…
I’m not good at talking about myself, so here’s a profile written about me by my friend Ruth Efrati Epstein for Shootermag: “Nei Cruz has a passion for style and beauty in both his career and personal life. He brings this style to his mobile photography. Nei was born in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. He graduated with a degree in Art Direction from the Universidade do Estado do Rio de Janeiro. Desiring to perfect his craft, Nei moved to the United States 30 years ago. He has worked with several world-renowned photographers and his work has been featured and published in a wide range of editorial magazines, including Vogue, Allure, W, WWD, Elle, L’Uomo Vogue, Cosmo Girl, Lucky, Surface and Essence. It wasn’t until Nei got his first iPhone that he began to experiment with mobile photography. The arrival of Instagram turned his dabbling with iPhone photography into a passion. He is as committed to the mobile-photography communities as he is to his photography. Nei is an extremely passionate supporter of many photographers. Many lasting relationships among mobile photographers have begun with an introduction from Nei. In 2014, Nei became the Editor At Large for Shooter Magazine. Nei resides in Manhattan, New York City, and continues to work in the fashion industry.” By Ruth Efrati Epstein@80degrees
Did you study photography at college?
No. I studied Art Direction. However, I’ve worked with amazing photographers all my life.
What inspired you to start shooting and when?
I’ve always loved photography, but I always stayed in the background, art directing, until I got my first iPhone.
When did you decide to use just the iPhone for your photography?
Right after I got my very first iPhone. It was when the iPhone came out. To be able to catch a moment and edit the image all in one device was such a genius idea. I specially started taking more pictures when I joined Instagram.
When did you join Instagram and what does the community mean to you?
I joined Instagram during September, 2010.
I used to delete images as I uploaded new ones. It was completely different than what it is today. There was a wonderful sense of community and you could talk and like images with no limits. No blocking. I miss that time, but I understand that all things change, and we must adapt. It’s a business now. Ever since these changes have been implemented, I lose followers with each post I make, no matter how good an image is, or how good the content is of what’s being posted. But I keep coming back, because of the community. I have made so many wonderful friends. They’re so loyal, encouraging and supportive. Some, I’ve even been able to meet in person. It’s all about the people. It’s also my way of escaping reality. The best thing is to see the world, people and things through someone else’s eyes.
Which camera apps do you use to take photos on the iPhone?
I mostly use the native camera and native tools. I keep it simple.
Which apps do you prefer for editing?
I avoid over editing. If I use a filter, it’s mostly VSCO at the lowest percentage.
I also use Snapseed selective adjusting and sometimes FilterStorm. Again, I try to keep it simple.
Is editing a long process for you?
Not really. It depends on the image, feel and mood I want to create. Besides, I have ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder), and no patience to spend too much time on an image.
However, I do spend a lot of time on cropping and aligning. If the image will work, I know it right away. And I usually take one single shot per subject.
I was very surprised to read you use only iPhone even when you work. I’m thinking about a few gorgeous images on your Instagram account taken for a fashion editorial. How was the staff and the model’s reaction when you started shooting with a mobile rather than a professional DLSR ?
At first they are surprised and skeptical. But when I show the image after post production, which I do on my own iPhone, they’re happy and impressed.
In more than one occasion you have mentioned both on your Instagram and Facebook account, of your depression: it seems to be an issue you have been fighting for a long time. Nevertheless, there isn’t any sign of melancholy or sadness in your images, and this condition apparently does not affect your photography, as your images are so full of life and in bright colours.. Has photography been of some help in coping with your depression ?
Absolutely! It’s a wonderful way to get my mind out of that dark feeling. A form to “escape.” I think subconsciously, I try to compensate my depression with “happy images”, for lack of a better word. Depression is a serious illness. I’ve learned over the years how to cope with it. I wish there wasn’t such a negative stigma attached to it. Millions of people suffer alone with this illness. That’s a shame. By talking about it, so many people have reached out and shared that they too suffer from it and they feel connected. The reactions are mostly positive, but sometimes heartbreaking.
Scrolling your gallery on Instagram we see an elegant mix of shots of gorgeous models, street photography, and architecture. Can you tell us more about these three chosen/preferred kind of photographs?
Honestly, I like all genres of photography. Maybe it is because I’m an art director and have worked with so many brilliant photographers, each with their unique style. I have a special place for portraits. It’s a shame that this genre doesn’t get the recognition it deserves. Street photography is really hard for me, but I love the genre. I’m just not good at it, for lack of concentration.
I also love architecture. I tend to prefer clean and well cropped images for that.
What captures your attention when you are around with your iPhone and you are not shooting for work?
Anything. Art in all forms, a moment, a feeling, a person, the environment, movement and even music. Whatever catches my attention.
What and why do you look for when shooting: emotive aspects, reality, or just beauty?
It’s always a mix of all things. A moment, a place, a face, a feeling… I never know what will catch my eye. I “stumble” onto my images. I rarely prepare.
What is beauty, according to you?
Ah! The million dollar question! I don’t think you can define beauty. The cliché says that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” It’s true. It’s so personal! There’s beauty everywhere. Even in something others might consider “ugly”, “unattractive”, or mundane. It’s so hard to explain. I’m not good with words. There’s beauty even in tragic moments.
Photography is an opportunity to let us speak of ourselves in a visual way. What do you want to tell us about you with your images?
I have no specific “message.” Sometimes I publish an image I love, and no one gets it. But if I had a message, it would be for people to think, reflect and feel something. Isn’t that what art is for? To provoke thoughts and feelings?
What does photography mean in your life?
Again, this is a complex question to answer. Like any form of art, it’s my way to express myself. Without art and artists, this world would be a sad and lonely place.
Is there one image in your gallery you love most? And if yes, could you tell us why?
There are several. Mostly they evoke a feeling I had at a specific time and they remind me of that specific time. Also there are some images I love because of a certain “aesthetic.” It’s hard to explain. So personal.
Talking of photography, which are according to you, the most common mistakes a beginner makes?
I’d say images that are not aligned, not thought out, or composed. It drives me crazy to see a horizon that’s not perfectly aligned, for example. But that’s really just my thing.
Do you have any suggestions to give about photography?
Have fun and don’t be afraid of experimenting! Shoot what you like and what intrigues you!
Let me know more about your role in Shootermag.
Shootermag is the first photo magazine published in the world dedicated to mobile photography. I manage and select photographers for the features after carefully looking at their body of work. Shootermag USA was the first country-specific edition, published with only photographers from the USA.
Ruth wrote this about me:
“He is as committed to the mobile-photography communities as he is to his photography. Nei is a passionate supporter of so many photographers and he never fails to add a kind, empathic or supportive word. Through his deep commitment to mobile photography and the sense of community he has found, Nei became in 2014 the USA Editor At Large for Shooter Magazine.”
When talking of Nei Cruz, most of us as former AMPt members, or owners of an account on social sites like Instagram and Facebook, think not only about a talented photographer but also of a generous person supporting other peoples’ work. I think your encouragement has been and is for many of us, very important. What or who made you such a warm person, so communicative and outgoing ?
I’m not sure. I didn’t have a happy childhood. I wasn’t encouraged or accepted for who I was. I know how that feels, so maybe that makes me care about what people feel. Everyone deserves love, respect and encouragement. Maybe it’s just my nature and I was born with a caring personality. I don’t know.
It all started with a flea market find. I stumbled across a box of old cameras; sifted through them and picked a couple out, not knowing anything about them. At five bucks apiece, though, I figured that at the very least, they’d make good bookends. But then, I had an idea.
The idea was this: shoot a picture using film, shoot from the same spot using my iPhone, then attempt to edit the latter to look something like the former. After all, there are so many apps that seem to be designed to replicate film. Even the term ‘filter’, which is sometimes mocked due to its frequent use in mobile editing, comes from what was originally a film camera method. Anyway, I roped a couple friends into the adventure, and, many (many!) months later, we are ready to report to you, the esteemed reader, the results of our experiment.
Film photography is the only photography I really do. I prefer negatives to image files, I just always have. So there isn’t really any story to how I got into it, I’ve been lugging a camera around since I was a kid. The first was a plastic point and shoot, the sort you could pick up at any pharmacy in a hurry for cheap. It took AA batteries, it was bright blue, the lens cover broke and the photos it took were usually blurry. Basically, it was awful, but I carried it around all the time anyway. I made the jump to an SLR my first year of college, a gift from my parents. Since then I’ve experimented a lot with camera types and film formats. I wandered into digital photography a bit, at the urging of a friend, but didn’t stay long. They’ve always seemed like two different arts to me, only sometimes having the same goal. So I think that was the most challenging part of this project for me, taking one and forcing it to look like the other. Even though they look the same or, if I were any good at editing digital photos, practically identical, they don’t feel the same. It’s a silly observation, really, to most people the end result is more important than the process, if the photograph is good then everyone feels exactly what the photographer hoped they would feel. The process doesn’t matter. Well that and not destroying a roll of film so completely you couldn’t even tell there ever were images on it, but mostly the other thing.
Click on any photo to start slideshow. Order is as follows: iPhone shot, film shot, then edited iPhone shot.
{shot with an iPhone 5s}
{shot with a Nikon N80 with damaged Kodak Gold 400}
{iPhone shot, edited with VSCO, Mextures, and PhotoWizard}
{shot on an iPhone 5s}
{shot with a Nikon N80 with damaged Kodak Gold 400}
{iPhone shot, edited with VSCO, Mextures, and PhotoWizard}
I’ll have to admit I know very little about film photography, despite being the only kid I knew that had a SLR, a camera I used for at least 15 years. But looking back through my childhood film adventures, quantity seems to reign over quality. I do have a decent collection of daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, and tintypes, not to mention a good number of mid-nineteenth-century thermoplastic cases that are works of art in and of themselves. The fact that they secretly scream out to me in the middle of the night, “sell us on eBay; you only look at us once a year; you need the money!” just makes me want to tell them all to screw off, but the ability to date them to within less than a decade (hair, clothes, and case mat styles) makes my little historian heart happy, although I guess that’s the thing about photos, right? You can look at one and just tell almost immediately when they were taken (with some research, of course, unless you were born before 1839). So here we are trying to subvert this little bit of fabulousness that has literally defined the photograph in all its forms, formats, and styles for the past 175 years.
That said, once I was asked to contribute to this project, I at once jumped at the chance while secretly, selfishly, mourning what a poor choice Jeff had made to include me, the procrastinator of all procrastinators. In any case, I went once again to the old Minolta SLR. I replaced the long-expired batteries (yep). I turned it on. Nothing. I cleaned it; I shook it. Nothing. Next choice was grandma’s old 1970s Instamatic 314. I removed the even-longer-ago-expired batteries (yep). I cleaned out the corrosion. I wistfully thought about how many pictures of my childhood were produced of this little gem. Then I found out they no longer made batteries or film for it. Film is easy; batteries…not so much. Moving on, I at last decided to brave the romance of the Brownie! A great idea, I told myself. Just point, er, look down and make sure your subject is level, and click. I found a decent one at an antique store for $20. Of course, the original 620 film isn’t made any longer, so I purchased an expired roll of 1983 film and hoped I wasn’t wasting more time and money.
The second camera and film experiment, another that harkens back to the retro days of the 1980s (yeah, baby, yeah!), is, of course the Polaroid. During the 80s my trusty Polaroid and I spent many hours documenting my stuffed animals, my live animals, and, of course, my very own self animal. I took selfies. I used a stick. A real stick. If only I knew then what I know now, I’d be rich. Rich, I tell you! But then again, 11-year-old girls don’t think too far into the future, as a rule. Just put on a hat and makeup, grab a stick from the yard, stabilize the camera, and, you know, selfie. But having said all that, I never really enjoyed the way Polaroids look. Still don’t, actually. But because of our history together, I HAD to go there. Again, I bought some expired 600 film, but this time I declined the stick method in order to see if I could actually take a decent photo with this thing. I couldn’t.
What did I learn? There’s more to film than just film, and the least fun part of this was recreating it with the phone shots. Especially the Polaroids. And old photos are pretty damn cool. If I had a ca. 1860s wet plate camera…I wouldn’t know what the hell to do with it. I would probably sell it on eBay for a decent amount of cash. The end of this finds me at a point where I am not in the least bit interested in editing right now, and making these pictures look worse didn’t help. So I did spend some time making edits I actually like. So, in the end, it’s been cathartic I suppose. And I do like the physical act of taking a picture with a Polaroid camera. So, yeah, maybe I’ll continue that, just for shits and giggles if nothing else. Hell, maybe I’ll pick up a stick and use it.
{shot on an iPhone 5}
{shot on a Kodak Brownie with expired film}
{iPhone shot, edited with Analog Film and VSCO}
{shot on an iPhone 5}
{shot on a Polaroid}
{iPhone shot edited with Mextures, ArtStudio, Afterlight}
I think the last time I’d shot film was with a Kodak disc camera (anyone else remember those?) that my grandfather had given me. I was probably ten. I actually still had it, and tried it, but it was no longer working. Next, I tried one of the flea market finds–an old Ricoh–with some DIY damaged film. The pharmacy mail-order developer returned it with a note: “Film Received Damaged”. Duh. Then, a borrowed Polaroid camera from a friend, with some Impossible Project film. Success! After that, I tried out some water damaged film given to me, and then, developed by, our resident film expert. (that would be Megan, from above.) Finally, I had a handful of images I was able to work with. What did I learn? Well, for one, the random results that film will give you are really cool. I think, in fact, I’m starting to enjoy not knowing what I’m going to get, rather than trying so hard to achieve a particular look- it’s rather freeing! I’ve since had fun trying other films and cameras out, and I’m now constantly looking for thrift shop bargains. It’s like my photography journey has gone from one extreme to the other.
{shot with an iPhone 5}
{shot with a Polaroid, using Impossible Project 660 film}
{iPhone shot, edited with ArtStudio, SnapSeed, Mextures, Polamatic, Union}
{shot with an iPhone 5}
{shot with a Ricoh TLX Focal 1000, using water damaged bnw film}
{iPhone shot, edited with Snapseed and Mextures}
We’d love to see your film experiments, whether they are mobile phone comparisons or just straight out of the camera photos. Add the tag #wearegrryo_phoneyfilm on Instagram and share them with us.
