The debate over whether digital photographs are better than photographs produced in the traditional manner is still going on. Each emerging technology brings with it new issues and new trade-offs over the technology that is fading before it. Traditional print enthusiasts point to the durability and tonal gradation inherent in the silver based print. Digital photographers tout the immediacy of image/print availability via a whole host of new printer technology and they praise ability to be sure you have captured the image you want before you ever leave the scene. I am the first to admit that the speed at which a newly shot image can be presented to me on paper seems almost like magic. Almost. The trouble for me is that I have produced photographic prints the old fashioned way and it really is magic.

I started my "career" as a photographer 40 years ago as a sophomore working on the school paper at my High School. Things were a lot different (not only photographically) back in 1969. The school's Journalism Photo Department was well equipped with both a Speed Graphic 4X5 camera and a Yashica G Twin Lens Reflex camera. The staff photographers were also looking forward to the new Pentax 35mm Single Lens Reflex camera that was in the budget for the end of the School year. The lighting equipment we had was pretty state of the art as well. We were equipped with two large floodlights, complete with folding aluminum 6' stands, and a very nice Honeywell rechargeable electronic flash. As you can see, we were set to handle just about any photo assignment our editors could throw at us.

As I think back it is hard to imagine how we produced the quantity and quality of photos that we did without photo software like Photoshop. Not only was there no Photoshop - there were no computers! Windows were something you looked out of during Math class and apples were strictly pathetic bribes for teachers. You never knew how your photo session had gone until you had spent an hour or so after school in the Graphic Arts Department's darkroom. I can't help but marvel at discipline we had to exhibit as we measured out our chemicals and patiently waited for them to reach the magic temperature of sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. It may sound weird but I can still close my eyes and remember the subtle fragrance produced by the combination of D-76 film developer, Acetic Acid stop bath, well used Rapid Fixer, and four sweaty teenagers all crammed in an 8' x 12' windowless, vent less, light-tight room. And I can still remember the feeling of anticipation as we pulled our wet strip of celluloid off of the development tank reel and held it up to the double tube florescent light hanging above us in the "lab".

Although we all were reasonably expert at judging the quality of our results by examining the negatives fresh out of the final rinse, you were never really sure of what you had until even more time was spent in the darkroom making the final prints for the journalism staff to review and include in the paper. I have always viewed the traditional photographic print making process as the opposite of the negative making process. When creating the negative the film sits in a light-tight apparatus and is exposed to the subject (outside the apparatus with the light) by a shuttered light beam passing through the lens. However, when you make a print the negative is the subject and is placed inside a (somewhat) light-tight apparatus with the light. The negative is between the contained light and the lens which delivers a timed beam of light onto the film (the print paper) which is outside of the apparatus in the semi-darkness of the red colored Safe-light. It makes sense to me. At any rate, once you had exposed the print paper it had to be slipped into a tray of print developer where we watched, barely daring to breathe, as the image slowly and magically appeared before our eyes. Truly, a magic moment.

Unlike the practitioners of digital photography today who snap their digital photo and then examine the results just seconds later, we denizens of the darkroom witnessed the fruit of our labors hours, sometimes days, after we had snapped our shutters on the (sometimes) smiling subjects that had stood before our lens. A great print was something we had invested with a piece of ourselves - invested with sweat, anticipation and hope. We were truly and rightly proud of the prints we produced. For me, this amazing feeling of accomplishment is what has been lost and this loss is why digital photography will never be the equal of the traditional photographic process.