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I've no beef with Sr. Meyer making the argument outlined above that one should use whatever allows the final image to be created as faithfully to your vision as possible. But I would, respectfully, disagree that to use an old process is to "look forwards through a rear-view mirror". By that argument no one should ever bother painting as there are better, easier, quicker ways to record a scene. I'm happy to adopt a live and let live approach. Whether it's oils, watercolours, film or digital, make your picture, enjoy doing it and try to give a little pleasure to others who look at the result.But I struggle with why I use film to take those photographs. I don't think film is better—whatever that might mean in terms of resolution, contrast, dynamic range, colour fidelity etc, but it is more authentic, at least, to me. That's because I grew up with film, and doing it in such an easy way as modern digital offers really feels like cheating to someone with that background. Digital is easier, and probably often technically better. So the question remains as to what I am doing and why? If the final image is everything, then I ought to be using digital to get perfectly exposed high-resolution pictures very easily. Oh, I remind myself about all the fantastic cameras that I can use that are now relatively cheap, and it's true that I revel in using them—there's nothing like the satisfaction of a Rolleiflex, Hasselblad 500, Leica M2 or even any example from the pinnacle of the manual SLR era. But what of the process? A lot of satisfaction comes from doing something difficult correctly (the downside being those moments like yesterday when I developed four rolls of 35mm in one tank, but only had two Hewes reels, and the effing-awful bent Taiwanese reels destroyed several negatives by letting adjacent film surfaces touch—perhaps I ought to include that in the pleasure of film as there is only satisfaction in avoiding mistakes, and if no mistakes were possible then no satisfaction could be attained). That process includes not only manual camera abilities, but an awareness of the characteristics of films, developers, chemical knowledge, darkroom skills—lots of things way beyond the shutter button! I could have used a digital camera instead, and probably got photos that were technically better, but I would have taken no pleasure in it. Too easy! I think I'm doing what I do partly because of the lovely old cameras, partly to avoid the guilty feeling of cheating, and consequently accepting lower image quality a lot of the time in return.
This is the thing I struggle with—if the final image is all, and the art of photography lies in seeing a good photograph before you pick up the camera then it doesn't matter how it was taken. But I still have the feeling that anyone could have made the right menu settings and relied upon a digital camera's brain to ensure it came out right. So I have to be talking about something else here, the satisfaction of achieving something by doing in a way that is not easy, and whether that satisfaction outweighs the results being technically less perfect. That's probably the issue—I'm trying to satisfy two different drives—to make a satisfying image (the result, which is agnostic about how it was made and digital is easier), and to enjoy the craft of photography (the process, where analog allows for more deployment of skill and thus more satisfaction). If I had a Dionysian mindset, I'd do what felt good at the time, and use all cameras with complete equanimity, but being cursed with an Apollonian mind, I have to bloody well feel like I'm doing, and using, the best I can. It's a curse, and it is only difficult and destructive because I can't separate the pleasure in a good result from the pleasure of navigating a tricky process.
You might think it is easy, when stuck in this kind of endless loop, to look down upon digital users as those who take the easy way, who have a few integrated circuits doing what can be done in wetware with enough practice and effort, but I think I envy anyone who uses a digital camera with a clear conscience. Plainly, this is all psychopathology on my part, and ought not to influence anyone else unduly.