Physical manifestation

To convey in the print the feeling you experienced when you exposed your film – to walk out of the darkroom and say: “This is it, the equivalent of what I saw and felt’. That’s what it’s all about.” – John Sexton

I am blessed to have my sister Sally who has been a staunch supporter of my photography. Recently she sent me an image of a collection of Christmas cards I sent her in recent years. It was a pleasant surprise to see her keeping the greeting cards as keepsakes. The image reminded me of the many reasons I chose to print my own photos.

My primary focus of photography has always been for my own enjoyment. I do have the desire to share my creativity with friends and family. After I purchased my first digital DSLR camera, my first photo printer soon followed. My instinct about printing was it was an essential skill to acquire if I were serious about my photography. While I appreciate the many opportunities of posting images on the internet nowadays, I feel most of the images posted suffer a limited shelf life. Seeing a photograph on a screen is a vastly different experience compared to seeing a print in person. One can never underestimate the emotional impact of perceiving and appreciating the details of a printed photograph. Whenever I inspect my prints under the light of my daylight viewing booth, I feel a strong sense of pride. Words cannot describe the gratifying feeling I get from seeing my creativity on display.

Another motivating factor for printing my photographs is my ever-growing photography library from years of practice. When I first started getting into digital photography, I knew I would amass a huge number of images quickly without the inhabiting factors posed by traditional film photography. While digital photography gives lots of freedom as to the number of images I can take, it also means my images won’t see the light of day unless I find ways to showcase them. On many occasions after I returned home from photoshoots, I was eager to download the images onto my computer and checked what I had accomplished during each outing. There were times when I noticed certain images stood out, I would gladly pat myself on the back for the job well done, then it was on to the next photoshoot. I soon realized unless I found ways to bring images I favored out to light in some physical forms, I would have just as quickly forget they ever existed. Then I wonder to myself why I bother to put so much effort into photography if treat my photographs as afterthoughts. I decide to make prints and greeting cards for friends and family just to give myself the motivation to print more. It feels wonderful when I am told my work are being appreciated and I also welcome the many feedbacks I receive.

From my years of printing, I have learned the perception about my photographs differs significantly between a printed page and digital images being displayed on a smartphone, laptop, or even a high-end monitor. When I see one of my printed photographs on display, it reviews a whole lot more about my technique and my abilities. Instead of rushing through the images on my digital catalog, I give myself the opportunity to be more appreciative what I have accomplished when there is a tangible piece right in front of me. Printing produces a physical manifestation of your ingenuity.

It has always been my goal to print my photos at home. It would have been easier if I were to outsource the printing duty to a third-party company, but there is this feeling of myself being a backseat driver without the full control of final output. Despite the immense satisfaction I get from making my own prints, I must admit the process is fraught with technical challenges. Over the years I have wasted a lot of time and money producing prints that are less than satisfactory. The struggle taught me printing was as much an art form as taking photographs, both required equal amount of commitment and effort on my part.

I have taken several printing workshops over the years. I learn the process of choosing the right paper that suits the image, calibrating the computer monitor and printer so the image I see on both sides match up, editing the image in a way that will look good on print, loading the different printing paper with different weight, etc. The lengthy learning process requires persistence and patience. When I hit the “print” button, there is always this eager anticipation. Will the colors be rendered correctly? Will the paper I pick turn out to be the right choice? Will the print match the image I prepare on my computer? It can be nerve wrecking as I wait to see a print being churned out of my printer. The moment I hold a print that matches my vision, any lingering doubts about my obsession disappear.

As Ansel Adams once said a print is a performance. I am thankful for the modern printing technology that allows me to bring my vision to life within the comfort confine of my own home.