David’s photographic journey

Photographers typically chat about photographs more than their cameras, but recently all our chat has been about the ‘digital era’. It’s been a confusing time for many of us who turned our photography expertise into thriving businesses years ago. With the beginnings of the digital era, all of a sudden a photograph wasn’t a photograph anymore—it was an ‘image’, ASA became ISO, there were TIFFS and j-pegs, and the mighty RAW, and f-stops of 7.1 and 10 were totally foreign to us. At the height of my career, my Hassleblad and its myriad of lenses, including the most beautiful wide surface of glass I’ve ever owned –the 40mm Distagon lens—became obsolete almost overnight. My darkroom became a workplace of the past, and my beautiful Schneider-Kreuznach lenses began collecting dust. Colour film labs in the city were in trouble, or trying desperately to convert to digital. It was very frightening; to a large extent, a fear of the unknown. It was a bittersweet experience that some immediately embraced, while others felt pathetically lost. More so, converting to digital brought with it a new knowledge- base and expenses many of us couldn’t keep up with. Some of us bought huge digital and Photoshop learning manuals. Don’t publishers know that photographers don’t read? (After all, that’s why we became photographers.) File management? I need a University Degree to file my many images! None of us knew what we do now about the amount of time we’d spend staring into a computer screen late at night.

Over the years, the benefits of the digital era emerged. No film labs, no expensive colour prints, instant digital images viewed through Photoshop, the ability to change from 100ISO to 800ISO with the flick of a button, no film, no film loading: Wow! Many photographers, including myself, finally embraced digital photography and recognized that Photoshop wasn’t wicked at all. It is basically a darkroom, except you don’t have to turn the lights off. These days I save a few j-pegs, delete a few j-pegs, and send j-pegs through the internet to family, friends and loved ones around the world. Instant gratification! Many fine art photographers continue to produce splendid silver bromide prints in their darkrooms, with the lights off, agitating their film and prints, and God bless them!

I invite you to go to High Park, see the glorious trilliums in spring, the mighty black oak leaves in summer, the cacophony of colour in the fall, and feel the brutal north wind that blows across Grenadier Pond in the winter. Photography is a learnt profession, just like art. I’ve tried to shoot like Yousuf Karsh or paint like Christopher Pratt. I gave that up a long time ago: I’ll settle for being David Allen.