In some half-finished piece some time back, I wrote that the one salient virtue of film in general, and (for me) 35mm in particular over digital was that is wasn't a moving target. Whichever 35mm camera might be in my hands at a given moment, so long as i know the film that was in it, I have a certain handle on imaging particulars, and I'll also have a handle on what I'll be dealing with in the process of creating prints from the processed roll. The camera might be my Fred Flintstone-primitive Holga 135, my auto-everything Ricoh GR1 or Konica Lexio 70, or my somewhere-in-between Hexars, but the film is the constant factor. The light gets bent, diffracted, and rationed somewhat differently, but the film reacts a certain way in all these cameras, and if I know the film well, I have an Approach.
How well does this play out with a sensor? It depends. Frequently, it can work out rather well. Sometimes I can get blindsided by its limitations in a crucial moment. Sometimes a forgotten sub-menu creates a "gotcha" that can be infuriating. And, this, among a host of other things, changes with the particular digital camera in my hands. This is why I can have a huge appreciation for digital imaging technology, while harboring a healthy distrust for the vast majority of digital cameras of any price range, and continue to work primarily with film for both my own work and whatever for-hire work I might still do from time to time.
Thus, my "philosophy" of film lies strongly in the pragmatic, prosaic realm as opposed to the poetic. That said, the beauty of the "filmic" image isn't lost on me at all; I wouldn't bother to use the stuff otherwise.
The piece was a great read, and adds stuff for the mind to chew on. Thanks very much for this!
- Barrett