Contact sheets: A necessary evil

The life cycle of an analogue print or photograph is fairly simple. You load the film into the camera and expose it to light via a lens and shutter. Then you develop the film with some chemicals, shine some more light through the negative onto some paper, mess about with yet more chemicals, wash and dry, et voilà.

Except there is of course so much more to it than that.

Quite apart from the techniques, materials and methods, there are the photographer’s routines, preferences and I guess even superstitions. Then there is the balance between discipline and child-like abandon and enthusiasm. Cataloguing, notes and storage also play an important part…

In short, is a photographer a mad scientist, chaotic artist or an anal control freak? Or a wonderfully infuriating combination of all three?

And fitting snugly into the middle of all these routines, needs and behavioural patterns are the humble contact sheets.

Off the back of developing the film, if you are lucky enough to spot some stand out images, the first thing you want to do is print them. Maybe go through all the negs first – using the enlarger to view them – but first and foremost, you want to print them.

Give in to this desire though, and you will regret it. Contacts are the backbone of a photographers work, the foundation around which the darkroom functions. Without them you will struggle to remember which frame you used when you return to reprint an image, assuming there are a few that are similar. You can write printing notes on them, number the page and frame for cataloguing and go through your images again and again without fear of damaging the negatives.

When it comes to the moment of printing contacts, I know I will struggle to find the will power and discipline: It is a chore that must be done.

But years of experience have taught me that I never regret doing them, yet always regret it if I don’t.

Latest

Swarm

It was as simple as ‘get to the top of Finland and turn left’.  At least that is…

Blink and you’ll miss it

Iceland. Never has the essence of a country so closely resembled the way in which I see the…

Under the Stars in Madagascar

There are times when writing about memories from as far back as my eighteenth year feels wrong. How…

Viewpoints

The Rooftop Collective exhibition edition VI Tempus Fugit. So they say. Here we are again, another Rooftop Collective…

Memories

Cold, tired and high in Ladakh

India 16-03-11 It wasn’t that cold. Or rather it didn’t feel that cold. It was dry, drier than…

Portuguese lakes at sunrise

I am now long overdue a film developing session followed by some printing. And I cannot wait. Apart…

Brown carpets and rotating Y-fronts

Arrival in India 13-03-11: An airport is an airport is an airport. And Delhi airport is an airport.…

Knee Deep in Prayer

I stood knee deep in the water and prayed. Prayed. If ever a word had connotations, it’s ‘prayed’.…

Randomly Selected

West of the Sun: Quotes

One of the things that has always given me great pleasure when I read a book is the…

Top Gear Romanian Special

JEREMY CLARKSON, RICHARD HAMMOND AND JAMES MAY IN ROMANIA: It was with great interest that I watched the Romanian…

Photographing Photographs

Swept along by Katrina Aleksa of Predella House: I’m sat, once again, in a taxi, frames stacked up…

Luck led to Normandy – by Barbara Wace

Written by Barbara in April 1995: When the Allied invasion became a certainty and the only question was…