Fine Grain
By Alben Osaki
I’ve had an interest in photography and filmmaking since I was a kid, and I mostly blame my dad. He had this cheap point-and-shoot film camera, and I have memories of him going through rolls upon rolls of Kodak Gold and Fujifilm Superia growing up. I have three or four photo album’s worth of childhood photos in storage somewhere. He never explicitly said it, but I think it was important to him that my childhood was well documented.
Back when I worked at REI I had a friend, Jon, who was also a freelance filmmaker and audio engineer.
Being a fellow creative, he and I would spend idle time chatting about video production and photography, talking shop while we waited to clock out for the day. Being able to chat with other creative folks is one of my favorite things to do. A great way to brainstorm ideas, share stories, and ponder the struggles of being a freelance creative (such as having to work at REI to get health insurance).
One slow day at work, I remember him telling me, “I bought a film camera off of eBay. I’m going to start shooting film.”
I poked fun at him, “Now all you’ll need is a jean jacket and a beanie, and your transformation into a hipster will be complete.”
Despite my upbringing, I had zero interest in shooting on film.
Sure, my dad did it a lot growing up, but times have changed and technology has advanced. It costs a lot of money to buy film, develop film, scan film, and in the end your photo might be blurry and out of focus, or overexposed, or any number of things. Memory cards are relatively cheap, and if I missed a shot, all I needed to do is shoot it again.
Why anyone wanted to shoot on film was beyond me.
But then Jon started taking some pretty great photos and sharing them with me. They weren’t world-changing or anything. A landscape photo he took on a camping trip, or a portrait of a friend. But even I had to admit that the colors and the texture of the grain were beautiful. And he talked about the process in such romantic terms, about how he was forced to slow down and make sure each shot counted.
Okay, I decided, maybe my interest was piqued just a little bit.
I went onto eBay a few months later and found myself looking for a film camera to purchase for myself. I wanted something affordable and unique. That rabbit hole led me to TLR cameras, or Twin Lens Reflex. These cameras have two lenses, one that you use to focus, and the other that actually takes the photo.
That’s how I came across the Yashicaflex C.
Not the highest end or the fanciest, but it was beautiful, and the price was right.
Not the highest end or fanciest camera by any means, but it was beautiful and the price was right. I ordered it without giving it a second thought; shipped directly from some camera store in Japan.
I’ll cut to the chase. I’ve run a few rolls of film through it since I got it and I generally suck at taking film photos. To my credit, I’m pretty good with figuring out the exposure, making sure my photos don’t end up too bright or too dark, but it’s not uncommon for me to completely miss focus.
I’m such a noob.
I took it recently, along with a few rolls of Kodak Portra 400, on a climbing trip to Continental Ranch in Texas. Continental Ranch is a private ranch in Texas along the Pecos River, right outside the small town of Comstock. It might just be one of the most scenic places I’ve been to in Texas, with an emerald green river that cuts through a canyon of limestone cliffs.
I couldn’t help but wonder, how would this nearly 70-year-old camera handle being in an arid environment, shooting people who are camping and climbing? Like Jon had mentioned before, shooting on film is not a fast process. I use an app on my phone as a light meter, to figure out what settings I need to put the camera to.
Adjust the aperture, shutter speed, and focus. Charge the shutter release. Compose my photo.
Then click. Take the shot.
Film photography from a climbing trip to Continental Ranch, Texas.
Remember when you were a kid and saw all of your presents under the Christmas tree? The anticipation for the day where you could tear open the wrapping and see what all those presents held? Well, waiting for your photos to develop and scan and not having any idea how they turned out gave me a similar feeling.
Over the course of two days at Continental Ranch, I shot a handful of photos, and to my surprise, most of them turned out okay!
Admittedly, I wasn’t hanging off of a rope, Yashicaflex in hand, taking rad photos of climbing (though now that I mention it, this might be fun to try one day). Most of the photos were of the campsite, or people hanging out at the crag. But I couldn’t help but smile as I reviewed the photos after finally getting them back from the lab.
In a world where instant gratification is king, I managed to find a lot of joy in the process of using this little film camera.
I guess my point is… I need to go buy myself a jean jacket and beanie.
Alben Osaki is a photojournalist and filmmaker residing in South Texas, with a focus on the outdoors.
