When I lived in Manchester, I had a second-hand Pentax K-1000. I bought it for £100 from a camera shop in Chester, and for about two years, wherever I went, so did the camera. Everything seemed to look better through a lens.
Halloween, Manchester 2006 All images copyright Elly Strigner 2006 |
Studio, Manchester 2007 All images copyright Elly Strigner 2006 |
Then, one day, I went to Stoke-On-Trent to take some pictures for a project I was doing for a local record label. I set up my tripod outside the bus station in Hanley, adjusted the aperture, focused, pressed the button - and nothing happened. No satisfying click. No soft mechanical purr as I tried to wind the film on. The lever had jammed. When I took it into the camera shop, they said it was dead. It was a sad day.
After that I used my mobile phone for ages. It was just depressing - everything comes out looking like something from a low-budget horror film.
(A David Lynch banana split, taken on my mobile, 2010)
Then, last year, I went to San Francisco on a trip with the University. It was image overload - I saw things everywhere that I wanted to photograph, from people to cracks in the pavement to huge public sculptures. I took a diary with me, borrowed my Mum's camera again and did end up taking heaps of pictures on my phone, but the whole time I was there, the same thought kept running through my head like a reel. 'I should have my camera with me. I should have my camera with me. I should have my camera with me'.
(San Francisco, 2011)
(Littlehampton, Norfolk, Brighton, MA studio, 2011 - 2012)
Here's the thing. Sometimes I get despondent, when I think I don't see, or can't, or won't remember, all the millions of tiny details that are around me all the time. But having a camera reminds me to look at everything - and it also reminds me how much stuff I do notice. Sometimes you have to get from A to B on a straight path, and not get distracted...but sometimes it's better to stop and look at everything. Examine things. Load the film, wind it on, keep your eye on whatever you can see before it disappears. That's what my camera makes me do, and that's why I love it.