Translator: Lisa Rodriguez
Reviewer: Peter van de Ven Three years ago, I started
The Rescued Film Project. What we do is look all over the world for rolls of films that have been shot
but never processed. I then develop this film to try to rescue
any images they might still contain. Now, this makes me the very first person
who has ever seen any of these pictures, and I spend countless hours
and thousands of dollars acquiring, processing
and scanning film, and today we have rescued
over 25,000 pictures.
The images in the archive
range from the 1940s all the way up until the late 2000s. Every picture we are going to be
looking at today is actually from
The Rescued Film Project archive. And many of them, until today,
have never been seen by anybody except myself. So when I process this film,
scanning in the images, seeing them for the very first time, the same questions always go
through my head, over and over, no matter what the picture is of: Why was this never processed? What happened to the photographer? Where are they now? Unfortunately, for most of these pictures, those questions
will probably go unanswered.
But many of you may be looking
at some of these photos and thinking: So what? These are just some random pictures of random people I don't know
and I don't care about. But take a second
and change your prospective, and look at this picture right now
as if you're looking at it in 50 years. I don't do this because I'm trying to find
some history-altering images, I do this because I know
that whether we realize it or not, every picture we take documents
our collective history as human beings. You see, we take photos for ourselves,
of moments that are important to us, but in doing so, we also create a snapshot
of what it is like to be alive right now.
What clothes are in style ... What excites us -
birthdays, apparently ... Where we go ... And what we find important.
But as you're looking
at these photos right now, realize you were never meant to see them. I was never meant to see them. Because all of these photos
were shot on film, and you would never see them unless you had a real, personal
connection with the photographer. If you were in their homes, looking through their photo albums
or seeing them hung on walls.
But today, we take photos
knowing and even hoping that people we have no personal
connection with will see them, like them, share them. Strangers. Back when these photos were taken, the thought of a complete stranger
seeing them would be completely odd. (Laughter) But today it just seems commonplace.
When I started The Rescued Film Project, my initial goal was to reconnect
these images with the photographers. These days, because - These days, because of this,
we take photos at an enormous rate. Because of this, the Internet and social media
has changed why we take pictures. We can curate exactly how we want
our lives to appear to others.
We take 15 photos and post one -
the perfect one - and discard the rest. This photo, by today's standards, is not perfect. Almost no one is looking at the camera
or even paying attention. (Laughter) Today, this would probably be one of those
15 photos that got discarded.
But this photo is honest, is genuine,
is a true and accurate representation of this exact moment
in these people's lives. Back when this was shot on film,
this would not have been discarded. That is why I do what I do. So, why don't we throw away photographs? Physical photographs, negative slides.
Why do we have those same two roles
of film that we shot forever ago that we pass on from one junk drawer
to the next, and the next, over the course of years,
why don't we throw them away? Why are we all looking at this image
right now, of this person, trying to tell his story, this stranger? Why do we care?
Why do you care? Why do I care? Because we all inherently know
that photos are history. Photos are one of our
only defenses against time. These photos might be the only evidence
that these people ever existed. In a time when we discard images
without a second thought, to me, it's an absolute tragedy that the only people who truly know
how important these images are might never see them.
When I started The Rescued Film Project, my initial goal was to reconnect these
images with the people they belonged to, the photographers. Unfortunately, 3.5 Years
and 25,000 images later, that's only happened once. But what I have noticed
is that because, again, these photos document
our collective history as human beings, we can all relate in even small ways
to so many of the photos. So many of these experiences
that these people are having.
So we step in as surrogates and adopt them
and give these photos meaning again and enjoy them for those
who aren't unable to. My generation is one of the last that will
span the gap between film and digital. Film is still around but it's primarily being used only
by professional or niche photographers. We almost never use it anymore to capture
the everyday moments in our lives.
Birthdays ... Christmas ... Halloween ... Vacations ...
And of course... Cats.
(Laughter) Lots and lots of cats. (Laughter) Dogs too.
These are still the same
moments we're taking pictures of today, but now we are just taking
a lot more of them. While with digital the quality
of our photos has improved, because we are taking so many, the content of each photo
somehow seems less significant. If you could only take six pictures, how would that change
what you take a picture of? In losing the tangible connection of film, we really have started to lose
the tangible connection to our past. Our lives now live in digital photo
libraries on phones and computers.
We are constantly looking back
and never looking forward; it's all about snap, post, move on. Without those physical objects,
those photos, those negatives, the slides, those albums, we almost never look
at the images we create anymore. We find ourselves creating moments
that will make for a great photo, instead of actually just having a moment
and then using a photo to document it. Not being so caught up
in trying to capture the moment.
When you think about it,
it does make sense, right? (Laughter) Remember, your photos might be
the only evidence that you ever existed. So of course, we want the photos we leave behind
to portray a life well lived, but is portraying a life and curating
some glamorous collection of images more important than
actually living your life and creating a genuine
collection of images that truly and accurately represents
what your life is like? So, next time you take out
your phone to snap a photo, just have a moment of pause
and consider what you are shooting. Realize that there really are
no small moments, there are no insignificant moments, and realize that your photos aren't yours. Your photos will be used
and are being used to tell a greater story of who we are.
And so my hope is we begin to apply
a little bit of this film approach, a film mentality,
to our digital photography. And there's two very easy ways
to start doing this. Number one: just limit yourself
to taking six photos a day ... Max.
Number two: if any one of those photos
isn't 'perfect', don't discard it; post it, share it, save it. By doing this, we will begin to start finding
the meaning behind our photos again, and we'll begin to create a personal and
collective history that is truly genuine. Now, before I get off the stage, to me, this seems like a very appropriate time
to actually take a photo. (Laughter) Selfie mode here ...
Alright, everybody, say 'Cheese'! (Audience) Cheese! Thank you. (Applause).
No comments:
Post a Comment