2009 November 19

Thursday, November 19th, 2009

I have one or two old, old packs of Polaroid film left, and a trusty Spectra AF camera. They stopped making the film a few years back, and I mourned the loss. There’s something about the sleepy contrast and selectively hard/soft edges of everything captured on Polaroid film that takes it out of time, that makes it weirdly immortal, that keeps it almost precisely how our memory will perceive it twenty years later. It’s analog, like us, and imperfect, like us, and it’s such a human medium that halting the production of Polaroid film feels a little like genocide. Like my romancing of LPs, the quiet, slow science of chemicals fighting between thin sheets of film to give us a small part of what was is beautiful.

This resulted in The Impossible Project.

The passionate response to this has recently provoked Polaroid to start production of Polaroid Instant Film cameras again, in conjunction with the reverse-engineered science that The Impossible Project generated. Polaroid also released a celebratory package of vintage Polaroid equipment in October for $430. Only eight were made. The Polaroid website is still exhausting their supply of remaining film, but at expensive prices. $2 to take one photograph on the Spectra AF is a steep price, but art is not cheap.

I spent one of my last packs of Polaroid film on Coney Island a couple of years back. It was the last summer before THOR was to come in and destroy countless years of history, so I kept what I could, and I kept in the most immortal way I could think of.


They’ve also developed an amazing little film called ‘Fade To Black‘, which only works with a relatively expensive variety of camera. Over the course of 24 hours, your photograph fades into view, and then becomes deeper and darker, until it completely fades into darkness. The process can be stopped, scanned, or slightly rejuvenated by placing the dead photo into the sun ‘for a few weeks’. The PDF manual presented by the website presents some photos that perfectly exemplify why I love them.

Art moves in four dimensions at once, and back and forth through all of them.

Once, I had to write a review of a really bad Nintendo DS game, because that’s the life of a blogger.


They stopped sending me games after this.