Grain Kids: Rangatahi and the Film Photography Renaissance

Words by Nikki Addison. Photos Assorted.

LAURA MCNEISH. A beach scene at Mangawhai, Northland. “I gravitate towards isolated landscapes and sombre scenes, something beautiful but lonely – the bittersweetness of the everyday.”  

A few years ago, I saw a photo of the California coast on Instagram with the hashtags #35mm and #nofilter. It had a rich grainy texture, a soft, hazy palette and a beam of peach-coloured light down one side – pure aesthetic pleasure. I remembered my dad had been into shooting film when he was younger, so I picked his brain, took a deep dive into the Interweb and bought a Canon T70 for $50.

I’m just one of many rangatahi (young people) swept along by the recent film photography revival – a resurgence of interest in all things analogue.

ALEX WONG. A young man during a local black lives matter protest. “It was an opportunistic photo, but it feels timeless, in that it could be hard to pick whether it’s from the ’60s or something. I think it’s physically beautiful, but has a sadness and heaviness to it, which reflects what was going on. A photo that looks like a civil rights march photo from fifty years ago, marching about the same shit.”

In the time since I began shooting film, an underground community has emerged and flourished, largely thanks to the rise of social media and, particularly, Instagram. For all its faults, the gram has provided a hub for young film photographers around the world to share their work and connect.
At home, groups like New Zealand Analogue and Analogue Aotearoa give Kiwi film photographers a voice, celebrating their work by reposting images and providing a snapshot of everyday Aotearoa at the same time.

Pages like these are a safe, supportive platform for local film photographers to have a kōrero about their art, and they enabled me to stumble upon the amazing kaiwhakaahua (photographers) featured here. “It feels like a more collaborative and generous community than the regular Instagram influencer kind of space,” explains Jess Wawatai. “I find it’s about the art and people first before it’s about making money. Twitter has been a place where I’ve made a lot of friends. It’s helped me learn and hone my craft, and it’s pushed and inspired me.”

Morning coffee contemplations in Franklin, Queenstown. “Nostalgic and introspective.” By Laura McNeish

Like Wawatai, Laura McNeish agrees that social media has opened doors, citing Pinterest as one of the reasons she first got into film. “All the photos I liked were ‘35mm’. I wasn’t sure what that meant, really, but it definitely was in the back of my mind,” she says. “I love to follow and encourage local photographers. The community issuper important for encouraging my own practice forward; I get inspired by them and want to shoot similar content.”

While providing space for large-scale inspiration, dialogue and recognition, social media is just the gateway to starting truly meaningful conversations about art, culture, history and more. “The online community can be nurturing, but having my work exhibited (self or other) and in people’s homes, and talking about it is my goal,” says Alex Wong . It’s a sentiment Alistair Robertson agrees with. “This massive resurgence of film simply wouldn’t have been possible without platforms like Instagram,” he says. “However, I do think it’s incredibly saturated now, and it’s important to not just upload pictures onto your Instagram; the feeling of printing your work and looking at it physically is far more satisfying.”

JESS WAWATAI. Fan boys. "A recent favourite, taken at a North's game a few weeks back. I spotted this trio fully kitted out in support of the home side."

The tangible nature of film is no doubt one of the reasons many of today’s younger people are drawn to analogue photography in the first place. “With ever-growing technology, we seem to be losing more of that visceral feeling, especially with photography, given that pretty much everything is electronic now,” says Robertson. A desire for slowness adds to the appeal: “A lot of things we have these days are automatic, fast and convenient,” says Wong.

“I think people our age and younger have connected with a craft that requires more focus and consideration. There’s something beautiful in the slow, heavy and imperfect.” Because it’s impossible to tell how a film photo will turn out until the roll is developed, analogue is as much about the moment and the act of shooting as the end product. It forces us to pause and be present, look at our surroundings differently, and put real thought into each shot. Both Wawatai and Robertson cite this as one of the things they like most about shooting film: “You have way fewer frames; it makes me less lazy about composing,” says Wawatai. “You have to take your time and decide if that particular shot is worth it and if the composition is exactly what you want,” Robertson explains. And let’s not forget, when you’re paying $30– $50 to buy and develop a roll of film, the “one shot only” notion hits hard.

NIKKI ADDISON. A scene from Middle Earth. “I took this photo in Canterbury on the way to Mount Sunday, the home of Edoras from Lord of the Rings. To me, it epitomises how I think of Aotearoa: rugged, untouched countryside where maunga meet kātao.”

As key players in a burgeoning slow-maker movement that encompasses everything from sewing and pottery to crafts and painting, the affinity millennials and gen Zs have for film photography comes as no surprise. It’s a physical process: rewinding the film, carefully removing the roll (in the dark, squinting), dropping it at the camera shop, collecting thenegatives and prints. “I love the feeling of having to wait for my scans,” Wawatai says. “There aren’t many things in this world that force delayed gratification these days. It’s good for the soul.” There’s also the satisfaction in accidental analogue “flaws” – light leak, double exposure, unplanned softness – which only enhance that evocative quality we’re all trying to capture. “I really like the natural softness about film,” says McNeish. “Digital can be quite sharp and detailed; however, film has a lovely soft feeling about it, very nostalgic.” Shooting analogue encourages us to forget about trying to capture the perfect shot for the gram; instead, we upload our imperfect images to the delight of other film fans.

ALISTAIR ROBERTSON. Sydney’s underground subway. “I took this on the first cheap point-and-shoot I bought and couldn’t believe how well it turned out. It was a case of that extremely satisfying feeling of not knowing how it will turn out, having that long wait before you find out, and being immensely happy with it; something you just don’t get with digital.”

If you’re thinking of venturing into the film photography arena – and you should – there are a few things you can do to ease into it. Ask your local camera shop for advice on which kinds of film to try, and experiment with a bunch until you’ve found your groove. Reach out to other photographers and ask them about shooting techniques (remember, social media is your friend). Take your camera everywhere, even to the dairy and the petrol station; often, the most mundane scenes make the most interesting shots. Don’t overthink things, and don’t get discouraged if your shots turn out differently from how you imagined. Finally, heed Wong’s advice: “There’s no such thing as a shit photo.” Āmene to that.