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First published August 19, 2021, on The Northern Dispatch website, by the author.
Breaking news: A person (the author) self-isolated in film photography for several years is quickly reminded of all that is good with digital photography.
About two weeks ago we had the fun of attending the “home-town hero” parade honoring Sunisa (Suni) Lee, who won the gold medal in the all-around gymnastics competition at the recently-completed 2020 Summer Olympics in Tokyo, Japan (postponed until this summer, 2021, because of the pandemic). There was plenty of drama surrounding that competition with the favorite (Lee’s teammate, Simone Biles, who is among the best-of-all-time gymnasts) withdrawing from the competition for mental health reasons. Lee stepped up and won, rightfully earning her spot among the elite.
It was a special moment for St. Paul, Minn., which is home to the largest Hmong community in the country. The parade route threaded along a section of White Bear Avenue in the city’s East Side, where Lee grew up.
While watching the Olympics (not only gymnastics), it was notable to see more diversity within various country’s teams (particularly Europe). As usual, the United States had by far the most diverse participants. This, of course, is what makes the US great. But, after the last five years of ramped-up, hateful rhetoric towards immigrants, BIPOC and LGBTQ communities, one wondered how many Americans still watched all their olympians with pride?
Fortunately, in St. Paul on August 8, 2021, all was well. People of all demographics and ages were lining the street and marching in the parade, representing their heritage in honor of unity and Lee’s accomplishment, celebrating one of their own, and by doing so, honored the contributions of the Hmong people to the city, state and country. Plenty of folks also donned masks as the crowd grew, in response to the delta variant’s rapid spread (although there were steadfast refusers who rebuffed free-mask offers from volunteers passing them out).
Among these ten “favorite” photos of mine are two that I wouldn’t consider great technical grabs, but important nonetheless. The first is the one portraying the Hmong Vietnam War veterans—SGU fighters. The Special Guerrilla Unit were a group of Hmong soldiers recruited by the CIA to fight for the US in the Vietnam War. Most of those soldiers came from Laos, as North Vietnam invaded their country. To see a group of them marching with a sign that stated, “Hmong SGU Worked Directly With The U.S. Government” reflected a need to remind us, particularly after our last divisive years, why our cultures are united. (Read more here and in this document from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel focussed on the SGU here.) US culture is forever fluid, simultaneously a great strength and weakness, as we tend to forget history, distant and recent. Even children of immigrants need to be reminded why their parents and grandparents came to build new lives in the United States (myself included).
Another photo is much simpler. It shows Suni Lee, atop the massive St. Paul Fire Department ladder truck, laughing with the unbridled glee of a child. Which she is, really—just 18 years old and with a mouthful of braces. It’s important to remember and embrace that.
The hardware
From the photographic standpoint, it had been a long time since I slung my DSLR over my shoulder (yes, over my shoulder; “back in the day” I was—and am—partial to the basic BlackRapid sling). I’ve been shooting almost exclusively film for the last three years, the reasons are not particular and can be navel-gazed in another post. But when we decided to go to this parade (really, our first outing in a large crowing since before the pandemic lockdowns began in March 2020), I thought about how best to manage and have fun with my kid (with my wife to help, thankfully), who was the prime motivator for the excursion.
Lugging a weighty, manual-focus camera into a crowd to attempt to capture some moments in a well-paced parade wasn’t appealing. I wanted color, as I wanted to capture the vivid attire of traditional dress among the participants. I also wanted rapid fire, as I would likely not be in an ideal space and people would be waving, jumping, and otherwise blocking images while I was pressing the shutter. Further, I am a tall guy, and not getting paid to get the great shots. I did not want to be in front of the crowd, blocking a kid’s or older folks’ views of their hometown hero. A zoom lens would be desirable, preferably with a great range. I wonder where I might find such a thing?
Oh. Yes. I remember: The thing I used to maintain my value as a journalist as budgets were slashed and staff photographers were laid off: The DSLR. I purchased my first in in the mid-late “aughts,” my most recent is a Canon 80Din 2018. I bought, for efficiency’s sake, one lens: a Tamron 16-300mm, f3.5. It’s a solid camera/kit, although quirky (more on that in yet another post, perhaps; my first DSLR was an Olympus E-510, which I loved, because it was designed intuitively like a film camera, and its basic lens kit was fantastic—it sits on a shelf, maybe awaiting my daughter’s fingers when they get big enough).
Those of us that have drifted back to film have done it, in part, to counter the slightly indescribable malaise of going to digital for survival. We got tired of sorting through (virtual) mounds of digital images (many indistinct from the one previous or following). To be sure we got A photo, we set the rapid fire, and felt like we sacrificed getting THE photo.
That might have happened sometimes. But, if one is truly honest, we journalists who were our own photographers—especially at fast moving events—more likely got something better than we would have ever snatched chasing the story with a film camera. But, in doing that, we might have developed the habit of overshooting everything else. Slogging through shot after shot of a “happening” that, back when we shot film, would have deserved only a half-roll of film, made our jobs more of a grind than they already were becoming (having lost our staff photographers), and perhaps dampened our enthusiasm for the craft.
To lessen that grind, I developed good digital habits. After the event—or during, if there was a lull—I scrolled through my photos on the camera’s LCD screen, deleting the obviously bad. As soon as I got to the office, I dumped the pics from the memory card to the desktop. Using whatever “preview” program (PC or Mac), I deleted more images obviously slightly out-of-focus or just badly composed, leaving a manageable stack—the equivalent of a roll or two—from which to choose with more scrutiny what was needed for the story.
Those habits were kicked to the curb once I stopped being a professional journalist. When I picked up my DSLR for this parade, there were images from my kid’s T-ball games, pre-pandemic, on the card.
Sigh.
I resolved to jump-start my prior good habit. Which was good, as I wound up with more than 100 images. Doing the first run-through on the camera, I deleted 25. After the dump to the desktop, another 47 wound up in the trash folder (I always create a trash folder within the “job” folder). So, a manageable 45 from which to select ten for this post. There are maybe two others that I like, personally, that I might hang on to for…something, but, I’ve found that once I’ve narrowed down a mass of digital images, when I delete the rest, I don’t miss them.
So, this parade simultaneously restored some of my faith in humanity and sparked a little love and appreciation for digital photography again. Suni Lee’s victory was transcendent, indeed. Final thought: If you’re someone like me who’s come to love film photography and consider that your primary medium, don’t hate on digital like some of those anti-pixel hashtaggers on Instagram. Hauling out the 80D for this event was a great reminder of digital’s strengths. Further, investing in that first Olympus E-Volt years ago made me a better film photographer, as I could learn more deeply and experiment with manual settings without the costly consequence of film and its development. There might come a day when film becomes too impractical. I will care for my digital hardware as I do my Rolleiflex 3.5, Pacemaker Speed Graphic and Hasselblads.
