A year ago I had grandiose ideas about the lush, edgy, vibrant images I could make if only I had a plastic camera. So I took the $25 plunge and bought a Holga. Many more dollars in film later, I took it to Florida on a family trip. I diligently read Michelle Bates’ Plastic Cameras: Toying with Creativity. I raided my grandmother’s garage in search of gaffer’s tape to control the light leaks. The book freaked me out so much about loading the camera, I went into a dark closet and had my husband read the step-by-step instructions on how to load it from a semi-lit room around the corner. (By the way, it’s just loading a camera. No need for the theatrics.)
And then I shot my little heart out. I faithfully carried it around with me all week. I stopped traffic and climbed large boulders. I was a Holga warrior.
I couldn’t wait to get back to Atlanta and have the film processed. I raced to the lab the moment it was ready. But alas, it was a flop. Totally terrible. There was one slightly passable image, if the viewer was being kind. So I put my Holga away and smirk every time I see my Toying with Creativity book.
So what is the moral of this long story, you say? We are having an opening tonight of the work of 10 photographers, and each image was shot with a plastic camera. Fantastic Plastic. The moral is that fantastic images can be created with a plastic camera. Just not by me.
Enjoy the preview. . .