Analog Photography

Machines are now producing art that looks like a person made it. Whether it will ever become indistinguishable is up for grabs. But supposing it does, and that it even bleeds into the third dimension, what does that mean for art?

I am neither an art critic, nor a philospher, but I believe that the way people view art will shift. A pretty picture or statue will still be objectively beautiful regardless of whether a machine or a man created it (and technically, a man just created it through a machine, anyway). But I suspect that art will become more a verb than a noun. Value will come from making it rather than procuring it.

And if a person creates a work of art for someone else with their own hands, that piece will also have more value to the receiver than something a machine could churn out. It is the same principle that already exists when we compare, say, how much we value a sweater we buy versus one a loved one knit for us—even if the quality is the same.

Below, you will see pictures that an algorithm could have generated. But it did not. A man went out with an old analog camera (often twice his age), saw a scene that stirred something in him, and clicked a button that allowed light to burn a copy onto a roll of acetate. He does not do it to protray something novel or professional. But because the whole process is fun. Hopefully setting that stage helps these images of New England speak to you in some deeper way as well.

The Challenge

All photos must be taken on a 35mm film camera, developed, and scanned as-is. No cropping, rotating, or retouching is allowed. Hover text contains the descriptions.