d.ar/k[room] = developing art through real kaleidoscopes

The favorite of Perfecto Medina, the photographer, is of a seascape of Olango Island. The picture was with the sun rising behind mangrove trees, and had his form outlined in silhouette off to the side.

“That photo always reminds me of how photography has triggered the traveler’s soul in me. I only knew the name of the island at first, but I never knew exactly where it was,” Medina said. “Since I learned photography, I became so fascinated with traveling—seeing strange locations and figuring out which angle from my Nikon FM10 would frame the subject perfectly.”

Medina added, “It’s fulfilling for my photographer’s soul whenever I get the chance to develop my own pictures. Memories of developing ‘bodyscapes’ with my colleagues back in my university days, and the creepy ambiance of the darkroom stay with me until now.”

A small room in Guy Hall with no air, save for what an old electric fan circulates, the darkroom suggests stories from every dim corner. The tiled table in the middle must have been bathed in an alternation of red and yellow light ever since the School of Communication took up residence, and the need for a darkroom was fulfilled.

Under the red and yellow haze, light passes through the image’s negative, forming a positive image on a sensitive mixture, which this time, is coated on paper—some with special surfaces like silk, velvet, pebble, and even canvas. The paper is then developed, fixed, washed and dried, ending up like edgy pieces of clothing hung to dry on a rainy day.

For Razcel Salvarita, the photographer, it all began when he “saw this old, crappy instamatic camera in high school.” Because his family was all art, he said that it was something to explore.
“I joined the Weekly Sillimanian as a photographer. Back then, most mass communication students taking photography classes asked me to develop their pictures for them,” he said. “What they didn’t know was that I never used the darkroom before.”

Salvarita started experimenting in that room, and turned out to be an expert at it. The results surprised him at times, making it the most intimate thing in photography. “You’re making love. You’re inside a box, and it’s a different world. It’s just you in a different dimension,” he said.

“In the darkroom [in Latin, it is camera obscura where the word “camera” comes from], the element of touch was very human. The process itself was very traditional. While I waited for time to elapse, I delivered poetry or talked to myself. I listened to the old electric fan whir. I inhaled the vinegar, the chemicals. But mostly, I saw, watched, looked,” he explained.

“It’s magical. The blank, white paper looking like it’s getting stained. It’s like virgin paper getting ‘devirginized.’ The image is not instant. It just gradually floats. The paper lies there slightly submerged in chemicals, and the image becomes clearer, existing into life.”

When it comes to cameras, he said, “Old cameras make this distinct noise,” he said, “I communicate with my subjects through my Nikon FM10’s lens. Using black and white film, I wait for the certain amount of light, the certain perfect time of day.”

In Robert Rhode and Floyd McCall’s “Introduction to Photography”, single-lens reflex cameras, those having one lens for both the film and for the photographer to look through, were bulky, heavy and expensive before. They had interchangeable lenses, film magazines, and focusing screens.

Now, the latest camera technology has evolved into a 10.2 megapixel Sony Alpha DSLR-A100. This is the first digital single-lens reflex camera by the Japanese company.

Donnie Luis, the photographer, related, “A Japanese girl, who is also a photographer, once told me that the digital can never surpass film. I don’t know about that, but there’s one thing I’m sure of: digital can never surpass the soul film contains

“Sometimes, visually, you can really feel there is soul in a particular picture, and you remember that particular day, that particular moment you took it. I document my life with my Nikon F80: my room, the books I read, the letters I write. It’s like telling a story. It’s like saying here’s my life. Whatever happens to me, I’ll remember what I have been through.”

“For things like nude photography, which for me is very sacred, I prefer the quality of a picture taken with film. Film man gud, it has this depth,” explained Luis.

He commented on the state of that darkroom in Guy Hall, which no one is using now because the photography class is going digital. “Perhaps no one even notices it exists. These days, it’s all commercial. Everybody wants it convenient.”

“Photo-developing shops stopped selling photo paper,” he concluded with disappointment. “If you love film, how can you do it? No one is selling it anymore.”