SLOWING DOWN WITH FILM

The end of film?

In the early 2000s, the massive arrival of digital technology completely transformed photography. In 2003, for the first time, digital camera sales surpassed those of film cameras. And to top it all off, Kodak filed for bankruptcy in 2012.

Labs began closing one after another, disappearing from our city centers for lack of buyers. The rise of all-digital created a form of photography that is immediate, instantaneous, unlimited, almost free with every click, allowing thousands of files to be stored on a tiny memory card, all mixed together, kept on a camera, computer, or phone. You can see the photo instantly on a digital screen, delete it, and start again in burst mode. It was a true revolution: everything became faster, and cheaper.

And yet...

Film takes a breath

For several years now, a new generation of photographers seems to be reversing this trend, or at least establishing a coexistence between film and digital. Photos pile up on memory cards, never to be printed: practical at times, even ephemeral, yet a desire to actually hold a photograph in one’s hands has reawakened.

Films are going back into production. Labs are reopening. Young photographers, born with a smartphone in hand, are discovering film for the first time through disposable cameras or cameras passed down by their parents or grandparents, and something clicks. The need to slow down makes itself felt. In an era where everything is instant, film becomes a pause, and that pause has a number: 36 (or 24, or even fewer). No screen, just a viewfinder, patience, and choices. For a generation used to immediacy, this limitation becomes a true exercise.

Shooting on film rather than digital means accepting that you won’t see your photo right away. You take time to reflect instead of firing endlessly (“if it’s bad, we can just delete it”). You train yourself not to make mistakes because every shot matters, to think about your framing, to hold your breath before each exposure. You take the time to immortalize a memory you won’t want to erase, but to keep forever. Pressing the shutter of a film camera becomes an important decision.

It is about cultivating our patience in a world that values immediacy.

And this patience does not end when you rewind the roll. It continues in the lab. Unlike digital, film processing is not instant: it requires time, care, and a precise sequence of steps: leader extraction, development, drying, scanning, printing, sleeving. This delay is an integral part of the experience. Dropping off your film and waiting for the lab’s message prolongs the emotion. It means accepting that the image will reveal itself later—and that the waiting itself gives even more value to the moment you finally discover your photos.

Film + digital

Today, many new photographers drop off their film at the lab with a clear goal: “get the photos in digital format” rather than as prints, as was common in the past. It’s understandable, we live surrounded by screens. But when you develop a roll of film, you don’t just get files back; you also get negatives. And sometimes prints, just as was standard in the 1990s and 2000s.

Those negatives are far more than just leftover strips of film, they are the original photographs, meant for your personal archives. If a hard drive fails or a computer is stolen, all your files can disappear. That’s why we systematically recommend retrieving your negatives and never destroying them. If your negative is properly stored, it can be rescanned by your favorite lab, even 5, 10, or 30 years from now.

Without a negative, if your files are lost, your photos are lost too, permanently.

The pleasure of waiting

Film has a cost and requires time, attention, and patience, but that is precisely what gives weight to your images. A generation born into digital is now discovering the pleasure of slowness.

The pleasure of waiting for development. Of opening a sleeve of negatives along with the prints. And smiling at each new photo you see for the very first time, before your eyes or in your hands, reliving moments from weeks, months, or even years ago.

RETRIEVING AND ARCHIVING mY nEgatiVEs