In printmaking, there’s the concept of “unique originals.” For every print a printmaker produces, the print itself is unique; there’s subtle differences between each print that are formed by imperceptible differences in the paper, room conditions (temperature, humidity, etc.), timing (how long has the ink been on the matrix). A master printmaker is so technically competent that they minimize the differences between print to the point they appear identical.
Darkroom printing is similar for photography. Timings, chemicals, and physical actions will alter the prints subtly between one another.
I feel a romantic attachment to these physical variabilities. Its a similar uncontrollability that draws me to my imprecise and imperfect plastic cameras.
But, I largely shoot color film. Color darkrooms are increasingly rare; digital printing has become the de facto for both color and digital printing.
And, for most cases, that’s quite sensible. It’s less time and labor expensive; fewer chemicals are needed; you can get much bigger prints done through digital printing; and the prints will be identical for your photographic edition (assuming you don’t run out of paper or break the printer).
It’s the last point that is a bit of a sticking point for me.
I don’t want identical images.
I want unique originals.
So, I pondered on how I could introduce more variability into my prints.
I’ve taken to treating my film negatives as my photographic matrix. This means that for every print, I start back at the negative. I scan it in, manipulate it in Photoshop, and produce a single print. The images look similar, with a familiar æsthetic that identifies them as mine, but they are not identical.
My own unique original photographs.