Our pinhole photos are all taken with homemade cameras, constructed using basic materials such as old coffee cans, cardboard tubing, duct tape, and aluminum foil.
It is our experience that a pinhole photograph is both less and more than any other kind of image. It is less technology, less frills; more time, more photo.
It’s a different kind of photography effort than what we often understand today. In a world where images are snapped and deleted thoughtlessly, each and every pinhole photograph takes a large amount of intention, preparation, labor, cost. All the elements that have to line up for an image to succeed – the angle/framing, the light/exposure, the science of chemicals in our bathtub. For one good shot, there have been many failures.
With little more than a tin can, we capture an image — more than just a brief second, but instead a small pocket of time. A pinhole photograph is unique in that its long exposure does more than simply reflect life: it contains life. So much more happened during that opening of the shutter. So much more light shined, wind blew, creatures lived and died. For us it is a poignant reminder of our own impermanence, our own mortality: as objects in motion – people, creatures, vehicles, blades of grass and branches – pass by, the pinhole camera absorbs their existence but often doesn’t record it as more than a streak or flutter.
Creating a pinhole image can feel quite a spiritual ritual in many ways; a meditation of sorts. This practice gives us a chance to really notice something about our world. A building. A boat. The sand. Earth. Grass. We walk down pathways and sidewalks we haven’t ventured down before. We investigate such like worms and stones and disembodied crab legs.
It also gives us the chance to create something to leave behind us, to commemorate this ‘pocket of time’ in our lives, to celebrate and appreciate and acknowledge our environment.
It feels to us that each of these photos are little lives of their own. And we are there, living too. And our children are there, living, often running around the camera or even in front of it, not staying still long enough to really register on the paper. But they are there. They are alive in these photos too. And so are you.
~~~
We offer our hand-printed pinhole photos and negatives for sale as fine art prints.
We are also book commissions of pinhole house portraits. Commissions include a print and full size negative, professionally framed. Please send us a message for more information.
~~~
Elizabeth Davaze 