Hassan a.k.a opium from Indonesia, member of Klastic family: “This photo taken for showing my
“Polute no more”. This photo was taken by me to demonstrate my concern towards the environment. In this photo, a model wearing a mask was used to emphasize the scarcity of fresh air in the future if this kind of polution level continues. by seeing this picture, hope it can grow people’s attention to our environment.”
Aline Smithson: I was visiting New York last Thanksgiving and gave myself an afternoon to wander Central Park and the Upper East side with my Diana in tow. I wanted to capture New York with a noir and nostolgic feel. I had just seen the wonderful Catherine Opie exhibition at the Guggenheim and turned back to take only one shot of the iconic museum in the late afternoon. I loved how the light shimmered over the entrance, how the structure seems so defined, and the people were just shapes. It was a magical shot.
Sara Snyder: A couple of years ago I upgraded from digital point and shoots to a DSLR because I couldn’t get ‘good’ pictures of my niece and nephew. Turns out, getting a high volume of decent pics of little kids with a DSLR was equally elusive for me. But I loved getting into ‘real photography.’
Earlier this year I bought a Holga. The last time I used a film camera was the Kodak 110 my parents gave me to take to summer camp and if memory serves, the film came in a little cartridge you just plopped in to the camera. The Holga needs a roll of film? You have to spool it yourself? Uh-boy. However…once the first roll came back from the lab, I was hooked. I love the ability to make double exposures, the light leaks, the occasional seeping through of the film back, the square photos, the whole she-bang.
This photo is of my nephew, Charlie, on a slide at our local park. I love this photo because it is everything I wanted to capture two years ago when I bought a fancy DSLR, but just couldn’t. With the Holga, I’ve found the brush that lets me paint the way I want to create — completely one-of-a-kind photos with whimsy and imperfect perfection.
Ian Pinder: I took these photos on the first roll of film through my holga camera. I bought it just for something as an aside from my studies in filmmaking. I gave up photography some time ago, but this new toy has given me back the naive enjoyment that I once had for it. I think these pictures are beautiful in a messy kind of way, and we are now talking about making a film using images from the camera. The camera is much more than I had hoped for. I’m looking forward to sticking by it for some time.
Sarah Zobrist [Winner of the FourCornersDark.com Iconic Contest] I had never been too interested in photography until I stole one of the black and white film cameras from school, seeing as they were switching to digital photography classes instead of film. I loaded it with some black and white film and shot. I took it to the locally owned camera shop to be developed. Three days later I returned to spend the last $20 I had on picking up the roll which came out wonderful. I thought about how I needed a job, seeing as I had no monies to feed my new found addiction. Three days later I had a job at this locally owned camera shop, it’s called “Harold’s Photo”. Now that I’ve worked there for two years, I have a lot more freedom in film developing. I came across an LC-A (rest in peace), which opened doors for my action sampler, etc… This photograph was taken with my LC-A when it was still working properly, about three months ago. It is of three of my photographer co-workers at a very lush party. The three of them all make a living taking portraits. The lascivious dark haired Alika Hartman is intoxicatingly embraced by her most recent lover and our newest coworker, Adam. As most photographers can (and will) admit, this photograph was an accident. I had intended to take a snapshot of our blonde supervisor, Hillery. The chance embrace of the two lovers along with Hillery’s wistful expression tells you everything about the two women. Hillery hasn’t had a boyfriend in years, Alika has had too many. Who is happier?
Ogam Ananty: This was shot with a Yashica in Jakarta, Indonesia. My friend was moving to a new house but for some reason his parents still stayed at their old one, so, of course, like every other responsible teenagers out there, he used it to full advantage by trying to get as messed up as possible. So I came to his house and while sitting on the poolside I notice my friend was approaching this girl, so I ran to capture it. I really like the bloodshot eye and how she grip my friend’s arm. This shot basically shows my style of photography, raw and spontaneous. Oh, and I honestly do not remember how I got home that night.
Johnny Seale: My buddy Ricky Fandrick is an icon to me. Everytime I point my Holga at him, Ricky is doing something off-handedly regal. Fandrick relishes in the small things life brings; he’s lazy and not afraid to wander aimlessly. Ricky will eventually wind up in the middle of Ordinaryville and make it into a three-ring circus.He’s the Jeffrey Lebowski of my personal society.
This shot came on a cold-yet-sunny day, as we waited for a parade to march down the streets of downtown Dallas. Fandrick was under-dressed for the conditions, which is another staple of his character. So we dug up a crappy wool blanket, and told him to throw that on, and go stand in the sunlight (we were positioned in the afternoon shade, so that we could be close to the parade floats). Ricky immediately looked happier, with his warm, brown Navajo blanket and Solo cup of beer. I noticed behind Ricky that there was an old building with faded painted lettering. You’ll note that it says “HEADLINER LOUNGE” and then ‘CHAMPION LOUNGE” on top. Ricky Fandrick looked like the Champ to me. I ducked low and told Ricky to take a step back. I looked up with the Holga and saw the radio tower stretching high up into the downtown sky. I suppressed a quick giggle, and clicked the shutter release. Ricky Fandrick isn’t everyone’s idea of an icon, but I’m proud to say that he’s mine.
Why use a fishing pole when you could just drain the pond? The answer, for a fisherman is quite an easy one…the fish itself, although important as an outcome, is only one part of the acting of “fishing.” There’s something to the actual act. When asked why I use a cheap, plastic toy camera to make photographs, I often think of this analogy. Like a fisherman who could be more successful doing away with a pole, I could do much more by ditching the control-hampered, plastic analog camera and film–and shoot with a digital camera. My exposure could be perfect every time, I could snap endless frames, I could edit the throwaways right on the spot. I could get home, open up PhotoShop and duplicate the look of Ansel Adams’s zone system or Paul Caponigro’s darkroom mastery or just make my shots look like they were shot with a Holga or Lomo. While I was at it, I could clone out the parts I don’t like, I could add or enhance the parts I do…I make my living in advertising, Hell, I first touched PhotoShop when it was once called Barneyscan XP, I’m old.
Nothing makes me want to punch a guy in face more than the argument that digital is better than analog. Of course it is, it had damned well better be better at the price point and technology offered by a good digital camera. What bothers me is the friggin’ argument at all. It’s all a giant pissing contest that demands to be won by those with the biggest bank account. Us film shooters, and particularly us toy camera folk understand the wonder of the act of photography is somehow still deeply rooted in mystery. Mystery is at the heart of my photo work. Blurry, imperfectly complex images revealing blurry, imperfectly complex emotion. Yes, emotion. Famed Japanese photographer Araki dubbed the lack of humidity and darkness in digital photography as a “dry brightness.” The lack of imperfection, nothing too dark or too light robs photography of some emotion or “sentimentality” as Araki calls it. Does that mean there cannot be great images captured digitally, of course not. But using a toy camera makes my photography much less about my toolkit and much more about my subject and thankfully about me. I’m limited by lack of controls, I’m limited by the amount of light the box can take in, I’m limited by the weak shutter, the weak film advance. The possibility of mishaps like light leaks or processing errors is always there…all of these things give me a freedom with the camera to just look, snap, advance. But not in the brainless, point and shoot perfection that digital photography allows.
Perfection is so elusive that I’m never bogged down by the thought of it. I can’t look at a 3 inch screen on the back of my old Mark L clone, I can’t compensate much for exposure issues, I can’t edit, I can only shoot the next frame. Therefore I spend my time thinking about one image at a time, just one, that is all I have to worry about. I can drill down, the act of photography then becomes an extension of my thoughts, what am I trying to say, what am I looking to capture? I have to find the moment to click, I might only get one chance, then on to the next. I strive for some sort of literary thread, albeit without a real narrative there. But to me, my work captures a hint of being caught at a critical moment of an interrupted narrative. Something is happening–in my better photographs–something pivotal, maybe even important, but not entirely unexpected or spectacular.
As I have gotten accustomed to the nuances of my personal cameras and their capabilities and shortcomings I am more able to tweek my shooting style for the best possible outcomes. That is another great thing about using cheap cameras, you can buy lots of them and you can work in your own modifications without worrying about tearing something up and making them unusable. Each camera has it’s own personality based upon the inconsistency in manufacturing and the fact that in many cases they are over 25 years old. I find this part of the magic of shooting with them.
This, and the fact that these toy cameras were made to be used by children. In some way, using toy cameras delivers on the promise of childhood discovery and many times, disappointment, because the images produced do little to mimic reality. Rarely does what you capture come out like what you saw when shooting. As tools of documentary, they may fall flat, but I find that they succeed in creating their own version of the truth, something not readily seen upon first glimpse, the potential of something deeper, something seen best when not seen sharply or without shadow.
I use my toy cameras to tell the stories of my children’s lives, the mundane, day-to-day, many times unremarkable moments, but these images say more about where they are as boys than the images of faked birthday smiles and awkward award presentations. The photos captured on film through these crappy little cameras will be cherished, revisited and pondered long after the gigabytes of pristine digital images I’ve snapped of them. Why? Because in the end, they are just better–unspoiled, unretouched, emotionally “there” images. When you think of the tens of thousands of amazing, thought-provoking analog-based images you’ve seen in your lifetime and their place in the history of photography and art it’s easy to overlook the fact that you have yet to see one digitally produced image that has that sort of resonance. Sure, there will be some, digital will win if it hasn’t already, and the digi-revolution has returned photography to the people, but I’m still waiting for it to convince me of its worth as the best tool for me to make my art and tell the stories I want to tell. I guess I’ll continue to use the fishing pole while the rest of the world looks for the best way to drain the pond.
tread
‘Birdhouse’
Today we feature some wonderful new images from Photographer Darryl Cox, from Katy, Texas. More images can be found on his blog. A few words from Darryl to sum up his work…
I am a self-taught photographer, I have not had any traditional schooling or training.I was first introduced to photography by my father, Will Cox in the mid 1960′s. “Photography is how I best express myself, how I see the world. It allows me look at things in an odd kind of way. I see things different now than I ever have. I was introduced to the work of Nancy Rexroth. Nancy used a camera they call a Diana or a toy camera and the images were really interesting. I was also introduced to the photography of Sally Mann, I then wanted to incorporate the works of Nancy Rexroth and Sally Mann into my photography. I bought a Holga camera which is in the same category as the Diana and I really began thinking about photography. After shooting a couple of rolls of film through my Holga I began to put it together. I was looking at some of the photographs and thinking I have found what I really like.
‘Walk in the Park’
‘House’
‘Woods’
‘Garage’
‘Dirt Road’
‘Front Porch’
From Photographer Ian Tuttle comes this ingenious DIY. We met Ian in San Fran during our Photowalk, and were quite impressed with both his work and his exubarent personality. See more from Ian on his website, and read on to see how you can Put Your Subject Inside of the Camera.
Toy cameras don’t have a lot of moving parts or complicated mechanisms, so there’s lots of empty space to play with. I got some 1/8” figurines meant for model railroads, some Elmer’s glue, and my Diana F+, and went to work.
The Elmer’s glue takes a minute or two to dry, but the benefit of this type of glue is that it holds tight while you’re shooting but is easy to remove when you’re done. Try to find figurines that are standing in interesting poses. Notice the man waving, and the guy with the brief case…
Elmer’s glue takes a minute or two to harden. Be patient.
When you glue them in there, remember that the light passing through the lens is inverted, so if you want your people right-side-up, you’ll need to glue them to the ceiling of the camera, so they’re hanging down like bats.
Now shoot away! Here are some examples of the results…



A Letter from the new Editor, Nic Nichols.
Welcome to the new ToyCamera.com. Over the last decade analog photographers around the world have come here to share thoughts, images and ideas about the world of Film Photography with cheap plastic cameras. The family of users has grown each year, and continues to evolve and form the largest independent community forum on the web. With this new iteration, we hope to continue that evolution as we expand both the forum and the website.
First I want to thank Mike Barnes, who over the last eight years has held the reigns of this community. His hard work and diligence brought the community to new levels, and while he has decided to pass the torch, he will remain a vital part of the ToyCamera community and keep a close watch over Light Leaks magazine.
For those who do not know me, I edit the blog ‘Four Corners Dark’, and own FourCornerStore.com, both ventures dedicated to searching out and supplying the most obscure films, cameras and accessories that we can find. I have been active in the Toy Camera community for nearly 20 years, starting with a yard sale Diana and eventually collecting more little plastic gems then can comfortably fit in my house.
When the call went out for a team to take over the ToyCamera.com site, I immediately jumped at the chance. I am excited not only for the challenge of building the brand and expanding the site, but to continue what I think is the best analog forum on the web.
We see ToyCamera.com as a group effort, where all photographers who share a passion for low-fi images can work together and pool our resources; collectively building the best portal that we can. We will have an open policy to review all brands of cameras and film, and welcome submissions from our readers.
As your new Editor, it is my goal to build a dynamic portal, streaming information from dozens of sites, RSS feeds, Twitters, Flickr’s and more. The front page will be ever changing, and updated automatically as Toy Cam blogs around the world publish new posts. It will truly be a one-stop site for all things Toy Camera, and of course will maintain the forum that has made the site famous.
I hope that you enjoy the site, and help it grow as a valuable resource in our analog community.
Nic Nichols
Chris Biedrzycki is a lifelong Maine resident and lives with his wife and daughter in a century old house, in the town he grew up in. A mailman by day, he is an artist, photographer, welder, filmmaker and scavenger, by night. Without any formal schooling or training, Chris obsesses about and works with vintage materials, machines and image capturing devices of the past. Never fond of the mainstream, he has created alternate ways of making things and making things work for most of his life. Always drawn to the past, the authentic and original way of producing images, he has continued to source 8mm film cameras, 16 mm film and cameras and vintage, toy, and obsolete cameras in unexpected places. Happy to pick through the metal bin at any local dump to salvage another man’s trash, Chris has amassed an impressive collection of curious and old things which eventually get incorporated into one project or another.