Last summer I bought and started shooting the first rolls of film that I have put through a camera since either 2008 or 2009 (Ilford XP2, 36 exposures). The urge to shoot some film started after my wife and I dug out her old Minolta Maxxum 7000i, and for less than $100 I found a couple good prime lenses for it. The original point of the exercise was to try and challenge myself to think more about each frame that I shot, because as we all know the cost of film, developing and printing is not cheap. What started out as an idea to with little focus other than to take value in every frame, very quickly turned into a new project to be excited about.
It started during a trip to my hometown. Rather than taking the same highway we have driven countless times over the years, we decide to take the long way around and drive through several small towns that we have never been to before; both to sight see and to take photos. After visiting a few small towns and villages, and taking some shots of buildings that time has seemingly forgotten, I decided that these rolls of film would be dedicated to decay in small towns around the Canadian prairies. Now when we take a drive somewhere the film camera goes in the car in case I find something I want to capture. That being said, with it being winter for the last 5 months, I haven't fired a single frame since October and haven't thought about it much lately. However, this weekend I picked up the book "Forgotten Saskatchewan" by local Saskatchewan photographer Chris Attrell which got me thinking about the photos I shot and having a look at the first roll that I have had developed.
Over the years of living in Saskatchewan and being around photographers, I grew somewhat tired of photos of abandoned barns and farm yards. Perhaps it's becuase I have seen them be the subject of so many bland photos (admittedly many taken by yours truly), but also because I actually grew up around this type of scenery. What makes them special to some people is doesn't really do much for me anymore. However, what I do find interesting is decay and forgotten buildings not in a farmyard but in small towns and villages. Looking at something that once was probably a busy set of stores or main street, but was simply abandonded to time facinates me. Exploring some of these small towns that have or are in the process of crumbling often feels like I'm looking into the future of my hometown. Part of that process facinates me but at the same time makes me kind of sad.
While these places where never likely more than just small stops scattered along the side of a road, looking at the amount of buildings that are left in some of them tell us that at one point there was a demand for this place to have a gas station, grocery store, hardware strore, and maybe a restaurant or two. Now there's maybe only a gas station remains. In some of these places the town hall, post office, and convenience store are all in the same building. Being that it is Saskatchewan there is a solid chance there is a grain elevator kicking around, but even those are dwindling more and more every year. This whole excercise has unexpectedly made me reflect on my hometown and the direction it's headed. It feels like every time I go home, there's another building that has either burned down, or the main street looks like it's deteriorating even more. There are some of these towns that we have come across in our travels that have pleasantly surprised us. We pull off the highway with little expecation to discover this nice little small town tucked away that really appears to take pride in what they have. Their small main streets are well taken care of and the older buildings are preserved. It's really nice to see, but then it makes me shake my head and ask what is it that my hometown is missing that can't be like these places. Granted, I am getting the most high level, superficial view of these towns when I pass through them but they leave a good impression. It makes me wonder what kind of impression my hometown leaves to an outsider that's simply passing through?
I have what I would call a complicated relationship with my hometown. It may be my hometown, but at the sametime not home anymore. I grew up on an acridge outside of said hometown. After my dad passed away it became too much for my mom to take care of on her own so in 2006 she sold it and moved into town. So when I go there to visit, it doesn't feel like going home, it's going to stay at mom's condo (if that makes sense). Additionally, there are a plethora of bad memories from growing up there that if I one day decide to pursue it will fill some therapists kid's college fund rather quickly. So, it's not the greatest place for me, but at the same time, I would hate to see it become just somewhere that a guy like me passes by and thinks of as just some place on the side of the road. These towns, villages, and hamlets were at some point (and still are) someone's home, and complicated relationships aside, no one wants to see their home crumble and wither away. Maybe this excercise that started off with me trying to take a handful of interesting images is really a lesson in finding value and appreciating what you have while you have it. I may not love my hometown, but there's something special about going to the ice cream shop every summer. How would I feel if one summer I went home and found it looking like the photo below: boarded up, surrounded by overgrown weeds, and with a busted up station wagon parked beside it. I have no idea what that building is but it's at somepoint it was someones life's work. Someone was there, day in day out, and now time is just reclaiming it.
At this point I kind of feel like I'm loosing the plot of whatever this post was supposed to be about so I'm going to wrap it up. I still have one more roll of film to fire off in this series, so I will circle back on this later in the year one that is shot and developed. At that point I might reconsider what I'm doing with film, because did I mention that film, developing, and printing being expensive? I've been throwing around the idea of turning my basement bathroom in to a dark room and just doing my own developing with black and white, but that might just be one more project that gets piled onto my never ending list of projects. Until then, I'm just going to try and enjoy this part of the process, not think too hard about the wallet draining part of the process, and get the most value out of each individual frame, because who knows how long this subject matter will still exist.



















