Darkroom's Quiet

There is something I miss in the digital age.

The silence of a darkroom. Solitude. Perhaps the only sound is slowly running water to wash a print. Or a print dryer blowing warm air. The paper safe door snapping shut.

Not really dark despite its name, the room is lit with the warm glow of a safelight. Once-white stained trays of developer and fixer. Subtle rhythmic sounds of developer sloshing in trays being tipped from side to side. Quiet and stillness to inspect a developing print. The sound of fingers rubbing bright spots to accelerate development. Shaking a wet print before sliding it into fixer. Squeegeeing away water before drying.

Printing is a singular event just as pressing the shutter is reserved for one person.

Even when two photographers are printing at the same time the quiet remains. Disturbed only by announcements of success or failure.

Yet even in the dark with the only sound a calming, subtle ASMR collection of necessity there was a camaraderie expressed in silence. In a shared experience. In a shared space. Close to each other in proximity and desire. To the same purpose.

I miss the darkroom.