Welcome to my first journal post! I thought I'd start my journal about an ending.
I recently read that the manufacturer of the Holga camera has ceased production of the iconic plastic camera with a Russian-sounding name. Several photo commentators has hailed this 'death' as another 'casualty of the digital age', and that very well may be the case. Holga predated Instagram as it used film (mine used 120mm film, while other less-known Holgas used 35mm film) and what was considered its trademark 'flaws' (vignetting, light leaks, fuzzy focus) was produced in-camera as opposed through the application of digital filters.
My first Holga was acquired back around 2003 when digital camera technology was starting to gain momentum and the advent of smartphones were still a good several years away from changing almost every aspect of our lives (photography included). What I liked about Holga was that each camera had its own personality, or idiosyncrasies, which was reflected in the photographs it produced. There was a certain element of chance when I pressed down Holga's shutter as I never can quite predict what the frame would look like once developed and printed. Each part of the photos' personality' (or flaw) couldn't be replicated or mimicked -- each frame was different, even just slightly, from the last.
My Holgas. She produced the photos below. I have other Holga photos that I'll post in a later journal post.
Today we live in a time the Holga's special quirks are easily reproducible by digital filters (like the ones you would find in Instagram and Hipstamatic). But in my opinion, the use of perfected algorithms to reproduce Holga's personality flaws cannot begin to match the spirit of this clunky camera, and this spirit is what made Holga special for many photographers, myself included.
Although I don't use my Holgas very much anymore, I hope of the memory of Holga may find a way to live on through Holga-enthusiasts, and that maybe someday a company can resurrect her from obsolescence.
