Why We Take Photos

Written and photographed by Claire Hambrick, featuring an interview with Wendy Hernandez Lopez. Originally Published December 2022

A photograph tells as much about the person behind the camera as it does about who’s in front — if you pay attention. I’ve long found photography to be the one expression of any creative pursuit that resonates with me more than anything else. And I’ve tried a lot — writing, acting, music, painting, etc, but nothing gives me the agency that photography does. It’s empowering to capture images you deem worthy of being remembered and shared. If all art is a matter of connecting, photography allows me to share with others my experience and perception of the people and world around me. My love for sharing images and constructing life into a visible, tangible item is why Midas Magazine exists at all. 

Besides, what's more nostalgic than a photograph? Old photos of the past let us bridge gaps of time and distance. It’s proof that a world beyond the current one existed, that the names in your family tree aren’t just ghosts but were real people; whether it's the person in the frame or merely the fact that the person behind the camera decided this moment in time was worth preserving, unknowingly giving us something to hold on to and form theories about decades later. It’s the same reason I find so much joy in witnessing more and more people my age take film photos. The physical nature of film and print photos, which in most contexts have become extinct out of our desire for digital postable photos, lets us document the present to give the future a past to hold on to. 

The return to analog photography in younger generations is nothing new, though it is pretty illogical. It's slow, expensive, easy to mess up, and unforgiving. Our phone cameras allow us to take unlimited, high-quality photos in the blink of an eye. And, yet, something about film photography persists. We see it in the trend of disposable cameras popping up more in high schools, college parties, and celebrity Instagrams, as well as in mainstream media, with HBO’s Euphoria shooting its culture-shifting season two entirely on Kodak Ektachrome film. There’s something delightfully nostalgic about the medium that makes it worthy of our time and money even if it is antithetical to our normal expectation of ease and immediacy. If anything, the ritual of converting an image to a negative, editing, enlarging, fixing grain, cropping, uploading, or printing, is the very thing that makes it so special and resilient. 

If we think about shooting film as a way to document the future’s history, it makes it even more important to value the perspective of the photographer. One of my favorite quotes on this subject is by the late photo curator, John Szarkowski, who said that “one could compare the art of photography with the act of pointing.” Photography is a matter of turning our attention to something. It can be an act of love or an act of rebellion by fighting against our societal understanding of who has the power and authority to tell stories. One of the easiest ways to understand a culture at any given place or time is by looking at its media, TV, and movies. Since these feats typically require lots of money and access, anyone without those forms of power is often excluded from having their truth told authentically. Recording your history is crucial so that no one else can speak for you or over you. 

This semester, I met a new photographer who uses film to document her culture and community. I asked Wendy Hernandez Lopez to work on a photoshoot for Midas to accompany Jasmine Palacio’s written piece at the beginning of this issue. During the process, I got to know Wendy and her inspirations. We sat down for a conversation before the shoot to talk about photography, nostalgia, and the importance of documenting your history.