Post-processing — the phoenix from the ashes of the darkroom?

Post-processing — the phoenix from the ashes of the darkroom?

There’s more to photography than just taking pictures.

In this, the first of two introspective articles on how we, as photographers, manage the other aspects of our work, I reflect on whether post-processing is the best term to describe our creative workflow.

From exposure, through development, to production — is post-processing just workflow?

Post-processing is a term that puzzles me because prefixing a word stem with post implies something that takes place after the event that the stem refers to but, for some strange reason, post-processing does not mean after processing, it means the actual processing itself; that is to say, the processes that take place during and after importing the images from the camera. Hmm, for the moment, I’ll park this semantic anomaly and dive straight into an evaluation of photographic workflow.

So, we’ve captured our images — what next?

In part, the answer to that question depends on the purpose behind taking the images in the first place but, regardless of the ultimate goal, the steps required to reach it constitute post-processing or, more accurately in my book, workflow. The two most obvious stages of the process are the first and the last — the first being to transfer the images from the camera to a computer and the last being to, in some way, publish them. For the very casual photographer, these two steps might easily be wrapped into one, by printing the images directly from the memory card using either a suitable home printer or by visiting a print shop but, for most photographers, there is a sequence of other processes sandwiched between downloading and publishing and it is here that we find the focus for today’s article.

Is the comparison between modern digital processes and the traditional darkroom valid?

A new term called the digital darkroom has crept into the lexicon of photography. It has a sense that attempts to ensure that there is no separation between the workflow process itself and the technology that underpins it. It’s an analogy that I understand but regard as poor. One that can, at best, only be described as conceptual. The similarities are too few and the differences too many. For someone who honed their craft processing wet film in a wet darkroom, I find it difficult to map enough convergence between the digital and chemical processes.

Where, in the modern-day workflow, is the equivalent to working in the dark, as one painstakingly threads a roll of film onto a developing tank spiral? Clearly, it’s in the camera, as it delivers us fully developed positives, which means that half of the digital darkroom paradigm disappears at a stroke.

Where, in the old workflow, did cataloguing and archiving take place? If done at all, it certainly wasn’t a darkroom process.

Don’t get me wrong, my argument has nothing to do with comparing a process traditionally carried out in the dark with one that can now be performed in the light — though Adobe® didn’t call their Photoshop companion product Lightroom for nothing — no, it’s something deeper. Something like making a comparison between pumping iron in the gym and pumping steroids in the bathroom. They are each likely to result in muscle development but would we feel comfortable calling the latter, chemical exercise?

Perhaps it’s the sheer strength of the similarities that validates the comparison?

There are two elements of the digital workflow that unequivocally mirror darkroom processes — in spirit, if not in execution — and they are image editing, and image printing/publishing. Indeed, it is the consideration that digitally editing an image is the modern equivalent to the old darkroom techniques of dodging and burning that is most frequently put forward as the strongest argument for coining the phrase, the digital darkroom. Plus, I see another comparison that lends even greater validity to this argument: in both the digital and the wet film workflow, the image editing and printing stages are entirely optional. For example, in the same way that I never dodged or burned in my darkroom days, I neither use nor own a copy of Adobe® Photoshop today.

Post-processing? Workflow? Digital darkroom? Does it really matter what we call it?

I was going to say, “Probably not,” but, on refection, I think it probably does. If we include the word darkroom in our digital workflow then we are seen to hark back to an age that offered so much potential for things to go wrong — light leakage, scratched negatives, timing issues, chemistry mistakes, and enlarger errors to name but a few — when, instead, we should be celebrating all the incredible benefits that the digital medium has made available to us today,

But what else would we call it? Perhaps, lightroom if Adobe® hadn’t registered it as a trademark. But wait. The darkroom was simply the place where the developing and processing took place so, maybe, we should take a leaf out of the print industry’s book and call it what it is — Desktop D&P or Digital D&P?

Parting shot

Even with its semantic anomaly, post-processing is the term that will survive to represent, not something that evolved out of the darkroom, but something that is a natural extension of the digital revolution in photography itself.

As for the darkroom, there are no dying ashes because, for many enthusiasts, the fire remains very much alive.

The second of my two post-processing articles will offer a more personal perspective by examining my own workflow, how it has evolved and the philosophy behind it.

Nigel Fawcett

One of the many benefits of being retired is that I get to spend so much more time in the great outdoors, not only as a photographer but in exercising one of my other great passions — hill walking. This is a particularly good fit when one’s photography centres around nature and the landscape. There can be few better places to do that than here in the beautiful mountains of Tuscany.