Compared to the instant imaging of digital cameras, the photo sessions held in the alleys with film are more like a slow-paced journey of emotional reminiscence. The red lights in the darkroom, the faint smell of developing solution, the exposed films hanging on the ropes, without the urgent sound of the shutter, only the patience of two people waiting for the images to emerge together, allowing those who like to slowly sink into the past.
I made an appointment with the boss in advance to get an experience slot. I chose a cloudy afternoon – the light was soft, perfect for taking film photos. I pushed open the door with the “Open for Business” wooden sign hanging on it. The boss was sitting behind the counter, wiping an old-fashioned film camera. Seeing you come, he smiled and handed over two film cameras: “They are all manually focused. Take your time, don’t rush.” You took the camera and first helped the other person adjust the length of the shoulder strap, “This shoulder strap is a bit long. This way it won’t slip down.”
After leaving the film studio, she strolled slowly along the alley. Holding the camera, she focused on the climbing plants at the corner of the wall. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed. You quietly raised your own camera, framing her side profile along with the climbing plants into the viewfinder, and pressed the shutter. Suddenly, she turned to look at you, “What are you shooting?” You quickly hid the camera behind your back, “Nothing, just shooting the clouds in the sky,” she smiled and came closer to have a look. You deliberately didn’t let her, and the two of you chased each other for a few steps. Her crisp laughter filled the alley.
She walked up to the entrance of an old bookstore. The paint on the wooden sign was somewhat chipped. She stopped and pointed at the old books in the window, saying, “Let’s take this one. It feels very charming.” You adjusted the camera angle for her, “Stand a little to the left, and the light will fall exactly on the sign.” After she pressed the shutter, she came closer and looked at the small window on the back of the camera together with you, “I wonder if it will look good in the picture.” You patted her shoulder, “It will definitely look good. The angle you chose is superb.”
As the evening approached, the film shooting was just finished. Back at the film processing shop, the owner led you into the darkroom. At the moment the red light came on, everything around became hazy, and the developing liquid shone faintly in the tray. You wore latex gloves and carefully placed the film into the liquid. She leaned close to watch, “How long will it take to see the image?” The owner said with a smile, “Don’t worry, wait for three minutes, the image will gradually emerge.” During the three minutes, you stared at the film in the tray, watching the blurry shadows gradually become clearer – there were the corners of the alley, the sign of the old bookstore, and her smiling face towards the camera.
While the film was drying, you two sat on the sofa in the gallery, drinking the chrysanthemum tea that the boss had prepared. She was flipping through the old photo album on the table, and suddenly said, “I wonder if the photo you secretly took of me would look good.” You took out the small photo album you had prepared in advance from your bag, “After we finish developing the photos, put the developed ones here and give them to you,” her eyes lit up, “Then I’ll also put the photo of you that I took of you in the same album.”
When they were leaving, the film had been cut into small rolls and placed in transparent bags. You were carrying the bags while she was holding the photo album, walking along the gradually darkening alley. Suddenly, she said, “Next time let’s take pictures of the autumn ginkgoes, using today’s camera.” I nodded, “OK. Then I’ll bring an extra roll of film. I’ll capture you and the ginkgoes together.”
The beauty of a date at the corner film studio is not in the quality of the photos, but in the moments when the pace slows down, when both of you look forward to and wait together. From the moment the shutter is pressed to the moment the image emerges in the darkroom, every step holds a little surprise. Those blurry yet warm film images are like small memories, freezing the heart’s excitement in the past. This makes the anticipation for the next meeting even more significant.