Lomography

The Story of Tori Diana and a goofy Lomographer and how they came to be so close.

The Full Analogue Circle

Last year Tori Amos, my favorite musician, announced she would be making a special edition camera through a place called Lomography.com. Being an avid photographer since high school, this funny little camera sparked my interest. It’s fragile, nostalgic design looked nothing like my military strength Nikon FE. The camera, which I learned was named Diana F+, was like origami. After about five seconds of deliberation, I ordered the camera and became formally acquainted with Lomography.com

Meeting Tori Diana

When the Diana F+ (who I named Tori Diana) showed up, I immediately began futzing with every part. The little clicks of the spool, the utterly bizarre film that only my older relatives seemed to recognize, the lightness of the body. Tori Diana was an anachronism in a digital world. I fell in love instantly.

A Lesson in Sucking

My love was put to the test when I first used Tori Diana. I did everything wrong: I exposed rolls of film, took pictures of the lens cap on, forgot to focus. I even took pictures with an empty camera. Every amateur move you can do as a photographer, I did with Tori Diana. An old familiar rage that I used to feel back in the early days with my Nikon “The Tank” FE. I began to resent my Tori Diana. I got angry for a bit, and then realized something; I was angry because I was being challenged. This tiny little camera was forcing me to pay attention to its wants and needs and I had no choice but to obey. Even the film, that monstrous 120mm film, demanded specific treatment. The intimacy of the Tori Diana was something that had to happen. I apologized to Tori Diana. And then, suddenly, we finally clicked together.

From then on we were inseparable. Tori Diana was a hit at social events (she guarantees attention) and also prompted me to go deeper into experimenting with my The Tank. Within months, I was back to analogue film almost entirely. Thanks to Lomography, I bought lenses, expired films; even cameras that I never knew existed. Tori Diana trained me to be aware of everything, to be in the moment and she caused me to grow as a photographer. I still apologize to her for being such a jerk.

Circling Back

When Tori Amos announced she would be holding a contest on Lomography.com for her new record “Night of Hunters”, I pulled out all the stops. I loaded up on props; Matryoshka dolls, dream catchers, old German newspapers, and a rather impressive model of the Statue of Liberty. I entered the contest with high hopes but low expectations. This contest was not a make or break situation. But I had enough training to feel comfortable submitting.

Eventually the winners were announced. I scanned the page of the first prize winners and I was crestfallen when I saw that I didn’t win first prize. But the winning pictures were really great and nobody likes a sore loser. I scrolled down further to see who won the runner up spots. When I saw my Statue of Liberty photo staring back at me under the “New York” section, I felt a fierce calm cover me. And then I screamed like a nine year old girl at a Justin Bieber show.

Photo by aalper

Analogue Epilogue

The whole thing still seems so crazy. Tori Amos turns me onto Lomography, Lomography sparks my analogue fever and that fever helps me win an award from the very same person who introduced Lomography to me. I am tempted to call it luck, but I think Tori Diana feels differently.

Cheers to Tori Amos, Lomography and any poor sap who read this entire blog!

-A