Back in the day—during the heyday of my analog career—I was happily living and working in Dallas, shooting everything under the sun and souping all my E6 and C41 at BWC Labs. If you know, you know. BWC wasn’t just a lab; it was a sanctuary. A temple. A coffee shop for photographers—minus the coffee, of course. But who needed caffeine when you had the sheer adrenaline rush of seeing your film come to life on the light table?
You’d walk in, film canisters rattling in your pockets, and be greeted by the hum of enlargers, the smell of chemistry, and the low murmur of photographers swapping stories. Over the light table, loupes in hand, we’d scrutinize our slides, pretending to be serious artists but mostly just trying to figure out why our white balance was off. Again. (Damn you, Tungsten!)
But BWC was more than just a film lab. It was a clubhouse. A confessional booth. A place where photographers of every stripe and skill level connected—face-to-face. And that’s the kicker.
It wasn’t just about the film; it was about the fellowship.
You could walk in on any given day and find yourself deep in conversation with a grizzled old pro lamenting the death of Kodachrome, a fresh-faced assistant begging for advice on lighting ratios, or some eccentric artist ranting about the evils of autofocus. And no one thought twice about sharing knowledge, critiquing each other’s work, or debating whether Velvia 50 was truly the nectar of the gods. (it was indeed)
There was an unspoken bond between photographers back then, forged in fixer and darkroom fumes. A camaraderie that came from the shared experience of waiting—sometimes patiently, sometimes pacing the floor—for your snip tests to come back from the lab. From the gut-wrenching moment of holding your breath as you placed your slides on the table, fearing the worst but hoping for the best.
Today? Well, today, we have Instagram, Facebook groups, and an endless parade of YouTube tutorials. We post, we like, we comment—but let’s be honest, it’s not quite the same. Social media may have given us a global stage, but somewhere along the way, we lost the tangible, in-the-trenches connection with our fellow photographers. The kind of connection that comes from looking at someone’s work in person, laughing at their mistakes, and learning from their triumphs—together.
I get it. Progress marches on. Digital is king. The darkrooms are gone, and the film labs are few and far between. But I can’t help but miss the BWC days. The days of real conversations, real friendships, and real, actual film (grain and all).
So here’s to the photographers who came before us, the ones who passed down their wisdom over light tables and lab counters. And here’s to all of us still chasing the perfect shot, no matter the medium.
May your whites never blow out, your blacks never clip, and your highlights always be just the right amount of creamy.
And may you, every now and then, find a fellow photographer to share it all with—in person.
Click.
Jack
