My father (pictured above), among many things, is a photographer. Go up into the attic of my family home and there you will find hundreds of Ilford Photographic Paper boxes full to their capacity with black and white prints and sleeves of negatives.The other day Dad was having a tidy up and he came across a strip of negatives which he didn't recognise. He scrambled out in search of a good light source to penetrate the acetate and reveal the images it held.
It bared some old photos that he had taken as an 18-year-old. Among them was this self-taken photo sitting in the back of a car wearing a suit and tie with shoulder-length hair and a moustache.
But there was one frame on this negative that revealed nothing – too underexposed to allow the light to reveal it's secret. It virtually had no image.
Intrigued to find out what this 35mm rectangle was hiding, he scanned the negative and then heavily played with some adjustment layers in Photoshop.
It resuscitated this image of my mother, aged 15, standing in front of her family home in Ranfurly Road in Gisborne. Dad took this photo after they had just met. The roses around the perimeter of the yard were planted and cared for by my British Grandfather whom I never met.
A lot of photographers hate on Photoshop these days, claiming it is slowly "killing" photography. To some extent I agree. But in this case, I am very grateful for Photoshop's capabilities and how it revived such a beautiful and innocent photo that my father took of my mother when they first met.
Thanks, Photoshop.
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