Film first, again: Why I’m doubling down on black and white in 2026

I’m doubling down on film photography again in 2026, and this time it feels like a conscious refusal to rush. Over the last year, film has quietly moved from being a comforting constant into something far more deliberate.

It has become the backbone of how I see, how I work, and how I want my photography to feel. Digital still exists around me, of course, but film has become the place where I slow down enough to mean what I’m doing.

For a long while, I was clear – almost stubbornly so – that my film world revolved around Fomapan 400. Bulk-rolling my own 24-exposure rolls became part of the process, not a cost-saving exercise but a ritual.

Limiting myself to fewer frames changed how I approached every scene, and Fomapan’s character suited my eye perfectly. It was honest, slightly raw, and forgiving enough to let me work instinctively.

But 2026 feels like the right moment to experiment without losing focus. I’m planning to spend real time with Ilford HP4 and Kodak Tri-X, not as novelties but as tools to understand. Each film has its own language – its own way of handling highlights, grain, and contrast – and I want to see how those voices sit alongside the way I already work, rather than forcing myself to adapt to them.

There’s also the practical reality of light. Not every scene arrives under generous skies, and I don’t want to stop shooting when the day slips into darkness. That’s where Ilford's Delta 3200 earns its place. Used carefully, it’s not about exaggerated grain or drama for drama’s sake, but about extending the hours I can work and staying responsive when light becomes scarce.

What has surprised me most about committing to film is how much I’ve enjoyed the discipline of it. Keeping my work in black and white has sharpened my thinking, especially as I’ve barely shot color for nearly three years. Without color to lean on, composition, gesture, and timing take precedence, and that constraint has become creatively freeing rather than limiting.

Still, I’m not ruling out color entirely. There’s a quiet temptation to slip a roll or two into the bag and see what happens. Not with the intention of changing direction, but simply to reawaken a different way of seeing. Sometimes stepping briefly outside a comfort zone is the quickest way to understand why you value it in the first place.

All of this work will continue to be made with my trusted 1965 Leica M2, a camera that feels increasingly central to how I photograph. Its simplicity is its strength. Paired with my 50mm Summilux-M f/1.4 or my newly acquired 35mm Summarit-M f/2.5, it offers just enough choice without encouraging indecision.

The 50mm remains my default way of seeing, intimate and direct, while the 35mm invites a slightly wider conversation with the scene. Neither lens asks for perfection; they reward presence instead. Together, they keep my kit minimal and my thinking focused, which feels more important than ever.

Doubling down on film in 2026 isn’t about nostalgia or rejecting modern tools. It’s about choosing a pace that allows mistakes, surprises, and reflection. Film demands patience, but it gives something back in return – a deeper connection to the moment, the process, and ultimately the photograph itself.

In a world that keeps accelerating, film remains my way of pushing gently in the opposite direction. This year isn’t about chasing more images, but about making fewer photographs that mean more. That, for me, is reason enough to commit all over again.

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