Cell Phone cameras have come a long way from the singular, low-resolution lenses tacked on the back corner of flip phones and Blackberries you had to break your wrist to snap a selfie with. With each new smartphone release comes upgraded photo features. First, it was a simple front and back camera, but now we’re three lenses deep with cinematic-like recording capabilities, and some are saying the iPhone's quality has gotten a little too good, like unsettlingly so [see: The Atlantic article: My New iPhone Is Making Me Look Uglier]. Smartphone cameras have advanced to a point where every pore, crease, and detail on our faces and in our surroundings can be picked up in HD, which is not the greatest for aesthetic purposes, but it also eliminates the need to own a separate camera to take quality photos. Smartphones in general eliminate the need for so many items, services, and interactions because they've all been squeezed into one catch-all device. With all the convenience they offer us, we start to miss things and places our smartphones have replaced like phone booths, internet cafes, typewriters, record players, and more.
Life has become very online as a result, and at times it's hard to separate our real lives from our digital ones. It feels like everything somehow circles back to our phones: need to chat with a friend—use your phone; want to watch a movie—open a streaming app on your phone; craving a meal—order it on your phone. These devices and our dependency on them are beginning to play a large role in our identities, and it’s a challenge figuring out how to balance using them without becoming too detached from the world around us. In response to this conundrum, people are gravitating back to forms that feel tangible, items we can reach for, and places to go to, instead of the phone. Using an old digital camera or film camera to take pictures, even if the photos will be viewed digitally and not in print, in a strange way makes the act of taking a picture feel more legitimate. Our phones can do almost everything, but the only thing a camera can do is take a picture. There's no flipping between apps, or getting distracted by notifications, you take the picture and put it down. The convenience phones provide is at times a detriment to our attention span and ability to stay present while we do things. A lot of the appeal of using a physical camera is in the fact that the act of it allows us to stay present in the moment we’re trying to save. The appeal is also in the appearance of these images. Unlike the super high resolution and quality of smartphone pictures that show every pore, shadow, and glare of light—there is a smoothness and evenness to the way digital camera images look. They feel cleaner and simpler, capturing just enough of the moment without forcing your eye toward every busy detail of the frame.
Along with more people reaching for their old cameras, they’re creating separate IG pages and blogs dedicated to displaying the images, almost like a digital photo album. It's the same reason we frame and hang images we love, or tuck prints behind the plastic film of a bound book, we hold these moments close and want them to be experienced in a special way. Swiping through a carousel of images on Instagram is the online equivalent of flipping through filmy pages of a photo album. There is no real escaping the digital world today, but this is one way people are trying to preserve and reimagine the comfort and nostalgia we associate with more tangible media. It also goes to show that if the internet is going to be a space we must occupy daily, it should be beautiful and meaningful too.
We aren’t just bringing tangibility online, but incorporating it back into real life by embracing maximalism again. It's not about materialism though, but rather surrounding ourselves with items that serve distinct purposes, carry meaning, and help us hold on to moments. Actions like adorning bags and bracelets with a plethora of collected charms, sticking stickers on water bottles and laptop covers, and covering bedroom walls with posters are other ways I think we fulfill the craving for tangible evidence of our lives. Behind a screen so often we miss out on the sensory stimulation of sounds, feelings, and smells so we compensate for that by returning to environments that invoke all the senses like watching a movie in a theater or listening to music live or on vinyl or CD. This appreciation for everyday items and environments reminded me of the shift in the way art was classified and consumed during the Art Nouveau movement.
Art Nouveau was a movement of art that emerged in the 1880s. It was a moving away from the traditional view of fine arts as separate and elevated from the experiences and objects of everyday life, instead embracing the mundane and applying the same principles of art and design to everyday structures. A staircase, vase, or ceramic bowl by this new view were no less pieces of art than an oil painting or marble sculpture. Art did not have to be separate from the functionality of life, in fact, beauty in these objects enhanced life. This movement communicates the idea that all spaces of life can and should be infused with beautiful objects and reminders. It also invited artisans and handicrafters into the world of art and the broader public as an audience.
Our society is beginning to accept and understand that the internet is a new sort of public space, but despite how online the world is becoming, there is still a great stigma around existing online both personally and professionally. Many people experience a sense of embarrassment posting online, and even people who have turned content creation into a full-time career sometimes feel a need to transition into more traditional media to feel legitimate in their fields.
Like the Art Nouveau movement, we’re experiencing another shift where people are realizing that art can and should exist online and still hold the same value and impact. Through this view, a carefully curated Instagram film dump page or thoughtfully designed IG story birthday post can be art, too. The assumption with technology and social media is that they are inherently simple because many people have access to it and many of the tools are built in. But the truth is, we don't always have to give in to the simplicity that our phones provide, and the simple act of taking a photo on a digital camera and uploading it to Instagram is just one small way people are attempting to bring nuance and thought back into the process.
In a way, the Instagram Explore page is kind of like a living room wall, bedside table, or even art gallery, displaying precious moments, keepsakes, and art. While these digital spaces aren’t real and tangible, we still are, and we can sprinkle bits of our humanity into them.
Plsss I'm so glad I found your Substack, this is a gold mine
really enjoyed this! showed me a perspective on the internet and social media i hadn't really considered. brilliant writeup!