When news broke last month that Polaroid is discontinuing production of its iconic instant film, fans of the once-revolutionary technology despaired.
For many reasons, they loved the pictures that developed right before their eyes. The prospect of storing millions of digital images on hard drives left them cold.
Some Polaroid lovers are moved by the novelty factor – the marvelous kitschy-ness of a moment captured so quickly and so tangibly. Artists admire the medium's rich colour and textural qualities. Hip-hop artists Outkast commemorated the Polaroid phenomenon in their 2004 song, "Hey, ya!"
Some industries simply find the process and the product enormously convenient.
Alecia Bell of Elite modelling agency in Toronto admits she's heartsick.
"I'm not a talented photographer. But Polaroid pictures always made people look good," she says. "We contemplated hoarding boxes of the film but we decided not to postpone the inevitable. Our whole business has gone electronic. So now we're using digital photography, then printing it out if we need to."
Fashion has been hit hard.
Modelling agencies use them for quick portraits of potential new recruits. Backstage at runway shows, Polaroid pictures accompany each model's ensemble (shoes, bag, dress, even makeup and hair) as the clothing hangs on rolling racks. The images show precisely how each "look" should come together.
According to an "obituary" published during London Fashion Week recently, the impact of the announcement is profound. "It's like seeing a bit of our childhood vanish," the notice wept. "So as you tuck into your cocktails tonight, raise a glass in farewell to an integral part of the fashion industry ... It's the end of an era, folks."
While Bell reluctantly presses on, others are resisting.
Stockpiling is rampant and suppliers find themselves struggling to meet demand.
One retail website that prides itself on a quick turnaround now declares: "Due to the dramatically increased number of orders, after the recent announcement ... we are currently not able to process and ship all orders within 24 hours as stated."
Polaroid Corp., based in Concord, Mass., announced in early February that it plans to close factories in Massachusetts, Mexico and the Netherlands. The instant film will be available in stores into 2009.
Still, the company has held out some hope that it will find "a partner to acquire licensing rights, in hopes that another firm will continue making the instant film and keep limited supplies available," The Associated Press reports.
Polaroid introduced its first instant camera in 1948. The company had 21,000 employees by 1978 and flourished until 2001, when it declared bankruptcy, an apparent victim of digital's supremacy.
Many other industries have been blindsided by the announcement.
Artists, archeologists, dermatologists, dentists and even crime investigators grieve its passing.
Jane Corkin of Toronto's Corkin Gallery stresses that instant film is critically important to some artistic practices.
She will miss more than just the product. "Polaroid was active as a collector and was very generous to artists. They gave back to the community," she says.
Canadian artist Barbara Astman, 57, a photography professor at the Ontario College of Art & Design, says, "I am in mourning. As an artist who has worked with Polaroid technology since the 1970s this is sad news."
Astman says she'll miss the "instant gratification" associated with Polaroid film.
"It particularly suited the energy of a young artist."
Astman teaches a course on "experimental processes" that may have to be cancelled because Polaroid film was at the core of her approach. "Some students have already told me they are heartbroken."
Polaroid pictures offered a "rich, painterly colour," Astman says. Like many other artists, she uses the Polaroid as a starting point after which she might re-photograph the original, scan it or manipulate it, or create a collage with multiple images.
"I can rip them apart, alter them, pile them up, re-photograph them and create a new vision. It is a more physical way of working with photography," she says.
For now, Astman comforts herself with her collection of 12 Polaroid cameras, particularly her silver and brown leather, special edition SX-70. "It folded down into this slim, sexy, gorgeous shape."
And takes some solace that her fridge is brimming with the soon-to-be precious film.
