I Quit Colour Photography…
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What I love about photography - especially film photography (but the same goes for digital) - is the endless scope for being a beginner again. It’s a medium that constantly invites you to start fresh, to approach it with the same excitement and curiosity you felt when you first picked up a camera.
There’s always something new to try: experimenting with flash for the first time, diving into the complexities of shooting on film, exploring a different focal length, venturing into unfamiliar subject matter, or drawing inspiration from a fresh set of influences. The opportunities to step outside your comfort zone and learn are limitless. That’s what keeps photography exciting and dynamic - this endless cycle of discovery and growth, at least it does for me. When I approach photography the same way over and over I get bored, so I’m always looking for little tweaks or new ways of working that freshen it up for me.
Colour has always been at the heart of my work. I’m an emotional person, and I naturally gravitate towards capturing people and their emotions on the street. Colour plays such a significant role in conveying those emotions. The way hues interact, the subtle shifts in tone, and the vibrant splashes of life in a scene - all of it draws me in. I’ve always considered myself a colour photographer. Black and white has been a rare detour, reserved only for those occasional frames where colour somehow detracted rather than added. Even then, switching to monochrome often felt like a compromise - a consolation prize rather than a deliberate choice. At least, that’s how it was. Until the clocks changed.
Istanbul is a colourful city and I really wanted to convey that in my photos from my trip there.
Here in the UK, the clocks shifted for daylight savings in October, marking the start of shorter days and significantly less light. It’s a seasonal reality I hadn’t properly accounted for when I fell head-over-heels for film photography over the summer. I spent months burning through rolls of Portra 400, capturing sunlit moments and steadily depleting my savings in the process. But then came winter - a season of murky skies, weak daylight, and an unrelenting gloom that makes vibrant colour feel like an impossible dream. In a last-ditch effort to cling to colour photography, I tried a cheap roll of Candido 800 on a dreary November day in London. The results? Almost entirely rubbish.
These two photos came out well and I like them a lot but I was really unimpressed with Candido 800 and can’t see me shooting with it again.
So there I was, having just invested in a beautiful Leica M4-2, staring down months of uninspiring light. What now? Hibernate until spring? Fall back on digital photography for the season? No, that didn’t feel right. Instead, I decided to lean into the challenge. I would embrace the season’s constraints and try something new. I would give black and white film a shot.
But what about the colour? The colour I love so deeply - the colour that sparks my creativity, that tells stories, that reveals emotion in ways nothing else can? How could I set that aside? I admit, I was really unsure. That was, until I loaded my first roll of Tri-X into my Leica and stepped out to shoot.
My first black and white shots on Remembrance Sunday in Cheltenham
What a revelation. Shooting in black and white felt like discovering photography all over again. The absence of colour shifted my focus. I began to see the world differently. Instead of chasing vibrant hues, I’m seeking out contrast, texture, and light. I’m concentrating on composition and emotion without being concerned about the distractions of colour in a scene. Every frame feels like an opportunity to explore something new. I’m finding inspiration in photographers who had mastered monochrome, and I definitely feel a thrill in experimenting without expectation and being happy failing as I learn.
Switching to only black and white for the past few months has been a joy so far - a reminder of why I fell in love with photography in the first place but also not without a lot of frustration as I’ve had to start learning a new way of observing. Finally I’ve begun to understand what I’d heard black and white photographers say in the past about ‘seeing in black and white’ - I’m not sure I see in black and white but it’s definitely changed what I look for and how I observe the world with the view to capture scenes in monochrome.
Sometimes, all it takes to reignite your passion is a change in perspective. For me, that shift came through black and white film and the willingness to embrace the winter light, however uninspiring it seemed at first. This simple change has sparked a newfound excitement and energy in my photography.
So here’s my challenge to you: try something new this weekend. It doesn’t have to be a major shift - maybe just a small experiment. Explore a new location, switch up your focal length, play with flash, or dive into a genre you’ve never considered before. Whatever it is, allow yourself the joy of being a beginner again. Who knows? It might just remind you of why you fell in love with photography in the first place.
