This weekend I light proofed the darkroom. And just how does one lightproof a room with lots of windows letting the light in? Well, I've discovered it's pretty easy when you're surrounded by clever people to give you ideas. Here's my process so far for setting up a DIY darkroom space.

I originally planned to put the darkroom in a spare basement closet, but quickly decided it would make more sense to use the bathroom instead. Why? It's bigger, has running water, and I don't need to run new wiring. However, the window (and the door with windows in it) in the bathroom presented a larger roadblock in terms of light proofing. Why the bathroom has a window and completely non-private door, or why a bathroom like this exists in the basement in the first place, is beside the point.

Since I still want to use the room as a spare bathroom, I chose to preserve it as is and save the light proofing for when I'm making prints. This is also one of the quickest and easiest solutions. I simply sewed together four layers of black felt and attached it with velcro around the door and window frames. I stitched in from the border a bit and left the edges loose to make it easier to smooth them against the woodwork.

After executing a very quick sewing job and sticking up some velcro strips, I put up my “darkroom curtains,” set an alarm for ten minutes, and turned out the light. After five minutes I started to make out tiny slivers of light at the top of the door and window, so I added more velcro and restarted the timer. A full ten minutes passed and, to my delight, I was still completely in the dark!

At this point I have to stop to point out the importance of spending adequate time in your darkroom before doing something rash like busting open a film canister. For a room to be safe for film, you must be unable to see ANYTHING after being in there for at least five minutes. I sat for ten just to be on the safe side. This is my cautionary word, though: just because a room looks dark for the first couple of minutes after switching off the light doesn't mean it won't fog your film. After five minutes, tiny bits of light and maybe even objects will start to appear magically before your eyes.

As you can see, the darkroom is also outfitted with a super snazzy DIY enlarger table and tray shelf. Before too long I'll paint or sand the top of the table and make a little skirt to go around the bottom. The rack can be tucked away in a closet or tub when not in use.

Overall, this project has been relatively inexpensive and easy. As a bonus, I've maintained functionality of my downstairs bathroom and the whole process is completely reversible when it comes time to move on to a new place. I like to be sensible: a person in their mid-20s might not be in the house she'll live in forever, and not every prospective home buyer will be excited by a darkroom in the basement (and no second bathroom).

The next hurdle, just discovered today: the only outlet in the room is controlled by the light switch. I think that's a funny joke for a darkroom space, don't you?

Life beyond grade school doesn't afford many snow days, but today we got lucky.  Especially considering March generally doesn't yield much snow in the Mid-Atlantic states.  I feel especially blessed today, though, because I was able to take the time to take inventory and order start-up supplies for my home darkroom. 

I've enjoyed the planning stages for my basement studio space, but nothing rivals making a monetary commitment and getting my hands on the materials to do my work.  Suddenly an idea has become an investment, and I will expect my abstract goals to crystallize.  Of course, I don't advocate buying new equipment to cure artist's block, but I do feel it's necessary to have a "craft space" for photos just like any other art form.  Digital photography has (conveniently) condensed the work space into a single piece of machinery, but this opens a rift between the artist and the craft.

To develop visual art, the artist must dedicate space, time, and resources to the creative process.  There are no shortcuts.  The easier work space and materials are to access, the better.  If I'm feeling inspired at 10:00 at night, how does it affect my process if I can just sneak down to the basement and shut myself in the darkroom for a couple hours?  Digital eases the draw on resources, but not without cost.  If I sit at a computer in the office all day, how do I feel when I come home, sit in the middle of the house, and scan my pictures from the color lab?  Does my digital art-making become less craft, more assembly-line calculations?

The truth is, I don't know.  I don't know how all-digital photographers feel when they plug in their cameras and pull off the week's photos.  For the most part, I need to retain a connection with the craft of image-making whenever possible.  Clearly doing event photography for my job is neither the time nor the place, but there is no reason for all my 110 prints to come from a mail-order lab.

Often, I feel like a dividing line exists between "fine arts" and "crafts."  We shouldn't forget, though, that both are all about creating a work of art with our hands.  I have to imagine the way a crafter feels making jewelry is similar to how I feel when I'm making prints in the darkroom.  And just like having a jewelry-making corner/table will lead to more and better work, so will setting aside a space to make my photographs.

Creating a dedicated art-making space in my home is going to be great, I can tell.  The process today proved much more time-consuming than I expected, but isn't that what snow days are for?  Now it's done, and all I have to do is wait.

As most people in the developed world must have heard by now, I've been enjoying film photography a lot lately. Specifically, I've been shooting expired 110 cartridge film. I am proud of my digital work, but at the same time the past couple years have made me realize I cannot abandon film for digital.

Lately I've been disappointed to see my photos languishing on my hard drive, and I haven't been feeling good about the change in “darkroom” environments, either. The darkroom easily ranked as my favorite place to work in college. I loved it for the solitude, the dark, the running water, the everyday magic of images conjured from silver and paper. Sitting in front of a computer screen offers no such meditative experience.

After giving it some thought and buying an ancient SLR on eBay, I am determined to bring black and white photography back into my life. Some Googling uncovered a public darkroom within walking distance of our house, but a conversation with the folks at the camera shop down the street taught me the place closed down in 2001. Baltimore now has no public darkroom space, which I find sad given all my praises of the city's amenities.

The lack of ready darkroom availability discourages me. However, if I'm going to keep experimenting, I need to shoot film. The tactile nature of the process is integral to continued discovery and critique. Hopefully enough photographers feel the same way that this won't become a lost art in coming years.

So the public darkroom is long gone and I'm not even close to being in school. What to do? Well, I'm going to build a darkroom in my basement. Honestly, it can't be that hard, can it? I already have a promising spare closet down there, and turning the basement into a photo work space was already in the plans. That I could get all the start-up supplies I need for a couple hundred dollars doesn't hurt, either, especially considering the price of negative scanning these days.

The more I think about it, the more a home darkroom seems like both a luxury and the most financially viable option I have to shoot film. I'm excited to see where this goes, and if any of my friends take sudden interest in sharing the space with me. Just because it's a little messier and a little less convenient doesn't mean we need to – or even should – give up the darkroom. Surely, there have to be be some sympathizers out there, and I'm determined to find them in coming months.

Darkroom photo via Kutztown University Fine Arts Department.