I learnt about printing in Mexico City. Film, darkroom stuff. Until then I’d never seen the inside of a darkroom, never mind one as well appointed as Pablo‘s.
Helped make prints. Peering at contact sheets, watching him work with exposure on the enlarger. Agitating the paper in the developer tray, pluck it out, stop, fix, rinse – all to Leonard Cohen, and the silent march of timer hands.
They were all right: seeing the final image appear on paper, really is like magic.
One facet of the draw of Mexico City – an incidental education in photography, literature, new ideas, concepts, philosophies on life. It was one of the reasons I remained there for so long, despite the city itself wearing away at me. The pleasure of compelling company and conversation is a rare one.
As is how amazing it was, to learn about the craft of photography with a great teacher.