Drew Tanner is many things: A husband and father, a skilled marketing professional, an upright bassist for not one, but two local bands (Oyo and Hominid) - and a talented analog photographer. If you’ve been down to the Ohio River Levee this summer to see the grand riverboats docked in Marietta, you may have seen Drew photographing from the shore using his 100-year-old camera. While his love for analog photography goes way back, Drew began making panoramic negatives and prints of local scenery and landmarks this year. These enormous prints are the result of a century-old process for picture making, a lost art that Drew is keeping alive through practice and documentation.

We asked Drew about how he got into analog photography, what goes into capturing and developing one of these impressive panoramic images, and why he’s decided to share more about his photography practice through social media.

How were you initially introduced to analog photography? What piqued your interest in learning more?

Growing up in the 80s and 90s, one of my older brothers was into film photography. He had a makeshift darkroom in his bedroom as a teenager, and one of his high school friends had a basement darkroom. He also got stuck with watching his little brother, so I have memories of being 8 or 9 years old and sitting in the corner of the darkroom while he and his friend developed film, made enlargements, and processed their prints. That was my first exposure to the black-and-white darkroom. Of course, at that age, you're already naturally in awe of the things your older brother is doing, and the magic of the darkroom hit me in a big way then. I was more into music as a kid, but the seed was planted.

Fast forward to college, where I was a frustrated music major studying piano and voice. When I changed majors, I wanted to take a break from music, but I was still craving a creative outlet. That's when I picked up my first camera, a classic Pentax K1000 35mm. That camera went with me on my studies abroad as an International Studies major in South Africa and Belize, and I was hooked. After college, I did a year of AmeriCorps on a campus that had a darkroom co-op. I started developing my own film there. Shortly after that, I landed a job in 2004 as a reporter and photographer for a small family-owned weekly newspaper in Marlinton, West Virginia--The Pocahontas Times. We had a Nikon D70 that I would use, but being a weekly, I also had time to shoot photos on film. I'd drop off my film at the drug store to be developed in time to scan for a given week's paper. My editor also generously allowed me to set up a darkroom in the back of the newspaper office. For those first few years, I would spend evenings after work developing my black-and-white film and making prints before I built my own darkroom at home.

“I crossed paths with a photographer traveling through the area who was into making large-format tintypes and ambrotypes, the kinds of photos that were being made back in the 1850s and 1860s.”

While working at the paper, I crossed paths with a photographer traveling through the area who was into making large-format tintypes and ambrotypes, the kinds of photos that were being made back in the 1850s and 1860s. Shortly after that, around 2010, I took my first workshop on this process, known as wet-plate collodion, which requires a whole other level of skill and patience, as you're essentially making your own 'film' from scratch for each image and developing the images right on the spot with a portable darkroom. This set me on a path for several years of traveling on weekends to make portraits for people at living history events and Civil War reenactments in West Virginia, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Kentucky.

How did you acquire your equipment and film?

Over the years, I've bought equipment from the classifieds section of photo forums, online shops that specialize in old cameras and equipment, and eBay. When I could, I made it a point to buy items like film, chemistry, and paper from a local camera store if I could find one when traveling. But now, the few camera shops that are left are mostly in major cities. In some cases, I've had to fabricate my own equipment, like the 6-foot-long plexiglass trays and the contact printing frame I've made for processing panoramic images made with the Cirkut camera. I also made my own darkroom sink to accommodate the trays, as well as a 6-foot rotary film processor from 4-inch black ABS drain pipe. So, I guess I've gotten a lot of my equipment in the lumber and plumbing aisles of the hardware store lately.

Was this your first print on the Cirkut No. 10?

I only just started making negatives and prints from the Cirkut camera in March of this year. The first couple were scenes from Savannah, Georgia, like the fountain in Forsyth Park and the oak-lined driveway of the Wormsloe historic site. This summer, I've been having fun making prints of the riverboats that have docked in Marietta, and I am looking forward to the upcoming Sternwheel Festival and LST-325 visit, among other local sights.

What was the learning curve for this camera?

Learning curve? Ha! Everything is a learning curve with this camera. The Cirkut has a wind-up clockwork mechanism that must be oiled occasionally to keep it running smoothly. Cirkut film hasn't been made for about 15 years. So, I have to spool my own film from expired rolls of black-and-white aerial film, which comes in 9.5-inch by 250-foot rolls. I cut that film down to 5- or 6-foot lengths. This has to be done in complete darkness. On a tip from other photographers, I've found a pair of toy infrared night vision goggles that help me see what I'm doing. Once I have a film spool loaded, the camera's original manual lists a 14-step "Sequence of Operations" just to take the picture. Then, I had to figure out how to develop a negative of that size evenly and without mangling it in the process, which still happens sometimes. After that comes printing and developing the equally large print.

How long did it take to develop the panorama picture?

Once I have the negative from the camera in my darkroom, developing takes about half an hour, from pre-rinse and mixing the developer to fixing the negative and pulling it out of the final rinse. I develop one negative at a time.

Can you tell me about the development process and what goes into making a quality print?

Because the negatives are already huge and capture an incredible amount of detail, Cirkut images are typically contact printed rather than enlarged. This means that the negative is laid in direct contact with photosensitive paper and exposed to light to make the printed image. For printing, regular photographic paper is a) hard to come by in the lengths necessary for a Cirkut print and b) expensive when you can find it. So, I've been embracing alternative printing techniques to make my prints. These alternative techniques were used by early photographers in the mid- to late-1800s when commercially produced photographic materials weren't as prevalent. For the prints I'm currently making, I coat my own paper to make what are called Vandyke brown prints. The process, which dates to the 1840s, was named after the rich, deep brown color the process produces. Working in dim light, I use a 3-inch Japanese hake brush to coat the paper with a light-sensitive solution that I mix in my darkroom. This coating dries for about 30 minutes before I place the paper into the contact printing frame. The printing frame sandwiches the negative between this light-sensitive paper and a sheet of glass. I then place the frame into a box that has several rows of UV lights for about 10 minutes to expose the print. After the exposure, I rinse, fix, and tone the print in a long tray in my sink and then hang it up to dry.

Do you have a favorite camera/process?

Oh, that's hard to say. The Cirkut camera and Vandyke brown printing have really captured my heart and attention lately. I just feel awestruck each time I pull a clean negative or print out of the tray. They're so large that it takes your eyes a moment to register and take in what you're seeing. And I still have a ton to learn from the camera and the printing. The extremely wide perspective has challenged me to redefine how I visualize and compose a photograph.

That said, I still enjoy making tintypes and ambrotypes, and I have a few projects brewing on that front.

Why did you decide to start sharing more about your photography and analog processes publicly?

You know, taking photos has been something I have enjoyed doing for over 20 years. In the past, I submitted my work to publications and small shows and had some luck here and there having it shown or published. It would appear in print or be hung on a wall for a few weeks, and that would be it. Today, the landscape and means of sharing your work through social media is a lot less formal and can be more conversational. I really enjoy engaging with people's comments and responses to my work and answering the questions they might have.

It's also kind of funny. I've worked in journalism, marketing, and communications throughout my professional life. And while I love to write and make still images, I have been kind of resistant to making and editing videos. But I'm finding reels and shorts to be a way to practice that set of storytelling skills in small bites. However, it does feel kind of funny to share these wide horizontal images in a vertical medium.

Do you know others/ are you part of a community of analog photographers?

There's a little more to this story. When I was living and working in Pocahontas County, I became acquainted with Doug Chadwick, a long-time professional panoramic photographer who also lived there. Doug started out as a photojournalist like I did. However, he eventually discovered the work of Rufus "Red" Ribble, who made iconic photos of West Virginia coal miners and coalfield communities in the early 1900s with a Cirkut camera. Inspired in large part by Ribble's work, Doug picked up his first Cirkut camera in the 1980s and became an accomplished and respected panoramic photographer who traveled the country making official portraits for state legislatures from Florida to California, as well as sports car clubs, congressional committees and political conventions, but also family reunions in and around Pocahontas County.

Doug was familiar with my work, my patience for working with finicky cameras and processes, and the fact that I had traveled for my tintype work. Around 2016, after I had moved to the MOV, Doug reached out to me about taking on his traveling panoramic jobs. I even shadowed him on a trip to photograph the Ohio Senate and visited him to get some insight into how he processed his panoramic photographs. However, the timing wasn't right. My kids were young, and I had just started a new job. I couldn't see how I could make that much travel work at the time.

“The Cirkut cameras remaining today are now pushing 100 years old or more and often in rough shape or missing key components. This one dates from 1921 and is a joy to use.”

Doug passed away in January of 2023, and that spring, a longtime friend of his and fellow panoramic photographer tracked me down to see if I would be interested in Doug's camera. I was kind of floored, but also honored to be entrusted with a unique camera that had captured so much. There weren't vast numbers of Cirkut cameras made to begin with. One article I came across estimated only about 1,500 No. 10 Cirkut cameras were manufactured. Most of those were made before 1931, with the last few dozen made before 1940. Of this small number, Doug's Cirkut camera was a rarity in that it was a working camera that was well-maintained and still dialed-in for production use. It was his workhorse. The Cirkut cameras remaining today are now pushing 100 years old or more and often in rough shape or missing key components. This one dates from 1921 and is a joy to use.

I've discovered some great mentors since I started down this path. I'm indebted to a handful of veteran Cirkut photographers who have been very generous in responding to my emails and phone calls over the past several months. I'm also part of a small Facebook group where a couple dozen of us share our triumphs and tribulations with these cameras. As I've started sharing my work lately, I've also discovered several other photographers whose work I admire and who are quick to respond to comments and messages. It's a really supportive and open community of artists.

How could someone learn more about analog photography if they were interested in trying it for themselves?

There are a lot of resources and communities online, such as photrio.com. And you can find a lot of film and alternative process photographers who are active on Instagram and YouTube. I'd encourage folks to find photographers whose work they admire, follow them, pay attention to their process, and don't be afraid to reach out and ask them questions. But the best way is to actually jump in, get some film, and try it for yourself. Find a class or sign up for a workshop where you can get your hands wet in the darkroom. Once you get going, pick up some books. I find people still refer to Ansel Adams' classic series, The Camera, The Negative, and The Print. I also keep copies of several manuals close at hand, including Way Beyond Monochrome by Ralph Lambrecht and Chris Woodhouse, the Darkroom Cookbook by Steve Anchell, The Book of Alternative Photographic Processes by Christopher James, and Jill Enfield's Guide to Photographic Alternative Processes.

You can follow Drew’s photography on Instagram and YouTube! The first three photos in this story featuring Drew’s tintype process were taken by Nate Knobel. The following photos and videos were taken and provided by Drew Tanner.