005 - How losing 2 of my cameras in remote India, lead to the creation of some of my most cherished work yet

How saying NO to one thing, means saying YES to something else

As previously mentioned, my intention with this Substack is to not only share the successes of a life of making images, but to talk in equal measure about the failures, struggles and doubts as well. And believe me; I’m drowning in them – big and small, and I’ll be using this platform to elaborate on what I’ve learned.

Today I’d like to speak to you about 1 particular incident that happened to me recently, in India, and that made me curse like a sailor in a storm, but weeks later, appeared to be the reason for discovering some of my most cherished work ever created.

All imagery you see in this newsletter belong to that series.

Let me set the scene for you first.

It was January 10, the first day of a 5-week long trip through India. I just arrived at Maha Kumbh Mela, a festival that takes places once every 12 years. And in this size camp; significance, once every 144 years.

I just came out of a 6-year long countdown to see and photograph the event. For the first time in my professional life as a photographer, I did not bring a back-up camera. Reason being, I just spent 6 weeks in the South African countryside with my family and I was not keen on traveling with the usual 40kg load.

I unzipped my tent, unpacked my camera bag, and loaded the first roll of film. Like I always do on arrival.

And when winding, the shutter dies in my hands.

Irreparably.

The only other camera in my bag is a Super8 film camera.

And while I stare at the stack of around 300+ rolls of film on my desk, I soon realized I sneaked them through 8 security checks on the way from Cape Town to Delhi for absolutely no reason. Great.

It’s 10.45pm, tomorrow the festival kicks-off.

The nearest Mamiya repair center is in Kolkata, a 15hr one-way journey away.

I decide to post a story on Instagram, calling for help. I know I have a big following in India, and hope to bear the fruits of that.

What happens next is extraordinary.

My story goes viral and gets more than 100k views (don’t ask me why). I receive hundreds of generous messages of Indian people offering their help.

As a result, I stay awake all night, thanking and answering every one of them.

But at 5am I still have no replacement camera, nowhere to be found. Not for sale, not for rent, nowhere in India.

Then a helpful gentleman from Hyderabad slides into my DM.

He owns a Mamiya RZ67ii and is kind enough to lend it to me.

Hyderabad is 1200km away. Shipping the camera will take days. No option as I am only here for a week.

Luckily some friends from Kolkata are willing to help and fetch the camera in Hyderabad!!

How grateful can one be?

I thank the universe and proceed with the festival.

In the days that follow I get more offers for similar cameras, from all across India, but I happily decline them. The solution to my problem is on its way.

The next 3 days, I shoot on iPhone and Super8 only. It feels liberating and frustrating at the same time. Liberating in its simplicity, but awful because I have two editorial magazine features due by the end of the week.

Not an easy feat without a camera.

In the end of day 4, I receive the replacement camera. With a big smile on my face, I load a roll of film. Soon to crumble in disbelief.

The camera doesn’t work…

Whatever I try, the electronic shutter doesn’t fire. It feels like a good old prank between friends. But it isn’t.

I curse for a good 2 hours.

While I try to get my hands on any of the earlier offers. But it’s too late. With only 3 more days on the festival, I have to give up.

Stuck with 2 broken cameras, I suddenly realize there’s 1 more tool in my kit. A Zinstax polaroid back I had custom built years ago. And because 1 of the 2 broken cameras still has a mechanical shutter, this polaroid back is my only option to photograph the festival.

But there’s 1 big limitation, I only have 2 packs of film.

20 slides of film, 10 in each pack.

20 photographs for the next 2 days.

I am accepting the challenge.

It’s this or nothing.

I decide to go fully intentional.

In the night I make sketches in my tent. Carefully drawing a series of moments. Scenes I was hoping to find for the only 40 exposures I would carry home with me. I took notes on where to look for them. A way of working I often apply to some of my long-term projects. But in heavy contrast with the initial point-and-shoot approach I had in mind for this event.

What happened next was beautiful.

For the first time in a long while I rediscovered what struck me so much in photography in the first place, observation.

I just sat in certain places, waiting for scenes to unfold. Had the most rewarding conversations with people while waiting.

Not feeling the necessity to constantly search for composition and light.

By doing so, I stepped into an entirely different creative universe, one that awakened a unique sensation that still lingers within me to this day. A form of true liberation, not driven by the urge for more or better, but by the pure acceptance of the moment as it was.

I shot both packs, carefully stashing away the results, showing them to no one and barely looking at them myself. Only 6 weeks later at home, when receiving the final scans from Film Verweij, I started to truly appreciate the final results, and not in the first place because of its aesthetics, narrative, shape, use of light, or form. But mostly, as a uniquely pure & exceptionally rare and vivid memory of me sitting on those banks of the Ganges river, living each and every moment, not constantly searching for the next photograph, but by simply and intuitively following the process as it unfolded.

I regard it some of my most personal work ever created in India.

I hope you agree.

Now you must be wondering, what happened the other 4 weeks of your India journey?

Well, after my first week at Kumbh Mela I flew to Kolkata.

As it turned out, that was where India’s most skilled Mamiya repairmen were based.

There’s only a handful of reliable ones left in the entire country.

Oddly enough the majority accepts your camera, takes out all good parts and returns it back to you as an empty shell, telling you it’s not repairable. Allright.

I ended up dropping both cameras with a man called Rana Patra, who’s been repairing analogue camera’s for more than 4 decades.

One got repaired, the other was declared Game Over (massive kudos to him for trying, but read on to hear the final plot twist).

And with 1 fully working camera I traveled back to the Kumbh Mela Festival.

I photographed as much as I could in the first 3 days of my second leg on the festival grounds, burning my way through a majority of the rolls that were patiently waiting for me, until ‘of course’ the shutter died again… now for good.

And all I could think of in that very moment, was that special sense of peace and contentment I was feeling when I was sitting on those river banks earlier in my trip, carefully contemplating my next image. What a bliss. A feeling forever etched into my memory. The true essence of photography.

Weeks later, arriving at home, I send in my own Mamiya camera for repair with my trusted camera mechanic, and it seems Mr. Rana Patra did not just repair the shutter, he destroyed the entire inside of my camera with grease, lubricant and unscrewing the wrong bolts and scews. A $500 repair session later, I learned my lesson.

I will forever carry a good stash of Polaroid slides with me wherever I go, knowing that the most beautiful lessons often reveal themselves in the most unexpected disguises.

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In 2 weeks from now:

As I am writing this, I am sitting in a plane on my way to Chico Review, an annual week-long portfolio review and photobook retreat in Pray, Montana, USA. My project ‘Los Puesteros’ has been selected as one of the 64 participants in this year’s edition, which means I will receive 10 portfolio reviews with industry leading curators, editors, photographers, and gallery owners. And even better, I was ranked in the top 6 out of hundreds of applications, which means I received a merit scholarship.

I could not be more stoked to submerge myself between other creators and talk life and photography for the next 7 days. In the next edition of this Substack, I will talk you through the experience, share some images of the week, and highlight some key take-outs.

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Where Else Can You Find Me?

• Website: www.pieaerts.com

• Instagram: @BecausePeopleMatter & @PieAerts

Let’s build something meaningful together.