We don't expect technologies and human beings to enjoy similar lifespans in this accelerated age.
Rapid obsolescence is the norm, "On to the next!" the prevailing battle cry of the digital era. Small surprise, then, that the announcement this past week that Kodak was finally ceasing production of its storied Kodachrome film line after 74 years provoked so many printed expressions of sadness and nostalgia.
Even if you knew this day was coming – and, most devotees agree, the writing's been on the wall for 10 or 15 years – you had to keep rooting that this epoch-defining slide film unveiled in 1936 and which dominated the gleaming pages of Time, Life and National Geographic well into the 1980s would keep improbably hanging on against the onslaught of point-and-shoot digital cameras.
"I saw this thing coming five years ago," says Daniel Bayer, a professional photographer from Aspen, Colo. "My only concern was that we could keep the film around long enough and, more importantly, the processing long enough to celebrate it at 75, meaning we could shoot photos in its 75th year." Bayer has lately made it his life's mission to document as much of the U.S. as he can in Kodachrome's uniquely rich colour palette. "Whether or not the film was made yesterday or what roll it came off, who cares? It's still Kodachrome. It's still alive.
"I'll probably grieve after the film can literally no longer be processed."
The Kodachrome Project, as he's dubbed it, is in a double race against time. Bayer has hoarded close to 900 rolls of unexposed Kodachrome against the inevitable – the day Kodak's warehouse stocks of the film are emptied.
