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Writer's pictureАнђела Петровски

The Light Through My Grandpa’s Camera / Svetlost Kroz Dedin Fotoaparat

There is magic in old analog cameras. The grainy quality and subtle imperfections capture more than an image – they capture time. This became even more profound when the camera belonged to my grandfather from Struga, North Macedonia, a member of the Turkish minority.


In 2020, my grandmother gave me the Yashica-J camera, made in 1961 and used by my

grandfather for over 50 years before his passing. Since then, I have captured Struga and Ohrid, reflecting on my childhood summers.


My grandfather was a man of precision and discipline, with a keen eye for detail. While

photographing Lake Ohrid, I felt his presence, guiding me to frame the scenery and the essence of our shared past.


In today’s fast-paced digital world, I wonder if we are losing something previous generations understood. For my grandfather, photography was not just about capturing moments but preserving them. He left behind over 1,000 images of family members.


My grandmother recalls how he would stay up all night in his small darkroom, waking to dozens of drying photos scattered around the living room.


Growing up in Skopje, my summers at Lake Ohrid felt timeless. My friends and I knew the quiet paths and best beach spots even with tourists. Now, using the same camera, those places do not look modern or busy – they seem eternal.


I felt connected to the past as I developed 12 photos of Struga and Ohrid, including my grandmother’s famous cheese pie. The light through the lens is not just sunlight; it’s the guidance of past generations, showing us how to see the world and keep our memories alive.


Though the world around Lake Ohrid changes, the light remains – reminding me of the summers I spent by its shores.


Photo and text: Arin Agich




 



Postoji magija u starim analognim fotoaparatima. Zrnasti kvalitet i suptilne nesavršenosti hvataju više od slike – hvataju vreme. To postaje još značajnije kada fotoaparat kojim radim pripada mom dedi iz Struge, Severna Makedonija, članu turske manjine.


Godine 2020, baka mi je poklonila Yashica-J fotoaparat, napravljen 1961. godine, koji je moj deda koristio više od 50 godina pre nego što je preminuo. Od tada, snimam Strugu i Ohrid, prisećajući se svojih letnjih raspusta iz detinjstva.


Moj deda je bio čovek preciznosti i discipline, s izuzetnim okom za detalje. Dok sam fotografisala Ohridsko jezero, osetila sam njegovo prisustvo, kako me vodi da uokvirim pejzaž i suštinu naše zajedničke prošlosti.


U današnjem brzom digitalnom svetu, pitam se da li gubimo nešto što su prethodne generacije razumele. Za mog dedu, fotografija nije bila samo beleženje trenutaka, već njihovo čuvanje. Ostavio je iza sebe preko 1.000 slika članova porodice.


Moja baka se seća kako bi ostajao budan celu noć u svojoj maloj tamnoj komori, a ujutru bi se budili okruženi desetinama fotografija koje su se sušile po dnevnoj sobi.


Odrastajući u Skoplju, moji letnji raspusti na Ohridskom jezeru delovali su bezvremeno. Moji prijatelji i ja smo znali mirne staze i najbolje plaže, čak i sa prisustvom turista. Sada, koristeći isti fotoaparat, ta mesta ne izgledaju moderno ni užurbano – izgledaju večno.


Osetila sam povezanost s prošlošću dok sam razvijala 12 fotografija Struge i Ohrida, uključujući i bakinu poznatu pitu sa sirom. Svetlost kroz objektiv nije samo sunčeva svetlost; to je vođstvo prethodnih generacija koje nam pokazuju kako da vidimo svet i sačuvamo naše uspomene.


Iako se svet oko Ohridskog jezera menja, svetlost ostaje – podsećajući me na leta provedena na njegovim obalama.


Fotografija i tekst: Arin Agich






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