A Year of Black and White Film Photography with the Leica M6

Doughnuts during a cafe stop on our day trip to Southend Beach

In 2024, I set out on a personal experiment to document my kids on black and white film, using a Leica M6 and two iconic film stocks: Ilford HP5 Plus and Kodak Tri-X. This decision was a deliberate move away from the immediacy of digital photography to a more thoughtful and mindful process. Shooting with a fully manual rangefinder has changed how I approach each moment—forcing me to slow down, pay closer attention, and appreciate each shot.

Though the journey has been rewarding, I have to admit that there are days I miss the ease and convenience of my Fujifilm X100F, a camera that was my go-to for years when documenting my kids' everyday moments. It’s a piece of gear I may return to or add back into my workflow at some point. But for now, the Leica M6 has firmly established its place in my arsenal, teaching me lessons that go beyond just photography.

The Leica M6: Slowing Down and Savoring Each Shot

Shooting with the Leica M6 is an experience in itself. It’s a fully manual rangefinder, which means that unlike modern cameras, there's no autofocus or automatic exposure settings to rely on. You have to engage with every aspect of the shot—from manually focusing to metering the light and adjusting your settings accordingly. It's a slower, more deliberate process, and while that’s challenging at times (especially with kids who are constantly on the move), it’s also incredibly satisfying.

This slower pace has forced me to be more intentional. I can’t just fire off a burst of images and sift through them later for the best one. I have to think about composition, light, and the emotion of the moment before I press the shutter. With only 36 exposures per roll, every frame counts.

There have been moments when I’ve been so focused on the technical aspects of the shot—setting the right aperture and shutter speed, checking focus—that the perfect moment slipped away before I could capture it. But this has taught me patience, and to embrace imperfection. The beauty of film lies not only in what you capture but also in what you miss, the fleeting moments that only exist in your memory.

Choosing Ilford HP5 Plus and Kodak Tri-X for Childhood Memories

For this project, I chose two classic black and white films: Ilford HP5 Plus and Kodak Tri-X. Both have stood the test of time and are renowned for their tonality and grain, making them ideal for capturing the range of emotions and energy my kids express on a daily basis.

Ilford HP5 Plus: With its fine grain and slightly lower contrast, this film shines in indoor, low-light settings, where much of our daily family life takes place. It’s flexible and forgiving, allowing me to shoot indoors without worrying too much about harsh lighting conditions. Whether the kids are curled up reading on the couch or playing quietly in their room, HP5 Plus captures the softer, more intimate side of childhood.
Kodak Tri-X: Known for its bold contrast and gritty texture, Tri-X is perfect for those high-energy moments. It thrives in outdoor settings with bright light, and the grain structure adds a rawness that makes the images feel timeless. It’s the perfect match for documenting my kids’ endless energy—whether they’re running through the park or racing their bikes down the street.

The black and white tones strip away the distractions of color and allow the focus to remain on the expressions, emotions, and interplay of light and shadow. Both films have a nostalgic quality that somehow makes each moment feel more significant, as if these everyday memories are already becoming pieces of the past.

The Challenges of Shooting Film—and Almost Losing a Roll

Shooting with film, especially a manual camera like the M6, comes with its share of challenges. The most obvious one is that you can’t see your results immediately. There’s no instant feedback, no reviewing shots to see if you nailed the focus or exposure. You have to trust your instincts, knowing that you won’t see the final result until the film is developed.

A mistake I made early in this experiment was accidentally opening the back of the camera before rewinding the film. It’s an easy error for anyone new to manual film cameras, but the consequences are real. There’s a chance I’ve ruined the entire roll by exposing it to light, losing precious memories in the process. I won’t know the extent of the damage until I get the roll developed. This incident reminded me of how fragile the medium of film can be—there’s no undo button, and each mistake costs more than just a wasted shot.

Missing My Fujifilm X100F: The Ease of Digital Photography

As much as I’ve loved the tactile, deliberate nature of shooting with the M6, there are days when I miss the ease of my Fujifilm X100F. For years, the X100F was my trusted companion for documenting everyday family life. Its hybrid viewfinder, quick autofocus, and intuitive controls made it effortless to capture fleeting moments—something that can be difficult to do with a fully manual film camera.

With the X100F, I could take hundreds of photos in a single day, instantly reviewing them and adjusting as needed. Its film simulations allowed me to play with different looks and tones in real-time, and the built-in filters mimicked classic film stocks like Kodak Tri-X with impressive accuracy. There’s a certain convenience to digital that’s hard to ignore, especially when you’re trying to keep up with fast-moving kids.

I’ve found myself tempted, at times, to switch back to digital or at least bring the X100F back into the mix. It’s a camera I’ll likely return to at some point, maybe for quicker documentary-style shooting when the pace of life gets hectic. But even if I do add it back, the Leica M6 will remain a staple in my kit for the lessons it has taught me about slowing down, being intentional, and appreciating the art of photography.

Rediscovering Patience and the Joy of Waiting

One of the most significant differences between film and digital is the waiting process. After shooting a roll of film, I take it to a local lab and wait—sometimes for a week or more—before I can see the results. In our instant gratification culture, this waiting can feel excruciating, but it’s also part of the charm.

When I finally get the negatives back, there’s a unique thrill in rediscovering moments I’d forgotten I’d captured. The surprises—both good and bad—are part of the experience. Some shots turn out beautifully, while others may be out of focus or poorly exposed, but each roll is a learning process. The imperfections are part of what makes film so human and tangible.

The Emotional Power of Black & White Photography

There’s something timeless and raw about black and white photography. Without the distraction of color, the focus shifts to the light, the shadows, and the emotions in the frame. In documenting my kids, black and white film has added a layer of emotional depth to their everyday moments.

Whether it’s a quiet, tender moment or an energetic burst of play, the lack of color allows the viewer to focus on the essence of the scene. The nostalgia and timelessness of black and white somehow make these fleeting childhood moments feel more permanent, more monumental.

Conclusion: Balancing Film and Digital in the Future

This yearlong experiment of documenting my kids with the Leica M6 on Ilford HP5 Plus and Kodak Tri-X has been a rewarding, challenging, and deeply personal experience. It’s reminded me of the joy of slowing down, of being intentional with each shot, and of embracing the imperfections that come with shooting film.

While I do miss my Fujifilm X100F at times for its convenience and ease, I’m not quite ready to return to digital full-time. The Leica M6 has earned its place in my arsenal, and I plan to continue using it, even if I eventually bring the X100F back for day-to-day documentary work. For now, the magic of film has a hold on me, and I’m savoring every slow, deliberate frame.