Fans plead not to take old Kodachrome away

ROCHESTER, N.Y. — It is an elaborately crafted photographic film, extolled for its sharpness, vivid colors and archival durability. Yet die-hard fans are convinced the digital age soon will take their Kodachrome away.

Only one commercial lab in the world, Dwayne's Photo in Parsons, Kan., still develops Kodachrome, a once-ubiquitous brand that has freeze-framed the world in rich but authentic hues since it was introduced in the Great Depression.

Eastman Kodak now makes the slide and motion-picture film in just one 35mm format, and production runs fall at least a year apart.

Kodak won't say when the last one occurred nor hint at Kodachrome's prospects. Kodachrome stocks now on sale have a 2009 expiration date. If the machines aren't fired up again, the company might just sell out the remaining supplies, and that would be the end.

For decades, Kodachrome was the standard choice for professional color photography and avant-garde filmmaking. At its peak, a reverential Paul Simon crooned "Mama, don't take my Kodachrome away" in 1973.

But the landmark color-transparency went into a tailspin a generation ago. It was eclipsed by video, easy-to-process color-negative films and a tidal-wave preference for hand-sized prints.

Nowadays, Kodachrome is confined to a small global market of devotees who wouldn't settle for anything else.

Dwayne's, the Kodak subcontractor in Kansas that has had the market to itself since a Kodachrome lab in Tokyo closed in December, still processes tens of thousands of rolls annually but admits sales are sliding.

Dwayne's charges $8.45 per roll plus $9 for development. That's at least 50 percent more than color negative film, the kind that prints are made from.

Steve McCurry's portrait of an Afghan refugee girl with haunting gray-green eyes that landed on the cover of National Geographic magazine in 1985 is considered one of the finest illustrations of the film's subtle rendering of light, contrast and color harmony.

"You just look at it and think, this is better than life," says McCurry, 58, who has relied heavily on Kodachrome for all but the past two years of a 33-year career.

McCurry is turning to digital cameras as the technology gap closes.

"I like to shoot in extremely low light, inside of a home, a mosque, a covered bazaar," he says. "To stop movement, it's just absolutely impossible to do that with Kodachrome or with practically any film."