There are very people who can teach magic. Al Karp was one of them. He was one of my photography teachers, who taught me the arcane art of black and white photography printing. Watching a print gradually appear in the developer was like magic. The dim red glow of the darkroom’s safelight added to this mysterious feeling. In the darkroom, everyone worked quietly, even reverently. However, outside the darkroom, Al would be cracking up everyone with his wicked humor. In between his jokes, he would evaluate my prints and give me his sage advice, teaching me not just about technique but more importantly about nuance.

As a filmmaking student, I wanted to learn more about motion picture film processing, but it was cost-prohibitive. Studying black and white photography printing, on the other hand, was less expensive, learning one frame at a time. This is how I met Al. After serving in the Air Force and working at Commercial Union Insurance Company, he pursued his passion and taught photography at Burbank Adult School for almost 25 years. He loved Pentax cameras and enjoyed large format photography. He used his earnings for his other passion—golf. Small in stature, he was outsize in his knowledge, warmth, and humor.

I recently learned that Al had passed away from illness before the pandemic. My own father, who’s also passed on, was a photographer in China. After he immigrated to the U.S., he worked for an aircraft x-ray lab, processing x-rays of aircraft parts. I always wanted to learn how to develop and print film from my father but never got the chance. I found a worthy substitute through Al, for whom I’m forever grateful. I’ll miss him but I’ll think of him along with my dad whenever I’m in the darkroom.

Ming Lai

To read Pasadena Star-News’ Obituary:
https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/pasadenastarnews/name/allan-karp-obituary?id=8251902