Lights, camera…gone? The slow fade of India’s OG photostudios | India News

Seedhe baitho! Chin up, look a little to the left… and perfect!Remember those classic studio photos you grew up with? The dark velvet curtains, a plastic flower vase or a carved chair tucked to the side, and that soft glow on every face. Maybe it’s a passport photo, a neatly dressed family portrait, or that slightly stiff school picture but you must have come across at least one such image in an old album, tucked away with documents, or framed on your living room walls.But that era of ‘OG’ images is now far behind. Those neighbourhood photo studios, once packed with people chasing the perfect frame, are now struggling to stay afloat. That curious trip to the nearby ‘Suresh Photo Studio’ has quietly been replaced by the search for that perfect filter.It all began when cameras moved beyond studios and into everyday homes. While photography had existed in India since the 1840s, it only became truly common at a household level in the late 1990s and early 2000s, when digital cameras started replacing film.Before that, most families relied on film cameras from brands like Kodak and Agfa, or visited local studios for important pictures, as film rolls were limited and developing them cost money.

A gradual shift

The shift came with affordable digital cameras from companies like Sony, Canon, and Nikon, which made photography instant and unlimited. By the 2010s, smartphones from Samsung and Apple made it universal, turning photography into an everyday habit rather than a planned event, and, in hindsight, making those old studio portraits feel even more special.

Ironically, even a photo giant like Kodak, which invented the digital camera in 1975 through Steve Sasson, failed to benefit from this shift and ultimately collapsed. Despite knowing digital would replace film, it clung to its traditional business, making weak strategic and leadership choices. By the time it tried to adapt, competitors had already taken over, turning Kodak into a classic example of missing a revolution it helped create.But Kodak wasn’t the only one that took a hit. The impact was felt just as strongly by neighbourhood photo studios that once thrived at the centre of it all.

From long queues to silence

Those small shops where people would patiently wait their turn for a single good picture are now left in an eerie silence. Over time, the need to capture everything began to fade as what was once an occasion turned into a habit. Now studios are left wondering where they fit in.For many photographers, the change has been hard to miss. Navneet Kumar Sharma, a generational photographer with 35 years of experience, recalls how different things were in the 1990s. “When I first entered the business, I would work anywhere between 16 to 20 hours a day, and even then, the work never seemed to end. There was always something pending,” he told TOI. “Back then, studios were almost always full, barely a moment to pause.”Today, that rush has all but disappeared. The Jaipur-based photographer says the rise of smartphones and easy access to cameras has taken a clear toll on his business, with bookings nearly drying up. “We hardly get any appointments now, even during festivals that once filled our registers,” he says. “Occasions like Gangaur, Diwali, or even birthdays used to be a steady source of income two decades ago, but now they’ve almost disappeared. Now customers only come for passport-size photos.”

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Romi, a middle-aged photographer, voices the same situation. “We used to think photography was a safe profession because people will always want their photos clicked, that’s how memories live,” he says. “But the shift has been both sudden and gradual at the same time. Smartphones were basically the AI of that era, taking jobs here and there.”And for some, adapting wasn’t enough. Girdhar, another photographer, says the shift pushed him out of his family’s studio and into a different job altogether. “I still work with cameras because growing up, that’s all I knew. I saw my father do it, and it became my world too. I’ve been obsessed with the profession.”“The thought of learning something else never really crossed my mind,” he added.

Then VS Now — How a day in your life looks?

From busy studios to silent waiting rooms“To sum it up in one word, everyday now looks like a struggle,” Sharma said, reflecting on how drastically his work life has changed over the years. “It is almost the same every day—unlocking the gates in the morning and then sitting and waiting for customers to walk in,” he added.He explained how even the nature of customers has changed. “The footfall is already down, and those who do come are mostly here only for passport-sized photos. The whole job gets over in five minutes,” he said.When photo sessions became five-minute jobsRecalling earlier days, Sharma spoke about a very different atmosphere inside the studio. “Earlier, people would come in for proper photo sessions. They would pose, we would adjust the lights, fix the curtains, change props here and there, it felt like a full setup. There was a kind of liveliness in the studio all the time,” he said. “Now, it’s just the hope of getting a new order, a birthday, a wedding, a corporate event, anything that brings some work in.”

Digital disruption and other challengesSharma also pointed out how the entire profession has transformed with technology. “Earlier photography and today’s photography are like day and night, there’s a huge difference,” he said. “Back then, there was a standard rate and a standard way of working. But now, with digital, there is no reel cost, no cassette expense, everything has become smart and digital, stored on cards. Because of this, it is very difficult for photographers to stick to one fixed rate. One person does a job for Rs 1000, another does the same for Rs 500, someone else even for Rs 700.”He added that the transition wasn’t easy even for those already in the field. “When technology changed and new systems came in, we old photographers had to adapt too. The younger generation joined later. Earlier, people learned the work directly on the job. Now, there are colleges that even offer degrees in photography, students study it formally,” he said.Also read | ‘If you’re not close enough, your photo is not good enough’: Remembering Raghu Rai“It’s very typical now,” Romi said with a sense of resignation. “When I first entered this field, days used to feel like moments because there was so much happening. Now, it has slowed down a lot. The waiting feels longer than the work itself.”Sharma also highlighted how the entire medium has shifted away from studios. “Earlier photography was done on cellulose tapes, and videos were recorded on VHS tapes, but everything has become digital now,” he said. “Most of the work that still exists has moved beyond studios, it is happening outside, on location.”He also spoke about how smartphones have changed customer expectations. “Customers often tell us that their smartphones take better pictures than we do, and they even question our pricing,” he added.

A profession in transitionGirdhar, too, reflected on how the studio life has nearly faded away. “A day in my life is no longer the same that it used to be,” he said. Like many in the trade, he eventually had to shift careers as business declined. “I have a job now. After I realised that earnings were falling quickly, I joined a local news channel as a camera person. It is not the same, but I still have what I know best, the camera skills. Thankfully, I can still work with a camera.”

A ray of hope

All is not lost for these photographers, slowly adapted to the changing times, even if the transition hasn’t been easy.Sharma reflects on how the shift was unavoidable, but also something the older generation learned to accept. “Yes, when technology changed and new tools came in, we were among the first to adapt.” Still, the struggle for steady work continues. For Sharma, outdoor events are now the main source of livelihood. “Without weddings and functions, there is hardly any work… most days just feel empty,” he admits quietly. The wedding season, he says, brings a brief sense of relief. “Haldi, mehendi, pre-wedding shoots, these keep things going for a while. But once the season ends, everything goes silent again. Then it’s just waiting… waiting for the next big moment,” he adds, capturing the long stretches of uncertainty that define his work life now.Romi, who has been working on regional film projects, said this has now become a key source of income. “It’s no longer just studio photography. Work comes from different places now, sometimes a film shoot, sometimes an event. You have to keep moving with the work, otherwise you get left behind,” he said.Girdhar still sometimes works with outdoor photography. “Studio work has reduced a lot, but outdoor shoots still come up, providing a little extra income” he says.

The bottom line

In the end, the decline of neighbourhood photo studios reflects a larger shift in how society creates and consumes memories. What was once a skilled, time-consuming craft built around patience, composition and personal interaction has been replaced by instant, self-driven photography on smartphones.For many studio photographers, the change has meant shrinking incomes, irregular work, and the constant pressure to adapt or move out of the profession altogether. Yet, even as the business fades, their role in shaping visual memory remains significant, capturing moments that once required intention and effort. Sharma suggests that some form of government support, such as minimum wage protections or skill-based assistance, could help stabilise incomes and allow the sector a fair chance to survive amid rapid technological change.These studios now exist on the margins, no longer the first choice, but still a quiet reminder of a time when every photograph carried weight, preparation, and permanence.