Building a teeny tiny darkroom

· 10 minute read

While I was happy with my hybrid approach to film photography—scanning negatives, editing them in Negative Lab Pro, and printing on an inkjet printer—the idea of wet printing in a darkroom was always tempting. The problem is, I live in an apartment and don’t have a spare room to dedicate to a darkroom. At one point, I searched for English-speaking community darkrooms in Berlin and even found a hackerspace that had recently built one. But either my unwillingness to commute or the social anxiety of joining a group of strangers kept me from going.

Recently, I read a great photography book from 1949, written in the USSR. It had a chapter on large format cameras that triggered my curiosity. Since large format gear is typically heavy and I don’t drive, I began looking for something that could fit in a bicycle pannier bag and wasn’t too heavy. That rabbit hole led me to Intrepid, a company that makes lightweight, foldable 4×5 cameras using 3D-printed components.

What really caught my attention was their enlarger. It’s a compact enlarger for 35mm and 120 film, with a built-in LED color head and an integrated safelight. The idea is that you can mount it on a tripod and, with just a lens, start printing. That was super appealing—an enlarger setup that could be easily assembled, disassembled, and stored without taking up too much space.

After confirming that it’s easy to find good used enlarger lenses without breaking the bank, I started reading reviews of the Intrepid enlarger. While most were positive, nearly all of them mentioned that the tripod mounting idea doesn’t really work well—it’s hard to keep the lens perfectly parallel to the paper, which introduces tilt and makes it impossible to get the whole image in focus.

Basically, you either need to buy an expensive copy stand or repurpose one from an old enlarger, which you can often find for peanuts in someone’s dusty basement. That made me pause. Why would I pay €300 for the Intrepid enlarger when I could get a full enlarger set—with a stand and a lens—for nearly free?

Reading more reviews, I also realized I had a misconception: I thought all enlargers had massive heads and tall stands. But there’s actually a market for small enlargers, especially if you’re working exclusively with 35mm.

After more research, I settled on a Durst M301—an entry-level condenser enlarger. It lacks professional features like tilt, shift, and even a scale on the stand. But it’s compact, has a short but extendable stand, small base, includes a slot for contrast filters, has a built-in focusing system, and is designed specifically for black-and-white 35mm printing with a built-in negative carrier.

I came across an ad from someone selling an enlarger along with most of the essential accessories—for just €20. They offered to ship it for an additional €10. A few days later, for the whopping €30, I received a huge box containing the following items:

  • A fully working Durst M301 enlarger
  • Rodenstock Trinar 50mm f/4 lens
  • An exposure timer
  • An easel – to keep photo paper flat and help with framing
  • A safelight with replaceable color filters
  • Two tongs – for moving photo paper between trays
  • Three measuring cups
  • Two old JOBO tanks – for film development (I didn’t need them)
  • Film drying clips (I didn’t need them)
  • A film squeegee (I didn’t need it)

The enlarger was quite dusty when I got it, so I had to clean the condenser lenses before I could start using it. To complete my darkroom setup, I needed to buy four chemical trays, extra tongs, and three bottles for storing chemicals. That added another €36, bringing my total cost to €66. And that’s it—that’s all I needed to start printing my photos and watching them come to life in the gloom of the safelight.

I didn’t include the cost of chemicals and photo paper since those are consumables. Luckily, I already had fixer for film development, which also works for paper, and for the stop bath, I simply use vinegar. So, the only consumables I actually needed to buy were paper developer and photo paper.

Setting it up 🔗

Durst M301 is incredibly easy to set up and take apart. At first, I planned to assemble it in the bathroom for each printing session and store it afterward. But there’s one thing my collection of retro gaming consoles taught me: if something isn’t plugged in and ready to use, it’s probably only going to be used once a year.

Then I realized my storage room could actually be a perfect place for a permanent darkroom. It’s almost completely dark already—just a small gap under the door that can be sealed with a rag. It has ventilation. The washing machine there has enough surface space for the chemical trays. Ideally, a darkroom should have a “wet” corner for chemistry and a “dry” corner for the enlarger and paper. For the dry side, I repurposed an IKEA IVAR shelving unit, adjusting the shelves to position the enlarger at a comfortable working height.

Three 20×25 trays sit on the washing machine in the order of the paper development process: developer → stop bath → fixer. This makes the workflow intuitive and minimizes mistakes. I cover the washing machine surface with cling film to protect it from chemical stains.

The fourth tray, used for the final wash, sits in the kitchen sink. Once the fixer step is complete, the paper is no longer light-sensitive, so I carry the tray to the kitchen, transfer the print to the washing tray and turn on the water tap for a rinse.

The enlarger is plugged into a wall socket through an exposure timer, which I’d say is essential for consistent results. It’s also useful for test strips, where you expose parts of the paper for set intervals. For measuring time of the development and fixing steps, I use an Alexa Echo Dot sealed in a lightproof bag—it’s super convenient, and I can listen to music while printing.

Testing the safelight 🔗

The safelight that came with the enlarger only had a yellow filter, so it wasn’t suitable for the type of paper I wanted to use. When I visited a photo store to pick up the missing accessories, they were out of red filters. So, I experimented with a Philips Hue light strip that I already had.

These light strips create colors by combining three different LEDs. Using the phone app, I adjusted the settings until only the red LED was active. But I still needed to be sure the light was safe for photo paper—so I did a coin test.

In complete darkness, I placed a coin on a sheet of photo paper, then turned on the red light for about 8 minutes. After that, I developed the paper as usual. If the light is truly safe, there should be no visible difference between the area that was covered by the coin and the rest of the paper. If the exposed area is fogged and the spot under the coin remains lighter, it means the light isn’t safe.

The light strip passed the test successfully, so I attached it to one of the storage shelves. It’s also integrated with Alexa for voice control. Compared to traditional red bulbs, it’s noticeably brighter, which makes working in the darkroom much more comfortable.

Drying the prints 🔗

To dry the prints, I use an IKEA PRESSA hanger in the shower. Its clothespins are a bit too tight, so I use extra clips to avoid damaging the corners. Once dry, I flatten the prints under a stack of heavy books for a day.

Analog photo editing 🔗

Sometimes, it’s necessary to adjust specific parts of a photo—like brightening the subject or lighten up dark areas. This is where dodging comes in. During exposure, you block certain parts of the image to reduce their exposure time, making them appear lighter. This can be done by hand or with different tools. I made a simple dodging tool using a cardboard circle attached to a spoke, which helps with precise dodging, even in the center of the image.

Depending on the negative, you might want to adjust the contrast of your print. This can be done in a few ways. If you’re using fixed-grade photo paper, you can switch to a different grade to get higher or lower contrast. But if you’re printing on variable-grade paper, you can use contrast filters instead.

Variable-grade paper contains several emulsion layers, each sensitive to different wavelengths of light. Multigrade filters alter the color of the light from the enlarger, which affects how each layer responds—allowing you to control the contrast of the final print without changing the paper.

There’s also a technique called split-grade printing, where you expose highlights with one contrast filter and shadows with another. This allows for very precise tonal control throughout the image.

After printing for a while, I realized that having a set of contrast filters should be useful. I picked up a set of Ilford Multigrade filters. They’re more expensive than Foma’s, but more convenient—Foma requires stacking filters to reach higher grades, whereas Ilford’s come in half-grade steps, offering more precision.

I’ve done two experiments to better understand how contrast filters affect prints on Ilford paper with a pearl finish and Foma paper with a glossy finish. Interestingly, the Foma paper behaves a bit unpredictably when used with Ilford’s multigrade filters. On the other hand, Ilford paper printed at grade 2 closely matches the result of printing without any filter at all.

Ilford
Foma

One insight I’ve got from printing is that high-contrast negatives are actually much harder to work with in the darkroom. So for those who push their film just to achieve high contrast—you might be making things harder for your future self if you ever decide to print from those negatives. It’s much easier to add contrast later with filters or while editing digitally. Editing tonality isn’t cheating—it’s part of the process.

Upgrading the lens 🔗

The lens that came with my enlarger is a triplet design. It is great for starters, especially if you’re not making very large prints. When stopped down to f/8 or f/11, it’s reasonably sharp. The corners can be a bit soft, but it’s only noticeable in prints that include fine details there, like small text on banners.

Even though I’ve made quite a few prints with that lens, I couldn’t stop thinking: I spend good money on the best camera optics, so why sacrifice sharpness in the darkroom? On a recent trip to Japan, I visited a vintage camera store in Hiroshima and got an EL-Nikkor 50mm f/2.8N—the latest, multi-coated version. It is considered as one of the best enlarging lenses for 35mm. The lens produces sharp prints across the entire frame, I really like the results I got. This upgrade was absolutely worth it—and it’s reassuring to know that I’m covered if I ever decide to make prints larger than 8×10 inches in the future.

Final thoughts 🔗

Overall, I’ve really come to enjoy this new hobby. Spending an evening in the darkroom, solving the exposure puzzle and writing down printing notes, is both engaging and relaxing. The results are fantastic—especially compared to the black-and-white prints from my inkjet printer. Those never had true blacks and often looked slightly purple depending on the lighting. The lighter areas also appeared patchy due to how inkjet printing works. Darkroom prints, on the other hand, feel much more refined. And honestly, it just feels good to make something with your hands after a day of staring at a screen.