Tim Scott: Capturing Speed With Slow Photography

Words Sean Campbell

Photography Tim Scott/Scott Photo Co.

He made a choice that is increasingly rare today: he captures cars and car races using film. In other words, he creates images of a fast-paced, frenetic world with a thoughtful and introspective approach. At first glance, this may seem like a contradiction, but it is precisely this pursuit that distinguishes an artist with a personal vision from an ordinary photographer.

After years in the fast-paced world of advertising, where instant gratification and hard deadlines reign, Tim Scott has found solace in the deliberate, contemplative craft of film photography.

His work—rich with texture, detail, and narrative—captures timeless images of classic cars, motorcycles, and the humanity intertwined with motor culture. In this in-depth interview, Scott shares his thoughts on storytelling through film, the allure of hot rods, and what keeps him inspired.

Why do you choose to shoot primarily with film in an era dominated by digital photography? What does this medium offer that resonates with you as an artist?

Every creator has tools that resonate with their vision. For me, film evokes feeling, authenticity, and timelessness. It’s not about film being better than digital—they’re both amazing tools—but film slows me down, requiring intention in every decision. I first learned photography in high school, working in the darkroom. After years in advertising—a fast-paced, perfection-focused world—I needed an outlet that felt creative and personal. I picked up a digital camera but found my images to be lacking in real soul, more like tourist snapshots. To completely change my approach, I bought an old film, twin-lens reflex Yashica and set about learning how to shoot film again, and how to better see and execute what I saw in my head. I love how shooting film is a process that slows me down and makes me feel like I’m creating something, not just taking something, making key decisions that affect the end result, every single step along the way. It’s “imperfect”, it can be quite expensive, and the process can be very time-consuming, but when you get that one perfect photograph it is so very worth it. Film to me is a craft, a process, and a commitment. Film equally surprises, frustrates, inspires, disappoints, and just when I feel that it may not be worth all of this, it rewards me with something magical.

How does the slower, more deliberate process of film photography influence your storytelling?

Film isn’t cheap. Each shot can cost anywhere from $0.50 to $20, so I must be selective and intentional. I spend a lot of time observing and visualizing what I want before pressing the shutter. Of course, I won’t know for sure until I see the film—that’s part of the challenge and the reward. When telling a story through multiple images, I plan carefully to ensure I capture enough variety to create a complete narrative. However, what I am constantly hunting for, striving for, is an image that can also stand on its own – a full story told in 1/60th of a second. If I can catch someone’s attention and engage them to spend more than three seconds looking and reward them with some kind of visual moment that brings back memories or inspires some imagined adventure, then I have succeeded. Photographs like this are few and far between and oh so rewarding when they do come to life.

What is your go-to film format and camera setup for capturing cars and motor culture?

There’s no one setup for me. I switch between 35mm, medium format, and large format, depending on the subject. Every camera, every lens, every film and every exposure gives completely different results in the analog world. Plus, I get creatively bored if I always do the same thing and chase the same result, so I am constantly experimenting and trying to find something that keeps me inspired. The analog process is so much less exact and “perfect” than with modern technology – and I love that. However, medium format is what I often find myself reaching for as it splits the difference between usability, flexibility, affordability and quality of the final result. I shoot almost exclusively black-and-white film, mostly Kodak TRI-X and Ilford HP5. My workflow involves home processing—loading film onto reels in a light proof tent, developing it in my kitchen sink, and scanning negatives on an Epson Perfection V850. Post-processing is minimal, focusing on adjustments that could be made in a darkroom. For me, a photograph isn’t complete until it’s printed. Printing brings the image to life and allows it to exist beyond the limits of screens. A print is the only final result where I have total control of the end result from beginning to end and has the potential to live way beyond my limited years.

Your work often captures speed and movement, yet your medium, film, requires patience. How do you reconcile this contrast?

I actually thrive in this and enjoy the challenge of achieving something that I’m happy with. I love that it takes a lot of thought, planning and intention to create these images.

It feels like I am collaborating with the subject and the process to create something, not just take something. There is a lot of luck in photography, and we all have to accept this and explore, play and find our own vision and moments. As it’s said, “luck favors the prepared”, so I do everything I possibly can to be the best prepared, inspired and passionate photographer that I can possibly be.

You’ve mentioned being inspired by people and the humanity surrounding cars and races. Why is the human element so important to your work?

Including people gives images a sense of time and context. Cars and motorcycles may last generations, but people are fleeting. Their presence adds depth to the story, offering a glimpse into the era and culture surrounding the machines. It feels like the human element in society is diminishing every day as we become more and more reliant on technology, always on the hunt for “perfection” and being divided from each other for whatever reason society can find to benefit. Every photograph is history from the moment it is captured.

That exact environment, light, content, context and situation will never again happen in exactly the same way. The way that it’s photographed and portrayed has the potential to be something special and valuable to future generations – and that very much includes the human presence of today. While many feel that this may make the photograph less interesting or the people a distraction, I really feel that in the future, when the styles have changed, and the people may be long gone, this tells an even deeper story because of this time specific context. The cars and motorcycles, and the images of them, may exist for generations, but people exist for a limited amount of time, and even within that time they change daily. I hope that in 25, 50, 100 years from now that people will see my work and be interested in this history and hopefully will be inspired to create their own.

Your LEGENDS project focuses on iconic figures in motorsports. Can you share a particularly memorable experience from this series?

A few years ago, I attended a memorial for a famous drag racer and realized we were losing these icons quickly. I am greatly inspired by the portraits by photographers like Irving Penn, Richard Avedon and Yousef Karsh and I wanted to find a way to combine my love and desire of making portraits with building a series of legendary faces that were falling into history all too soon. This project has been so rewarding and inspiring in many ways. I get to meet, spend some time with, and call friends, people that have accomplished incredible things and have made history.

They have been so kind and generous with their time and presence and have often expressed their appreciation for this series. At the 2024 drag racing historic event called the Nitro Revival I shared many of the portraits from years past as a mini exhibit just outside of my humble tent studio, and it was so amazing to watch people come by and get excited seeing these legendary faces. Even better was when the Legends themselves came by and stood looking at their portraits and those of their friends. They told stories, they laughed and even some tears were shed for a few that we had lost in the past couple of years. These moments made it worth every dollar invested, every second spent and all the hours spent working to make this happen. I am blessed.

You’re transforming a 1964 Ford Econoline van into a traveling story hub. What are your plans for this project?

I love photography, I love storytelling, I love travelling, I love unexpected adventures, and I love people, so this is my plan to bring all of these things together. The van will allow me to be on the road more efficiently and take the time to know my subjects better as I am able to spend a bit more time with people and at the places that make the stories special.

Of course, I had to find a vintage van because I love classic vehicles, and a van because I have a lot of stuff to schlep around to make my work. It will also give me a place to sleep occasionally to save some money for more film. It will have a stock inline-6 engine and manual transmission to help keep gas mileage as high as possible and being such a simple, mass-produced engine and basic van, I can find parts and make most repairs almost anywhere. Slow, semi-comfortable and reliable is my goal but (at the time of writing) I still have quite a way to go for this build. Anyone interested can follow the build along at my website!

Your photography often explores traditional American car culture—hot rods, drag racing, and salt flats. What draws you to these themes, and how do you keep your work fresh?

When I returned to photography 15+ years ago, American car and motorcycle culture was what my friends and I were into. I started photographing that simply since I was around it and my love and appreciation has grown over the years. Now, with more than a decade of memorable adventures and like-minded friends all over the world it is something that I enjoy every day. Hot rods, drag racing and land speed racing surround me here in Southern California. Photographing shows is interesting, but capturing these amazing vehicles and people in action and context is a rewarding challenge that keeps me inspired. The historic racetracks, the dry lakebed at El Mirage, and the legendary salt flats at Bonneville are a backdrop made in heaven. Again, seeing these subjects in context with historical surroundings helps lend a timeless feel to my work that I enjoy.

Fresh and engaging is difficult to define as it means something different to everyone. I started photographing again after years away from it as an outlet and creative endeavor just for me. It is really quite selfish; I photograph subjects and tell stories of things that interest and inspire me. I really feel that it does a disservice to the subject just to make photographs or try to tell a story about something that I’m not really interested in. By engaging deeply with what inspires me I approach each story with genuine interest, curiosity and passion. What I strive for most in my work is conveying some kind of emotion. I really want the viewer to feel something when they see my photographs. I work to use every tool in my photographic arsenal to help communicate this; whether it is blur, light, tones, motion, connection or anything else I can find to bring these images to life. Very, very rarely, all of these things come together, and I’m blessed with a 1,000-word worthy photograph. I do a lot of good work, but I always strive to do great work. Great is an elusive and often cruel mistress but there are still so many great photographs to be made.

What has been your biggest challenge in pursuing analog photography—or photography as a whole—and maintaining such a niche focus on automotive storytelling? How have you overcome it?

There are quite a few challenges still shooting film; it is slow, expensive and there is no immediate gratification. So many publications and outlets nowadays are working with very limited budgets and require almost immediate delivery of final materials. As I shoot 99% black and white this also makes it difficult to engage with many publications because they are so accustomed to color. I don’t consider myself an automotive photographer. I’m a photographer who makes photographs and tells stories. While most of my more known work has been in the motorsport realm, my approach is the same with any other genre. I find a subject that inspires me and dive in 110% to learn as much about it as possible so that I can tell that story with the same passion and depth as anything else I do.

What I really love the most are portraits. So, while I do make many portraits, I also approach every subject as a portrait as well. You can make a portrait of a car. You can make a portrait of a tree, of a rock, of a mountain, or pretty much anything with the mindset of capturing a moment of that subject and revealing something that engages someone to spend a moment looking closer and understanding better what you’re trying to say. I have no answer as to how to overcome these challenges. I keep going because I have to. This passion is the fire that feeds me and gives me purpose.

Looking back at your journey, what advice would you give to aspiring photographers and storytellers?

A famous photographer was once asked this same question, and his answer was, “Quit if you can.” Like me, you might wonder how dare someone say this!? But much like a great photograph, the heart and truth emerges when you dig a little deeper… Even in the glory days of staff photographers, assignments for global magazines and newspapers, multiple fold photographers making a career of sorts, there were still relatively few who were good enough, connected enough, and lucky enough to actually make a living doing this. I would say that it is even more difficult now and the opportunities are even fewer. Without an almost unquenchable fire to do this—a limitless drive no matter what—the path will be even more difficult. There are many, many days of hearing “no” and hundreds of hours of work and time to create what you love with no return in sight. In the darkest of times, it will be easy to quit. But if you really cannot quit and you have the drive and self motivation to just keep moving forward, then perhaps you might just find the opportunity that lets you live what you love. What more can you ask for?