The Henry's on Bank Street, where Dave Andrews is located
Photography is more than just an image. It’s a story, a moment, a piece of time preserved with intention. For Dave Andrews, a professional printer and passionate photographer based in Ottawa, Ontario, this philosophy is at the heart of everything he does. Through his business, Digital Art & Restoration, Dave has spent decades refining his craft, printing work for artists and photographers who trust his expertise in transforming digital images into tangible works of art.
On March 6, 2025, I had the privilege of sitting down with Dave to discuss his journey - from the early days of discovering photography to mastering the intricacies of fine art printing. Over the course of our conversation, he shared stories of inspiration, the challenges of working with varied images, and the importance of intuition in both photography and life. What struck me most was how his journey wasn’t just about his work; it was about time itself. How it shapes us, teaches us, and deepens our understanding of the world.
Dave Andrews, age 73
Aging is often framed as something to fear, something that diminishes creativity or closes doors. But for Dave, aging is a gift - one that has refined his skills, expanded his vision, and enriched his relationships with both people and his craft. He embraces the passing of time, seeing it not as something to resist but as something to learn from. His experiences serve as a reminder that great photography isn’t just about capturing what we see—it’s about capturing what we feel and how we change over time.
Over the course of our conversation, he shared stories of inspiration, the challenges of working with varied images, and the importance of intuition in both photography and life. Through his words, it became clear that his passion extends far beyond the technical side of printing. It’s about relationships with artists, with his craft, and with the images themselves. In this interview, he shares insights on creativity, the evolution of printing technology, and the lessons he’s learned along the way. His journey serves as a reminder that great photography isn’t just about capturing what we see - it’s about capturing what we feel.
First, I asked Dave to walk me through the process of preparing an image for print. Preferring to demonstrate rather than explain, he presented an image he had prepared before my arrival - a striking horizontal collage of five distinct photographs. This piece, created by Indigenous artist and photographer Jeff Thomas, is currently displayed in the hall of an art gallery exhibit.
"So, right now, I have a large exhibit that I printed in the National Gallery and the Ottawa Art Gallery," Dave explained. "If you go to the Ottawa Art Gallery, you're going to see all my prints there. They're all big, and you'll see - they’re really interesting and varied. Jeff came down my stairs about 17 years ago, and we’ve been working together ever since. He sought me out because I had spent a lot of time figuring out [the complexities of printing] myself." (Andrews, 2025)
Dave Andrews desk
Creating a cohesive collage from five vastly different images, each unique in subject and colour balance, is no simple feat. Dave embraced the challenge, explaining the intricacies of merging photographs while maintaining a natural flow. Color correction, a crucial step in this process, is applied to each individual image before they are combined. He pointed to one of the photos, a dark-toned, graffiti-covered rock.
"So, you put something that stark with these other images, and it just dominates - it doesn’t fit," he noted. "There has to be flow without making it fake. It has to be what Jeff sees. Because we’ve worked together for so long, he trusts that I understand his vision. The first step is to check the colour space of each photo. When Jeff sends a batch, they’re usually all over the map. I don’t want to start an image fight here, so they have to work together, whether they like it or not." (Andrews, 2025)
Dave Andrews desk (close up)
To ensure consistency, Dave converts all images to Adobe RGB 1998 before fine-tuning their sharpness and clarity; only then are they ready to be transformed into a large-format fine art print. In case you are not a photographer, Adobe RGB 1998 is a wider way of representing colours than the regular colour space, which is called sRGB. You can think of colour spaces as different languages that screens and printers use to understand/display colour.
Given Dave’s dual role as both a photographer and a printer, I was curious about his personal journey with photography. He is clearly very well educated in both fields, so I asked him, “do you remember the first photo you took that made you proud?”
Dave smiled at my question, his expression softening. "Ugh, this brings tears to my eyes. I sure do. It was somewhere around 1970, '71, '72. Carleton University asked me to photograph some things for their social sciences program. The first portrait I ever shot for them was of a gentleman, maybe my age now or older, sitting on a park bench in Vincent Massey Park. He was well-dressed, wearing a beautiful beret, with a nice beard. Right away, I could tell his demeanor was cool, calm. He just sat there, observing the world around him.
"So, I walked up and said, ‘I’m Dave, just a little punk, and I’ve been hired by Carleton, blah blah blah. Do you mind if I take your picture?’ He was sitting on a bluff, about five feet above me, with a solid backdrop of trees behind him - no distractions. And he just smiled and said, ‘Oh, of course, yeah, fine.’"
Dave described climbing back down, framing the shot with his Mamiya C220, a two-and-a-quarter format camera. "I started shooting, and he began looking around. Then, at one point, he took off his glasses to wipe his eyes. And there it was. Right then, at that young age, I felt something shift. I thought, ‘Oh, okay, Dave. This is where you’re going.’" (Andrews, 2025)
Dave Andrews with the portrait, titled "Young Upstart"
I nodded. "Yeah, like that lightbulb moment."
"Absolutely," Dave agreed, placing a hand over his heart. "But from here," he said, "not here," as he pointed to his head.
I could see how deeply he felt about his work, and it made me curious about his printing journey. I asked, “so, how did you develop your skills over time? Are you self-taught or trained?”
At first, Dave described himself as self-taught, but as our conversation unfolded, it became clear that his education had come in a less conventional way. His father, a professional photographer, and his father’s friends had all played a role in shaping his skills. He named Ron McIver, Ted Grant, and Ernie Dew - photographers associated with the National Film Board (NFB).
“They were really, really skilled," Dave recalled. "So, I got to hang out with them. I was still a teenager, but I spent enough time around them to realize... wow, there's a whole cadre of really interesting people here. They had this energy, this spirit, and that spirit became my education. So, no, I didn’t go to school, but there was a kind of school of exposure.” (Andrews, 2025)
Dave Andrews feeding the paper of his printer
I laughed. “Almost like an apprenticeship.”
Dave nodded in agreement. He went on to explain how his career has introduced him to fascinating people, each experience adding to his learning. He mentioned a particular client who had worked for what was once called the "Department of Indian and Northern Affairs," now renamed the "Department of Indigenous and Northern Affairs." Over the years, Dave has formed close working relationships with many Indigenous artists who come to his studio to have their photographs printed—something he deeply enjoys. “These moments," he said, "[have] opened my heart and eyes to the fact that these people are different. Indigenous, different. And it’s been like that throughout my whole career. A lot of my customers are Indigenous.” (Andrews, 2025)
“That’s amazing,” I responded. His words lingered for a moment before I shifted the conversation toward his technical expertise. Given his decades of experience in printing, I was curious about the challenges he encounters in daily life while printing. “What are the most common issues you face when printing, and how do you overcome them?” I asked.
Image printed by Dave Andrews
Dave claimed that the biggest things he has to work on are underexposure, overexposure, and out-of-focus images. He said, “they're not focused well, and [the client wants] something to hang over their couch. So, I look at it and tell them - realistically - how big I think it can go.” (Andrews, 2025)
“I can see how that would be challenging,” I replied.
“Yeah, it’s fun, too.”
“Yeah, challenges often, if you have the right mindset, can be pretty fun.” Building on that idea, I asked him, “how do you stay creative and motivated when you're feeling uninspired? [When the challenges don’t feel as fun?]”
Dave replied, “Well, if I'm feeling uninspired, 99.99% of the time, I'm not living here,” he gestures to his heart, “I'm living here,” he gestures to his head. “Well, why am I doing that, Dave? You hated school, they hated you. So, why are you in your head? And if I'm feeling dry, and lifeless then I, you know what I used to do? I had a van. So come the weekend, I just loaded up with every camera I had, no destination in mind, and [went] for two days, one day, [maybe] three days tops.” (Andrews, 2025)
Dave Andrews's most recent printing project
Dave had a very specific memory of one of these trips, the one where he visited Ferguson Falls. He had never been there before, so when he saw the sign, he decided to take a chance on it. Driving into the small town, he noticed a general store. He looked at the store and thought, ‘this is telling me something.’ So, he turned in and bought some gas, before asking the cashier if he could take some photos of the store. He said, ‘I'm a photographer, would you be okay if I took a few pictures?’
The old lady said, 'well, I don't mind,’ so he took some photos of the inside of the old general store. And then she said, 'would you like to photograph my dad?’
Of course, Dave said yes. So, he followed her to a curtain door that separated the store from a living space. She pushed aside the curtain and she went in, saying, ‘oh dad, this is Dave and he's just a young photographer and I suggested he may want to photograph you.’
The man was in his seventies, lying on a couch. The couch was pressed up tight against a wall, a window sill ending at just the height of the couch. There was the most perfect lighting. Sitting on the ledge of the window was a little dog, perhaps a Jack Russel.
In the present, Dave said, “and this sounds horrible, but [the man] said, ‘we just sit here most of the days and smoke. Yeah, so I smoke, blow it out, and the dog breathes it in.’” (Andrews, 2025)
I didn’t know what to make of this story. Of course, the dog was going to die much earlier than most dogs would, but this was back before people really understood the dangers of smoking. Dave decided not to judge the old man, and I’m deciding to follow suit. He commented on it by simply saying, “the world's a much richer, larger place. How am I going to see it all?” (Andrews, 2025)
Photos and memorabilia on Dave Andrews's wall
I smiled at his sentiment, then shifted the conversation back towards his craft. “What advancements in printing technology or techniques have had the most impact on photo quality in recent years?”
“Well, one thing was that they went from dye based printers to pigment based,” said Dave. “So they didn't fade, [which] was huge. And, you know, you could [actually] buy a 44 inch printer. Well, how cool is that? So those were the best advancements. Also the gamma in the inks; they got wider and wider and wider and better and better, so you could do a lot more. It was really, really cool. Because as soon as you started to learn your Photoshop tools, knowing you had a canvas, as it were, this wide,” he gestures with his hands, “gamma wise. You could use curves and stuff and create interesting highlights and shadows.” (Andrews, 2025)
“That’s really interesting,” I commented. Branching off of that, I asked, “so, what types of printers / printing tech do you typically use? Is there a specific reason why?”
Dave Andrews feeding the paper of his printer
Dave replied without pause, saying, “for me, it’s Epson. And the bigger I get it, the better. I've got two Epson printers, one's a 44 [inch] and [the other is] a 64 inch one. It's too big for here, so I store it at my artist friend's place. And he has it set up in his living room. He's as crazy as I am.” (Andrews, 2025)
I laugh. “Good decor.”
“Yeah, he's a painter,” he said. “Anyway, the bigger the better, because I can always print small, but some images need to be big. And you will learn the technical stuff about the printer. You see, you sort of grow into your relationship with that printer and software. So for me, [it's] Photoshop. And I got my first version of Photoshop in 1991, and it was version 1. Nortel hired me to use Photoshop to do stuff for them.”
“That’s so cool!” I replied.
Dave Andrews commenting on prints he has done
Nortel was a Canadian company which was founded in 1895, Quebec, and shut down in 2013. Dave went on to tell me the story of how he was found by Nortel. In 1985, Dave and his family moved to Carp, drawn by the close-knit community and the kind of childhood only a small town could offer. “It was a ball of diamonds,” Dave said, describing a place where neighbours were friends, doors were left unlocked, and hockey rinks were at the heart of it all. “This is where you raise kids,” he thought. The house they chose was as full of character as the town itself - an old log home, beautifully renovated but still holding the charm of its history. Thick square logs framed the walls, standing strong through decades of seasons.
The house was well loved. The kids slept upstairs, while Dave and his wife made do with a fold-out couch, saving up for a proper mattress. But even then, Dave’s mind was spinning with ideas. He had only been in Carp for a month or two when it hit him. There probably weren’t many photographers like him in town. Maybe this was his chance. So, one late summer day, they moved every piece of furniture out of the house and onto the lawn. Suddenly, the empty walls became Dave’s gallery. He framed his best photographs and hung them where couches and bookshelves had been. Then, with handmade signs in hand, he and the kids walked through town, spreading the word: “Photo Exhibit – 120 Salisbury Street.”
In the present, Dave said, “So, that's what happened. And, you know, people walked down, because Carp was small, and they drove. And they just thought that was the cat's piano. One of the people who came down was a big shot at Nortel. So, you [can] see how it happens.” (Andrews, 2025)
Dave Andrews's printer (close up)
I nodded. “Ya, definitely. Okay, my last formal question is: What advice would you give to someone starting out in photography or printing?”
Dave said, “have fun. Really go for it. Rockets. And don't stop. Go nuts. And the moments that you think, ‘oh, all my buddies are all going out here, blah, blah, blah.’ Bring a camera. Well, what do you mean by [bringing] a camera? Because you don't ever know [what will make a good shot].” (Andrews, 2025)
Dave Andrews with his portrait, "Young Upstart"
Smiling, I replied with, “[I do that whenever my friends and I hang out. This one time,] I went on a bike ride and there was the most gorgeous sunset. I was like, ‘I wish I had my camera right now.’ Anyway, is there anything left that I haven’t asked about that you would like to discuss?”
Nodding, Dave went on to tell me the stories of the photos on his office walls. He told me about his son and their shared interest in motorcycles. He told me a little about his father and his mentor, Art Price, who was a painter and sculptor. Finally, he pointed to an image on the wall and told me its story.
“And that one is a really interesting project where the photographer went with Greenpeace. That's the ship, Sea Shepherd, on the left. They went to Antarctica to interrupt the Japanese whaling fleet. What they do is they buzz around those ships in those little zodiacs and get closer and closer and closer. Meanwhile, the crew, the Japanese crew, have these water cannons which you can see [in the image]. And [the zodiacs] try to upend it. So the zodiacs get closer and closer, and what they do is they have these little bottles and they get close enough to throw it over the netting. And if it lands on the deck and smashes that liquid is so foul smelling and they can't get rid of it. It won't rub off. So, eventually, after a couple of days, they're so sick [of it], that they go back to port. So, that's that one. And that is from inside the helicopter that my client was on. In fact, you can see the [helicopter] blade up [in] the top left.” (Andrews, 2025)
Dave Andrews pointing towards one of the Sea Sheared images he has printed
“That’s so cool,” I said with a smile.
All these stories, these memories, left an impact on me. Through my history with Dave Andrews—what with going to the same church—I had always known him to be a man of wisdom. But this interview made me realize that wisdom isn’t just something you acquire with age; it’s something you cultivate through experience, through passion, and through a lifelong willingness to learn.
Dave’s journey is proof that aging isn’t about fading—it’s about deepening. With each passing year, he hasn’t just accumulated knowledge; he has refined his understanding, strengthened his intuition, and enriched his relationships. His hands, which have spent decades perfecting the art of printing, tell a story of dedication. His eyes, sharp and discerning, hold the same curiosity he had as a young photographer discovering his path. And his words, rich with lived experience, carry the kind of insight that only time can offer.
Dave Andrews with a portrait of his father
There’s an unfortunate tendency in our society to view aging as something to fear, as if growing older means losing relevance. But sitting across from Dave, listening to his stories and witnessing his unwavering enthusiasm for his craft, I saw aging for what it truly is: a privilege. It is a chance to master what you love, to form deeper connections, and to leave behind a legacy that inspires others. Dave hasn’t slowed down. If anything, he has only become more intentional, more precise, more attuned to the nuances that make great art and great storytelling. In his journey, I see a roadmap for embracing the years ahead - not with apprehension, but with excitement for all there is still to create, to learn, and to share.
