Imagine capturing the golden era of Formula 1 racing through your lens, only to have your work remain unseen in its full glory for decades. That’s exactly what happened to Henry Pang, a 1980s F1 photographer whose stunning shots of legends like Ayrton Senna were finally brought to life as standalone art prints—thanks to his YouTuber son, Jeffrey. But here’s where it gets fascinating: the journey from dusty slides to museum-worthy prints was anything but straightforward.
Henry Pang’s photographs are a time capsule of F1’s most thrilling era—screaming V10 engines, the iconic rivalry between Senna and Alain Prost, and the raw intensity of the sport. Jeffrey, who runs a popular car drifting YouTube channel (https://www.youtube.com/@run_jeff), featured some of his dad’s photos in a mini-documentary about his Porsche 911. The response was immediate: viewers wanted prints. But here’s where it gets controversial: turning 1980s color transparency slides into high-quality prints is a technical nightmare.
Unlike modern digital photography, 1980s photographers like Henry shot on color transparency slides, designed for CMYK magazine printing, not standalone photo prints. As Henry explains in a YouTube video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHsMoxv_DCI), ‘In the 70s, 80s, and 90s, press printing was called color separation. You needed a positive print, which meant a transparency—a slide.’ And this is the part most people miss: the materials needed to print these slides directly onto photo-sensitive paper no longer exist. While negatives can still be printed directly, positive transparencies must be scanned and digitized—a process riddled with challenges.
Jeffrey’s first attempt, using a flatbed scanner with a photographer friend, yielded disappointing results. The resolution was too low for large-scale prints, and specialized scanners (like drum scanners) are rare and expensive. Here’s the bold solution: Henry, a photographic genius, suggested using a 36-megapixel Nikon D800 with a 55mm macro lens, a lightbox, and a copy stand to manually scan each slide. It was time-consuming—each photo required precise manual focus—but the results were breathtaking. Details like the air turbulence around the cars were visible, bringing Henry’s work to life in a way never seen before.
The final step? Chromogenic printing at Foto Box in Toronto, where light-sensitive paper and chemical processing recreated the magic of traditional darkroom techniques. Jeffrey, though not a photographer himself, was clearly moved by the results, proudly sharing the prints with his dad. But here’s the question that sparks debate: In an age of digital perfection, is there still value in preserving analog photography’s imperfections? Let us know in the comments.
If you’re inspired to own a piece of this history, prints are available for purchase here (https://www.run-ms.co/). And if you think this story is remarkable, you’ll love PetaPixel’s feature on Jack Smith, who uncovered 80,000 of his grandfather’s travel photos (https://petapixel.com/2025/12/06/grandson-discovers-80000-stunning-travel-photos-taken-by-his-grandfather/), another tale of preserving the past for future generations.
