When her grandfather passed away last year, Linnea Kempf inherited something special: an analog camera with real film, made by a manufacturer that no longer exists. Standing at a coffee stand in Offenbach's weekly market, Kempf pulls the camera from her bag. The gleaming letters and numbers read "Minolta X-700" – the protagonist of Kempf's mission.

The student at the University of Applied Sciences for Design explains her motivation: "I know Offenbach as a young city. But I wanted to see the other side too." Even in one of Germany's youngest cities, there are many elderly people, and Kempf set out to document their daily lives through her photography project titled "Not Digital. Not Indifferent: Insights into the Lives of Offenbach Retirees."

For an entire semester, Kempf wandered through Offenbach with her inherited Minolta, capturing moments at Wilhelmsplatz, Friedrichsweiher lake, and even in front of the hardware store at Ring Center. Her goal was to uncover what it really means to grow old in Offenbach. The results, created for her "Design and Community" seminar, are compiled in a printed booklet in A5 format.

"My project isn't a large-scale analysis of social conditions," Kempf clarifies. "I know that elderly poverty is a problem in Offenbach. But I was more interested in finding places where people can still connect with each other in real life, especially in times when we spend so much time in digital spaces."

To prepare for her project, Kempf met with the director of the German Red Cross senior center at Dreieichpark, collecting information about popular destinations for the 67-plus generation in Offenbach. She also prepared her equipment carefully: for the photos, Kempf attached a polarizing filter to her camera. "I like the grain in analog images," she says. "That's what digital photography lacks."

The camera offered another unexpected advantage: it increased people's trust. "I believe if I had held my phone in people's faces, it wouldn't have been the same," Kempf reflects. This approach worked particularly well at Friedrichsweiher, where she photographed two friends observing the fountains. "I asked them, and they were willing," she recalls. However, the student notes that barriers still existed: "Often the exchange was rather limited."

What makes analog photography special, according to Kempf, is the element of mystery hidden in the camera's belly. The film remains like a secret, a surprise. Analog images can't simply be scrolled through, zoomed in on, or deleted – first, they need to be exposed. After completing her work, Kempf would drive to Frankfurt with her film rolls to a photo studio on Schweizer Straße that handled the development process.

The results are surprising and compelling. Sometimes Kempf's lens peeks between plant containers that frame a lady with a walker who pauses in her journey. In another shot, viewers see the back of a woman wearing a Panama hat, with gray hair and a black t-shirt, bending forward to buy tomatoes. Another image captures a senior citizen sitting under a sun umbrella in front of Café Frieda.

Those who look at these photographs see scenes from which the pace seems to have been removed. Everything moves slowly. There's also a sense of loneliness: "These elderly people can enjoy themselves, but they often stay among themselves, directing their gaze downward," observes the photographer.

Yet the images possess an ineffable quality that transcends verbal description. "Text always dictates what the reader takes away," Kempf explains. "Photos stand for themselves. You can look at them or simply walk on by."

Kempf's philosophy about her analog approach is clear: "Photos stand for themselves," says the University of Applied Sciences student. Her camera of choice remains the Minolta X-700, a testament to a bygone era of photography that offers something smartphones cannot replicate. Through her lens, she has captured not just images, but moments of authentic human experience in an increasingly digital world.

The project represents more than just a student assignment; it's a meditation on aging, community, and the power of analog technology to create genuine human connections in our modern age. In a city known for its youth, Kempf has found and documented the quieter stories of those who have lived longer, creating a visual narrative that speaks to the universal experience of growing older.