Mountain Light

My thoughts on photography, travelling and simplicity in life. Learning to see, expanding my vision and horizon as a photographer, learning that less is more.

Written by Nicholas Susatyo

5 (Street Photography) Lessons from Eric Kim

Last month, I was participating in Eric Kim’s advanced street photography workshop in Sydney, and I happen to become his guide for a few days during his stay in Sydney. I will not review his workshop here, but rather, important lessons I have learned from Eric outside the classroom. 

1) Community of street photographers (“streettogs”)

Eric emphasised that street photography is mostly about the community. This is what I have done wrong in my “landscape days”: I thought that photography is a very individual hobby and I basically just need to educate myself the way I like it. I have been wrong because I need feedbacks from other people too, both from fellow photographers and non-photographers (such as your girlfriend or your mum). 

What we mean by “community” is a community in real life, not virtually over the net. Facebook can help organise events, but there is no replacement for having a real group of like-minded folks. I first met my friend River on April (last month), then start meeting other members of Sydney Streettogs (which was formed shortly after) and so far I am having some of the best times in my life. Want to know how like-minded am I with River? And most other streettogs for this matter, really. We shot with similar camera setups, we have the same “photography rights” document printed and folded in our bag, we even watched the same anime series! We found out these stuff when we first met.

One of the best things out of a community is the amount of support you get from others. Four months ago, I would never imagined myself sitting in a cafe with other streettogs who shoots film and develop on their own. Most other friends who didn’t understand the art of using film simply making us feeling down by saying we’re wasting money, we’re hipsters, film is more expensive than digital, and all those moot arguments. On the other hand, it feels great when you know the other photographers in the community would support each other through constructive criticism, willing to help when there’s something wrong with our film development method, willing to go and check out an exhibition together, instead of simply judging what we do is good/bad based on our gears. 

One thing to note though: we are not really bothered by the number of members we have, as long as they are passionate about street photography. Let’s face it: “photography clubs” are everywhere, for example the one I have back in the University. It’s a properly-registered group with huge amount of members, but because it’s so big, there are too many people with different expertise (some landscape photographers, some architecture, some journalism, etc). While there is nothing wrong with that, it is easy to lose focus. It is very easy to find someone who just casually pops up when they need helps (usually someone who had no clue what aperture means, and refuses to read instruction manuals), but it is difficult to find a person who’s genuinely interested in the things you are passionate about (especially street photography - you won’t believe how relatively small our circle is). More often than not, the next landscape photographer who is sitting next to me is shooting digital, and he would start asking me, “Why are you shooting a Velvia for landscape?” See, how could you support each other if the photographer is only concerned about my camera and lens and film?

2) Know the literature well, then be a good critique

During our dinner one night, one of us asked Eric which street photographer should we research on, whom would inspire us and potentially have particular photographic style we would adopt. Whilst Eric listing the names for us, he also encouraged us to read more photobooks, because to be a good critique to others’ work and our own work, knowing the literature of photography is one of the prerequisites. This brings me to my next point…

3) Buy books, not gear

This seems pretty clear, as Eric has mentioned this numerous times in his blog, however it just occurred to me: you don’t really have to buy the books. In one of our photo walks, Eric brought us to Kinokuniya book store. There were about five of us, and Eric handed each of us a thick photobook - he handed me Henri Cartier-Bresson’s “The man, the image & the world”. I came up with a lot of questions to him, and I returned from Kinokuniya with a lot of inspirations. Eric once mentioned to us that he measures how good someone is as a photographer based on how many photobooks s/he had read/owned, not how much cameras and lenses s/he had.

It is not that I don’t want to buy the photobooks for myself, but for someone who’s always on the move and likes to keep possessions to minimal, this is a good method. I would buy some of my favourite photobooks in the near future - I’m sure having it and being able to read it in my own time would be a lot better than making a trip to the book store all the time. Buying a photobook is more like buying an experience, and when you have it, it’s almost like revisiting those experiences. Think about buying a DVD and being able to rewatch your favourite movie, instead of paying for cinema.

4) When you are 80% happy with your toys, stick with it

One of the most important lessons. The first thing to realise before we make an impulse spending on photographic gears is that we will never be 100% happy with it. Never. This is why, when you are at least 80% happy with your current lens or camera, you should stick with it. Another implication of this is never to borrow your friend’s lens or other gear. Yes, they are probably nicer than the ones you have, and you will probably want it in the end, but it probably won’t make you any happier or any better photographer.

If you’re not 80% happy yet with your current gear, try to put something on it, like my friend Norman’s Contax T2.

At the moment, I have a Doraemon sticker on my flash. I think of this as a social experiment - I already had people smiling at me on the street just because I have this sticker stands out when I have the camera on my neck.

Read Eric’s recent article on buying happiness here. This brought me to another point:

5) Buy another street photographer a beer (principle #7) / spend your money on others

Eric literally bought us a pitcher of beer to share, but this is not the example to illustrate my point. One time when we were out shooting, I was reaching my bag realising I didn’t bring enough film for the day. Eric noticed me, and he took out two rolls of film from his bag, and made remarks, “use them and let me know if they are not enough.” Clearly, Eric wasn’t hesitated at all to help other street photographers, and that is something I admire from him. While I’m usually trying to share with other streettogs, Eric reminded me again how important it is to share (more) with others - for our own happiness!

River and I lifting Eric after dinner. See how happy we are.

Excited About Film

A few weeks back, I was assigned by a close friend to be a photographer on his graduation day. He asked me around 4 months beforehand, and since this is what I would usually do to a friend, I give it a go.

On the day, he has all of his family members with him, including his younger brother, a 9-year-old. I photographed the family almost entirely using my Leica, and the rest are quick snapshots from my Ricoh GRD IV. In the middle of my shooting, that young boy was pulling me and asked if he could see the pictures. The boy was astounded that I had no LCD screen on the back of my camera.

I tried to explain to him that my camera uses film to record the images, but he had no idea what I was talking about. Shortly after I finished the roll, I took it out and showed it to him. Using my empty camera (no film), I showed him how to compose, advance the frame, and fire the shutter. He jumped to his excitement, and laughed as I let him “pretend” to take picture of others. To make this more dramatic, the boy was totally bored after the day of speech and formal proceedings (in a language he didn’t understand), and playing with the film camera literally energises him and we all can see from the spark in his eye.

This is astounding, even to me. How could he never seen a film before? More surprising fact is that the boy was excited because he could not see the pictures immediately after he took it. I immediately thought, what in the world just happened? Chimping, or looking at pictures from LCD, is the rewarding part of doing digital photography. Now, there’s a boy who’s jubilant because he could not see what he just took.

This is more than a mere generation gap, this invited me to ask more questions, such as why schools today did not make this a common knowledge. If schools are still teaching them to draw using 2B pencils on paper (instead of just drawing on Adobe Photoshop), then why shouldn’t they know about film too? On the other hand, I am happy to be able to share and pass a wonderful knowledge to a different generation. I am pretty sure he would share his wonderful encounter with a cool photographer with film camera to his classmates, whom I’m sure all took pictures using their disposable mobile phone cameras. 

P.S. Speaking of kids and film, I recently came across this project. I haven’t dig thoroughly, but it looks like a great cause to me.

Behind Street Photography

“One of the beautiful things about street photography is that we don’t need to drive 10,000 miles to take a photo of a double-rainbow in the mountains or something like that. Street photography is all about everyday people, things, and moments. It is often the most common and mundane things which make the most interesting and meaningful images.” -Eric Kim

Degraves Street Cafe. Melbourne, January 2012.

I first love photography by loving the nature; and my aim in photography was to shoot natural phenomena in the nature. However, in my entire life, I always have lived in a big metropolitan city, and quite often nature is simply impossible to reach without a few hours of driving. This is the initial point where I am evolving my photographic style and when I found street photography to be quite fascinating. I always loved people. It’s what I studied in uni (psychology, sociology and such).

As much as I love travelling, there are often commitments that won’t allow me to leave for a long period of time, which is a shame. But I thought, I shouldn’t use this as an excuse to stop producing artworks. Arts is very broad; and I know I can express myself differently when I’m not close to the nature and mountain landscapes. I started looking at the work of street photographers - from the masters such as Henri Cartier-Bresson, Robert Capa, Garry Winogrand, to present-day photographers such as Martin Parr, Saul Leiter, Charlie Kirk, Eric Kim, to name few of them. These are influences to my street photography style today. I’m yet to find my own style.

One of the most important lesson I learned as of today is that: street photography is undoubtedly the hardest genre of photography I have ever tried. On the other hand, I often found photographing streets can relieve stress and boredom, while being challenging at the same time. The process is so much different than taking landscape pictures. Words would be insufficient to convey the difference (you should dive into this yourself), but if you like, it requires a lot more attention - full attention (imagine paying attention to your breathing during meditation. Street photography has a “rhythm” too). Street photography requires a lot of walking around, and it’s a good recreation in today’s world when everyone else entertained themselves at home by watching TV, playing iPad, browsing the net, etc. I have no idea why many people today can’t see walking as a great, positive activity. Ever heard of the old saying, “travelling is about the journey, not the destination”? I’ve stopped making excuses to myself and just walk with my camera whenever I can (i.e. stop making excuses such as, “I don’t need to go to X today,” “I don’t need to buy anything,” etc). Or to make it more enjoyable, one could make it a photo-walk with friends or a photo-date with your loved ones (I’m never a big fan of watching the latest movie on cinema every week/fortnight. Not every new movies impressed me).

Many people around me thought what I was doing is weird, mainly because they thought I’m invading others’ privacy and I’m very rude. They believed that I would eventually be sued by someone who’s unhappy about what I do. Let’s step back and think about this for a moment. Most people who spread those rumours and acting very negatively about my approach on photographing strangers are actually people who never jump on the street and do it him/herself. It is scary I have to admit, but Rinzi Ruiz of Streetzen made a clear point on his writing that that fear usually exist only on our mind; we, street photographers, probably never had anything happen to us, and 99% of the time, people on the street react positively when they have their pictures taken, especially when they get complimented. Of course, the photographer also play a big role in his part: if I didn’t smile or even say thank you, people probably won’t react the same way. Street photography isn’t only about the picture-taking, it’s also about your attitude and how did you “break the ice” too.

The only time I got yelled at was on the street of Paris, when this street magician/performer yelled at me in French, whilst I wasn’t even trying to take his picture. Sure, it made me feel down and scared at that time, but since then, I learn not anymore to take pictures of homeless, street performers or some people who sell stuff on the market (few on them got upset about it). Firstly, they are too easy (as a result, often they are boring tourist pictures), and secondly, you’re increasing your chance of getting confronted.

And lastly, what’s the big deal: street photographers don’t mean any harm, people have been doing this since Henri Cartier-Bresson started it in the 1960s, and no one had a problem with it. And if someone on the street is being unhappy with you photographing, you can cover your face or cover the camera lens with your palm. This is what celebrities have been doing for decades. 

My previous post, 1Q12, was the street pictures I took during the 1st quarter of 2012. Eric Kim taught us to rigorously edit and select and show my best pictures only, and I think it is a brilliant idea to improve myself as a photographer (Note that edit ≠ Photoshop. The article elaborates what being an editor means). Editing, or being an editor to your own work, is one of the toughest task in street photography. Think of why magazines have editors; this is probably similar but on a different scale and context.

Darkroom Report

Recently, I tried something new - I developed my own black & white 35mm films. This is an old thing to do indeed, but certainly isn’t for true artists :)

As for the general instructions and the how-to, I first watched several videos and I found this to be the best one, and I also look at the packaging of my Kodak T-Max developer as a general guideline. As for the more specific instructions and helps, I exchanged a few e-mails with Gordon Lewis of Shutterfinger. Gordon gave me tremendous help before I did my processing; he helped me recommending the developer to use, which liquid is not essential, which liquid can be reused, what does 1+4 and 1+9 dilution meant, where to hang my film dry, etc. I came across Shutterfinger blog whilst searching for Ricoh GRD IV review, but ended up browsing around the blog more than I was planning to. You might also want to check it out.

I also was looking at darkroom tutorials by John Sypal here. He’s doing a bulk amount of processing which is not very relevant for a novice like me, but something I should think about doing in the near future. John also wrote quite a bit of tutorials on darkroom printing, which I haven’t planned to do yet.

Whilst I was shopping for the chemicals, the store person, whom I ended up found in Tumblr too, recommended me an iPhone app called Massive Dev Chart, which was sold for $9.50 or so in the App store. That seems quite expensive, but when you look at the capabilities of this app, you’ll immediately forget that price and will tell yourself that you’re glad you’ve bought the app. It allows you to see the difference in developing time when mixing different dilutions, it shows you which film can be developed with which developer, it guides you if you want to push-process films that’s not listed by the manufacturer (e.g. push-process Fuji Neopan 400 using Kodak T-Max developer). It even tells you when to agitate your tank (the timer wiggles).

So enough introduction for now, and we’ll move on to the real report now.

The most difficult part I have encountered so far, is the unloading of film to the reels. Mostly because we are doing this in the dark room, and you’ll have to rely mostly on your proprioception (touch) and feel everything with your finger: where is the tip of the film, where is the clip on the reel for it, and most importantly, you have to be careful not to get stuck. If this happens, take the film out as needed and continue from where the film stuck. This happened a lot to me the first time I did this, and many parts of the film got stuck and I kept going because I feel suffocated in the dark bathroom. The films ended up touching each other (not perfectly parallel as they should be), and ended up looking like this.

The developer didn’t got through those parts, so they remain undeveloped when it came out. Yes, the one in videos looked really easy, but not for someone who just started. However, Gordon assured me that it would eventually become natural, I just have to practice with dummy films. So that’s what I did whilst watching YouTube or reading a book.

As for the whole developer -> stop bath -> fixer -> washing process - they are not very difficult at all, as long as you pay attention to your timer. Rest assured that they are easier than baking any cake. Below is the picture of the very first film I developed (Kodak T-Max 100).

In the second round, I’m developing two Fuji Neopan 400s in one go. This time, I was a lot more calm and confident through the whole process, and ended up with a lot less mistakes during the film-to-reel gymnastics. This is what I’ve done so far, and I do my scanning at home too, using the Plustek 7600i.

Henri Cartier-Bresson’s black Leica M3. I wonder if I’m using my Leica heavy enough - that it will turn this way someday… Some viewers might actually thought “yuck, that’s an old camera!”, but it’s still an artist’s brush!

(source)

(via apartment-221b)

apartment-221b asked: Hello, I read your post regarding film, here's a tip to save money: join RFF (Rangefinder Forum) and host or participate in a bulk order of film from the US--it's much cheaper and splitting the cost of shipping helps a lot; they're a friendly group of people. I've only been there for a while, but I've been told by an older member that they do these things every few months. Unless you happen to be extremely wealthy, you should forget about buying film in Sydney.

Hey, thanks for the brilliant suggestion. I’m all for saving money.

Since I’m almost exclusively shooting film at the moment, I actually bought bulk for myself that ought to last for 6 months or a year (I bought bulk from eBay, a number of them offer free shipping too). But I’m happy to check out RFF too sometime. And I agree that the retail prices for film in Sydney is insane!

Why Film, Why Leica

When I travelled to Melbourne for a month in January, I tried an experiment: I brought my Canon EOS film SLR, two lenses (28mm and 100mm), a point-and-shoot digital (Canon Ixus 70), and that’s it. I shot about 8 rolls for the whole month. My antecedent of trying this system is to prove that 70% of the things my Canon 5D Mark II does can also be done using a small digital point-and-shoot camera. Sure, the 5D has bigger sensor, 21 megapixel, RAW format, blah blah, but who really cares? Especially for you folks who just took pictures of your friends and your food when dining in a fancy restaurant. And as I wrote before: when you know how to take pictures, your camera doesn’t really matter. And for DSLR owners, how often did you leave your camera at home/hotel because it’s too heavy and making you look like a dork? Or how often did you stop shooting because you’re short of battery? Yup, I’m tired of carrying a huge beast and putting tremendous amount of effort just to keep the camera alive.

For the rest 30% where I need the superiority of film, usually on a dedicated photo trip or street photography, I don’t bother with my point-and-shoot digital and bring my Canon film SLR. (In all honesty, I don’t see that much of a difference between APS-C sensor digital cameras and FF sensors; thus if I want something extraordinary, I went back to square one: shoot film.) Which, by the way, I didn’t even need to change the battery of this film camera, it just keeps going. How about that! 

In February 2012, I sold my DSLR Canon 5D Mark II and decided to made a move to the Leica system. If any of you readers do also shoot with it, I got the M6 TTL and 35mm f/2.8 Summaron. I am not loaded to buy the latest and greatest M9 or M9P digital, which are probably still inferior to any immortal Leica film cameras, and will be ousted and replaced within 2 years (the film M6 and M6 TTL models were produced for something like 18 years, in comparison). There is something good about using this decade-old camera in today’s fast-paced world: it allows you to slow down, think about the picture, compose, take the pictures with a purpose and intention, rather than snapping away 50 pictures of the same thing that will end up in your trash. I like doing something with a purpose. My artworks are more meaningful when I put all my hearts into making it. 

The Leica M6 (or any Leicas for this matter) is very simple and extremely unconfusing; there’s only about six features in the camera, each with their dedicated knob/button (shutter release, shutter speed dial, film advance lever, viewfinder lines preview, film rewind lever, and ISO speed set), yet I’m certain there will be a steep learning curve to me. Yes, six features are enough for me; I want a camera, not a mini-computer-with-powerful-processor to take my pictures. For instance, since there’s no autofocus in the Leica, I’ll train my brain to pre-focus or zone-focus (of subject’s distance) and/or focus on anything that moves (e.g. street photography). I soon would also learn how to process my own black & white films in the darkroom. And although the camera does have a TTL metering, I’m pretty sure will train my brain to determine the exposure. There’s another good reason for the Leica being so expensive: it will make me stick my eye to the 35mm lens (or whatever focal length) point of view for a long time, before I distract my attention to anything else (such as a new lens).

Hang on, a minute ago I said that our camera doesn’t really matter, and the next I raved about how great a Leica is?

No, it doesn’t, and I won’t attribute my success in photography to the brand my camera. Did Lewis Carroll need the latest MacBook Pro to write the immortal “Alice in Wonderland”? Had I instead used another old mechanical camera such as the Nikon F2 or Pentax K-1000, I’m sure the result will be the same. In fact, I did enjoy my time in Melbourne when I used the digital point-and-shoot, due to the fact it’s very stealthy, quiet and many people are not intimidated from it (yes, security guards do approach you when you use giant DSLRs). When a friend asked what camera I used to take the below picture, I said “an old Canon Ixus that’s older than your camera,” she went quiet. But honestly, if your goal is to be very discreet, compact cameras are the way to go. It’s explained here - it’s not your digital disposable pockets, it’s a lot better than that.

The real reason Leica won me is that its system is very light for extraordinary pictures (and this allows me to carry it to places where people already gave up and eat their dinner). Lightweight and portability is important for those of us who travel and trek to the wilderness. Another reason is the compatibility of Leica system. That 35mm f/2.8 Summaron lens? My copy was made in 1962 and works perfectly with the M6 TTL of 2000. With Canon or Nikon, good luck trying to use adapter to put on any 1960s lens on your latest DSLR, and pray that all its features are working. Leica doesn’t plan to obsolesce their own system; which is why that same 1962 35mm Summaron lens will work perfectly on the latest M9P, too. In other words, if any of you readers decided one day to send me a Leica M9P for my birthday present, I already have a lens that’s working for it!

Also, as I have shot street photography more and more lately, I am more conscious about what I’m shooting with. An SLR is too loud and scare many people away that I’ve lost confidence using it for streets and when you need to be discreet. Leica is a lot more quiet due to lack of mirror and prism, and because it’s entirely mechanical (as opposed to automatic film advance of any electronic Canon SLRs). And today, DSLRs can be found everywhere. I mean, everywhere. Every second person I see on the street holds a DSLR. Your colleague’s kid’s boyfriend has one. If I went to Melbourne last month without any cameras, chances are I can rent a DSLR from major camera store in that city, and rent it for a week, and be done (I don’t have to pay any depreciation from owning one). But what if I want to rent a Leica M film cameras? Heaven helps me finding one before my holiday’s over.

Probably my last reason is purely aesthetic: I love and appreciate great minimalist designs. The most Zen of Leica’s simplicities is that it has no ON-OFF switch. You can turn the M6 TTL’s knob to OFF, but you never need it: the camera consume powers only for ±10 seconds when you meter your shot. I ignore my OFF button and simply not advancing the film if I want to avoid accidentally tripping the shutter. As far as I know, the only modern device that does this today is the Apple iPod and iPad.

I Haven’t Need It Yet

When I started photography a couple of years ago, and I was about to buy an external flash, I sound very much like any other beginners who knows nothing. I was thinking, “the price of the highest-end model flash is not that much more expensive than the mid-range model. I’ll probably just save until I can get the best one.” The same saying probably goes to lenses, such as, “I’ll buy the professional glass, so I’ll make better pictures and never having to upgrade again. If I want to sell it, I’ll probably won’t lose much this way.” Etc.

In other words, many of us convince ourselves that we will be “eventually turning pro,” so it is okay to own expensive top-of-the-line equipment. Moreover, every pro on the sites and forums recommended you “to get the best equipment you can.” The problem is, you don’t even know what kind of photography that person did. Why should you follow one’s recommendation, while that person (usually salesperson) don’t really understand (or even care about) your requirement? Spending in this manner is okay if you are loaded and have money to burn; but not for poor students or anyone on budget.

Fast forward around six years later (around 2011), and guess what? I haven’t need it yet. I thought I’ll need that giant Canon 580EX II Speedlite, but not at all. On the contrary, I study the light and make the best use of it without artificial lighting. Sure, every now and then I’ll need to shoot pictures indoors, but not more than once or twice per month, and in this case even the little 270EX II is powerful enough and can even fit in my pocket. If you compare the specifications of both flashes, of course the 270EX II is not impressive at all, but I try it myself instead of reading reviews and forums, so I know how well it performs (for my usage). 

The same story goes with lenses. Magazines, marketers, salespersons and your photo buddies are all recommending you to have lenses from 16mm to 200mm, otherwise you might miss that shot of a lifetime. This is why amateurs have the need to cover 16-35mm, 24-70mm, and 70-200mm every time they went out for a photo shoot. No! I just recently realised that all I need is that ordinary 28mm or 35mm lens that is right on my camera I was using when I started photography. If someone had given me this advice, I wouldn’t have wasted my time researching, buying (and selling) and trying all other crazy gears and instead I’d just focused in front of that ordinary 35mm lens.

Ever heard the saying that the normal lens is the 50mm lens*? Like almost all old-wives-tale, people just put “normal” and “50mm lens” together without asking why. To me, the normal lens is that one focal length that is working best for you. To some people, this is 35mm, some others it’s 28mm, or 50mm. Over the years, I convinced myself that: yes, I need that macro lens and sometime later that I need that tele-zoom. Sure, I use them occasionally, but at the end of the day, it’s my normal lens that is suitable to most situations. I haven’t needed the other lens. If anything, I’ll use a fixed 90mm or 100mm lens (they’re the same thing, really. Just step back and forth to make up the difference).

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*Historically, before zoom lenses existed, the kit lens that comes with a 35mm (SLR/rangefinder) camera body is a 50mm fixed lens. Anything less than 50mm is considered as “wide-angle lens” and anything longer is considered as “tele lens”. Today, it doesn’t mean anything, really.

Simplicity in Cameras

Let me start with a premise that I am a big fan of mechanical cameras. Exactly what are they? It’s the kind of camera that you see below.

Mechanical camera, as opposed to today’s electronic and automated cameras, are immortal. They are mostly made of metal which lasted longer than today’s plastic DSLRs, and most of them require no batteries to operate. You may need it for metering, but if you didn’t have one, you don’t have to pack up and go home: they still can run their shutter and advance through their films. This is especially true to those who can calculate exposures in their head. With electronic cameras, no batteries mean it’s time to go home.

I can go on and on about the pros and cons of mechanical and electronic cameras, but I don’t need to. To most people, it’s totally obvious that today’s plastic DSLR are the winners because they are packed with more features. For the rest of us, including your author of this blog, it’s totally obvious that any mechanical cameras of any age are great as it can be. To some of us, more features only serve to distract our attentions. 

Let me put this into an analogy. Imagine you’re offered a choice to read an e-book in either a Kindle or an iPad. The result is the same: you read the same book and same content, but with an iPad, you may as well check your e-mail, your Facebook, browse the Internet, maybe play some games, check your favourite YouTube channel, make your move on Scrabble… And so on. Not stating that iPad is bad, but you may finish the same book slower with the iPad.

Or, let me put it this way. Today, anyone can type anything they want on their computers or iPad or mobile phones, be it for their blog, Internet browsing, work or e-mail. Compare this to the era of clunky typewriter. One time, my university lecturer told me that back in her undergraduate years, she had to ask a typist to type her dissertation (yes, “typist” was a profession). Back then, the person who types only type what they wanted; a single mistake would ruin the whole paper and showing an incompetency. I like to think this way when making pictures: be slow, careful, but sure. Any sloppy techniques and incompetencies will eventually be discovered.

When you get an automation in your camera (i.e. auto-focus, auto-exposure, auto-white balance, etc), you are trading an episode of your consciousness for a convenience. Sure, these features are all made by human using the artificial intelligence. Engineers try to create “brains” (chips/processors) into the machine, but I believe none of them can be as smart as our mind.* When you let the camera takes all the action, it robs away all your creativity. Only you know how your final image should look like. You can use auto-exposure to let yourself “capture the peak moment”, but at the very least, you’ll also need to know when you need to apply an exposure compensation. The marketing division of Canon and Nikon made it sound like the camera will do its job and create a masterpiece for you, but in reality, every creative photographers I know are very discriminative and switching most of the camera features into Manual modes - manual exposure, white balance, ISO, etc.

The difference between cameras, any cameras, are subtle and often the difference can’t be seen on the final image. If you know what you’re doing, probably you’ll get the same picture regardless of the camera. However, the difference is in the process. They are different doors to the same house. When I’m being discriminative and wanting to be in full control, which are the recipe of my creative works, I do everything manually too. For this, often the simplest camera like the Nikon F2AS (above) or any film Leica cameras is the best tool for the job, simply because you’re putting all your attention to your photographs, not the 3.0” LCD with cluttered menus on the back. Simplicity is the key here, and clutter-free device will allow you to connect and relate with your subject instead of distracting your attention with things that have nothing to do with photography.

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*Bruce Barnbaum, author of The Art of Photography, wrote that the light meter should have been called grey meter, because all it does is that it takes a reading of any light into Zone 5 (grey medium tonality). Nothing more. We have to calculate whether we want our final picture to be in the Zone 5 or not, and compensate accordingly.