As I mentioned last week, it all started (photographically) with my grandfather’s Rolleicord Vb. The Rollei is a twin-lens reflex medium format camera from the late 60’s. I know from reading many other articles like this that words to avoid are “wonder” and “amazement” when describing one’s first real look through a viewfinder, but it was an important moment for me, looking down into the ground glass. Little did I know then how much pleasure would come to me as a result of that activity - composing an image in the viewfinder. My first look, and serious thinking about photography came on a trip to northern New Mexico with my family. Of course, there is really no more heady place to begin learning photography than northern New Mexico, the domain of many masters of photography, past and present. By the time I returned home, I had a grasp on the fundamentals of making a photograph: shutter speed, aperture, depth of field, film speed, etc. I lacked a camera to apply this knowledge, though. And so began my campaign to acquire a camera to take those breathtaking images I just knew were waiting to be made.
That campaign resulted in a camera which far exceeded my poor abilities to make a photograph - a Hasselblad 501c, with an 80mm lens. It was black chrome, and beautiful to use and hold. I hoped to have a Hasselblad, knowing that they were really great cameras, and that Ansel Adams used one. If he used one and made great images, I would make great images too. Of course, this was not really the case - I made a lot of photos of my dog, and one especially sentimental image of a rose in our front yard in the rain, which makes me cringe now just thinking about it. All of these images were black and white, because that’s what (I thought) “Serious Photographers” used. My exposures were less than perfect, and so I did a great deal of reading about Adams’ Zone System, filters, and so on. This camera was perfect for me at the time (more than I realized then) because it was completely manual - no meter, no autofocus. I really had to learn those fundamentals of photography, rather than having a device to do them for me. In time, I also added a 150mm lens to my outfit. Of course, this was really impractical for me to use as a general-use camera, so several years later I added a Rolleiflex 2.8, thinking that the lighter TLR (Twin Lens Reflex) would help. It was cheap because it needed adjustments to its shutter speeds, and I never really got that fixed. I think beyond just shutter speeds, my real problem was that I left my camera in its case until it was time for “serious” photography. I enjoyed making photos, but it felt very formal, and almost perfunctory to me. I started to feel the need for something much smaller and easier to take with me, but with the same level of quality as medium format. This started to come to me while I was in my undergraduate program - which seems to be the time everyone branches out on one way or another. My yearning led to more discussions with my grandfather and some research on my own.
These discussions and such led to my selling the Hasselblad to my uncle (which he still has), selling the Rolleiflex and the 150mm Hasselblad lens on eBay, and buying a Leica M6 with a collapsible 50mm Elmar 2.8 lens. Such a small camera was a revelation for me - discreet, quick to operate, an internal meter, and fast lenses allowed me to operate in natural light. This was quite a change - the meter and the ability to make images in natural light in almost all outdoor circumstances. As a matter of fact, looking back on it now, I almost soaked up that natural light, in a much less toxic way than Van Gogh consumed his paints - trying to absorb the colors he was seeing (I am, admittedly, no Van Gogh, though). By the time I sold my Leica outfit (surprised?) I had just about all of the “fast” lenses one can have - I had a 1.0 50mm Noctilux (it was a dream to photograph in near-darkness), 2.0 35mm Summilux, and a 2.0 90mm APO-Summicron. I also moved around from an M6 to a black paint MP, which was indeed even better than the M6. Just like my first Hasselblad taught me something important, the Leica taught me how to (in an appropriate way) consume and work with that light. My Leica days also coincided with my courses in drawing and design - both of which I really think improved my composition skills many times over. Then came the day (like so many others in the early “aughts”) when I went digital. I sold my MP and bought an M8. The M8 was the first digital camera I used with any regularity, and I think the relative ease of taking photos helped me to become a better self-editor. What makes a better image, when is a good moment to click the shutter, etc.? Of course, my tastes in photography changed. I think, honestly, my interest in photography waned some at this point. I had a great deal of really expensive gear, and used it very little. I sold most of it, and moved to something easier to use (more brainless).
My next move was to go Nikon. I acquired a D300 and came upon an F5. I always wanted an F5, it’s such an imposing camera - so authoritative. It is simple and easy to use, but it’s pretty darn heavy. The D300 was a pretty good digital camera at the time. Honestly, I have been dissatisfied with the D300, even though we still have it. I just feel like it makes mediocre-quality images - excepting my abilities. The best thing about Nikon was that there are so many autofocus lenses out there for Nikon that I could try many, many different kinds. I love our 20mm lens on the F5 - and this is where I discovered my love of ultra wide-angle lenses. I started in photography always wishing for a longer focal length, but I have moved far to the other side of the spectrum. Then, a mysterious package showed up containing a camera.
And that camera was a Hasselblad H3DII-31. This was the worst camera I have ever used. It was really heavy, hard to use, and had terrible metering and autofocus. I made a couple of decent images with it, but was always so frustrated by using it that I took little pleasure out of using it. I created phenomenal images (if the camera cooperated) but I just felt as thought I fought the camera every time I took images with it. As a matter of fact, I am frustrated right now even writing about it. This camera is probably the only one I have ever used that I gained nothing from. So, be not surprised when I tell you, reader, that I quickly sold this camera and acquired a different one.
It was a chrome Hasselblad 205FCC, seen here with my F5. Compared to the 501c I had a long time ago, the 205 was a joy to use - it has an internal meter with shutter priority and a focal plane shutter for faster shutter speeds. I had an 80mm and a 50mm for this camera, and the 50 stayed on it almost all the time. I loved the wide angle lens, but it was heavy! This was just fine, even though Jen and I walked all over London with me lugging that really heavy camera around the whole time. I felt comfortable returning to the square - it really (pardon the pun) clicked for me when I returned to it. I loved the simplicity of operation for the 205, and the big, square negative. I think I would have kept it, but that I discovered that Hasselblad is no longer making parts or repairing the 200 series cameras, which are much more fragile than a normal blade (or Copal) shutter. Jen and I had several discussions, during which time she encouraged me (rightly so) to stay with the square format. In addition, I had always wanted something wider than the 50mm that I had on the 205. Admittedly, I could have purchased a 40mm, but I wanted something smaller.
Not reluctantly, I ended up with a Hasselblad 903SWC. I have loved using this camera thus far - how wide it is, how easy it is to use (with hyperfocal distance) and how (comparatively) small and light it is. It’s also, hands-down, the best lens I have ever used. What has this camera taught me? I am not sure - but I look forward to sharing the results with you on flickr.
Looking back on this litany of cameras, several pertinent points come to mind. First, I think my primary camera at any given time was (in one way or another) a reflection of who I was then. The best cameras are extensions of ourselves, and I would like to think that I strive for that, even now. Some of the cameras from my past were more reflections of who I wanted to be, rather than who I am. Second, each of these cameras (with the exception of the H3DII) taught me something that informs my photography. So, in a sense, all of the cameras that have gone before are not for naught. I feel as though I would not be the person or the photographer I am now without all of those cameras (and lessons) that came before. Third, I really like the square, and more specifically, Hasselblads. I have no real reason for my affinity with this particular brand, other than personal preference. It’s interesting to see how, in their own way, the camera helped to make the photographer, I suppose. I hope you enjoyed this rather lengthy trip through my cameras.
Note: this post supersedes this previous one.
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