On cameras and flies
25 Apr 2008, 5pm
I am as they say hereabouts nul when it comes to taking photographs. As a designer slash art director I think I had a fairly good eye for what makes a picture work, and what makes one work in a layout – at least I hope so, wouldn’t want those thousands of hours spent squinting into loupes over light tables saying nope nope nope to have amounted to nothing. When it comes to taking the things myself though, always a frustration. Press the shutter release, hope for the best, and never ever end up with what was expected (well, maybe once). Not entirely unversed in the logic of exposure time and apertures, but ultimately just too impatient to develop anything like the supple knowledge photographers whose work I like can access in an instant. That and I’ve been using the wrong goddamn cameras.
For years now I’ve used Leica (or more often the Panasonic Lumix versions, which have the same glass and electronics but come much cheaper) consumer-end cameras, mainly because some lingering art school snobbery I picked up as a teenager dictates that anything Leica or Hasselblad marks you as a better photographer than any Japanese silliness ever possibly could. True or not (not) the pictures kept turning out wrong: impossible to get a good white balance in anything other than direct sunlight, noisy junk all over the place at any speed greater than 100 ASA, slippery autofocus that took, like, a couple hours to lock in before firing the shutter. Finally it dawned on me after a few years of blind brand allegiance what Leica’s consumer products are: a brilliant, razor-sharp lens up front, a webcam on back.
I’ve always been reluctant to use a DSLR – the one sure thing about being an expat is you never want to look like a tourist – however having just this week received a lump sum payment that has at long last made its way through the barely perceptible movements of the rusty squeaking gears that is accounts payable at a certain publishing concern that shall remain, er, unnamed, I did two capricious things I’d been champing at the bit to do for ages: bought Herself (who is, justifiably, more than a little tired of being given my smoked and smudged hand-me-downs) a bright shiny white portable computing device, and myself a Nikon D60, with the standard vanilla 18–55mm kit lens. After all I’m now at the stage in life where, looks-wise, coming off as a tourist occupies the least of my concern.
First fly spotted this year. Many billions more will come.
Christ on a bike what a difference. I feel like someone handed a slice of hot toast spread with cultured butter after a lifetime breakfasting on Skittles and government cheese. I mean, it does what I want it to! It autofocuses in less time than it takes my eyes to imagine what a proper focus would be! You can take pictures in tungsten light without tacking a fucking white card to the wall and metering fifteen times! You push the button and it takes a fucking picture! I am in consumer ecstasy! I am in consumer ecstasy! NyQuil! Advil! Malt liquor!
Ahem. Gonna go take pictures of my feet.
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