There is no ‘forever’ in life (life included), and apart from more mundane matters, this is especially true of photography. In fact, the ‘infidelity rate’ that affects many relationships with cameras and lenses is only tamed by the money it takes to break them (and sometimes even the lack of money does not stop them from happening). But at least when it comes to photography, the tranquillity of a stable relationship has some advantages over the excitement of an ever-changing course.
From daily and continuous use comes confidence, and from confidence comes a Zen-like state of mind that makes the body to react automatically when the primal part of the brain ‘sees’ a photograph before the rational hemisphere even acknowledges it.
Take the case of cars. If you get a new one every three years or so because you’re trapped in the never-ending loop of (not really) long-term rental or other financial schemes that force you to keep changing, you won’t notice. But if you own (and drive) a vehicle long enough, you become ‘one’ with it. Bends, narrow roads, uneven surfaces, unpredictable events, challenging parks, effective brake and clutch handling… it all becomes second nature. It is you who drive the car, and not vice-versa.
Getting back to photography, if you don’t have to worry about the behaviour of the camera or lens, you have fewer things to think about before pressing the shutter button, so the mind is free to sail, unencumbered by irrelevant ballast, in search of the promise land where the perfect exposure lies, waiting to be discovered.
Of course this mumbling doesn’t imply that one should still be carrying around a wet plate camera (unless, of course, this is made on purpose). Progress is a good thing, and it is supposed to make life easier for photographers. However, progress is not linear, so not every change is per se an improvement. Moreover, there is no law – except the law of programmed obsolescence – that mandates constant upgrading of equipment. So, if what matters is the act of taking a photograph, the rule of thumb should be that change should happen when it has a purpose.
In short, as Jim Collins used to say, ‘change is good, but first, know what should never change’.
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Marco Andrés on Why a Longterm Relationship (with your camera) Makes You Feel Good
Comment posted: 26/03/2025
As the modernist architect Mies van der Rohe of « less is more » fame said « No design is possible until the materials with which you design are completely understood. » And that takes time to know their limitations and affordances.
Dan Stevenson on Why a Longterm Relationship (with your camera) Makes You Feel Good
Comment posted: 26/03/2025
Comment posted: 26/03/2025
Tim Bradshaw on Why a Longterm Relationship (with your camera) Makes You Feel Good
Comment posted: 26/03/2025
I don't claim it is perfect for everyone, but using it is like coming home for me: everything is in the right place, I can, even at my age, carry it all day in one hand, the viewfinder is lovely, and the 50/1.4 lens is just perfect.
I now have to admit that I now have four MXs and three of the 50/1.4 lenses.
Steviemac on Why a Longterm Relationship (with your camera) Makes You Feel Good
Comment posted: 27/03/2025
Dann Walker on Why a Longterm Relationship (with your camera) Makes You Feel Good
Comment posted: 27/03/2025
That less is better, is a far more workable approach to everything in life. Especially with cameras.
Let's just call it minimalist, and be done with all that.
For most of my life, I acquired cameras. Yashica TLRs, Rolleis, Linhofs, Pentaxes, Minoltas, Nikkormats, Hasselblad's, Nikons, Contax Gs. Usually button always but in pairs. The "not always" refers not to single units, but multiple multiples. Like four Rolleiflex TLRs, five Nikons, six 'blads. And please, don't get me started on lenses. Or darkroom gear. You name it, I had it. Often as not in quantities.
I look back on all this now and wonder, why.
I console myself with the thought of a friend, now deceased, who left behind 175 Pentax cameras, twice that number of lenses, and an entire room of accessories. Imagine what his widow is going through, trying to dispose of the lot. We do what we can to help her, but at times I've had to resist the urge to tell her to sell off that gear by the ton.
So yes, Andrea's excellent article is most exceptionally relevant (to me, and I'm sure many others), He mentions a wet plate camera.I had one of those, in fact a full kit. It's now in a museum in Australia. Ditto a 5x7 Home Portrait Graflex kit, the only one of this range of beasts I've ever seen in my long life. Also in a private collection, in Japan. These are the only two cameras I made money on. With the rest I was lucky to break even. The 'blads I actually lost money on, but that was my fault, for shelling out too much good money on turkeys.
One lives and one learns. When I retired in 2012, I took stock, mentally and physically, of all the things in my life, and realised the enormity of what I had on my hands. Mostly unused, a lot of it little used.
Like the good architect I was during my career, I started selling. Hello Ebay! Out went 50+ cameras and lenses. In the end I recouped about 40% of what I had spent. And became the envy of my collector friends.
In the photo gear industry, the ones who make the money are the dealers. Not the buyers. If you doubt this, go off and look at Ebay. Check the sale prices for photo gear. As 've already written, live = learn.
The notion that one or two well-chosen cameras and as few lenses and accessories as actually suit me, took a long time to seep into my thick skull.
Later this year I will be off to Southeast Asia for three months of wayward wandering around three countries. Mostly in Indonesia, long my favourite and still amazingly unique in its culture and its people.
With me will come a Nikkormat FT2 and two Nikons - my most oft-used 28/3.5 Biogon and as an 85/1.8 I've owned for 40+ years but almost never used. Along with 40 films which I already have in my film fridge. The metering on the FT2 is no longer reliable, so a venerable Weston Master V will come along, which I've owned since 1982.
Everything will easily fit in a backpack, my preferred way of wandering (a medium- size Holdall bag stays in my hotel, along with my laptop, money and passport in my room safe) as I can then easily go to out-of-the-way aces without worrying about 'things'.
I'm still a long way from being as possessions-free as a Buddhist monk. But I'm getting there, if slowly. In my next life, maybe. That is if I don't return as a cat, which may well be on the cards. Seriously! (Well half)...
Andrea, I hope I haven't derailed your thread with all this. I will now go forth and see if I can find more you've written for us. you are well worth reading and I hope you will be contributing more in future.
Best from DANN in Melbourne.
Ibraar Hussain on Why a Longterm Relationship (with your camera) Makes You Feel Good
Comment posted: 27/03/2025
Now what I have and what I’d like differ somewhat - financial constraints meant I was sticking with what I have but after years of an arranged marriage I think we have fallen in love and would never part
James on Why a Longterm Relationship (with your camera) Makes You Feel Good
Comment posted: 28/03/2025