[Leica] Our existential pleasures

["Simon Pulman-Jones" <spulmanjones@lbs.ac.uk>]

In the light of Erwin's recent posts, and of the recurrent analogy between
Leicaphilia and high-end audio, I have been wondering about the nature of
the 'existential pleasure' that so obviously is a part of what brings
LUGgers together on this list, and then sets them apart in discussion. In a
world in which old certainties about truth have vanished, after the death of
God and the disenchantment of state politics, one of the most valued virtues
is fidelity of reproduction. We may not be able to decide or agree on what
things mean, or which are the most important values, but when we communicate
through still or moving pictures, or through recorded sound, we can reassure
ourselves that in this age more than any other we are capable of making
faithful reproductions. Accuracy of measurement, supposed scientific
accuracy of knowledge, and accuracy of reproduction, soothe the troubled
modern soul. Seekers after audio enlightenment at the altar of high-end
audio, and those who feel Erwin's 'existential pleasure' in appreciating the
heights of Leica performance are like the ancient philosophers and
theologians who devoted themselves to defining the exact contours of their
knowledge of the world and of God. A single God, or a Trinity? Three-in-One
or One-in-Three? How many angels on the head of a pin? How is God revealed?
In an epiphany, a flash, or in the gradual stages of our understanding? How
wide is the soundstage, how extended the frequency extremes? Are we
experiencing the 'real presence' of Callas in the reproduction of this
recording, or just a distant token of it? Does the picture 'glow' with
life-like three-dimensional vibrancy, or is it 'flat' and lifeless?

It seems as if the high-end audio thing and the Leica thing appeal to an
itch somewhere in our heads which is to do with wanting to feel good about
how well we know about the world. It's an itch that some people have worse
than others, for many reasons, reasons that maybe have made them more
ambitious, or neurotic?, about getting a grip on the world, and which needs
more scratching the more you scratch it. To me it seems like a totally
human, understandable, even honourable itch to have, and I think Erwin is
absolutely right to talk about it as an 'existential pleasure' which is of
interest and value in its own right.

But the 'perfection' itch is no better or worse than the artistic and
impressionistic itch that is pleased by the results of the older lenses. For
some reason, though, it seems hard for people to argue for the virtues of
one without rubbishing the other. Why is that? It's probably also something
to do with the limitations of our grey matter - the same thing that makes it
so hard to be funny and serious at the same time - or to understand other
people's humorous intentions out here in cyberspace. We shouldn't expect the
impossible - after all, if you COULD combine the rigour and integrity of
Erwin's posts with the fecund wit and irreverence of Walt and Mark
Rabiner's, you'd be in Shakespeare territory.

For what it's worth, out of all the enlightenment and exasperation of the
LUG in recent weeks, the brightest moment, for me, was Mark Rabiner's "Who's
the fattest?" post -  talk about itches, that really tickled me. And keeping
on the same subject, Walt's post about losing the pounds to get back on the
bike - there was something spooky about that for me - like hearing about all
of my slightly secret, rather indulgent interests - from audio tubes to
bicycle tubes, and even to the search for the full set of Nuovo Record, and
the virtues of friction shifting. I don't go all the way with Walt on
high-end audio though. Audio is much harder to reproduce than two
dimensional pictures. It's not too demanding for modern photographic tools
to make a very convincing two-dimensional picture. But to recreate an
orchestra at full tilt in my living room, with a full dynamic range and the
feeling of drama that comes with the acoustic of a hall being energised -
now that is very, very difficult, and very expensive, very esoteric audio
products leave a lot still to be desired. But they are much, much better
than (still quite expensive) mainstream consumer audio products. I think the
difference here is far greater than that between mainstream and high-end
photographic equipment. Compared to the nightmare of compromise in the chain
of reproduction from the recording studio to the living room stereo the
photographic path of light-onto-film and light-onto-paper is a dream of
simplicity.

Simon Pulman-Jones