Archived posting to the Leica Users Group, 2000/06/15
[Author Prev] [Author Next] [Thread Prev] [Thread Next] [Author Index] [Topic Index] [Home] [Search]I've been thinking about quality of cameras and quality of photography since Kyle posted his message about the Toy Camera people. First off, I don't think that it's necessary to justify the purchase of a Leica anymore than the purchase of anything else. We live in a consumer society. If you want one, buy one. If you don't, don't. Who cares what pictures you take with it, or if it only sits on a shelf and collects admiring looks from jealous acquaintances? Some people buy a $4000 camera rig to take close-ups of blooming flowers, a genre of pictures that bores the living daylights out of me, but I don't feel that I have the right to judge their expenditure of money. Everyone has a different reason and arguing that one is more noble or worthy than another is like arguing that people with red hair make better citizens because they eat less peanut butter than fat kids: It doesn't make sense. So, having summarily dismissed that point, I'll engage in the long standing and well respected scientific methodology of egocentric naval-introspection and subsequent generalization to whole populations. I think that one of the most fundamental differences between good photography and bad photography (or indifferent photography, which may or may not be the same thing) is whether or not the photographer cared for the subject they were taking a picture of. Most of my pictures are booring and mundane, because I couldn't really give a sh*t about most of the stuff infront of the lens. I'm more interested in the gear than the subjects. Occasionally this is not true, mostly for people as subjects, but the interesting thing about that is that the people I care most about are the ones it is hardest to take pictures of. It's a tricky equation. On the one hand, you need to take pictures to exercise the mechanics of taking pictures, so that you are ready when there is something you really want to take a picture of. On the other hand, most of those pictures are not of things or people which you really, *really* care about. I think that what the toy camera people have going for them is that they care more about their subjects than they do about their gear. When I pocket the Agfa Clack, Moskva-5, or Canonet to go out and take pictures, the gear is so ridiculously unworthy of care and fuss that I have no choice but to focus on my subjects. Not so for the Leica. I can sit of half an hour at home and just fondle the M3 with the DR 'cron on it, with no film in the camera, and just rejoice in the wonderful, silky-smooth mechanics of the thing. I don't know what the answer is (short of selling all your possessions and travelling the world taking pictures of people in plight to inform conceited Western audiences in an attempt to educate them of the reality outside the range of MasterCard, but that would mean having to drop the PhD studies and I wouldn't be able to get that six figure income job in California that I'm hoping for in a year's time) but my way of tackling it is to set myself photographic assignments. Some get carried out, some don't, but it focusses my photographic efforts. Caring for the subjects then follows as a secondary reaction as you are forced beyond the first five rolls to start looking at things properly and thinking about how you might portray them. So (and this is where we break from our previously formulated epistemological efforts), how do *you* deal with this? M. (Archive THIS, baby) - -- Martin Howard | Visiting Scholar, CSEL, OSU | People don't like to be parameters email: howard.390@osu.edu | in an equation. www: http://mvhoward.i.am/ +---------------------------------------