50 Rolls Darker - Chapter 1
How I feel after shooting 50 rolls of film
Well, 45 to be exact
The creation of photos has never been so frictionless. Everyone with a modern smartphone has an extremely capable camera in their pocket. Mirrorless camera technology continues to improve with features such as pre-capture, improved metering, and AI powered focus features that essentially reduce the complexity of capturing the image to match the smartphone experience. After you brave the labyrinth of camera settings that is. Demand for digital point and shoot cameras continue to rise for those that are sick with the HDR polished images, and folks that miss buttons. And let's not forget that with AI you can effortlessly generate images by describing what you like in your image. This got me asking myself a few questions while I was culling photos from a trip I took last year.
Does the number of images you create cheapen each image?
If you can now generate all of the (currently semi-realistic and occasionally with extra limbs and fingers) stock photos you would need, do you even need to be original anymore?
Did I really have to take a 30th picture of that rock formation, in the same lighting conditions, from a similar angle, with the exact same camera settings?
No. Yes. Maybe?
No. If you take 100 amazing photos of your subject during a photography session, you have 100 amazing photos. But who is going to have the attention span to see 100 photos of the same subject? Someone amazing. That's who.
Yes. Someone is going to have the feed the AI machine right? But more importantly, what originality means to each and everyone of us is completely subjective. That drive for us to attain what we might consider to be original I feel is important, and we should not lose sight of it.
Maybe? You'll hear the argument again and again of how memory is cheap these days, so go ahead, spray and pray. Or perhaps we're all being pushed to purchase SSD drives via Amazon reseller links?
Camera technology overload
Slow me down. I miss the struggle.
Last year I was lucky enough to have been given the opportunity to purchase the Sony A7RV at an insanely good price. I was looking to upgrade from my Sony A7II. My head was tied to the Sony eco-system with the lenses I have acquired over the years. But my heart yearned for something new. I tried out some of the pro-sumer mirrorless cameras that were on display at B&H Photo Video in NYC:
Panasonic S5II - Is it time to join the L mount alliance?
Fujifilm XT5 - What are these film simulations r/fujifilm keep talking about?
Nikon Z6ii - The Nikon 1 was my first mirrorless camera, is it time to return home?
Sony A7RV - Wow, this screen really can Bend it like Beckham.
I convinced myself that the Sony would futureproof me. Told myself that I would grow to the love the camera.
The A7RV would join me on a holiday to Tokyo Japan. For a trip around Spain. I would take hundreds of photos. I would marvel at the amount of detail I could get from the 60MP sensor. The in body stabilization would let me shoot with my F4 lenses comfortably in low light situations with absurdly high ISO settings.
Any modern day camera is a technological marvel that will enable you to shoot how you want, whenever you want, whatever you want, with consistent results.
But without struggle, can there be growth?
I had a new fancy camera with all the megapixels and technology that I could ever want. I was expecting a surge of excitement (damn you GAS), but nothing held me back from shooting as I always have. As a My photography became stale. Clinical almost. My "editing" backlog grew and grew, as the number of photos I was proud of diminished. I felt at a loss.
Shake it up. Break it down.
If there's one thing I learnt to do at an early age, it was to be unproductively self critical. I criticized myself for not doing more with my Sony A7RV. Sometimes this mental "hack" works on me, and the kid inside that doesn't handle criticism well kick it up a notch and get back up on the horse, but try as I might, I just couldn't bring myself to interact with the Sony. So much so that I would leave it behind during my travels and events and opt for my older gear instead.
A ski trip with friends, my lightweight Nikon 1 J5 and 10mm prime.
A trip back to Australia for a friends wedding, my Leica Q for its amazing manual focus experience, and beautiful SOOC colors.
And then like everyone else, I pre-ordered a Fujifilm X100VI.
And like everyone else, I found out that I was going to be waiting at least 6 to 8 months until that camera would arrive.
I told my younger brother about my first world problems. That I wanted a camera that was lighter, with a lens that had tactile manual controls, preferably and optical viewfinder, and good enough colors that I could avoid editing.
He told me to go buy a film camera
And I totally did. Looking back, I think it saved my love for photography.