Does Your Camera Matter?...

“There is only you and your camera. The limitations in your photography are in yourself, for what we see is what we are.” – Ernst Haas

I was reminded of this quote the other day when I saw a post online titled “Will the Sony a7 III Cause You to Jump Ship?”

This is typical of the obsession with gear in photography today. Everyone wants more megapixels, more AF points, faster frame rates, mirrorless cameras, EVF (electronic viewfinders), IBIS (in body image stabilization), and on and on. People are not satisfied with the lenses they have so they keep buying the latest f/1.2 Art lens thinking that will improve their photography.

And when a new camera comes out, it foretells the death of Nikon or Canon, or Sony, or DSLRs.

Or the incessant comparisons between cameras: “We compare the Sony A 7 R III to the Canon 5D Mark II to the Nikon D850. Which camera is better?” Really?

And thanks to the manufacturer’s marketing efforts and photography blogs, and YouTube videos the obsession with gear continues. I think that in no other art form is there such an obsession with the tools used to produce the final work of art. (I doubt if you’ll find that sculptors obsess over their tools asking questions of which chisel is better, should I buy this chisel or wait for the next version. Or painters posting comparisons of different manufacturer’s brushes or canvases.)

For me, none of that really matters. What matters is the image, the photograph you produce. What matters is your vision. What matters is what you feel about your subject. What matters is how you framed your image, the quality of focus, the depiction of time, and how you arranged the content of your image.

And don’t get me started on megapixels. I dare say that most people who get into these discussion are not making huge prints but are mainly posting to web sites. You really need a 50 MP camera to post to Flickr?

And if you print, most affordable printers can only manage A3 or A4 paper size. I’ve printed images on A3 paper that came from a 3 PM camera and they are gorgeous.

Here are some images that were taken with the following cameras:

Canon Powershot S410 - 4MP 

CoolPix 5700 - 5MP

Olympus EPL1 - 12MP

Nikon D1 - 3MP

Nikon D1X - 5MP

Nikon D50 - 6MP

Nikon D300 - 12MP

Nikon D5100 - 16.2MP

Nikon D7000 - 16.2MP

Nikon D610 - 24.3MP

Nikon D750 - 24.3MP

Nikon D7500 - 21MP

Motorola G3 - 13MP

Can you match the photograph to the camera and megapixels?

I didn’t think so. Because “There is only you and your camera. The limitations in your photography are in yourself, for what we see is what we are.” – Ernst Haas

‘Tri-X, f/8, and be there.”

A Very Personal Post...

Two year ago today, as my father was very near the end of his life, I took this photograph of my sister Mary Jane and my father. I am still haunted by this tender moment between a loving daughter and her father. All we were able do at that time was to offer what comfort we could and hope he would sense our presence and our love as he slowly left us.

It was some time later that I discovered the poem “Shifting the Sun” by Diana Der-Hovanessian. It speaks to how different cultures respond to a father’s death. I then added the poem to the above photograph.

When I was 14, my father taught me how to develop film and print pictures. And that has made all the difference in my life. My father died two years ago tomorrow. I photographed him the last two months of his life. I don’t share those photographs with anyone, not even my siblings. They are a personal, private communication between my father and myself. 

My father died two years ago tomorrow.

“When your father dies, say the Armenians

Your sun shifts forever

And you walk in his light.”

“Tri-X, f/8, and be there.”

A Union Man...

Let me tell you a little about my dad. He was not only a photographer, but a machinist at Fairbanks Morse. He worked the second shift, 3:00PM to 11:00PM. He also worked part time at Yagla’s Camera Store repairing cameras and projectors.

He was born on July 28, 1919 in Auburn, Nebraska. 

He graduated from the Crete, Nebraska high school in 1939.

After graduation from high school, he moved to Beloit and began an apprenticeship program at Fairbanks Morse which he completed in 1943.

My brother found all of his pay stubs stashed away in the attic. Here’s one from 1941.

And one from December of 1983. He retired in 1984 when he turned 65.

My dad was a proud member of the United Steel Workers of America.

My dad kept a book with the details of the various jobs he would run on his machine. Each job had a number. When he had to run the jobs again in the future, he had all the details on how to set it up.

My dad’s machine was a 3” Bar. A friend who worked at Fairbanks and knew my dad told me this story. A new supervisor was walking around the shop talking to people. He stopped at the machine next to my dad’s and asked the guy what it was. The guy told him it was a 5” Bar. He then asked my dad what his machine was. My dad responded with 3” Bar. The supervisor then asked my dad what the difference between the two machines was. My dad responded: 2”.

In 1972, when I was home for a visit from Rochester Institute of Technology, my dad got permission for me to go into the shop to photograph him at his machine. I think I used these photograph for a class project. It was my first and last time in the factory where he worked. My first thought was that I was so glad I was going to college. I don’t know how he worked there for 40 years.

So I treasure these photographs of him. I am glad I was able to see where he worked and what he did. He was very good at it. 

These were taken with a Leica M4, Tri-X pushed one stop. Lenses were 35mm, 50mm, and 90mm.

Tri-X, f/8, and be there.

Thoughts on the Approach of the Second Anniversary of My Father’s Death...

When I was 14, my father taught me how to develop film and print pictures. And that has made all the difference in my life. I was allowed to use his cameras until I was able to buy my own. Even better, I was allowed to use his darkroom in the basement.

My father passed away on April 9, 2016 at the age of 96. I photographed the last two months of his life. More about that in another post.

But this is the way I will always remember him; a smile on his face and a camera in his hand. 

2001

Apparently he always had a camera in his hand as we have family photographs starting in 1943 with the first born and through all the years with the rest of us.

1946

1947

1947

1948

1949

1950

1951

1962

1963

Family studio portrait 1965

The last family group shot 2001

I think I’ll stop here. There are thousands of photographs, way to many to post here. As I said, my dad always had a camera in his hand.

Tri-X, f/8, and be there.

Cropping...

So as I posted last week, the photograph of the cardinal was cropped. Well here are the visuals. The cropped image is somewhat less that 1/4 of the frame.

Pretty impressive for the Tamron 100-400 and a 20mp crop sensor.

Tri-X, f/8, and be there