When I was 8, my parents gave me a Kodak Disk 4000 Camera for my birthday. I loved that camera, and took it everywhere with me, eventually driving my family crazy by constantly photographing them.
A few years later when I moved onto secondary school, the photography took a back seat for a while, only re-emerging again after I left university in 2000 having my own web design company. After we took on our first big client, I treated myself to a Sony Cybershot DSC-S70.
Once again, I fell in love with photography, although I never really understood the technical side. The camera was permanently set to “auto”, and I shared the photos, unedited, with my friends via the internet.
In 2007, I decided I wanted to learn more about photography, and I purchased my first SLR, a Canon EOS-400D.
To begin with, I shot anything that moved, and many things that didn’t. I soaked up photographic theory like a sponge & posted everything onto the popular photo sharing site, Flickr. Photography is often described as a bug, and it’s true; once you catch it, it’s hard to shake.
But the more I learnt, the more equipment I wanted. I quickly became obsessed with purchasing the best I could afford, hoping that it would improve my photography, but in reality all it did was leave me perpetually frustrated, dealing with the constant compromise and 2nd guessing myself at every opportunity.
Every single decision we make in photography is a compromise, some have to be made in a split second, while others can be agonised over for days or weeks.
Every lens we purchase is a compromise (cost / quality / features / weight). Every shot we take is a compromise (aperture / shutter speed / ISO noise). Even the cameras themselves are compromises (cost / quality / features / practicality / conspicuousness)
A top-of-the-range Nikon won’t get the candid shot that that requires a discreet compact, or naturally reproduce the sometimes unpredictable effects from toy cameras such as the Holga or Lomo. Even the decision between “should I tweak my camera settings now or should I take this shot before it’s too late” is a compromise.
It’s taken me three years to find peace with that constant compromise, and was one of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn.
I also became frustrated with Flickr and the constant bombardment of photos I considered to be far better than my own. In the end, I deleted my photos from the site, moving them all to a photoblog under my own domain. I cut myself off from my community of friends on Flickr, effectively becoming a digital hermit. Somehow I got it into my head that having my own site would be far better than being on the same site as millions of other photographers.
I’ve always worked on the principle of trying to be photographically unique. To me, there’s nothing worse than taking a photo which could just as easily have been shot by someone else. It’s why you won’t see many shots of the moon, or landscapes in my work (ok there’s a few, but not many).
The photos I like most, are ones where I was the only person who could have taken that shot. People in unusual places or situations, abstract shots no-one else would have thought to take, single moments in time unique to me. I have always tried to develop my own distinctive style, but somehow in my head, being on Flickr was diluting that style. I thought that moving to my own website would improve things, but in reality the creative well dried up completely.
I was in a funk. I hadn’t picked up a camera in months and had lost faith in my own abilities. Even the constant desire for new camera gear had lulled.
Then, a few months ago I had a revelation. It was a thought which began its journey as a gentle gnawing at the back of my mind some months prior, but which had finally grown to the point where it could no longer be ignored.
The revelation was this:
Other people are producing amazing photographs from the most basic cameras. Some are highly technical, others clearly down to luck, but none require a costly investment in equipment. Maybe I don’t need more camera gear. Maybe I need less.
It was a simple piece by Ken Rockwell, entitled “Your camera doesn’t matter”, that had a profound effect on me and made me rethink much of my approach to photography. It was the pebble that started an avalanche.
Once I realised that beautiful photos didn’t require expensive equipment, I began to enjoy shooting again. It finally dawned on me that the very nature of photography itself is a both a compromise and a union between the technical and creative sides of the brain.
I began to shoot more hand-held shots, favouring high contrast, gritty, monochrome images, loaded with noise, technical imperfections, and most importantly, visual interest. I found myself using techniques at the polar opposite to those used in the ongoing quest for ‘tack sharp’. I also found myself having a growing distaste for the technique known as HDR.
My relationship with photography went from extreme frustration to a zen-like state of enlightenment. I looked back through my library of approximately 5000 rejected shots and realised that too quick to dismiss many of them.
I sold off lots expensive camera gear including heavy tripods, large bags, expensive lenses and even my original Canon 400D which had become my spare camera.
Today, my camera bag contains just 3 items.
- Canon EOS-50D
- Sigma 10-20mm f/4-5.6
- Professor Kobre Lightscoop
I wish I had realised 3 years ago that this was all I really needed, but I think I had to go through that painful process in order to reach the conclusion I did. Today, I love working within the limitations and restrictions of these simple tools, producing shots that I know other people will never be able to reproduce with all the money in the world, just because I was in the right time and place with this basic gear. I’ve reached an equilibrium with the eternal compromise.
In addition to the minimal gear in my camera bag, I also have an Nissin Di622 External Flash for occasional use and a Velbon CX Mini Tripod.
The point here, is that my camera equipment now takes up a small shelf in our spare room, instead of requiring the room itself and a separate insurance policy.
With the renewed interest in photography, came a renewed desire to share photos with others. A few days ago I posted 145 photos back onto a previously empty Flickr account. Some are reprocessed images from before, others are previously unseen. I’m sad that I lost so many nice comments from friends, but am looking forward to any new ones people are willing to make.
Contrary to conventional thinking, I’m actually much happier with a lot less stuff. It’s a philosophy I’m starting to apply to other parts of my life too. The old saying of less is more, couldn’t be more appropriate.
If you want to browse or comment on my photos, head on over to my photostream on Flickr.
Posted at 11:00am and tagged with: one column,.
