I sold my Canon EOS 6D MKII and the lenses. It was a difficult and emotional decision. I have travelled with the camera and made memories. It is an excellent camera, a very capable one. Ready for all circumstances. Except I only shoot in 35mm and 50mm focal lengths. This made the camera an overkill. Too bulky.
I often left it at the hotel and carried on with my iPhone or X100T. I hate to admit that I was wrong when I upgraded from the 500D; DSLR is becoming obsolete. The advent of mirrorless full frame digital cameras made sure of it. I held on to the 6D because of its low light performance and fast auto-focus. But physical size does matter, not just technological performance.
Leaving the 6D unused is a waste of a great camera. Somewhere there is someone who can benefit from owning and using it. I had a good run with the EOS system. It is the system I learned photography seriously with.
My dry box looks so empty. But when you let go, you do not just make physical space. You are making room for changes in your life. Hopefully, for the better.
The EOS system made me a proper photographer. It is by Canon I know my aperture, shutter speed, focal lengths, compositions and bokeh. Wielding a DSLR makes me look like a photographer—despite I don’t have fancy hats and scarfs.
Now I am at the stage where I don’t want to look like a photographer. Just an individual living or travelling, casually. Trying to see places and people; to be interested and pay attention.
When a photographer changes a camera system, he changes his religion. Adopting the Leica M-system is a great leap of faith. No one needs a luxury camera. How do one justify the stripping down of features and the increase of price? By measuring and re-evaluating what really matters. Do you ever use or even touch camera settings other than dialling up to ‘P’, ‘Av’, ‘Tv’, review playback, and white-balance? How often do you use the video recording feature?
The M-system reduces everything to basic necessities. Drawing with light is the art of seeing. You are not merely documenting. You are sketching your perceptions, reflecting your views to the world.
The system’s architecture of choice makes the photographer assume a correct posture in photographing; to be intentional in the exposure triad—the holy trinity of photography: aperture width, shutter speed, focus and composition. This is not friction, this is traction.
The small size makes the rangefinder inconspicuous. The shutter clicks are discreet. The photographer can easily carry it anywhere, the subjects can see his face.
Purist, minimalist. Unobtrusive.
I can argue about the engineering and built quality. The M cameras are made of brass and iron. It can withstand extreme environments and weather. From the arctic tundra to deserts, warzones and ballrooms.
The vanity factor is also an appeal. The pride of owning a luxury item without being loud. The “look-at-me-but-don’t-look-at-me” brag. In this social media era, where “likes” are validation to good photography, Leica is a reminder of what matters the most in photography. When I am photographing with the M-system, I can let go of the idea of getting “likes”. I have owned a Leica, the most premium camera system for small format. I do not need the opinion of the masses.
Leica’s price point forced me to be more serious in my photographic endeavours. Now I have spent significant money on tools. I need to improve my skills. I read more books, I took courses and workshops. I got to know more about Henri Cartier-Bresson and, most importantly, the Tao of Photography. I got the validation I needed: that you do not need to be a commercial photographer to call yourself a photographer. I may be an amateur, but I am no dilettante.
I have come to the realisation that photography, as with writing, is my self-expression. I ceased to see photography and writing as separate. The great photographers are readers, first and foremost. They are capable of expressing themselves through words, spoken and written. Cartier-Bresson was a writer and a painter. The only way to train your observations is to read great books and to immerse yourself in art.
HCB embodied photography as the art of seeing. “Taking photographs is a way to understand and a way to live more intensely.”
A photographer is also a witness. We have our biases. We tend to see what we want to see. To be partisan in the event we witnessed. To give narratives—testimonials—according to our prejudice. An image, a photograph, is a representation of reality which can be worth a thousand words. It can be manipulated or used for manipulations; the real event captured can be contextually different than what is presented to the viewers. Consequently, there is an ethical aspect of photography. A reliable witness, despite their biases, must strive to tell the truth.
Yes, truth can be subjective and debatable, but witnesses shall not deliver false testimonials intended to mislead or misrepresent. Even when one practises salon photography, the sculptor-kind photographer expresses his surreal art by making photographers akin to fiction. He is trying to tell the truth by lies. This is different from propaganda, in which one twists the truth to tell lies.
I look forward to travelling with my new camera system. It is when you shoot you are practising photography. I am most inspired to make pictures whenever I travel. I have new thoughts, stimulated by new environments and novel subjects. I am escaping, no—wandering—beyond the banality of everyday life.
In the words of Ratna Mohini, “Yes, it is good to travel the world, but above all the world has to travel in us.”
