Once upon a time we just adapted to our tools. We didn't expect them to adapt to us. And photos from a bizarre camera and lens combination on a gloomy day.

Once upon a time photographers and writers adapted to the tools on offer rather than begging for custom made equipment designed and produced for small, tender audiences. I am often reminded of this when I pick up my ancient Nikon F camera, with a non-metered prism, put on a 50mm lens from the 1960s and go out to make photographs. On a bright and sunny Texas day is there really any pressing need for a light meter? Between the hours of 10 and 5 I'd say, "not really." Do I need a motor drive in order to capture images? Never have. Not with that ancient Nikon. Besides, adding a 20 frame per second (modern obsessions) motor drive to a camera loaded with a 36 exposure film canister would mean having to change film every two seconds.... And that would get annoying really quickly. Not to mention, quite expensive.

When I start looking at current camera spec sheets I wonder just how infirm modern photographers have become. Needing all the "features" of modern cameras seems in some ways antithetical to the lovely process of actually having to be physically and mentally involved/invested in the process of taking a photograph. Or many photographs. One learns stuff when fully engaged with a camera. One learns nothing about photography but a lot about menus when the fully automated camera takes center stage. 

The interesting thing to me about photography and gear is that in the time that AF, AE and digital everything have become the standard in cameras the level of interesting photography in general hasn't gotten one bit better than where we were in the late days of film. Or earlier. People love to love the work of the late photographer, Elliott Erwitt. I do. And one of the things that I think makes his work interesting on a technical level is that his camera of choice right up till the end was a Leica M series Rangefinder. Sure, he used lots of other cameras over his long career but when my friend Will and I took  Erwitt out to lunch at our favorite Mexican food restaurant in east Austin a few years back he certainly wasn't sporting the latest feature laden digital SLR or mirrorless camera. He was carrying (and using) a Leica M7 rangefinder with a 50mm f2.0 lens. No autofocus. No IBIS. No face detection. Nothing but the time-honored exposure control via aperture and shutter speed dials and the manual focusing of a single focal length, prime lens. 

As a commercial photographer I understand that the new cameras can be used to make image capture easier. More efficient. More foolproof? But I constantly miss the friction of simpler techniques. A friction that requires me to pay attention. To be intimately involved in the process of making photographs. I walked into a client space one day with a modern camera fitted with what might be the world's best standard zoom lens. I set it up on a tripod and rigged up some beautiful, continuous lighting for a series of environmental portraits. It quickly became obvious to me that once the camera was set and the scene well lit the camera functioned just like a fully manual, mechanical camera from the film age. Yes, it provided eye detect AF. But you know what? I learned to focus on subject's eyes when looking at the upside down and reversed, dark image on a 4x5 view camera while huddled under a black cloth. Manually focusing on a subject's eyes through a bright finder under bright lights is something that should be a piece of cake for anyone except people with critical ocular deterioration. And, at least for me, the challenge of doing things with total immersion is much more fun than abdicating responsibilities to a camera. 

After taking portraits with the state of the art, modern camera, and breathtakingly good glass of its matching zoom lens for the portrait client I decided to make the next encounter more exciting. More challenging. Or is it just more fun? I returned the next day with a different set of tools. A Sigma fp with no auxiliary finder. A Nikon 105mm f2.5 Ais lens which is fully mechanical from start to finish. I set the camera to manual exposure and took the same kind of photos as the day before. It was more fun. It was more challenging. I had to change batteries much more often. Compose on the rear screen. Check focus on the rear screen.  But the friction of the process was not only fun for me but also for the clients who sensed that we were doing something different and quirky. Relying on skill over automation. And that felt much more authentic.

I mentioned writers because I just read Michael Johnston's long essay on his "need" for absolutely specialized keyboards as a result of his life long refusal to learn touch typing. I immediately thought of all the writers I loved who carried around portable, manual typewriters with atrocious keyboards (and great keyboards) who blazed through reams of paper without a peep of complaint. My Olivetti still works. Even though it was used intensely and used roughly. Thousands of sheet of beautiful white, bond paper flowed through that fully mechanical machine. Yes, I often had to rush out and buy a new ribbon when I was in the middle of typing a thesis with a tight deadline, but the work got done. And, since I learned the correct way to type, surrounded by beautiful young woman in a high school class, I am still able to type somewhere north of eighty words a minute even though I can certainly not think that fast. 

It makes producing a blog short work. Or, rather, writing quickly gives me more time to go out and shoot photographs with which to decorate the writing.

I just had a sad thought. That if Olivettis and Royals, and even lowly Smith Corona typewriters were still in wide use today some in the sensitive cohort would insist on new accessories to silence that staccato (or largo) tapping of the keys and the sound of metal letters on steel wands striking the surface of paper with authority. And how that would diminish the process! Maybe the lack of actual, physical keystrokes is in some small part to blame for the decline in some areas of good literature today.

The point is that blaming the tools or pining for labor saving devices may be one of the things that's blunting the overall quality of the creative work we'd like to do. Just sayin".  I found it interesting to learn in the 39 comments appended to MJ's column about keyboards that so many people have actual prejudices about using various keyboards. I guess I should have been paying attention all along but I've rarely given any thought to the quality or usability of any of the keyboards I've worked with. And I type a lot. A LOT. 

I'm probably an outlier about all of this. I should try an "ergonomic" keyboard and see if it makes my writing better and smarter; or at least faster. I should buy a Sony A9 and see if portraits really look better when taken at 20 frames per second. I should ditch that charming 105mm f2.5 Nikon lens and see if a much newer and more modern lens makes my portrait subjects look more creative, more interesting, and more engaging. I'm going to bet the answer is "no." 

Yesterday I went for a walk after a long day of procrastinating and online camera shopping. Oh, I did do a bunch of retouching on a client project and I read through a bid to have the 800 square feet of my living room floor demolished, removed and replaced with a new hardwood floor. (That's a price tag that would give even a seasoned Leica buyer pause...). But at some point you just have to stand up and move around. 

I grabbed a camera I haven't used lately and put a zany lens on it. The camera was a Leica CL, unadorned by many buttons and even fewer button markings. The lens was the manual focusing, non-electronically connected, Voigtlander 40mm f1.4 Nokton. I walked around in the gloom and mostly thought about how much photography has changed and how much of the joy of it has been diminished by its homogenization on every level, from the art being shared to the design intention of current cameras. But I came to the conclusion that, if it's still enjoyable to me on a personal level then that's all I can ask for. Sobering thoughts. 

Valentines Day is coming up fast. Time to pick up those diamond tiaras and 

Bentley Flying Spurs for your loved one. Or maybe a box of candy and a bouquet of

flowers from the stand in the grocery store.

Photographer wishing we could have digital cameras that didn't need batteries...

This is not an ATM I'd trust with my credit card....

My actor friend, Billy Brooks (left) and a friend, downtown by Esther's Follies Theater.

Nasty little bokeh balls from that 40mm lens...

Downtown. It was 5 o'clock. Everyone went home.