Insightful and very important question. I wrote about this several articles. I thought I would share one of them here.
Shooting with Medium Format: Silence of Seeing
“The camera doesn’t matter” is one of the most widely accepted dictums in the photographic industry. In its core meaning it holds its ground but when taken too seriously it could jeopardise an honest conversation about the state of seeing. In my case, the camera has always influenced my photography in the most unexpected ways. Over the years I have described the way the X100-line steers me toward creative photography. A similar phenomenon has occurred since I started working with medium format, but this time creativity and vigour were replaced by silence and articulation. It was an unexpected change which I didn’t see coming but welcomed at this stage of my personal and photographic life. Silence is what I desire.
It needs to be said: I am well aware that I am a contemplative and introspective photographer. Almost monthly I take upon myself the task of looking deeply into my imagery, my photographic state of seeing, and collating it with my personal and professional growth. I pay special attention to my emotional state, which over the years has played an important role in the way I see the world.
For years I have been a “loud” photographer. I strolled around the city or drove along the forgotten roads of North America bursting with enthusiasm, taking imagery and capturing the world in strong visual notes. My style was a loud, rich beat with strong blacks and whites, unconventional compositions and strong visual flavour. I would see something on the side of the road, grab my X100F or X-Pro2 and jump out of the car like a kid who had just noticed an ice cream stand on a hot day. Then a burst of shooting, experimentation, crawling, climbing and other energetic and youthful activities followed, sometimes to the horror of my wife watching from a distance. From this one observation I could produce a plethora of photos, which of course I would reduce to one or two images during my usual review (or rather purge) of my work.
Then, a few years ago, I started shooting medium format. I’ve explained the reasons in numerous articles. One of the most important lessons I had to learn when working with medium format was about the techniques of shooting. I quickly realized that my bellicose attitude when shooting was no longer working. I had too many blurred and technically defective imagery; my laissez-faire shooting technique no longer worked with my newly acquired gear. I was disappointed. For about four months I questioned the idea of using a medium format camera for my photography, but despite this initial dissatisfaction, I continued. I knew I had to rethink my personal shooting methods.
I had to start with the most trivial activity—how to hold a camera properly. It was no longer a Cirque du Soleil affair but rather, let’s play chess in the park. Will I be able to checkmate? This is where I started developing “shot discipline”. The objective was to learn shooting techniques in order to extract the best image qualities of medium format. The most logical way to start was to learn how to hold a camera against your body when not shooting on a tripod. It was a massive change for me as a photographer. I went from controlling my breath to holding the camera firmly against my head/eye and using nearby objects to stabilize my entire body. Then I had to make sure I used a proper focusing technique with time-eliminating auto-focus in some cases and relying on manual. Of course, in an ideal situation I would shoot from a tripod, persona-non-gratia in my previous life.
It was a massive change in the way I saw and crafted imagery. However, after a few months different mechanisms of shooting emerged. When I saw something on the side of the road, I would stop the car and look carefully. There was no jumping out, no excitement or eagerness to press the shutter button. It was a slow and deliberate evaluation of the scene including the key question: why? Why would I take this image? Is it part of the project? Am I going to print it? Have I done anything similar before? I sat quietly and looked. Every scene became a feast of seeing and only very few scenes warranted reaching for my camera. The camera became the final element in a long and deliberate chain of creation. How strange, I thought.
In time, I started enjoying this different way of working. The careful observation and undisturbed interaction with my subject allowed me to calm down and tune in to my surroundings, something I had struggled with before. I started enjoying silence. In this new state of mind, I noticed that I passed on so many flashy and attractive scenes, strangely without regret or envy. There was no longer any internal argument with “I should have taken this image.” If there was doubt, there was no shooting; just being present was enough.
Furthermore, this calmness prompted by my new way of shooting has propelled me to new projects. I knew right away that they were not going to be as popular as rich and golden-light-bathed imagery from my street excursions or travels. I accepted this. It was time to focus on the mundane, boring or even plain. I felt that I had bought a new puzzle with a very different set of pieces and now I had to put it together slowly and methodically. And I am not going to mix it up right after completing. Not at all. I will let it last until the next set, whenever it comes.
And this silence of seeing. It’s an unexpected arrival in my photographic life and, I guess, to some extent, personal life. Maybe this quietude is a direct result of my personal struggles and weariness with loud and glitzy imagery. I don’t really know, and I don’t need to know.
