What Photography Has Taught Me About Life

Every hobby I take up offers life lessons. Photography has taught me so much. Here is a single point. I have to make choices. They involve pros and cons, trade-offs, and you cannot have it all. That’s it. Yet we are enamored of the notion that if we are only clever enough we can make anything “win-win,” in that facile phrase. The conceit compromises our ability to make decisions.

I came back to photography after a considerable absence. As a five year-old, I learned to make a pinhole camera and develop film. I was in a "talented and gifted” program, but it turns out no matter how precocious you are, a kid that age probably should not be messing around in a darkroom — too hyperactive. Twenty years later, I took a college level class in black and white. It was that last moment before the digital revolution. I found myself “burning” and “dodging” images that we enlarged and printed — a bit less fidgety.

Now, I am shooting with a digital device. It is a Lumix, styled as a faux rangefinder. It belongs to the Micro Four Thirds (MFT) category, referring to the mirrorless design and the sensor size.

If you delve into photography, you will see quite a controversy over the MFT standard. Olympus and Panasonic adopted it, along with various third-party lens makers. Since premium medium-format models are coming on the market mirrorless, it’s probably settled that the single-lens reflex eventually will give way. But the “cropped” (meaning smaller, as the adjective “micro” would indicate) sensor riles up folks.

The reason it inspires robust conversation is its inherent limit. No matter how sophisticated the technology, including features such as image stabilization, the exact same shot taken with a MFT camera, using comparable lenses, will be at least slightly lower quality than that taken with a “full frame” competitor. The piece of the camera making the visual record, the sensor, is “cropped,” “micro” — the surface is simply smaller. You can mount a lens for a full frame camera onto an MFT camera, using an adapter, but you cannot do the opposite, because of the flange distance and the inability of the lens to project a picture that will cover the sensor. The physics, or, if you prefer, the math, won’t work.

So you might wonder why I opt for the MFT camera. I intend to stay with it. In part, I have done what every other photographer does that makes them loathe to switch, which is invest in an array of lenses. 

My rationale is the exact “flip side” of the problem. There is a giant benefit associated with what appears to be a significant cost: everything is smaller. The camera body, even the fanciest lenses, are much shorter and lighter and considerably cheaper. I can buy more, and I can carry it at all times. As they say, the best camera is the one you have with you. I am not about to lug around a professional-grade DSLR even with a passion for this pastime. (For those who have knowledge exceeding mine, you know that this is why critics are right about the mirrorless full-frame cameras; they are the same size or even larger than their single-lens reflex peers, if not in the body then in the lens. The mirrorless aspect cannot offset what full-frame demands.)

In any event, just about everybody in developed societies has a camera on them constantly, inside their smartphone. As they progress, the competition compels camera manufacturers to improve further — though the point-and-shoot segment of the market is threatened, and the low-end has been effectively overtaken. The “good enough” movement (in the fancy jargon, “to satisfice,” a blend of “satisfy” and “suffice”) emphasizes convenience. For most of us, that is an overwhelming desire even if not expressed.

My conclusion is not a profound insight. It used to be obvious. I can select between the plus of portability with its minus of fewer pixels, or the alternative of increased bulk and higher resolution. Other people are not bound by my priorities. I respect that. If I were in a studio and had the budget, I wouldn't hesitate to purchase something else.

Yet thanks to the effective marketing techniques of consumer capitalism, and the hyper acceleration of change, we prefer to believe everything is possible and immediately. Perhaps it is positive in a sense that we have forgotten the constraints of reality, and the reality of constraints, but when we bump up against them we seem to be at a loss. We are like a child who is frustrated, embittered, that they cannot do anything they want, except we are adults who should know better.

As I turn toward portraits, I realize further how we do not want what we might suppose we want. Truth loses to beauty in most match-ups. 

I started off with deliberately clinical close-ups of people, showing every blemish on their face. I had no intent to insult. I just wished to be accurate.

That style did not last long, because of the animated protests of my subjects who did not recognize themselves in my portrayals. I have been prevailed upon to focus differently, retouching, smoothing out wrinkles. Everyone is happier with the result.

As I confront challenges, I bear in mind what photography has taught me. I have to make choices. We all do.

Currently using: Lumix GX8; Contax G2; Nikon 35Ti