Less than two weeks ago, I browsed the Internet and paid a visit at a dealer’s web site. I shouldn’t have done that – they had sale on Canon cameras and the prices were indeed competitive. Two minutes later I was on my way out through the front door and an hour later on my way home again with a brand new camera.
I have spent some time exploring the camera now and must say that I’m very content so far. It feels very exact and “I came home with what I photographed as I felt and saw it”. I’m not saying that my old camera was bad, but I like this one better. I even dared to shoot a session with a model a couple of days ago – my usual approach to new things is that it takes time to learn and get used to all the new features, but I felt safe with this camera.
Taking a picture like the one above was possible with the old camera too, but it was a piece of cake with the new one. Besides, I think I have a more relaxed attitude towards digital photography now. I was touched by Sune Jonsson’s finger a couple of weeks ago.
The Swedish photographer Sune Jonsson (1930-2009) spent most of his life in the north of Sweden. He made a couple of interesting photo trips abroad, but most of his photography was documentary and showed life in the north from the 50’s and onwards. He was granted the Hasselblad Award in 1993.
Anyhow, I sat one evening postprocessing an image and never felt content with it; for every correction I made, two faults seemed to appear and finally the computer ran really slow because of all the changes and corrections I had made. I wasn’t in a very good mood when I decided to stop and just leave it to be finished in an infinite future. The most constructive thing I could think of was to read a book and I happened to pick Sune Jonsson’s “And time becomes a wondrous thing” (Swedish title: “Och tiden blir ett förunderligt ting”) and as I looked at his photos, my eye suddenly caught a visible correction at one of the printed photos. It was made in the darkroom when he made the print from the negative.
This confused me a bit, because Sune Jonsson was known for being among them who paid a lot of attention to the work in the darkroom. On the other hand, it was also clear to me that this was probably only visible to people who knew a little about the processes in a darkroom and – most important – there print worked well and expressed what he wanted to share with us, so why bother?
I sat down behind the computer the following day and began postprocessing that d****d image again, but simply ignored a pair of “imperfections” and found that the image worked. Lesson learned: Absolute perfection is probably not what I should aim at. To listen to and take advice from others is a good thing because one will pick up and learn new things, but here are occasions when one has to follow the inner voice too. After this lesson, I feel I have a more relaxed attitude towards all the possibilities of today’s photography.