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| My first two cameras, the Pentacon- F new in 1958, the Pentax S-3 used in 1962 |
For most of us, our memories (unless we were blind from birth or became so later in life) are based in people we have met and seen. The memories in our mind are visual. There are also sounds and scent associated with them.
As a photographer I must add that my memories may be more intense when I look at my framed photographs of family and friends or delve into my photo files.
But in the last few days, because I have noticed that many of my peers are selling their expensive Leicas and Hasselblads on social media, my memories include what I saw and felt when I looked through the viewfinder of my cameras beginning with my first camera, a Pentacon-F that I bought in 1958.
There were
decisions of deciding to shoot vertical or horizontal. There were decisions of
using lights. There are memories of telling my subjects to wait as I reloaded
my camera. There are memories when I knew I had my shot and that I did not need to proceed to take more.
But there
is more. Those images in my head began with a person whose face and body
travelled into my camera and exposed the film.That image was (not yet
processed) was latent. Until the film and images were process in my darkroom were my memories of the person latent, too?
I marvel at that journey, from person through the lens of my camera as an inverted image of light.
Those cameras being sold all seem to be in mint condition. All my cameras have been around the block. They look the part of having been used and used.
Every camera I own, not matter how old, works beautifully. Picking any of them up instantly brings to mind memorable portrait sessions.
To me they represent multiple, Arthurian Swords Excalibur. With them in my hand, I could not fail; and fail I rarely did.
While my cameras are metal objects I see in them some humanity. They are a depository of human feelings, mine and those of my subjects. Would selling any of them be a travesty? I believe so.
This is why I will die with all my cameras in my oficina neatly stored and my daughters will have to decide for me (I cannot) what to do with them.
