 Photo by Patrick Konior on Unsplash The difference between photography and art photography is curation. This simple concept has taken me a lifetime to understand. A single, wonderful photograph is worthy of a pause, but without context it is quickly forgotten. The challenge is to put that wonderful photograph into proper context, once this is done then you have art.
It is as if a single, perfectly tuned note is heard. While startling and perhaps even pleasing, it soon is forgotten in the echos of other sounds. So to a single photograph is lost in the countless images we see daily. The art of making it stand out, to force the viewer to really stop and take notice, this is the art of the curator. The problem is that photographers are not curators. We see the beauty in that stand alone image, just as a musician appreciates that one perfect note. Pulling out the wonderful photographs, that the photographer is very proud of, and removing them from the selected set, is what helps strengthen the photos that are left. A good curator, understands the artist, their work and the audience and works to build the theme with selected works. If you want to be a better photographer, it is about becoming a better curator and become a better curator by understanding that it is more about what you pull out than what you leave in. A wonderful photograph can be harmed by another image, just as wonderful but not following a theme. It is all about story telling and a single photograph, in order to tell its story must be viewed in perspective. It must be viewed once the viewer understands the theme that the artist and curator has assembled for them. Good curators are hard to find. Good photographers who are also good curators are nearly impossible to find. But becoming a better curator will make you a better photographer.
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 I have been going through some changes at work, all of which are good things so no problem there. It has however pulled me away from photography. I am used to it, every time I get a new position at work, I spend six months away from photography as I get used to the new position. It is like all my creative energies are going someplace else.
The problem is that the artistic itch is still there, just not the vision to see it through. But occasionally, just occasionally, I trip over an image that just works. A scene so perfect, so balanced and so impactful that it just has to be taken. I pull out the camera I have on me, usually just my trusty iPhone and I grab the shot. Here is one of those images. A window washer in my new office just doing his job. I hear a tap at the window, lift open the blinds and see this man working fast. I wait for him to cover the window in soap, and I wait for him to swing just so, and I capture the image. This is the image that I had imagined. I only took one, because I knew I had it. I did the in-phone conversions to B&W and it was done. Not a darkroom print, nothing planed but just a little scratch to that itch.  Photo by Paul Skorupskas on Unsplash I love gear. I like the feel of it, I like the hunt for it and I like to be able to put my hand into a bag and pull out the perfect tool for the problem I have to solve. I understand that gear does not make the photographer, but I get an enjoyment out of my gear that I do not want to give up for the sake of the "art first" crowd.
But here is a hard truth to swallow....the lens does not matter. Yes I said it. It does not change a thing. Now let me explain...yes the focal length matters a great deal, the aperture can change the feel of a photograph completely but the lens quality does not matter at all...except in one little instance...let me explain. Let's talk image quality. Can the lens impact this? Well sure if you are looking at the lenses made pre-1990. If you were in the 1920's-60's there was a great many crap lenses that would impact in the quality of an image. So photographers learned that they needed to spend some good money on glass in order to get predictable photographs. This lesson was so vital that we adopted it as the truth. And it served us well for years but then the 1990's came and we began to see a shift in photography and in manufacturing. Motorola came up with Six Sigma in 1986 but it began gaining ground in the 90's. So what is Six Sigma? Six Sigma is a data-driven methodology focused on reducing defects and improving quality, has had a significant influence on the manufacturing of photography lenses. Prior to its adoption, lens production often suffered from inconsistencies that affected sharpness, alignment, and durability. With Six Sigma, companies like Canon, Nikon, and Sony introduced rigorous process controls and statistical quality measures that minimized variability during production. This led to a dramatic reduction in defects per million opportunities (DPMO), ensuring that each lens met precise optical and mechanical standards. One of the key improvements driven by Six Sigma was the enhanced consistency in lens elements—particularly in grinding and coating processes. These processes are critical for minimizing aberrations and maximizing image clarity. Six Sigma tools such as DMAIC (Define, Measure, Analyze, Improve, Control) enabled manufacturers to identify root causes of production flaws, from minute deviations in lens curvature to contamination during assembly. As a result, companies were able to maintain tighter tolerances and improve the overall performance of consumer and professional-grade lenses. The methodology also allowed for more efficient manufacturing, leading to quicker development cycles and the ability to introduce high-quality lenses to market faster. In essence, Six Sigma not only elevated the technical quality of photography lenses but also streamlined the processes that delivered them to users worldwide. So what do we see today? Chinese manufacturing has begun proving what Motorola was trying to tell us...given the right manufacturing process, and following a significant sigma approach, you can manufacture quality goods at reasonable prices. So now we see a flood of Chinese made lenses that are frankly brilliant. The quality is top notch and the image quality cannot be distinguished from their high priced German and Japanese counterparts. I am not saying that they have the same character, and I would agree that someone who is used to shooting Leica can tell the difference in character between one lens and another, but in terms of quality, the human eye cannot. So when does the lens selection matter? I did tell you that there was one exception to my position that lens quality does not matter....and it is in survivability. Some cheap lenses will give you a great image but will not survive changes in temperature, high moisture environments or a very bumpy ride. But if the build quality is good enough then the lens quality most certainly will be as well. I have yet to see the modern Chinese lenses lack build quality. Does this mean that everyone who spends thousands of dollars on Leica glass are fools? No. But what it does mean is that you do not need to spend thousands of dollars on Leica glass for the quality of the image. You can get it because you love gear and enjoy the history of the manufacturer and enjoy using it. You do not need a better reason than that. But let's stop saying that we need to spend thousands of dollars to get a quality image. And don't try to do a side by side comparison to pixel peak to prove a point. The fact is that even wide open he difference is minimal and once you stop down there is no difference to speak to. So buy the glass you want to buy, and if you are worried about the quality of images you are taking then I suggest you pick better subject matter. And next time you marvel at the detail that a lens was able to capture, thank Motorola...they had a larger impact on that image quality than any other company in the world.  There are times that we overcomplicate our lives. We climb into our own head and complicate our lives. We set unreachable goals, we believe others have something we do not and finally we convince ourselves that we do not have the right tools. Then, occasionally, we have moments of enlightenment. In photography it finally hits me...it's about the subject and the photographer. Everything else is noise. The only signal worth discussing is the subject and the photographer.
The subject must be interesting...if it is not then why photograph it. The photographer has to make choices and those choices are reflected in the image they take. For example this photographer above, I was on the beach with the family and had an old Pentax film camera that was given to me. I just had one lens and the prism was cracked. The camera was rough but all I need is film and a black box and I can capture an image...so this camera, in its sad state, was still much more than I needed. My son was getting out of the water and he walked over to us under the umbrella. I asked him to pause for a quick picture and he complied. You can see he is tired, you can see he is serious, not the face of a young kid playing in the water. He seems to almost be looking past me. The subject made the picture. I was there, with a box and film. Nothing more. Now this picture, in my mind, is one of the best portraits I have taken. It speaks on multiple levels and just works...thanks to the subject. So simplify your life...find the subject that entertains and the rest will work itself out.  It used to be that the purchase of a new devise was something that filled me with pleasure. Finding out what the new technology brought to the table and how I can incorporate it into my daily life was something I looked forward to. The advantage is that each new iteration was a massive change and always seemed to improve what we had before.
The record player, moving to the cassette was a massive improvement. We could easily carry a full album in our pocket. It was bullet proof, being able to be thrown around in wild abandon while looking for the cassette you wanted to hear. You could play it in your car, on the go and in your house. You could record off the radio and get "free" music. Then things began to change in a different way. The advances were not always positive, they were coming faster and sometimes you had to accept a lesser quality item in order to obtain the better gizmo. For example the CD, sure you could store more on the CD, sure the sound may have been better (I never noticed a difference but ok I will grant that one) but now the CD could get scratched and you could not record music onto it. Times change, technology improvement does not happen uniformly. My most recent example is that I have recently purchased a new Apple Mac mini as my iMac is getting on in years having been purchased back in 2017. The Mac mini is a great little computer and a wonderful price but since it does not come with a monitor, I purchased an inexpensive Samsung. Good reviews, but a basic monitor. My iMac still has its Retina display which is leaps and bounds better than what I have in my inexpensive Samsung. My old 2017 iMac is not supported and slowly software will stop working on it. So I change to a faster computer, but the display is half of what I once had. And now, I need to change out all my hard drive cables to USB C. I am at the award technology adoption point where I have legacy technology that I need to adapt to fit with the new and improved version. This is why I like my old film cameras. They can still be serviced and once they are they operate as good as new. I don't have to worry about getting the right cable or battery. All I need is film and I am set. I still look forward to seeing all the technology out there. I still like playing with new toys...but now I have to consider what I am giving up. I miss my iMac screen, I hate using special cable adapters to plug in my Firewire800 into a USB C. The hard drives are still good, not as fast as the new ones, but they have withstood the test of time. I will miss them when they are gone...but their time is near. So now, the change of one technology item has to change my entire workflow or I need to go out and change all peripherals at the same time, an expensive proposition to be sure. We have gone from the evolution of the record player to a cassette, to the revolution of digital music to the convolution of not ever owning music and only streaming it....if you have internet as the loss of internet now means you do not have music.  Photo by Charanjeet Dhiman on Unsplash I mean that...what does good service mean? At a time when social media is empowering buyers, what is fair for us to expect and what is not? Let me give you the reason behind my question.
I have often purchased items on Ebay. I have had a great deal of success and can honestly say that I have not really had a negative experience. I have also had some average experiences but I have never felt taken advantage of. I know there are risks involved but I am willing to take them. Fast forward to my latest purchase....a wonderful Leica M4 that was CLA, painted and the advance lever replaced with that of a Leica M4. I loved it. Olive green, wonderful condition seemed like a good purchase...a bit expensive but allot of work went into it. The reviews were good so I took the plunge and bought the camera. It arrived FAST. Like in a week it was at my house. I opened the box and there, staring at me, was a wonderful....olive green Leica M4 in perfect condition. I pulled it out and it advanced smoothly, the shutter speeds moved fluidly and the camera was the gem I was expecting to get. Then I pulled out a lens and it would not snap in place. In fact, it would no Leica, Zeiss, Voigtlander or other lenses that I had would latch on. I wrote the seller an email message and set the camera carefully back in the box. A few hours later the seller reached out and explained that he had no idea what had happened as it was working perfectly. He suggested I try a different lens and record the event to send to him. I did so. He and I began looking into it and this is a known issue on a handful of M4 cameras. You need to remove the lens release button, and put in two shims. This lifts the button a bit and allows it to latch on to new lenses. And yes, I tried a 1950's lens and it did latch on...most of the time. The seller mailed to me the shims and a couple of screwdrivers. I began to get to work and it would not work. I was getting fed up as we were now almost a month from the purchase and I could not use the camera. Without the lens latching you do not know if the focusing set up is right. Finally, the seller suggested a different fix, and sent a video of how to do it. I attempted it and it worked perfectly. So a month after the camera arrived, it was working as it should. Now here is the thing...how do I rate the seller? Was it an honest mistake? Yes. Would the camera have worked without the fix....no. Do I pay for a working camera and does this establish my expectations? Yes. I decided to give him a good review. I explained what had happened but must agree that he tried to resolve the issue and sent me the parts and tools to make the fix for free. So I explained the story and gave him a full five stars because I would indeed buy from him again. On his part, he has decided to test each camera with different vintage lenses to avoid this in the future. Good enough for me. So I suppose good service is the lack of error, but once the error occurs good service is defined by how well the seller tries to make it right.  Artists come from diverse backgrounds but we all feed from the same feast of art that has come before us. Leni Riefenstahl—what a name! She stands as a curious, albeit contentious, figure in the annals of film history. Often dubbed Hitler's favorite director, she created some of the most chillingly effective propaganda films of the Nazi regime, including Triumph of the Will and Olympia. It may seem straightforward to dismiss her as a mere purveyor of evil, but hold your horses! This is a woman whose artistic vision deserves a deeper look, particularly for any serious artist grappling with the intersection of art and ideology. Now, don’t get me wrong—Riefenstahl's role in the Nazi regime naturally invites our disgust and condemnation. Yet, it’s precisely this complexity that makes her worthy of contemplation rather than outright dismissal. I'll admit, I recently indulged myself with a short documentary on her life. Picture me, popcorn in hand, watching her deny any accountability for her actions while insisting she was “just doing her job,” much like a 1950s photographer shooting ads for cigarettes (ah, the irony!). Her case underscores the long-standing topic of how collaborators enable regimes to commit unspeakable atrocities. But I’m more intrigued by the role that art plays in this treacherous mix. Riefenstahl's aesthetic has been co-opted in various contexts—from selling perfume to sporting events, rock concerts, and political campaigns. Often, the people borrowing elements of her style might not even realize they’re inadvertently walking in her footsteps. As we dive into our own artistic pursuits, we must confront some pressing questions: Is there such a thing as fascist art? Look at the monuments of the former Soviet Union; a distinct style emerges. The murals from 1930s Italy spring to mind, carrying a certain political flair. But let’s ponder further—is the artistic style influenced by political ideology, or is it merely popular when that ideology takes root? Even scarier, can art actually shape political ideologies?
So, should we display art created by figures like Ziegler and Riefenstahl? Big question! Maybe we could simplify it: Should we view art through a political or historical lens? I’m not suggesting art exists in a vacuum free from political or ideological influence. Renaissance art teems with religious symbolism, and Ancient Greek statues proudly represent their pantheon of deities. The question at hand is more straightforward: once a piece of art is created, should we continue to interpret it through the lens of its political context? Consider this: every artist, regardless of their background, feeds off the moveable feast served up by those who came before. When we wander into museum galleries, we’re absorbing countless influences, whether we’re aware of them or not. Each visual experience shapes our artistic endeavors, guiding our every brush stroke and shutter click. But here’s the existential kicker: can you create art without being influenced by your surroundings? If that influence has a political angle, does that “taint” your work? Do we assign morality to art, much like we’d categorize fruit as “good” or “bad”? Take a look at the collector who proudly owns historical weapons from the Third Reich—does that validate their beliefs? And what about the individual flying a Nazi flag outside their house? Ah, now we’ve entered murky waters, haven’t we? Do we try to erase the works of artists who made questionable choices, lest they contaminate young minds? Shall we hold public bonfires to burn their works—oops, isn't that how we end up echoing the very ideology we wish to obliterate? Can we acknowledge that a person might be talented yet fundamentally flawed? This dilemma is echoed in my adoration for Edward Weston, whose stunning photographs capture my heart yet distract me with thoughts of his questionable family responsibilities. Upon reading his Daybooks, I found my perspective shifting; the man became separate from the artist in a way that almost felt liberating! So, is exposure to any art inherently harmful? Before you decide, allow me to draw a parallel to another passion of mine: wine. Wine appreciation is a journey that deepens with experience, much like our artistic pursuits. But if you continuously sip mediocre wine, you risk dulling your palate, losing the ability to appreciate the finer nuances of a truly excellent vintage. Can a similar dilution happen to an artist influenced by politically motivated work? If our goal is to create compelling art, I argue no. Art is a dynamic, subjective endeavor that should challenge our perspectives and provoke introspection. Sometimes, this art may carry political undertones, potentially influencing societal views. The real risk arises when we attempt to filter or eradicate specific works purely because we disagree with the political backdrop, equating artistic expression with political ideology—and that would diminish both art’s power and its significance in our lives. Instead, let’s embrace all art, comprehending its historical significance and the attempts to manipulate the viewer. Through this understanding, we cultivate empathy in our lives and work, enriching our artistic journeys.
Returning to Leni Riefenstahl, she blazed a trail as the first female producer and director in a male-dominated field, harnessing her relationship with her benefactor to forge her artistic path. She was truly ahead of her time in many ways, yet unfortunately, she found herself kissing the wrong hand along the way. Did her work bolster Hitler’s ambitions? Certainly. Did it help make his ideology more palatable? Absolutely. Should we shun her contributions today? No! Instead, let’s study them critically, grappling with the complex issues they present.
As artists, we should analyze Riefenstahl's work while acknowledging her moral failings. Everything she touched may be tainted, but wouldn’t it be a disservice to ignore the lessons gleaned from both her artistry and her undeniable complicity? Let's engage in constructive discourse rather than simply vilify the past; after all, such contemplation enriches our collective experience and hones our artistic sensitivities for the better.  The newest camera to my collection is the Leica iiif. Now I have a Fed I which is very similar to this camera but I decided I needed a true, vintage Leica, since the M6 is no longer vintage and is now a contemporary camera! So a little on this amazing marvel and why I see it as quirky. Stick around and I will tell you why I decided to buy it...the reason might really surprise you! In the grand kingdom of cameras, the Leica IIIf reigns supreme as a charming relic from 1953—think of it as the dapper gentleman in a black-and-white film who still carries a pocket watch. Sure, he might be out of date, heck maybe even dated...but he has a certain charm that cannot be denied. Let’s take a closer look at this splendid machine, shall we? Technical Specifications (aka The Nerdy Bits):
The Marvelous Advances Over Previous Models:
A Few Drawbacks (Because No Love Story is Perfect):
In Conclusion The Leica IIIf is a delightful blend of vintage charm, advanced mechanics, and a sprinkle of quirks that make it a true treasure in the world of photography. This thing is much smaller than most 35mm film cameras but it does have a bit of bulk. It is so well built that if you get a good version, properly CLA it you will have a great tool for years! I purchased mine via eBay from a seller called Granite_rose_studio by a gentlemen known as Steve. Steve is a Mechanical Engineer who likes to rebuild these cameras. He had completed a CLA and changed out the shutter curtains. This baby works as smooth as silk thanks to him! I am running it through a roll of film and will post the results soon! Why I bought it.... Sometimes photography is about the photograph. Sometimes it is about capturing the moment. But there are times when photography is about the experience. The history. Looking through the viewfinder I wonder of the many eyes that looked through it and what they saw. I wanted a camera dripping with history, one that is not simple to use, but one that you take out because you want to play with it. Like a fidget spinner for photographers!
 Photo by Thought Catalog on Unsplash We are losing the written word and it won't be found in the seat cushions. These days we are all looking to devour more information at a faster rate but this is nothing new. We went from reading books, to magazines and from that to internet pages and then to YouTube and now we are going to Tik Tok or Reels, or YouTube Shorts. The point is that we are looking for a rapid way to assimilate information.
I don't complain, this is a normal part of being human. I do however, wonder what we are giving up? While videos can show us a continuous series of steps on what to do, and a short reel of 2 minutes can focus on the key parts of the process, we are losing the opportunity to understand a wider range of topics. Don't get me wrong, I love some of my YouTube channels, the content creators work so hard to make something meaningful for us to watch. I appreciate their efforts and support them anyway I can. But again, for many of us this is our passion. Do we really want to digest our passion in massive bites? Or do we want to savor each piece, enjoy the additional flavors we can interpret by slowing down. Are we getting hooked on watching other people do what we are passionate about? My kids watch other people playing video games and this baffles me. But then I will watch a one hour YouTube video on some large format photography without missing a beat. Have I learned something? Usually...no. Have I been inspired, sometimes yes. But have I taken out my gear and used it on my own? No. Perhaps it is time to move back to internet blogs, magazines (even if out of print) and perhaps the occasional book? Perhaps we should consume data differently when we are in love? Perhaps we should not be looking for the quick lunch time special? Perhaps we should sit back and enjoy what we are learning. Take our time consuming the data and then go our and pick up our own gear. To this end, I have loaded some film in my old FED-1 this evening, after reading a bit about the old camera on an internet site. I plan to spend the morning in the darkroom but I will pull out this little camera in the afternoon and take a few pictures of the neighborhood. Nothing artistic, nothing to write home about but I will shoot just to shoot. Sure a YouTube video could have told me everything faster, but I enjoyed finding the right site, and going through the post and the comments of other readers. I will go back to YouTube to be sure....just not tomorrow. This is a special end of the year for me. On one hand, I am turning 50 at the end of the year but I am also celebrating 10 years since I picked up film photography again. I first learned on my fathers OM-1 camera and back in 2013 he gifted me his old camera. I put it away and forgot about it until 2014 when I pulled it out, put in a battery and some film and shot my first roll. I still have those negatives and adore some of the photographs that came out of it. I was hooked and never looked back.
I thought that in celebration of this occasion I would write up a simple, straightforward list of lessons I learned in photography. They are in no particular order and I will not bore you with the reasoning behind it. Consider it a grocery list of lessons I learned. Let's keep them down to 10, one for each year of my film photography journey....
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AuthorPatrick...confirmed film & digital photography addict. Archives
January 2025
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