Keepers And Fillers

After about two weeks of prowling the night time streets, I finally finished my first roll of Fujifilm Natura ISO 1600 film last week and had the it developed that Friday afternoon at Kanota. I spent my Saturday alternating between playing with my daughter and scanning the strips of film. Saturday night I killed myself post-processing until Sunday morning. And guess how many keepers I got? Out of 36 shots, I was only contented with 9. What a terrible yield rate! I reviewed all of my shots from the roll and the first thing I noticed was that I had a lot of repeat shots, it seems I've been very concerned about not getting the correct exposure, which I think stems from my previous experience of busting what could have been a perfect shot save when I scanned that particular frame, it was horribly underexposed, which I attribute to me metering to close to the light source.

I took three shots of this particular scene in three different exposure settings. All of which turned out fine and perfectly processable through Aperture.

Another thing I noticed is how trigger happy I have become even after pledging to a goal of minimum filler shots. I have repeatedly told myself not to press that shutter release unless I am fully satisfied with what I see in the viewfinder but I just was not able to help it, I let the shutter go more times than I wanted to with no feelings felt, just wasteful, useless excuses to hear the M6 breathe.

Well, I have another roll of the ISO 1600 film and last night proved to be a test of self-control to me. I thought I did well, initially, as I was able to capture what I thought was a beautiful feeling with just one shot. However, I left the scene repeatedly convincing myself that my hands were steady when I released the shutter as I took the shot at 1/15 seconds. I wanted to take another shot at 1/30 seconds but my goal of  high keeper rate won over me. I just hope I lost to the right goal. I didn't fare well with my self-imposed sanction going though the rest of the night but I thought I shouldn't be too hard on myself.

Here are the remainder of my so-called keeper shots from my first roll of the ISO 1600 Fujifilm, the photographs are also featured in my Photography Page with titles. I hope you enjoy them.

The Streets At Night

While I, to a certain extent, understand the fuss about the beauty of the streets under the sun, I find that I am more drawn to the romance of things in the night time.

The first time I brought a camera out in the night streets and started to "really" look at things, I was overwhelmed by how "expressive" every single subject becomes under the shade of a lonely street lamp or a misplaced lighting. In a semi-desperate need to shrug-off boredom, I found myself pointing the camera, a Canon S30 compact, in almost every direction. And with each attempt at perfecting a frame, I felt it all over me, the artistry of the night time - made up of the quiet poses of everyday things, the corners empty of humans, and sometimes, humans indulging in silence.

From my first night in the streets. Shimosuwa, Japan 2003. I'm still looking for the high resolution copy, hence, I apologize for the obvious pixelation.
 

I still feel the same until now. The only difference is, I have become more selective, more receptive to a particular feeling which, for the longest time, I've not been able to point a finger at, but I whole-heartedly know is related to a personal prayer that I say whenever I hit the night streets, and is always there, this feeling, according to my senses at least, whenever I decide to press the shutter release button.

Revisiting Nabokov's Lolita

Six years past since I read it and it's still fresh in my mind, this book by Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita - the "love story" about 12-year-old Dolores Haze and 40-year-old Humbert Humbert. Unbelievably inspiring and scandalous, this book got me obsessed with being a writer of stories twisted but well-structured that for the most part of 2005, I found myself walking back home from work trying to plot a story that would have the same effect. I finished nothing, of course, although I was able to cough-out a couple of chapters of a "would-be" love story about a priest and prostitute, and a narrative poem about dancing fireflies, ha ha ha!

The M6 By Feel

The Cheshire Cat from Alice In Wonderland always comes to mind whenever I find myself looking at it's smiling face, my M6 Classic with the 35mm/2.5 Color-Skopar Voigtlander lens. In the streets, I use a small Lowepro sling bag that is just enough for the camera and its tiny lens to fit in snugly, no room for an extra roll of film or much less another lens - which works for me since I only have one lens and a roll of film lasts about a week or two with me. I'm using an Arnulvo hand strap, which I got from a well-known camera shop here in Singapore, Chiif's, to keep the camera safe from my clumsiness.

Taken with an X3, a Nokia X3

My photography is slow for the most part, to say the least, I need to get my hands a little sweaty and the viewfinder a tiny bit fogged-up, from the outside, before I decide to press the shutter release, I am no decisive-moment photographer.

Back to the M6 Classic. I got mine though the buy-and-sell section of ClubSnap, a local all-about-camera website. I posted an ad, a very nice and impressionable guy named Jon responded, we scheduled a viewing, yadda, yadda, yadda, and I got the camera and lens -  actually, the 35mm/2.5 Color-Skopar lens that I'm using now is not the one that I'm referring to here, I sold this one because I wanted to get a 35mm/2 ZM lens, but when I got it, I didn't like it so I sold it and got back another 35mm/2.5 lens.

Back to the M6 Classic, again. After almost 30 years since it was first introduced, there is nothing I could say that has not been said before about the M6, so I will talk about how it feels and how it makes me feel about taking photographs, ha ha ha! The first time I took my M6 out for a walk, I was in dread of causing the slightest damage to it - the one I got was, and still is, in excellent condition. While some of it's colleagues may have the familiar "brassing" and dents and scratches, mine was free of those, save for some paint loss right beneath the film advance lever. I used its original strap and I stuck some gaffer tape right around the areas where the strap lugs would hit the camera. It was past midnight and the street right in front of my block was vacuum-empty, it was just perfect. I had previously caressed the camera as I was sticking the gaffer tapes and as one might expect, I was very much impressed by its aesthetics, and I conceded: "It's a work of art." And on that thought, I wrapped my hands around the camera and I began to thank my God for such a generous gift. I remembered promising to myself some time back that if I ever get one of those Leicas, I'd use it to show people how He feels, to make them feel as He does even for just a moment.

My journey with the M6 began with this photograph:

It came through a prayer that I murmured as I walked with my M6 for the first time, "My Lord, show me how you feel."

The M6 Classic simply feels natural. I have medium-sized hands and the camera fits perfectly in them. It's like chocolate in the mouth when you have it in your hands - I don't know what one would make of that, but that's the best description I can muster, for now. I love how I have to take my eye off of the viewfinder in order to adjust the small shutter speed dial with my thumb and index finger, I could turn the dial with just my index finger, with my eyes still on the viewfinder, but it's a less pleasurable routine than the first. Advancing the film after taking a shot is another routine that I enjoy. I love the purposeful but vein resistance of the film advance lever when I push it outwards with my thumb, the sound is beautiful and the positive reaction of the rewind crank in response to this motion is, well, cute, he he he! The battery cover sits right against my index finger when I'm holding the camera, as I have just now observed. It's funny how some people are put-off by the placement of the cover, as I've read in a forum post, when I didn't even notice it until I came across that forum post, and I didn't care about it even after reading that forum post. You will have to show me a Grade A portfolio if you want me to jump in the boat with you on this one.

The viewfinder inspires. It is big, but more than that, it is able to stir up the feeling that I so awfully need to suck up with every composition in order to have the urge to press the shutter release button. I am guessing it's the tone - which I equate to that subtle drop in brightness that makes things in the viewfinder seem to slow down and become easily observable. Early in the night time, when the streets are still brimming with souls, there are instances when I'm just too shy to bring the camera up to my face to compose and shoot, but whenever I'm able to, every bit of shyness in me just goes away the moment that I see things through the M6's eye. Yes, the view in the viewfinder brings me to some sort of trance, I may be exaggerating here, he he he, but it is that good. However, as a disclaimer, I have to mention that I've not used a significant number of cameras to claim expertise. I used to have a Canon AE-1 Program which, I believe, has quite a wonderful viewfinder but still pails in comparison with that of the M6, in my humble opinion, of course. I've also used a G1 (Contax), a 7sII (Minolta), and an A100 (Sony). As an aside, let me say that I lost interest in these cameras because of the M6 and I have just recently taken them all off of my hands. 

Now, if you take all the words that I've said about how this Leica feels, you'll probably have an idea how the I feel about taking photographs with it. The truth is, each time I hear my M6's shutter make that reassuring whisper upon release, I feel found in this crazy maze of passion, but more importantly, I feel truly blessed.