Camera whoreder
““. the only thing that I tolerate, that I like, that is familiar to me, when I am photographed, is the sound of the camera. For me, the Photographer’s organ is not his eye (which terrifies me) but his finger: what is linked to the trigger of the lens, to the metallic shifting of the plates (when the camera still has such things). I love these mechanical sounds in an almost voluptuous way, as if, in the Photograph, they were the very thing - and the only thing - to which my desire clings, their abrupt click breaking through the mortiferous layer of the Pose.””
I love my cameras, but I wouldn’t call myself a hoarder. There’s just something about the feel of a comfortable grip, the tension of the film advancing and the satisfying click of the shutter release that gets me every time. Is it not why we fell in love with photography to begin with? The uncontrolled accumulation of this vintage collection felt like a calling, a sign to start a photo series. The Nikon F3, Polaroid SX-70, Sinar P2/3, a bunch of point and shoots and so on—it’s looking like my shoe closet. Truth be told, I always have something sitting in both my B&H and Neiman Marcus shopping carts, but the former is the one that always goes to check out. It’s looking like this will be an ongoing series, perhaps until I stop buying cameras. (A few of these shots can be found in the Accessories gallery.)
I know I should have chosen a brand and format from the beginning, it would have allowed for a stronger commitment to my style as a photographer. But I knew very little technically at the beginning of my journey, and for me, that has been so much more about my life and less about the gear. The camera is very much a means to an end for me and these days, I like to focus more on what I want to say.