My Photography Equipment My first experience with real photography was in high school, when I joined Yearbook as a Photographer. The three photographers used top-of-the-line Minolta cameras, which quickly lead me to becoming a Minolta fan. My mom taught the Yearbook class, so when I became a Yearbook Photographer, I gained 24/7 access to the darkroom. I enjoyed developing my own film more than any of the other photographers (my sister Lissa was Head Photographer, which lead to some fun rivalries). I frequently enjoyed going to the darkroom on weekends when there wasn't another soul in the building, and I became entranced in the serenity. My junior year of high school, I started my first company. Within a year, we had a decent revenue stream, large offices, etc. I had the company purchase a Kodak DC260 digital camera. The camera worked great for nearly five years but came to an end just as it was becoming rather outdated. After I graduated high school, I was forced to buy my own still camera. I bought an old manual Minolta SRT-101 camera, which taught me the joys of manual photography. When I began taking classes at the local community college, I was sure to take Photography. The lab was even more impressive than the high schools (as right it should), with three rooms and a triple-exit rotating darkroom door between them. Although I began in the larger room which housed a dozen projecters and central chemical island where first years work, the instructor moved me into the second year course and thus the advanced darkroom. Although the advanced darkroom had a color workstation, we never used it. Instead, we enjoyed the precision of digital projection timers, medium and large format projectors, and other perks. On new years day of the year 2000, I moved to Silicon Valley. Unfortunately, the SRT-101 was starting to show some major wear, including problems with shutter timings. Instead of taking it in for repair, which I should have done as well, I used my new found salary to buy a new fully automatic Minolta Maxxum XTsi. Most of my photos in 2000 and beyond are with this camera... at least until I have a professional grade digital camera. I've been quite pleased with the XTsi, though recently I've been longing for more. More in less; I want to go back to manual, but not just any manual. I've always loved shallow depth of field, something medium format cameras achieve even better than 35mm cameras. Additionally; Yearbook gave me the power to take pictures of anybody, anytime. Without that shield of power, I find myself being quite shy to take photos; it feels voyeuristic when you don't have the press as your motive. Thirty-five millimeter cameras now feel like an instrument of the press, not an instrument of artistic expression. Waist-level viewfinders that many medium format cameras come with on the other hand, make me feel comfortable once again; they empower me as an artist. The problem? Medium format cameras often cost a couple grand (for body and lens) and I just don't have that as a student. One of my classmates found a medium format camera in their grandparent's attic; I'm beyond jealous. In the meantime, I've found a new Large Format "View Camera" to occupy my artistic interests. Large format, like medium format, offers an increased level of clarity and artistic license. While medium format can still be used for live action or spontaneous photography, large format requires a good deal of shot preparation. This comes with some extra benefits. One of two major benefits of using a large format view camera is the ability to change the focal plane and angle of the film plate. You may notice that the plate which holds the lens, is connected to the back of the camera (aka the film plate, where you also look in order to compose the shot) by means of a flexible accordion-like square tube. The practical reason for this is to allow you to focus, as the lens must move a greater amount in order to project a clear image on the large film plate; focus near by and the lens may be only two inches from the plate, focus on the horizon and it may well be a foot from the plate... doing this without a flexible body would be rather difficult and require extremely expensive cinema-grade optics. A rather useful benefit of this is changing the angle of the film plate in order to distort the photo. Why would you want to distort the photo? Well, if you take a picture of a tall building with a regular camera, it seems to squish up at the top (you'll see it in any regular photo), giving you perspective. By adjusting the angle of the film plate though, you cause it to expose with the building being perfectly rectangle (or whatever the actual shape is when looking straight on). You can also play tricks with the focal plane as well. A fun tidbit; you can't see through a view camera when there's film in it. Any time you see a photographer looking through a view camera, whether they have a blanket over them like in this photo or not, they cannot take a photo. This is often portrayed incorrectly in movies. Sum of All Fears for instance, has the new Russian president being photographed with a view camera when we get to not only look through the camera (and correctly see him upside down) but hear and see the shutter click. Of course, since we were seeing the image, no film could have been exposed. Regardless, the photographer then pulls out a film cartridge from where we were looking. Odd, since the cartridges are rather solid. I want to get back to developing my own film and processing my own prints, it's a large part of the romantic qualities of photography. One day when I build a house I'll have a dark room built into it, luckily Karen would enjoy this as well. I'd like to replace my 35mm units with digital, while moving my traditional film work into entirely medium and large formats.