Keep It Simple

We were in Monte Cristi in the Dominican Republic for my sister’s wedding. It is the town where my father was born and where he built a family home that he would return to each year. It was while he was vacationing there that he passed away. He was buried in the town that he loved so much. On this trip, I was glad to return under happier circumstances.

Because the house was occupied with other family members, we booked a room in a small modest hotel by the beach. The door to the balcony opened up to the bay with its clear blue water and view of El Moro, the small island that is just a short boat ride away. We awakened to the sound of the waves lapping against the shore and children chasing each other in the sand.

We walked down to the patio where we ordered breakfast: fried eggs, mangu (mashed plantain) with sautéed red onions, longaniza (Dominican sausage), and coffee. I rarely get to eat this way back home. Unlike in New York and Miami, there is no centralized Dominican community in Los Angeles, and there certainly is not a Dominican restaurant to be had. So each meal in Monte Cristi was special, a taste of home and a reminder of my youth.

As we waited for our food to arrive, I spotted a hotel worker cleaning out the pool filled with water that was about calf-high. I noticed how the morning sunlight was cut off by the roofline of the hotel and wondered whether I might find a photograph there.

I excused myself from the table, grabbed my Fujifilm x100s, and made my way poolside. It was there that I realized the potential of the scene. The transition between light and shadow created a pleasing graphic, and the blues and greens of the steps, water, and the man’s outfit played wonderfully against each other. But it was his bright-red hat that provided the gesture that really set this moment off.

I stood near the top of the steps that led into the pool, wanting to include their descending pattern in my frame. I composed the scene to include the edges of the pool at the top and bottom of the frame, sandwiching the man in between. I made images as he dutifully scrubbed the bottom of the pool. His body and arms rocked back and forth in a rhythmic fashion as he slowly navigated through the water. I followed him with my camera, waiting for him to move into the right position and provide the right body language to complete the photograph.

The man moved out of the shadow and into the sunlight, and the color of his clothes and hat came to life. I timed the release of shutter for when he pushed the scrubber forward, pulling the white-tipped handle out of the shadow into the light.

When I returned to my table, my breakfast awaited me. I bit into its deliciousness that seemed all the better because of the photograph I had just made.

Have Your Camera Ready

That moment by the pool was made easier by having a camera at the ready. As much as I enjoy my smartphone, I prefer using a “real” camera when I’m making photographs, especially one as small and compact as my x100 series camera. Its fixed 23mm lens (35mm equivalent) eliminates concerns of what lens or focal to use in creating a photograph. That is all I have, and I just have to make it work.

You have likely heard the phrase, “the best camera is the one that you have with you,” and there is great truth to that. Though I have my preference, it is my hope that you find a camera that makes it practical for you to always have a camera by your side. Though you may desire or already own an assortment of lenses, I recommend keeping your everyday kit as simple as possible. You want to make it something you always carry with you and that is neither intrusive nor a burden.

In the end, you want to have a camera that allows you to practice and develop your process of seeing on a regular and consistent basis.

A Simple Wedding

When my sister told me she was getting married in our dad’s hometown, I knew I would be the official photographer. I rarely photograph weddings, much preferring to be a guest than the photographer. However, there was no way I would deny my sister’s request to document her and her husband’s special day.

As our travel day approached, I deliberated back and forth about what equipment to take. Though I primarily shoot with my x100s, I still owned a DSLR kit complete with an arsenal of fixed focal length and zoom lenses—a heavy bit of kit stowed tightly in a backpack.

I thought of all the shots I might capture and how I would need this and that lens, flash, battery grip, extra batteries, laptop, etc. However, when I picked up the bag, I was reminded of how heavy it was to carry. It was especially onerous walking through airports, where the weight of it all made the travel itself all the more exhausting. I knew from my assignment work that having all this gear would make the job that much more demanding. Putting down and picking up the bag throughout the day, moving gear in and out of it, was an additional task that I had to concern myself with as I made photographs.

Then I thought about how this was my sister’s wedding and I wanted to be able to enjoy it, too. If I took all this equipment with me, I would be working, and working hard. I would be more focused on getting photographs than enjoying the wonderful memories that were being created. I did not want to travel all that distance to treat my sister’s wedding as another job.

So I left the DSLR kit at home and took only my x100s with me. I had relied on that camera as my one piece of kit when vacationing, and I knew that it was more than capable of producing wonderful imagery. It was small and compact; it would free me of the burden of weight; and it would allow me to enjoy moments as a participant and not just a documentarian.

All the images that I produced of their wedding at the justice of the peace and at the reception afterward where made with the one camera. I did not miss leaving all the other equipment behind. Along with making photographs, I ate, drank, and danced, and had a wonderful time. I swapped my hat between photographer and brother-of-the-bride seamlessly, all the while using my skills of seeing to capture the moments I knew would be important to my sister and my new brother-in-law.

A Simpler Approach

I do not believe that every photographer should pare down to a single camera and lens. Each photographer has to determine exactly what type and what amount of gear they require to make their photographs. The needs of a wedding photographer or a nature photographer are completely different than those of a photographer who practices street or macro photography.

However, I have often succumbed to G.A.S. (gear acquisition syndrome), as have many other photographers. We have accumulated thousands of dollars of photographic equipment and software that did not result in a significant improvement in the quality of our photographs. As I have matured as a photographer, I have discovered that it is often limitations that serve to inspire me and propel me forward, rather than an abundance of the latest photographic innovations.

This began for me when I took a trip to New Orleans. I arrived there with my standard pack—a DSLR with five lenses, including two f/2.8 zoom lenses. After only two days, I became fatigued carrying that equipment all over the Big Easy. Not only was it heavy, but I was often focused on the security of my bag when I set it down to make photographs or eat. It got old very quickly.

I had just purchased my first smartphone and I made the conscious choice to leave my gear back at the hotel and make photographs with just my phone. It was incredibly liberating. I was no longer concerned with the weight and the bulk of a photo backpack, and I was free to be impulsive and spontaneous with my image-making. I found myself taking more risks and playing in a way that I was not accustomed to with my DSLR.

The small form factor of the camera phone gave me the freedom to move significantly closer to my subjects, as well as position the camera phone at distances and angles that would not have been feasible with a bulky DSLR. The resulting images were significantly different and more inventive than the photographs I had been making up to that point. I discovered a spontaneity that was lacking in much of my work until then.

After that I invested in my first mirrorless camera and it soon became my everyday camera, making it all the easier to always have a camera with me. The mirrorless camera and my smartphone made it possible for me to photograph anytime and anywhere.

Though I still owned my DSLR kit, I relied on it less for my day-to-day shooting. And when I did use it, I found myself relying less on my selection of lenses to do the work. I paired down my lens choices for an assignment to a 35mm and 85mm lens and I was surprised at how much I was able to produce with just those two fast primes. I did not miss using the 70–200mm, which I rarely used anyway.

By limiting the amount of equipment I used, especially with respect to my lens choice, I became intimately familiar with how the world looked through a 35mm. Over time, I saw how a subject or scene would be rendered with a single focal length, even without bringing the camera to my eye. As I produced countless photographs, I became more attuned to how a scene would look in my frame, and it informed how close or how far I would need to be in order to capture the image I saw in my mind’s eye.

My familiarity with a single focal length and not having the option to dig into my bag for another lens eliminated a big distraction. I needed to make the image work with the lens that I had with me. I would not miss a moment trying to find the right lens or zooming my lens back and forth trying to find the sweet spot.

Though I still relied on my zoom lenses for assignment work because of the versatility that they provide, I found myself relying more on fixed focal length lenses. I had trained myself to see the world from those specific fields of view.

More choices do not equate to better photographs for me. It is actually working within limitations that provides the greatest degree of creativity.

What Do You Need?

Many people pull out their credit card with lightning speed to purchase the latest version of a camera or lens in the mistaken belief that owning it will lead to a significant improvement in their photography. And while the lens may provide better bokeh or the camera may provide a new picture style or higher resolution, the images often look pretty much the same as the photographs made with their old equipment.

When it comes to determining what you need as a photographer, it is important to ask yourself the right question: “Is the equipment that I currently have preventing me from making the image that I aspire to make?” This is a much different question than whether the new version is considered “better” in some form or fashion. Your existing bit of kit does not become obsolete, as so many photographers declare when a new model arrives. It is just as capable of making great pictures as it ever was. And while the new equipment may offer more options, those new options do not necessarily result in better photographs.

It is important to consider your current choice of equipment and think about how it helps and hinders your productivity. Most of today’s cameras, even those that are several years old, can produce amazing photographs that can be printed and displayed as exhibitions-size prints. They provide photographs that deliver incredible color, relatively low noise at high ISOs, and sharp images. So if you are less than satisfied with your current imagery, it is important to consider whether the camera is really the solution. Maybe the money can be better spent on creating time to practice your photography during a vacation or a workshop. The time you dedicate exclusively to producing photographs will more clearly help you to discover what it is you need to become a better photographer.