(Content/trigger warning: very little Pentax in this comment, some amateur psychology). I invested a lot in Fujifilm APS-C and got an Olympus M43 camera (the PEN-F digital) as a lifestyle toy/indulgence. I resolved to myself that I would not buy anything but the kit lens for M43 and was centralizing on the Fujfilm gear, buying into that system and resisting a wandering eye. For purposes of some dabbling in (mostly vintage SLR) lenses and doing technical analysis of them, I also bought a high-resolution Sony full-frame image-quality monster.
I’ve used hundreds of cameras from ancient half-frame film rangefinders to lots of SLRs (including Pentax) to medium format, both film and digital. I collect and repair and restore and measure and tinker. I started doing photography about 30 years ago, primarily using Nikon FM2. I also do a lot on iPhone. (Add-on lenses like Moment and Sandmarc are not to be sneered at for a lot of work. We like to talk about pocketable cameras… I don’t own ANY cameras as pocketable as a screw-in lens.)
I do a lot of birding, bugs, spiders, astro, landscape, architecture, family, pets, etc. All amateur. I’m just in it for the pleasure. Stick with me, the plot twist is coming.
What I’ve found is that I am always impressed by the capabilities of every system, but:
- I love using Fujifilm cameras and prime lenses. The pleasure of use is second to almost none, for me. And images have a look I love.
- I started to notice that Fujifilm’s pro-quality zoom lenses are expensive, big, heavy, and not as high quality optically as any other system I own. For example, I found I couldn’t use my 100-400 wide open in harsh lighting, due to low resolution and blooming, at the 400mm end. I sent it to Fujifilm (they have great professional services who have always treated me well) and they tested it and it passed, but they sent me a replacement and it was the same way. It’s a big, heavy lens for what it is; it doesn’t uphold the promise of smaller and lighter. I also found a number of things about some of their other more expensive lenses that just don’t compare well. The 80mm macro, when you turn off digital corrections, has a lot of distortion, as I found when I started using it to scan negatives in RAW. That, plus it’s enormous and heavy. And the 16-55mm f2.8 “pro” zoom ended up leaving a bad taste in my mouth for size, weight, and image quality too.
- As I happened to pick up and use (mostly through rental) the Olympus pro-grade lenses, I was blown away. Now, that is small and light and high quality. And the capabilities and experience of using Olympus cameras is also special for me. After a while I couldn’t ignore this anymore. I changed my mind, sold all my high-cost Fujifilm zooms and invested in Olympus more. I have had zero regrets. Now I have the OM-1 and a bunch of great lenses. Even their non-Pro lenses impress me; the 60mm macro is a fraction of the size and weight and cost of the Fujifilm macro I sold.
- Despite the Sony being an incredible machine, I just can’t enjoy it. I don’t know why. It’s never shutter therapy for me. I am never inspired at the thought “what if I take the ol’ Sony out and photograph some flowers?” I can’t even work up any enthusiasm for the thought of “I’ll put the Minolta 58mm f/1.2 onto it” or anything. Nothing. I keep checking myself for a pulse and can’t find one. Every time I use it I am delighted with the photos but then never eager to use it anyway.
What’s the point of all this?
We humans are very good at deceiving ourselves. We believe we’re making decisions by thinking, weighing alternatives, making lists of benefits and drawbacks, everything. We want to believe our actions are justified and rational. They’re not. These are all almost entirely emotional and subconscious and involuntary processes, and then we (also mostly subconsciously) seek to reverse-engineer stories that explain why we did what we did. Out of the thousands of possible stories floating up from the murky depths, we choose and filter and promote the ones that reinforce the ultimate narrative we are so invested in: “I’m this-and-such kind of person.” And then we cling desperately to that, inwardly and outwardly.
As for me? What kind of person am I? I’m the kind of person who chooses gear because of how it makes me feel, and I’m the kind of person who then goes onto a forum and tells myself stories about it (“experienced! old-timer! open-minded! knowledgable! not elitist about iPhone cameras!”) because I need everyone else on the forum to see me doing it. It’s all about identity, the most precious thing I hold most dear, and can’t stop doing (what part of me, other than ego, would ever decide to get rid of ego?).
Is M4/3 really much better than iPhone, or much different from APS-C, and should I sell my Sony to finance Fujifilm X100S medium format, or would I weary of it and switch back to FF, despite reading all the stories of FF users switching to medium format after seeing an image quality difference they can’t unsee? I don’t know. I’m interested, though: what cameras would I choose if I really believed in my own inherent goodness and had no lingering voices of inadequacy whispering in my head? It’s kind of a terrifying question, actually.
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