Manual Labour of Love

What is it about manual cameras that people love? Surely they just get in the way of the picture-taking process by forcing you to do everything? Yet for some reason many people, myself included, enjoy using these archaic devices. Why, I even enjoy spending hours in a dark room repeatedly projecting images on to a light-sensitive sheet of paper and waving my hands and various tools over it in an arcane manner (chanting is optional).

I think part of the appeal of manual cameras like my F3 is precicely what seems initially to be a turnoff: the speed. Having to do everything yourself slows you down, gets your brain working. Paradoxically, slow is exciting. You must look through the viewfinder and really concentrate on taking the photo. Adopting the "shoot away and hope for the best" attitude encouraged by automation is just not possible; you must control all the variables: focus, aperture, shutter. You even have to wind/crank the film on, so you can't just rattle off a sequence of bracketed exposures automatically (motordrive notwithstanding). Having a prime lens helps, too, since framing and composition become issues to be dealt with fully, not shoved aside with a twist of the zoom ring.

Understandably, it's difficult at first, especially if you're used to the automation of a compact camera (film or digital). It's frustrating when you find yourself missing shots because you've had to fiddle with the camera or have forgotten to crank the film along. But persevere and things like that become second nature. You begin to enjoy the creative freedom that a fully manual camera gives. Manual focus doesn't seem such a pain once you learn to anticipate and pre-set the lens. Likewise with exposure: you come to know in advance what tradeoff between motion blur and depth of field will suit the image best. Often, with B&W film especially, you don't even need to be particularly accurate with exposure anyway (moreso with my favourite Tri-X as it's very forgiving).

Then there's the feel. Having not had a great deal of experience with cameras other than my own I can't vouch for them here but my F3 just feels right. The film crank is wonderfully smooth, the shutter speed dial big and chunky. With a decent lens the aperture ring is nice and positive with its clicks and the focus ring is smooth as silk. The viewfinder, showing 100% of the frame, is big and bright and with a rubber eyecup you can completely immerse yourself in the image (sometimes not such a good idea!). The F3 is also surprisingly heavy, which inspires confidence in its ability to just keep going no matter what's thrown (or shot, in some cases) at it.

Manual cameras are designed to last. Sure they need to be serviced once in a while, but so do cars and so does almost anything else mechanical. Because they're essentially just lightproof boxes with timed openings there's little mystery to them. Each of the few controls does just one thing. Their simplicity gives rise to confidence in their use. They're predictable on the whole, doing just what you expect, when you expect it. With experience you don't feel at all slowed down with a manual camera, you feel empowered and confident and free to express your artistic creativity. The camera is, after all, just a tool, a means to and end.

2005_02_20