‘You can only listen to one vinyl record at a time, so why do you need to own 100s of them?’ is a familiar refrain in my household. I’ve been buying records since the age of 14, so fast forward several decades and I’ve inevitably amassed a fair few of them. I’ve also been taking pictures from an even younger age. Yet I don’t currently own dozens of cameras as a result.
Honestly, today I tend to just use the one – a decade-old Olympus PEN mirrorless – most of the time. Its portable size and the results I get from it fulfil my needs. But unlike vinyl records where the music contained within the grooves is unique to each, thereby justifying multiple IKEA Kallax units full of them, it’s the images I make with the camera, rather than the camera itself, that I’m attached to. I’m guessing most of you feel the same way.
If you do, we’re in good company. Early in my journalistic career I was lucky enough to interview David Bailey in his London studio. Since it was a gear-related magazine I was working for, it’d become second nature for me to ask: ‘What are you currently shooting on/with?’ In response I got a shrug, a refreshingly honest ‘I don’t know… whatever’s to hand…’, followed by Bailey’s wheezy snicker of a laugh.
No matter who we are, we can only use one camera at a time.
So surely just going for the best one we can afford at that given point, or the one that most closely matches the job, is the best possible advice?
It’s not like we’re all professional photographers who can justify amassing shedloads of gear, after all. And even pro photographers can’t afford shedloads of camera gear in these tough times.
Another self-limiting factor is that, if you’re serious about photography and being able to swap-out lenses to achieve specific outcomes, you’ll already have invested in a particular camera system, deliberately ring-fenced by virtue of its own unique mount. Unless we’re talking Micro Four Thirds, or the L-Mount system shared by Leica, Panasonic and Sigma. That, and the availability of compatible accessories, imposes a restriction on how many camera bodies we might conceivably want to own.
Plus, owning and using the one camera forces me to get to know it inside out, so that it rapidly becomes an extension of my eye and arm. I want my focus to be on the subject at the time, while thinking ahead to the framing and composition of my next picture, not on what the camera I have in my hand is, or isn’t, capable of.
The camera might be good in low light, it might be terrible in low light. But that also inspires me to get creative and work within, yet push against, any perceived boundaries or limitations. In this way unique personal styles can be developed that help us stand out from the crowd.
I’m not suggesting that there aren’t ever circumstances in which owning more than one camera body might be, at the very least, advisable.
For pros, for instance, it’s sensible to have at least one spare camera body in case the primary unit malfunctions. Also, even keen hobbyists might not want to be taking out the bulky DSLR or high-end full-frame mirrorless all the time; it’s not outrageous to want the alternative of something more compact for day-to-day use, that can be stashed in a glove box or jacket pocket and quickly grabbed if / when a photo opportunity presents itself.
Mostly though, I tend to just have the one camera with me. And I’m perfectly happy with that. After all, why would I want some wag of a similar age taking one look at me, with my multiple camera bodies and lenses and, echoing the Olympus TV ads of the 1980s/90s, smirking: ‘Who do you think you are? David Bailey?’
The views expressed in this column are not necessarily those of Amateur Photographer magazine or Kelsey Media Limited. If you have an opinion you’d like to share on this topic, or any other photography related subject, email: ap.ed@kelsey.co.uk
