Macfilos

About two months ago I discovered a photo website called Macfilos. I was looking for comment on cameras I was considering for purchase. This site now swam into my ken. 

I was most impressed. It was set up a decade ago, and by now there was a large searchable archive of high-level articles to read, all written by enthusiasts, people I wanted to hear from, about cameras and other photo topics that very much interested me. 

The articles covered the kind of cameras that discerning and special-interest photographers gravitated towards. Mostly written by men of course, and very much the sort who had money to travel, and to regularly indulge themselves with the fresh purchase of another camera - sometimes a new one, but often a pre-owned model regarded as a classic. As I was, in my own modest way (see my Flickr pages) a travelling lady, and in the market for a used Leica, these chaps at Macfilos had a lot to say that I badly wanted to learn about, before taking the plunge. 

Of course, I already had experience of Leica firmware - my well-loved D-Lux 4, mine from new in 2009, was loaded up with it. Coming from a Canon G6 (bought 2005), a Ricoh GX100 (bought 2007) and a Nikon D700 (bought 2008), I found pictures with the 'Leica look' very much to my taste. Later experience with a Panasonic LX100 and a string of Samsung smartphones convinced me that if I ever made another major investment in a camera, it would have to be a Leica, simply to get shots with that distinctive appearance. 

Leica's other offerings - the red dot on the front of the camera, the heritage, the ethos, the bombproof build, were naturally part of the lure. But all that was secondary to having gorgeous pictures that I'd enjoy taking, then carefully processing on the laptop, and then studying closely for ways to do it better. 

The men at Macfilos appreciated Leica's basic design imperative: to keep the controls few and easily-used, so that the person taking the photograph could concentrate on the task, and not miss a shot by having to cope with complexity. The picture-taking experience had to be direct and fundamental. I noticed that the smaller Leicas, especially the attractive X series (defunct since 2019), received a disproportionate amount of attention. All the X cameras had simple controls, the essentials and no more. No more was needed. I was intrigued.

The upshot was, of course, the purchase of my pre-owned (but hardly used) Leica X-U - now named Lili - on 20th August, just over a month ago, and with over 4,000 shots taken already. A purchase inspired by the many articles (and the comments made on them) in Macfilos. Thank you, gentlemen!

4,000 shots, and yet I've only just started to explore what Lili can do for me. Apart from the super-capable (but impossibly complicated) Nikon D700, I haven't before owned a digital camera that gives me such complete control over the picture-taking process. I'm not one to deliberate too long over each shot, but I do make sure the composition is at least a properly-considered one. So except in emergencies, or where the shooting angle is desperately awkward, I frame each shot on the screen with care. I don't use Lili for fast-moving action, unless deliberate blur will be part of the picture, as when capturing white water swirling past rocks in a river. (So nice to control shutter speed with a big physical dial I can use with gloves on!)

A long, perhaps never-ending, period of relearning the photographic craft all over again has now commenced. Macfilos will certainly help and inspire me in that. 

And other sites too. I once subscribed to Sean Reid's Leica-based website. And before it became subscription-only, I regularly dipped into The Luminous Landscape. Perhaps I will again. That's it: instead of spending (and, as it turns out, wasting) money on the Appledore Book Festival, I could subscribe to a few selected photographic websites. 

Leica itself now bombards me with emails that draw my attention to the work and wisdom of world-class professional photographers, or at least the ones who use Leica cameras. News, articles, exhibitions, workshops, auctions, special offers; all to get me - now that Lili is registered with Leica as my camera - involved in the World of Leica. And if I had the money, I might actually dip a toe into it. Even as things stand, I feel encouraged to aim for excellence. 

Excellence in imagination and skill, that is. Not the kind of showing-off that camera snobs indulge in. I despise snobbery. Although in all honesty I am as guilty as anyone. For example, by insisting on using Waitrose when I could easily use the populist but much-cheaper ASDA or Tesco. It's utterly wrong (but I confess, deliciously gratifying) to have a Wetzlar-made Leica around your neck when all the other camera-toting bods in the vicinity are making do with Canons and Nikons, destined to be old hat within a year. Sure, they have impressively big lenses attached, and there's no denying those lenses are good; but my lens is a Summilux. Ya boo, as schoolboys would say.

Actually, carrying oversized cameras is not confined to male persons. Yesterday was the 40th anniversary of my joining the National Trust, so I went to one of their properties, Knightshayes near Tiverton. While there I twice encountered a woman who had an absolutely massive black beast of a camera slung over her shoulder. It made Lili look positively Liliputian. I couldn't see what make it was, but trust me, it screamed 'expensive' and 'medium format' and 'professional'. But I don't think she was on a professional shoot. She seemed to be merely visiting Knightshayes with her husband or boyfriend, casually mooching around as anyone might do at a National Trust property on a sunny Wednesday. 

She was well-equipped and no mistake. However, each time I saw her, this eye-catching camera was still slung over her shoulder - and not in her hands doing proper work. Wheras Lili was in my hands, hardly ever out of them - ready aye ready at all times - both of us eager for the next shot. 

I can't accuse that woman of mere posing. She might easily have had just one or two particular shots in mind - and only those shots - the very kind that her wonderful camera was highly suitable for, hence its presence. 

But I am certain that Lili was the lighter camera to carry, the faster to deploy, the simpler to control, and that I came away with a lot more publishable shots than she did.