People who know me personally, or have got to know me a bit from reading this blog, may be wondering how I'm coping with the loss of my Leica X Vario, effectively just a paperweight now.
The answer is: pretty well. I certainly haven't fallen into despair! The stand-in, my Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra - last year's best Samsung phone - has, as expected, performed nobly. In fact, its results have been excellent, all I could really wish for: sharp, nicely exposed, and attractively rendered.
My criticisms are few. If anything, the pictures look too attractive, indeed slightly artificial, as if the scene were taken apart and put back together to look even better. In doing so, the original 'atmosphere' or 'mood' has been lost, and something different and synthetic substituted - very noticeable, for instance, in sunsets.
But the detail captured is extraordinary: it all looks clinically distinct. I don't see things like that in real life. My eyesight shows me a world in which only the thing or person that is getting my attention is actually crystal-clear; the rest is visible but indistinct. Razor-sharp clarity is a great thing for some subjects, but not so much for old sagging faces like mine! My phone is frankly cruel with human skin. Nor does it make food look appetising. It does much better with townscapes and landscapes, despite the colours erring on the sunny side. Man-made objects fare best of all, whether they be steel girders or sauce bottles. Still, if there is to be only one chance of getting a shot, I would prefer the result to be unrealistically beautiful, rather than dull and lacking in punch. In any case, I want it crisply recorded. Clarity above all else! I want to explore and study the picture, and need everything in focus. The phone obliges.
Above all, the phone can zoom. On this holiday, I have made much use of the x5 and x10 zoom settings, available with just a screen tap. The pictures taken when using the zoom - all of them handheld too - are astonishingly good. It's a testament to the power of the phone's processor. I've never had such a good zoom on a fixed-lens device before.
Using the phone isn't a long-term solution though. I want to grasp something that isn't a flat oblong. I want a camera that is camera-shaped, easy and secure to hold, with convenient physical controls. For those reasons alone, I am yearning to say hello again to my little Leica D-Lux 4, now my only operational conventional digital camera. It's very nearly sixteen years old, with almost 100,000 shots to its credit, but it's small and light and can do nearly as well as larger, heavier cameras that have passed through my hands since I bought it.
Which begs the question, what exactly have all the incremental improvements in cameras over the last sixteen years amounted to? Why won't I feel that I'll be taking a big step backwards?
I do read a clutch of favourite photo websites every day, and avidly note what's new and supposedly game-changing. I've seen many developments come and go. Lately YouTube, TikTok and other video platforms have skewed current model ranges towards the making of short movies, and away from still photography. And there has been a pronounced stylistic leaning in new equipment towards a look that salutes the film era and the early-digital era. At the same time, to maintain revenue in a smaller market, manufacturers' prices have shot up. To 'justify' that, cameras have in the main become hyper-capable and very complex: computers with a lens attached. The amateur photography world - male-dominated - doesn't actually mind this. I suspect that the average male photographer rather likes being enticed by mouth-watering specifications, and can ignore the eye-watering prices. Such a person, seduced by the latest and best, can easily find good reasons to take their hobby to the next level, and to spend whatever it takes to have a glittering status symbol that other men will envy. Manufacturers play on this, and aim their promotional salvoes at men only. There are no ads or promotions aimed at women, who are much keener on having value for money, and have no need to brag.
So I ask it again: are the pictures that modern cameras take - if viewed at normal magnification - fundamentally better than those from my little Leica D-Lux 4, a camera of 2009 vintage? Can anyone really say, ah, that was taken last week, or last year, or five, ten, fifteen years ago? I don't think they can.
The little Leica will, as it always has done, get me nice shots I'll want to keep. I admit that its sensor and processor have long been outclassed. It isn't (for instance) good in poor light, producing a result that looks 'distressed' - although very effective, if that's the effect I want. But I'm used to these limitations, and find it interesting to work within them. In any case, I have the phone for situations beyond the little D-Lux 4's powers.
One thing isn't going to happen. I'm not going to search in panic for an immediate replacement for my stricken Leica X Vario. I simply don't have the money - especially not if I stick with Leica. I'll see what's possible once my car is paid for, and once I've replaced my 2016-vintage laptop. But not before.
Meanwhile, the little Leica D-Lux 4 must ride again. I think we will both enjoy a fresh adventure together.
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