Fast or Slow?

As I sit here avoiding starting on some work that actually involves some monetary remuneration, I'm thinking about the camera I just bought (well, as a matter of fact, my mother-in-law bought it as a birthday present for me) and why I decided to get it. When given the opportunity to buy a new camera (and one that was under $1500) I was torn between going small and digital, in particular the new Fuji X-100, or larger and film, to a Mamiya 7. I ended up opting for the Mamiya, yet remain sort of torn.

The decision is a perfect manifestation of a kind of yin-yang I've struggled with forever. Be impulsive, quick, reactive, and technically simple; or be slower, more careful, more contemplative, and more visible. I have always been much more the former than the latter, and not just with photography. But I always want to be the latter. I like those kinds of photographs and have frequently been guilty of trying to make them with my Leica. A few years ago a close friend bestowed his Hasselblad 500C on me and though I've gotten fond of it, on many occasions I still feel cramped by the square format, and even more frustrated by the comparatively deliberate shooting style it requires (staring down into the viewfinder, focusing with its little magnifying glass, which still barely helps when I use the fabulous 50mm Distagon lens my friend also put on permanent loan to me). But however clunky and difficult I find it, I've also noticed that it works. That for the amount of film I put through it, there are a surprising number of decent pictures. It forces me into a completely different place as a photographer. I haven't found a way to make a discreet picture with this thing. If people don't acknowledge me pointing the camera at them, it's because they're choosing to ignore me, not because I'm quick or agile. I'm almost never comfortable with the interactions I have with the strangers I photograph (when I use the camera to make photographs with people in them) - I'm really not a touchy-feely person, and I'm acutely aware when photographing outside my socioeconomic stratum that I'm essentially a voyeur.

So the hope is that the Mamiya will bridge a gap. It feels much faster than the Hassy, and has a beautiful, bright viewfinder. It's quiet. We'll see. The lamest of rationalizations I came up with for going medium-format was that in a year, if I decide it was a mistake, the Mamiya will be worth more than a digital camera that holds its value about as long as a Coke stays fizzy.