This week, I stumbled upon a wonderful photographic shop when I was in Leeds. Vintage cameras were the only items that were sold in that shop, including the Zenith SLR. When I was seventeen that was my first SLR, and I couldn’t forget it because it was a very remarkable device. The camera was cheap and nothing could ever stop it working. I can prove that to you by giving you an example of a situation that happened to me once. I purchased a Russian telephoto lens that it seemed like it was made of uranium and one time I left the camera and the lens on my car’s roof. I didn’t notice they were there and I just drove off. Then at some point I looked at my rear-view mirror and I saw the lens and camera in the road behind me tumbling along. The camera was fine apart from some deep scratches and dents. The lens was okay too, though it felt like a pepper grinder when you zoomed in. Somewhere now, the camera is probably in a land-fill and as soon as someone finds it, it will be ready to take some pictures.
I felt like I just couldn’t step away from that shop. It was like there was something enchanting about cameras’ beauty and their durability. I am not quite sure what I meant by that but maybe it’s because there isn’t any software installed in these cameras whatsoever. No electronics, no bugs and no updates. There is everything you need and you can fix it if it breaks.
A shelf full of stately-looking cameras, such as Yahicas, Hasselblads and Mamiyas had me drawn to it. They all had every intention of being around as long as possible by the looks of them.
I am thinking about buying one or even more of these. The pictures are wonderful and till you start using them they are not expensive. A friend of mine who is a legitimate photographer, recently bought a Mamiya and I won’t lie to you there’s something very inexplicably superb about those pictures. Maybe, it’s the size of the frame or the nature of chemical film or the shallow depth of field.
As usual, I spent the rest of the day on my 4G iPad checking emails and pecking them out. But I was transported to another place just for half an hour where the world seemed better in some ways and different.
Regarding the merits of digital vs analogue, it seemed like we are having an extended discussion in a completely unplanned way. It’s like we couldn’t stop once we started it. But it’s all good because it gets right to the point what we actually do when work with still or moving creative imaging in these modern times.
Not so long ago, we researched why some people consider the sound of Vinyl to be better in comparison to the digital recording’s accurate sound. It’s a real thing trust me. I have friends who are passionate audio enthusiasts, quite intelligent, and completely logical in their point of view. They all prefer the sound of an inferior medium.
You’ll see there’s a common theme, if you look at the comments to the article. It is that the records were made differently when they were made for vinyl. Particularly, in a different way they were mastered.
You could be excused for never having thought about mastering, if you’ve never worked in the audio business. It is the most important process.
There will be a master tape when a record is made. The stereo recording will have two channels. The sound recordists have to make the best possible quality. But in order to make a record from it won’t necessarily be the best recording, because there are different properties associated with consumer recording mediums. The dynamic range is limited with vinyl. It’s not possible to have very loud sounds because the grooves will bump into each other in the record, and there’s a change that the needle might jump out of the groove. So this is taken in to account by vinyl masters. They may also confess that through the groove the needle moves slower, because it gets closer to the center. That’s why near the middle of the record you usually find the gentle ballads.