I’d like to be the kind of person who coolly claims that equipment doesn’t matter, but the truth is I have always been particular about the feel of a viewfinder and the rendering of a lens, and my journey through various gear reflects that.
It is a simple fact: shift your position by just a few centimeters, and the optical information reaching your eyes through the viewfinder changes accordingly. The body absorbs these subtle differences and feeds them back into the emerging image. Immersed in this reciprocal movement, I search for the focal point and scrutinize the form before releasing the shutter. Sometimes I walk away after a single cut; other times, overwhelmed by the sheer potential of the scene, I linger for over thirty shots, minutely adjusting the distance and angle. While I occasionally contemplate what to capture based on the inherent meaning or nature of an object, the momentum to release the shutter is largely dependent on a physical sensation—a feeling that the optical axis of the lens and the physical axis of the photographer have perfectly intersected. The presence of the objects thus captured within the frame becomes imbued with a sense of collaboration between the photographer’s body and the subject.
However, when I am deeply immersed in a shoot using an SLR like the PENTAX 67II, the “weight” of my intent can sometimes become too heavy, making the work feel increasingly suffocating. To counter this, I periodically switch to a rangefinder, the FUJI GM670. The slight lack of precision and the inherent ambiguity of a rangefinder moderately neutralize that intense scrutiny. It brings back a touch of that early excitement—the “I wonder what will happen if I take this” feeling from when I first started photography. Often, it is these experimental shots that push the boundaries of the photographic space.
This is why I am an optical viewfinder purist. I prefer a “window” that is as clear as possible, free from redundant information. The PENTAX 67II series I have used for years has consistently featured a non-AE pentaprism with no exposure data, a full-matte focusing screen, and a rubber eyecup. On my FUJI GM670, I even had a specialist remove the distracting frame lines for telephoto lenses from the center so I could focus entirely on the subject before me. The crucial thing is that nothing obstructs the impulse to shoot; if the quality of this interface is poor, my motivation instantly withers. After all, nothing begins—neither success nor failure—unless you take the shot.
I occasionally use digital cameras for fun, but shooting while looking at a monitor feels like a routine act of consuming reality, and it rarely stirs my emotions. The viewfinder images of early mirrorless cameras were so dismal they reminded me of bad horror films, which led me to switch to external optical viewfinders immediately. For now, I am satisfied with the PENTAX 67II’s viewfinder. If I could, I’d remove the black circle in the center as well, but since it’s vapor-deposited, that would be difficult. My ideal rangefinder is the Leica M3’s viewfinder, but medium format remains my primary battlefield for now, with 35mm as a sub-format. I experiment with it from time to time, so perhaps I’ll start running with that soon as well.