[moschokarfis:studio]

Schlagwort: travel photography

  • growth in unexpected moments.

    growth in unexpected moments.

    As photographers, we often strive for technical perfection in our craft, always working towards creating the best possible image. Yet, it’s in the unexpected, unplanned moments when we’re free from the constraints of paid work or conscious technique that we truly grow. These moments of “free” photography give us the mental and emotional freedom to fully immerse ourselves in the art of capturing life. And for me, this realisation has been shaped by a very personal tradition.

    the challenge of one camera.

    For many years, I’ve set myself a unique goal for my annual trips to Greece: to treat my holiday as a small, private photography project. Each year, I travel with one specific camera, often choosing one that’s unfamiliar or even slightly „uncomfortable“ to use. The idea is to challenge myself to create meaningful images while working entirely within the constraints of that camera. This approach has led to some of my most fulfilling and enlightening experiences as a photographer.

    2024, I travelled with the Fujifilm GFX 50R in May;
    2023, the Leica M8 was my companion;
    2022, I brought the original Fujifilm X100;
    2021, the Fujifilm X-T2;
    2020, the Canon 5D Mark II;

    Each camera forced me to adapt, rethink, and engage more deeply with my surroundings. Unlike paid assignments, where the goal is often to take the best possible photo and move on, this process encourages a different mindset:

    What if I don’t aim for the “best” shot, but instead ask myself what kind of photo I truly want to create? Does my focal length fit the story I’m trying to tell? Is my perspective too static or predictable? Should I move, include more, or less in my frame?

    the shift to 35mm.

    In August 2024, I travelled again to Greece, this time with my Leica M-D Typ 262 and the Voigtländer VM Nokton 50mm f/1.2 ASPH – a stunning lens with incredible rendering. For beach outings, I often brought my Leica M8 with the 35mm f/1.4 lens, which, with its crop sensor, effectively provided a focal length of 45.5mm. Having relied on 50mm lenses for years, I suddenly found myself wanting more information within the frame to better execute the storytelling I envisioned. I experimented with changing my compositions to make the 50mm work, but ultimately, I switched the 35mm f/1.4 from my M8 to my M-D.

    To my surprise, while the image quality of the 35mm f/1.4 on full frame left me somewhat disappointed, the focal length itself felt entirely right. It allowed me to approach scenes with a new sense of balance and perspective. Back in Germany, the Voigtländer Nokton Classic 35mm f/1.4 II quickly found its permanent place on my M-D, and shortly after, I photographed an entire wedding with it.

    breaking mental barriers.

    Letting go of rigid thoughts and expectations transformed my perception of photography. Since then, I’ve embraced 35mm as my primary focal length. Today, I shoot with the extraordinary Voigtländer Nokton 35mm f/1.5 ASPH, which is easily one of the finest lenses I’ve ever owned. It has opened doors to new creative possibilities and reinforced the importance of stepping out of my comfort zone.

    final thoughts.

    Growth in photography doesn’t always happen when we’re pursuing perfection or working within our comfort zones. It often occurs in those quiet, unguarded moments when we allow ourselves the freedom to experiment, fail, and reflect. By limiting ourselves with constraints – be it a single camera, a fixed focal length, or an unfamiliar piece of gear – we gain a deeper understanding of our craft and a stronger connection to the stories we want to tell.

    What unexpected moments have shaped your growth as a photographer? I’d love to hear your experiences in the comments.

  • the most hated camera.

    the most hated camera.

    In the summer of 2024, just before my holiday, I purchased the Leica D-Lux 109. My hope was to have an ultra-compact camera solution featuring a 24-70mm equivalent zoom, IBIS, and the beautiful Leica colours.

    The idea was to use it for assignments where I needed to capture interiors at the widest possible angle – something my Leica M with its 35mm and 50mm lenses simply couldn’t achieve. Additionally, I imagined it as the perfect travel companion, capable of handling various situations and easy enough to hand over so that, for once, I could also appear in some photos. After all, photographers are rarely in front of the camera.

    first impressions.

    At first glance, the Leica D-Lux 109 seemed promising. Its compact form factor and excellent build quality were truly impressive. These were the positives. However, the moment I switched it on, reality set in. The zoom lens felt wobbly and flimsy, despite being relatively sharp. The IBIS worked as advertised, but video performance was utterly disappointing.

    More importantly, using the D-Lux 109 simply wasn’t enjoyable – not just for me as a seasoned Leica M photographer, but even for my wife, who has no brand preferences and only cares about capturing the moment and the final image. The overall shooting experience felt awkward and uninspiring, and the battery life was shockingly bad, further adding to the frustration.

    usability issues.

    I genuinely wanted to like this camera, but it seemed determined to resist. Every time I turned it on, it presented me with new reasons to dislike it. The lens extends to 72mm, but push it to 75mm, and the camera throws an error, demanding a restart.

    Autofocus was another major letdown: On multiple occasions, the camera simply gave up and shut itself down, requiring a manual restart to function again. These persistent technical flaws turned every shooting experience into a test of patience.

    the colours disappointment.

    If the iconic Leica colours had at least been a saving grace, things might have been different. On the camera’s display, images looked promising, but once transferred and edited, they failed to live up to expectations. The post-processing experience was frustrating, leaving me regretting not bringing another camera instead.

    conclusion.

    Upon returning from my holiday, I placed the D-Lux 109 in the cupboard, where it remains to this day. I actively avoid thinking about its existence and feel guilty even considering selling it, knowing that any future owner might find it just as disappointing as I did.

    In the end, the Leica D-Lux 109 promised a lot but delivered very little, making it – at least in my experience – the most hated camera I’ve ever owned.