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Ludwig Wittgenstein, Photography, Achilles and a Turtle

Ludwig Wittgenstein. He Resigned His Chair in Philosophy at Cambridge University to Become a Shepard.

The last few posts we’ve been discussing the “ontology” of photography – what, at base, photography is. For the thinkers I’ve already written of – Jean-Paul Sartre, Susan Sontag, Roland Barthes, Jean Baudrillard – the important thing about photography, its claim on our imagination, is its relationship to what’s “real.” For Roland Barthes, whom we’ve discussed at length, photography was a memento mori, indexical evidence of what had been, and this is what gives it its uniqueness as a medium of representation. Similarly, for Sontag, photography was a “stenciling off of the real,” conclusive evidence proving the reality of the photo’s subject. Both Sontag and Barthes wrote prior to the digital age, Barthes meeting his maker via a  truck in Paris in 1980 (there’s an interesting recent French novel The Seventh Function of Language, by Laurent Binet, whose premise is that Barthes was murdered by other Semioticians), while Sontag did live into the digital age but never updated her thinking about photography (I met her in Paris in 2004, where she signed my copy of On Photography…which, you gotta admit, is pretty cool).

Sartre, Sontag, Barthes all saw photography as basically honest, allowing us access to the real, a function of its “indexicality.” They weren’t questioning the truth of photography itself. Baudrillard might be, but his issue was with the severing of indexicality, which is about a type of photography and not photography itself.

Now, I’d like to discuss an Austrian born “analytic” philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein, whose criticism of photography is of a different type. Wittgenstein’s critique goes to photography’s roots, where even traditional indexical photography – the analog process where light stencils itself onto film – isn’t truthful. This is ironic because, for Wittgenstein, photography is a practical expression of his preferred means of perception, his motto being “Don’t think, look!”

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Wittgenstein (1889-1951) worked primarily in logic, the philosophy of mathematics, the philosophy of mind, and the philosophy of languageFrom 1929 to 1947, he taught Philosophy of Language at Cambridge. While alive he published one book, the 75-page Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (1921), one article and one book review. A second work, Philosophical Investigations, contradicting everything he had espoused in the Tractatus, was published posthumously in 1953.  Bertrand Russell, Wittgenstein’s mentor – and subsequent protege – himself a philosopher of enduring significance, described him as “the most perfect example I have ever known of genius, ” and Wittgenstein is now considered a seminal figure in Western Philosophy. A survey of American university professors ranked the Investigations the most important philosophical work of the 20th-century. 

Once you get past the work’s complexity, Wittgenstein’s main point is simple – not everything we know can be put into words.  While most things can be said some things must be shown. In this, he agreed with Thoreau, who said that ” you can’t say more than you can see,” except that Wittgenstein goes further than Thoreau and believes you can see much more than you can say.  More can be shown than can be said, because, for Wittgenstein, to think was not to mentally verbalize but rather to picture.  

“Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent,” is the famous last sentence of the Tractatus. Unspoken is Wittgenstein’s premise the things about which we must be silent are actually the most important ( do you see what he did there?). We can’t verbally reason our way to these truths, as Western thought has tried to do since Socrates, but rather we need to look.

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Wittgenstein was Into Selfies Long Before it was a Thing

Given that, it shouldn’t surprise you that Wittgenstein was a photography buff. Apparently, he loved photography, annoying his friends by constantly taking pictures of them with cheap cameras.  But, in spite of his interest, photography represented its own conundrum for Wittgenstein. It was not the problem of indexicality as it had been for Barthes et al.  For him the problem was more fundamental, involving larger issues of visual representation and its capacity to reflect “the truth” of a thing.

Wittgenstein was doing something different than Baudrillard or the others I’ve previously discussed.  For Wittgenstein, it wasn’t that photography lied as a process, it was that what photography produced didn’t tell the whole truth.  Wittgenstein said of photography that it could only memorialize “what one glimpses.” A photograph was not a memorial, as Barthes and Sontag saw it, but rather at best a “probability.” The world of the photo could never be sufficiently complete in an existential sense; the glimpse it offered was too impoverished to present the truth.

Wittgenstein’s archive at the University of Cambridge includes the photograph below, a true “probability”. The woman in the photograph is a composite, created by Wittgenstein, overlaying four different photos of four different faces: his three sisters and himself.

In compositing the images, Wittgenstein was attempting to manipulate the photograph to transcend the partial nature of photographic truth, what he characterized as the difference between the “glimpse” and the long, studied look. To illustrate the difference, Wittgenstein notes what its like to watch someone without their knowing it: “Nothing could be more remarkable than seeing someone who thinks himself unobserved engaged in some quite simple everyday activity. Let’s imagine a theater, the curtain goes up and we see someone alone in his room walking up and down, lighting a cigarette, seating himself, etc. so that suddenly we are observing a human being from outside in a way that ordinarily we can never observe ourselves; as if we were watching a chapter from a biography with our own eyes—surely this would be at once uncanny and wonderful. More wonderful than anything that a playwright could cause to be acted or spoken on the stage. We should be seeing life itself.”

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Wittgenstein Would Say This Photo World is a Fiction

Greek philosopher Zeno of Elea (c. 490–430 BC) is best known for what’s called ‘Zeno’s Paradoxes,’ a set of philosophical problems formulated to prove that there is no such thing as change and that motion is an illusion. (If you think about it, that’s the same thing people who claim photography is truthful are saying, isn’t it?)

One of his paradoxes is of ‘Achilles and the Tortoise’. Achilles is in a footrace with a turtle. If  Achilles, who runs faster than the turtle, gives the turtle a head start (100 meters, let’s say), Zeno claims that Achilles can never catch the turtle, ever.  Why? Once the race starts, Achilles will run 100 meters, bringing him to the turtle’s starting point. However, during time Achilles is running the 100 meters, the turtle will run a further distance, say, 10 meters. Achilles will then have to run that distance, by which time the turtle will have run some distance again, etc. In theory, this should go on forever – whenever Achilles arrives somewhere the turtle has been the turtle is no longer there, and now Achilles has a further distance to go before he can reach the turtle, ad infinitum. Achilles can never reach the turtle.

Common sense tells us Zeno is wrong, even though, conceptually, he’s right. Wittgenstein would say that the belief in photography as true is grounded in the same conceptual mistake giving rise to Zeno’s Paradox: the claim that reducing reality to a static slice of time – a motionless state – can tell us anything about truth. Zeno’s philosophy presumed that motion, however actual to the senses, is logically, metaphysically, unreal. So too is the idea that photography could reveal to us a truth, the truth.  

Wittgenstein says that photography can’t give more than a probability of truth. Contrast the quick glimpse of someone when they know you’re watching to the close observation of them when they’re unaware of you. That’s the difference between the photo and the truth.   A photograph is a frozen moment, outside time, and thus a fiction. For Wittgenstein, photography can at best give a “snapshot…one of those insipid photographs of a piece of scenery which is interesting to the person who took it because he was there himself, experiencing something, but which a third party looks at with justifiable coldness.” To get at what’s true, your eyes must be open to the dynamism of reality as it flows via time. Don’t confuse the impoverished glimpse photography gives you with real seeing.

Reader Input Needed: Are You Experiencing Barthesian Fatigue?

What This Guy is Thinking: ” Good God, Just Shoot Me…Another Leicaphilia Article About Some Completely Unintelligible French Philosopher”

As many of you know, I’ve been off on a Philosophy of Photography riff for some time now. Partly it’s because I find the subject fascinating, and partly because talking about the latest Leica gadget gets old after a while, and also, frankly, digital Leica gadgets, in general, bore me, although I’m open to someone gifting me an M10. Also, as I’ve mentioned before, I’m now officially doing graduate work in history at an institution with fairly high standards, so that’s taking much of my time in addition to doing the work I do to pay my bills. As a means of motivating me going forward, I am open to someone starting a Go Fund Me campaign where every reader donates $10, the proceeds going to an M10 for me. It’s the least you could do, given I’ve been faithfully cranking out blog posts now for 5 years (I’m up to around 380 posts), all without running ads or mentioning sponsors or soliciting donations to “help offset” the costs to me of doing so (in actuality, the costs are minimal; it’s the time and effort that creates the burden). I’m assuming, however, that the Go Fund Me campaign, and the M10, aren’t happening. One can wish.

As long as I’m running the blog, there’s always going to be a certain philosophical aspect to it, but I’m afraid that the direction I’ve been going recently – all theory, little Leica – might be causing reader fatigue. All of which is leading up to the question I feel needs to be asked: what is it that you want to see from this site, if anything, going forward?

When I started Leicaphilia some years ago I didn’t care what my readers, if any, would think. I couldn’t have cared less. I saw this as my thing, a place I could say what I wanted to say about Leicas and film photography and digital photography and gear etc without being “moderated” by someone or censoring myself to avoid offending readers. That’s not gonna happen. Occasionally, in response to a particularly inflammatory post, I’d receive an email from a reader saying something to the effect that they’ve been reading my blog for a long time, they think it’s great, but…..I’m better than that. While I appreciate the input, I’ve made a conscious decision to ignore such advice. I think the blog works best when I say what I want to say in the manner I want to say it, and that’s the philosophy going forward. But, I’ve realized that reader input has been a really positive influence on the growth and evolution of the blog – readers’ photography, their essays, their comments.

As for my ideas about where Leicaphilia should be going, what I would like to see is more input from readers. I’m astounded by the quality of its readership, humbled really, by many of you, obviously highly intelligent people with all sorts of experience you could share with others, many excellent photographers, readers whose work I’d love to showcase, as I’ve done in the past. Some of the best work I’ve seen anywhere has been work submitted to the site by readers. I’d like to see more of that, but I’d like to see it accompanied by your thoughts and experiences of doing what you’ve done.

On an ancillary note, a reader recently commented something to the effect that the blog should be renamed Leicaphobia, given the often critical attitude I take to some of the things Leica does. This is a fundamental misunderstanding of my position. I love Leica, am absolutely dedicated to the traditional Leica ethos of simplicity of design and function. I love my Leica film cameras; I’m totally down with the idea of the Leica mystique. It’s real. Where I’m critical of Leica is when they depart from these core values and do silly things. Think of Leicaphilia as a love letter to a wayward lover.

So…the Comments section is open for your input, as is my email at leicaphilia@gmail.com. Let me hear from you.

Price of Fuji Films and Papers Going Up

FUJIFILM has announced a 30% price increase for its photographic films and an as yet undetermined increase for its photographic papers due to “the rising cost of raw materials and logistics.” The increase goes into effect April 1. In the past, Fujifilm claims it has absorbed some of the costs via “structural reforms and communalization of production facilities, but as a responsible manufacturing company and to provide the high-quality products our customers expect, the company will institute a price increase.” Products affected:

Photographic film :
Color Negative Film, Color Reversal Film, Quick Snap, Control Strips
The minimum increase is expected to 30%
Photographic paper :
All of Photographic paper
The minimum increase is a double-digit percentage.

The Vanishing Photograph

I recently made the acquaintance of a neighbor, an elderly housebound woman who had been a professor in the art department of a local university. We meet over a lost dog, got to talking, she invited me inside her home. Apparently, she taught photography – traditional film photography – and is herself a photographer of some note. I was struck by the sheer physicality of her photography – walls full of framed prints, rooms full of boxed and cataloged prints, loose prints of various sizes and configurations on tables and desks. This, I thought, is “photography,” and she is a “photographer.” And then it dawned on me that most people who currently consider themselves a “photographer” probably wouldn’t have anything in common with her and really couldn’t have an informed discussion with her about the craft of “photography” because, in effect, they would be talking about two different things. Two completely different disciplines.

Traditionally, “photography” culminated in a tangible print that I’d send to a friend, put in a scrapbook, hang on the wall. That was its purpose, the end result of the process of “photography.” The good ones, the ones with some aesthetic sense, got printed, matted, framed, shown in galleries or coffee houses. The not-so-good got pasted in albums, filed in drawers, or tossed.

Today, the photo is no longer a thing, it is about something. Photos have evolved from physical things to vectors of data in a diffused, virtual “information network.” The photo has been subsumed into an information web that is the source of its reality. No web, no “photo.”

Today’s “photograph” is an abstraction – actually a bundle of layered abstractions. What matters is inserting that abstraction into the virtual networks that propagate it outward. Creative decisions? Really not necessary. Leave that to the relevant app. Just as easy to have it randomly choose the “filter” to produce what would previously have been the result of the vision of the individual creator. It’s all good, as the kids say while they upload their duck-faced selfies and food snaps to the ether. In any event, what creative decisions there remain are secondary to the systems of dissemination – Instagram, Facebook, whatever. Likewise, the camera you use is significant only to the extent that it allows streamlined access to the dissemination networks. Camera’s without wifi linkage? Like a car with a carburetor – obsolete.

Justin E. H. Smith, professor of the history and philosophy of science at the Université Paris Diderot—Paris VII wrote recently about a photojournalist who back in the day tracked down Pol Pot, the psychotic Cambodian mega mass-murderer, spoke with him, took pictures of him with his film camera, then shopped the photos around in the traditional analogue way. This journalist contrasted his experience with that of his teenage niece, apparently a Social Network “Star” of some note, who, with her selfies and lunch photos, racks up more views on Instagram in a day than his own laborously procured pictures of Pol Pot have ever gotten, anywhere. She even receives corporate sponsorship, not because anyone deems her photos good or significant, insightful or formally compelling, but because their “metrics” signal potential for monetization. Him, well, you know.

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Photos – physical things – the creation of  Dragan Novakovic. These exist as individual, tangible artistic creations. I’m framing them and hanging them on my walls.

A few of us – those still conversant with the traditional analogue paradigm – are attempting to save a space for that paradigm. I’m increasingly convinced that the battle going forward is between the the tangible and the intangible. Advocating film photography as opposed to digital is ultimately about that. Traditional analogue processes, the kind that constituted photography as a craft, aimed at a physical thing – the print – as the final result. There’s a beauty to a finely crafted photographic print, a print that’s been matted, framed, hung on a wall, one among like others. The best – viewed as physical manifestations of the photographer’s vision – can send shivers down your spine.

With the advent of digital processes, the aim of the endeavor is the flow of information in visual form. Creative considerations exist only to the extent they aid in allowing the propagation of the information. Yes, you can print digital capture – but who does? Other than holdovers from the analogue era who still operate under the assumptions of the old paradigm, nobody. The upcoming generation – the “photographers” of the future – not a chance.

My international student – Nicki – watching me unbox my new printer, asked why I needed it. Because I want to print my photos, I replied. I like to have a physical thing, a photo, as the end product of my work, if for no other reason than once it’s printed out I’m certain to have at least one permanent copy. Plus, I can matt it, frame it, hang it on the wall. She looked at me quizzically, as if I’d suggested she remove her earbuds and go listen to some Tommy Dorsey on the Victrola. Why, she replied, would you do that when you can keep them in “the cloud” ?

Leicaphilia’s Annual Gear Purge

Ricoh GXR with A12 Leica M Mount  Module and Ricoh Electronic Viewfinder

$675/shipped

– comes with box, charger, battery etc – almost new. Everything works perfectly.

The Ricoh GXR with M Mount module  is one of the great bargains if your’re looking for a digital M. Good examples of this are becoming rarer to find in new condition. Love this camera. Prefer it to the M8/9. I’ve got two copies, one superfluous to requirements. Please do not make me put this on Ebay.

 

 


You can contact me with questions at leicaphilia@gmail.com

 

Happy Holidays

2018 is the year when Leicaphilia took on a decidedly philosophical bent, for no other reason than you can only say so much about the cameras themselves without repeating yourself.

With this in mind, my holiday wish for you comes as a suggestion. Go out and treat yourself to the following musical albums, all of them contemporaneous with the age of the iconic film M’s (clearly, there was something in the air back then). Each of them is a saxophone quartet (sax, trumpet, bass, drums), and each a recognized jazz classic. Make sure you play them on a good sound system with excellent bass, and crank up the volume; similar to rock n roll, 50’s and 60’s era quartet jazz needs to be played loud:

  • Saxophone Colossus by Sonny Rollins (1955)
  • Giant Steps by John Coltrane (1959)
  • Go! by Dexter Gordon (1961)
  • Night Dreamer by Wayne Shorter (1964)

What does this have to do with photography? More than you think. Arthur Schopenhauer, who I’ve wrote of elsewhere, considered music the only art capable of expressing the truth of being itself. Visual arts like photography were two removes from ultimate reality, as they were at best a representation of a representation. Music, being formless and non-representational, directly accessed the reality of being by bypassing the intellect and appealing directly to your “will”, which for Schopenhauer was the ultimate real thing that moved you and the heavens and the earth.

So, go listen to each of them while nursing a glass of bourbon (no need for an expensive bottle, just a decent no frills traditional bourbon like Four Roses, Makers Mark …or Rebel Yell if you’re seriously short on cash). Whatever you do, do not put ice in your bourbon (I cannot repeat this enough).  Bourbon in hand, Dexter Gordon blasting from your speakers, enjoy a bit of Dionysian revelry on this the most Apollonian of Western holidays.

The Enjoyment of Photography

I enjoy writing this blog. I find it therapeutic, allowing me to formulate thoughts in real time about things that interest me. I’ll usually start with a broad idea which i’ll gradually refine as I write, the end result bearing little resemblance to what I had initially set out to do. Writing, for me, is a process, a means of thinking through things by forcing myself to articulate them. What I end up with often surprises me, but really, the doing of it itself is the real emotional payoff.

Photography is much the same way. I’ll start with one idea which invariably will morph into something else, or it will if I leave myself open to it, which is the key to any creative pursuit- leaving oneself open to wherever your interests take you, what the Ancients would call “following ones muse.”

Paradoxically, it’s as if the best things are drawn out of you by some force separate from your willing self, coming from somewhere deeper and richer than your conscious motivations. No wonder the ancient Greeks believed in one’s muse, a creative impulse incapable of being quantified or measured, immune to rational analysis. Your muse comes and goes on its own schedule, but you connect with it only if you acknowledge it, make the time for it, open yourself up to its possibilities.

It’s remarkable what ‘the Ancients’ can teach us, which is probably the reason great minds in every generation find themselves coming back to them and why I prattle on about them on a photography blog – they have things to say which are relevant to us as photographers, things more nebulous but no less important that the technical aspects of the craft.  Stay at the level of technical expertise and you’re a craftsman, an artisan; follow your muse and you become an artist, a creator.

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It often feels like I’m treading the same ground over and over, and maybe I am. No sooner am I done with one post than I’m starting to think of the next. Ultimately, if I look at it as a series of tasks I need to complete –  creating an ongoing stream of blog posts, no obvious end in sight – the whole process seems futile, like rolling a boulder up the hill only to start all over when it comes rolling back down (itself an Ancient Greek metaphor). it’s this sense of futility, of the never ending practical demands of our goal directed daily endeavors, that creates much of the frustration and emotional emptiness of life.

Aristotle makes a distinction that applies here: the difference between telic and atelic activities. Most of the things we do aim at a final goal: photos for an assignment; a paper for a graduate seminar;  walking the dog so he can get some exercise and stay healthy etc. These are what Artistotle calls telic activities, acts we engage in for the sake of a further goal.

Goals are obviously necessary for humans, but a life exclusively goal directed is often ultimately experienced as shallow and unfulfilling. That’s because, in pursuing goals, there are only two potential outcomes  – either I fail to complete them, in which case I’m unsuccessful and frustrated, or I do complete them, they’re finished  and I now need to create and work toward a new goal. Either way, these telic activities offer me no rest and contentment, no ability to enjoy the value of having done what I’ve done, no true fulfillment. Ironic then, that it’s the model of human activity offered us by most cultures and societies down through history, and it’s the ethic enshrined at the heart of capitalism and consumerism.

How can we disengage from this goal directed treadmill that constitutes a “successful” life? Aristotle, never a man willing to accept common opinion, believed that real “success” came via contentment, and true contentment is found not in the goal directed life but rather in Atelic activity.  Atelic activities don’t aim at a goal. You do them for the sake of doing them. The enjoyment is in the doing. I walk my dog (telic);  but I can also go for a walk with my dog (atelic), no goal in mind other than the walking. Such activities are never completed: in merely walking with my dog, our aim is not to go anywhere; our aim is to enjoy the walk wherever it takes us. Atelic activities are insulated against the cycle of completion and disappearance characteristic of the telic. They are an end in itself.

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A “Wet Plate” 5×7 of an Old Tree I Used to Play Under Back in the Day

I’ve been thinking for some time about this very issue and how it applies to my photography. Thinking back, a large part of what attracted me to photography was the process itself, the end result often secondary. It’s also why I still love to use mechanical film cameras and enjoy the ‘doing’ of film photography – bulk loading film, picking film developer combinations, the entire darkroom process from developing negatives to printing them, the whole process rich in tactile enjoyment in addition to intentionality. Digital photography has taken that enjoyment from me, the digital process being about pushing buttons where once there were processes one engaged with.

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I’ve been thinking of dusting off my view camera, buying some sheet film and taking some pics. Better yet, going ‘artisanal’ and doing something unique. I’ve been doing an ongoing project, documenting a local landmark before it all gets torn down and turned into whatever it is that’ll make somebody a lot of money. The project lends itself well to a slow, steady approach. Old trees, old buildings, nostalgic decay that might work well with an alternative photographic process.

It used to be that if you wanted the look of wet plate or emulsion transfers you had to start with a wet  plate or you had to engage in the laborious process of image transfers, and when you were done you’d have a unique, one-of-a-kind image that was the product of both your aesthetic sense and your technical skills. Galleries and sophisticated collectors loved that sort of stuff. It certainly separated you from the herd, giving you an authenticity the guys shooting handheld cameras couldn’t touch, and it often made up for otherwise uninspired, pedestrian subjects. Look! Such and such really looks cool done that way, the emphasis being on the technique and not the subject.

But we also took these slow approaches because the processes themselves had value and gave an enjoyment by their doing, an enjoyment seemingly apart from the mastery of the act itself. Did we take the slow approach to experience the activity itself (atelic), or was it that the slow approach yielded results we wouldn’t have achieved another way (telic)? I suspect it might have been a bit of both, some photographers finding enjoyment in the processes themselves, others fascinated by the unique results uncommon processes produced. Today that distinction has broken down. As I’ve discussed elsewhere, with what can be done digitally, there’s no real reason to do it the slow way if the results are what matter. Applying filters in Lightroom, however, isn’t going to give you the experience of the view camera, or the darkroom, or the tactile experience of your M4 loaded with Tri-X. Is that good or bad? Depends, I suppose, on your reasons for being a photographer.

The Zenit M: Not an April Fools Joke

 

The Zenit M

The Russian brand Zenit, in cooperation with Leica Camera AG, has designed a new digital rangefinder camera, the  Zenit M. The manufacturer is Krasnogorsky Zavod (KMZ Zenit), a designer of photographic equipment in Russia. The camera is equipped with Zenitar 35 mm f/1.0 lens, completely designed and manufactured in Russia, 100% of its components and materials are Russian-made. The lens creates an image that “doesn’t require processing, has unique bokeh and soft focus effect”, whatever that means.

The Zenit M is based on the Leica M Type 240, but has been modified both in terms of hardware and software. The design of Zenit M copies designs of the “legendary”  Zenit and Zorky cameras, it’s a full-frame rangefinder camera made for shooting under various conditions.

The official presentation took place with participation of Andreas Kaufmann, chairman of Leica Camera AG, Alexey Patrikeyev, CEO of Shvabe, and Vadim Kaliugin, CEO of KMZ Zenit.

“Zenit and Leica cooperation forms a unique alliance between long-term experience in optics manufacturing and modern technologies of Russia and Germany. With this project we for the first time declare launch of world famous Russian brand Zenit into the new segment of photography equipment market,” said Patrikeyev.

The Zenit M will be available from December 2018 in Europe and from January 2019 in Russia at both Zenit’s online store and selected photo shops.

“On purchasing the camera and the lens the users will get not only a high-quality device with elaborate ergonomic design and high optical characteristics, but a really smart camera which will provide high image quality,” claims Kaliugin.

I’m somewhat confused by who this camera is aimed at. Zenit produced bottom of the barrel junk during the film era. Now a partnership with Leica? I’m not sure the status conscious will be happy with a Zenit, which leaves the possibility that it’s a stripped down, functional digital reangfinder stressing utilitarian use without the price premium of a Leica. I suppose it’ll depend on the selling price. In any event, an interesting camera.

“Unboxing” a 1985 Leica M6

The Leica M10 Box – It’s Elaborate For a Reason

Nuclear weapons may have given us the ability to destroy the entire planet, but it’s things like unboxing videos that will make you want to actually use them.  Unboxing videos are the post-human equivalent of a striptease act. They’re an early warning system, broadcasting the fact that the machines have finally won.  – C. Donlan


“Unboxing Videos” are an internet phenomenon I will never understand. Rank them up there with eating Tide Pods and finding  Kardashian women fascinating. Apparently, I’m in a minority, however. Since 2010, the number of YouTube clips with “unboxing” in the title has increased exponentially. There’s unboxing of every item you can think of, from blenders to live reptiles. If you can buy it, there’s probably a video of it being unboxed, as this attests.

Leicas make great subjects for unboxing videos. They’re expensive and desirable, things whose purchase we eagerly anticipate. Plus, they come in great boxes. Leica, like Apple, understands the symbolic significance of their cameras and the psychological and emotional aura that can be created or enhanced via a product’s presentation.

Recently I ran across an unboxing video of a Leica M6 posted by a Nelson Murray, interesting as a bit of historical documentation re: 1985 Leica presentation . Among other things, what strikes me is the relative simplicity of the packaging, completely utilitarian, functional.

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Compare it with the unboxing of an M10.

 

 

WTF?

Apparently, Sire von Overgaard has now graduated to a Kingship.

Many years ago, while a graduate student at Duke University, I took a seminar  Personology: Method and Personality Assessment and Psychobiography taught by Dr. Irving Alexander, Professor of Psychology at Duke, who has literally written the book on the subject. In short, it’s a method that uses a person’s written output and self-presentation to assess signature like unconscious features of a given person’s personality, fascinating stuff that leaks out of people’s attempts to present a coherent face to the world. Mr. Overgaard is just begging for a Psychobiography, and I may just be the man to do it. Stay tuned.

In any event: 90% Discount! Get whatever it is while it lasts. And, in a spirit of competition, I’m matching his 90% off sale with one of my own. Details here. Use code “IMSTILLGETTING RIPPED OFF” to claim your discount.