In photography, as in life, it is easy to take ourselves too seriously. Once you go beyond being a simple snapshot photographer and move unto the realm of finer craftsmanship, the drive to learn more, to practice more, to try more complex ideas all the time is always there; but it can push us too far.
Surrounded by the constant articles comparing the precise optical properties of the newest lenses, the detailed technical specifications of the latest sensors, sometimes we forget to just let ourselves be free of expectations. Not every picture will be a masterpiece of technical achievement, nor does it have to, and perhaps this is why sometimes the art world leans away from the search for perfection and instead embraces the rough edges that we sometimes think of as defects in an image, as a way to remove the focus on craft and remember to tell a story, to transmit an emotion.
I am not an artist, at least I do not consider my pictures to be truly art yet, though I do aspire to someday achieve that distinction. I have, however, managed to get a decent grasp on the finer theoretical and practical pieces of knowledge of our craft to the point that for most situations, I can make the camera capture what I am envisioning as I stand in front of a scene. This, however, has also caused me to be, on occasion, too serious. Too unwilling to take a picture because I don’t have the right camera with me, too dismissive of moments in which the light isn’t right. And I needed to be reminded, to let go.
The reminder came about a year ago, when a friend with whom I will sometimes talk shop, told me about a camera her mother had brought back from Russia; a toy camera we would call it nowadays, in a way that instantly conveys the idea that it isn’t meant for “real” photography. No self-respecting photographer would really use it for serious work, is the implied judgement. But it’s not every day that one gets to play with a relic of the USSR, so I agreed to take a look and run a roll of film through. That camera, beyond any other I’ve used so far, has helped me remember to sometimes just let go.
It didn’t start its life as a toy; unlike some other fully plastic cameras that were just novelties, the Smena 8M was meant to be a real camera for young people, and seeing how it was built by the now famous LOMO production house from which the Lomography movement takes its name, it very much was the Instagram of 70’s USSR, but while other countries were busy adding all sort of modern features to their cameras, the Soviet scene was decidedly more old school, this camera is manual…very very manual. How manual? Well, so manual that the shutter isn’t tied to the film advance, so every now and then you’ll get a double exposure because you forgot to advance the film before taking the next shot.
That is part of the charm though, all the defects, the light leaks, the mechanical shutter whose action takes it right through where your finger will be resting which makes any semblance of a predictable exposure hopeless, the advance mechanism that is only tied to the shutter button but not the shutter itself; all of those issues will at some point force you to give up, not on the taking of pictures –mind you- but on trying to predict what will happen; you will learn that it’s impossible to keep everything in mind every time, when you reach for this camera you will panic for a second, you’ll wonder if you’ll get the picture, if it will be even usable. But that is not the point, that’s not the point of these toy cameras, they are, after all, a toy, a thing of play, a thing of fun, and maybe, they can teach you to not worry all the time.
Sure, you won’t shoot like that if you’re doing an assignment or a commercial shot; and I’m not advocating throwing all our knowledge and technique by the wayside; but maybe, sometimes we are overly harsh with our own work; we dismiss photos that aren’t perfect, or we stress too much over every little detail in a shoot, when perhaps we should’ve trusted our own instincts a bit more, let our experience work its magic, we’ve been shooting for a long time after all. So, if you, like me, sometimes feel like you need a lesson in easing out on the need for control, maybe give a toy camera a try.
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Dan James on Smena 8M Review – Sometimes you just have to play – By Carlos Argott
Comment posted: 17/06/2017
They aren't the most robust camera, my first lasted maybe three rolls of film, the second one little more. But they're still very cheap and available, so replacing is fairly easy. Definitely more fun than say a 90s AF point and shoot.
Frank Lehnen on Smena 8M Review – Sometimes you just have to play – By Carlos Argott
Comment posted: 17/06/2017
And you're right to say that sometimes we have to let go and just hit that shutter button and marvel at the results....
Spehmaster G. on Smena 8M Review – Sometimes you just have to play – By Carlos Argott
Comment posted: 17/06/2017
The notion that these are 'Toy' cameras is an unfortunate and misleading monicker.. They are not.. The SMENA's lens is excellent (as good as the terribly overpriced Lomography LC-A) and it shouldn't have any light leaks, if it does, your camera needs attention.
I think this strange Lomography marketing 'cult' has slandered film photography, or is at the very least guilty of misinforming young people that film is meant to be unpredictable, '2nd rate' or mediocre.. Nothing could be further from the truth.. It requires thought, skill and patience.. Attributes all young people should embrace.
Comment posted: 17/06/2017
Theo on Smena 8M Review – Sometimes you just have to play – By Carlos Argott
Comment posted: 18/06/2017
Just in case you're interested, I wrote about my experience with it here: http://photothinking.com/20170507lomo-smena-8m-the-comrade-for-the-young-generation/
Keep up the great articles!
George Appletree on Smena 8M Review – Sometimes you just have to play – By Carlos Argott
Comment posted: 19/06/2017
A toy is designed for playing... kinda the lomography philosophy: make it fun.
"Toy" cameras became fashionable as some reaction to the rigour of photography technical side.
As always that worked in a wavy manner, it's toy it is not, is good is it bad, is it serious or art or etc (while lomo made its business, even "embassies")
All that is annoying for me.
As you mentioned cameras should be at least controllable.
... no chocolate cigarettes please
Those samples are rather contrasty and well composed.
The statement "it's not the camera, it's the photographer" comes here well. Because at last it's none of both, it is just the photographs you get.
You can drop lots of words on philosophy, but, at last watch your photographs and see what they tell. If they do don't break your mind thinking if thanks or not to that cheap or expensive camera or lens.
Just learn to use the one you do. If its a toy only allowing you saying "say cheese", just drop it out fast
Bob Dungan on Smena 8M Review – Sometimes you just have to play – By Carlos Argott
Comment posted: 14/07/2017
Comment posted: 14/07/2017
I love black and white photography on Smena 8M Review – Sometimes you just have to play – By Carlos Argott
Comment posted: 17/07/2017
Camera Review Blog No. 9 – Lomo Smena 8m (ЛОМО Смена-8M) – Alex Luyckx | Blog on Smena 8M Review – Sometimes you just have to play – By Carlos Argott
Comment posted: 04/12/2019
These are the most produced 35mm cameras of all time - Kosmo Foto on Smena 8M Review – Sometimes you just have to play – By Carlos Argott
Comment posted: 22/03/2020