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April 2006
Until I got my Hasselblad medium format camera last year, I used a fairly typical 35mm set-up as my main camera. My Minolta Dynax 7 came with a reasonably
good zoom lens, ranging from the wonderfully wide 24mm to the useful telephoto of 105mm. I rarely had the lens off my camera. And why not, if it fulfils most
of your needs?
Then last summer I bought my Hasselblad. The camera that I got came with an 80mm standard prime lens (which is approximately equivalent to a 50mm lens for a
35mm system), and using it was a very insightful experience in that it showed me how lazy I had become with my composition. Don’t get me wrong, zoom lenses
are great, especially when you regularly hike up mountains with a pack full of equipment on your back and want to be able to take photos at multiple focal
lengths but while carrying the minimum of weight. But this prime lens took me back to thinking about my composition and what should and shouldn’t be in the
frame.
When I used a zoom lens, if I needed to get closer to the subject I was photographing, often I found myself just twisting on the barrel of my lens. Needed to
get a distant tree or building more prominent in the picture, I twisted the barrel. Needed to remove some branches that were poking into the edge of the
frame, I twisted the barrel. Job done. A zoom lens is a very easy and convenient way of adjusting what’s in the viewfinder. However, once the barrel has been
twisted and that branch removed or tree made more prominent, how often do you re-assess your picture to make sure that the composition is still balanced and
that your eye still flows through the scene? Well, I have to make an admission and say that I didn’t, and I never even realised it.
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Loch Lomond, Scotland, at sunset. |
When I talk about re-assessing the composition, I’m not thinking about the rule of thirds or any other such set of compositional references that most
photographers adhere to, probably even subconsciously. But by taking just a step to the side to remove those branches, it can affect the whole scene as
viewed through the viewfinder and those few centimetres can alter the balance of the picture. A tree that was nestled carefully between two mountain peaks
can suddenly be out of alignment. Or a building that was standing next to a tree can suddenly find that its side wall is obscured by it instead. Subtle
changes that affect the overall feel of the picture. Using a square format, as my Hasselblad is, doesn’t help the issue. The square is a very symmetrical
shape and most of my pictures take advantage of this challenging format by being composed in a very symmetrical fashion. Subjects are often dead centre in the
frame, or horizons running through the middle of the scene. Any small deviation from true symmetry is easily and obviously noticed. But unless you take a
second to actually look for it, you probably won’t even see it until the slide is on your lightbox.
With my prime lens, I have waded into freezing rivers, had waves soak me as they crashed over the rocks at my feet and I have precariously leant over cliff
faces all to get the picture I had in my mind, and it gave me better compositions at the same time.
That’s not to say that I think prime lenses are better than zooms. Just that by using a prime lens it forced me to realise what I was doing, and I shall use
this knowledge and experience next time I’m at the top of a mountain, using my small and lightweight zoom lens, to make sure I am truly happy with the
composition after I have twisted the barrel.
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