Overcompensatory image capture
It is time for photography text. I have been taking pictures since 1994. I have posted a bunch of recent work here.
I have owned cameras from pretty much every manufacturer you can think of. I now own, heaven help us, a Leica. And not just any Leica, like the ones made by Panasonic that they give their name to in order to fund actual Leica, but a Q2, which is basically an M with autofocus and a lens you can’t remove. Each RAW file clocks in around 82MB. Half of why I own an impossible computer is to process its images.
I found the Q2 on eBay at around half of its retail cost, because I am secretly astonishing at eBay. When it arrived, it unexpectedly came with over $500 of accessories I’ll never use: the original Leica-branded strap, a handmade Italian leather case, third-party chargers for multiple countries. No SD card, hilariously. I threw each one back on eBay and made back a fifth of what I paid. Even after all that, this is a preposterous, wildly unnecessary expense, easily costing double what a camera should cost a normal person.
And I don’t really need a camera. You don’t need a camera. Cameras as a concept don’t really need to exist anymore. Plus, you’re a theft target with any camera, but you’re the only theft target with that red dot. And Leica makes you flag as a money-burning wanker to 95% of those in the know.
So it gives me no pleasure to report that the Q2 is a life-alteringly good object. In fact, it’s probably the most significant upgrade to my quality of life in the past five years.
It is not just a good camera. You know that. You can read all the reviews you want about a Q2. There are plenty. No review will express the impact to your own life in owning one. It represents a significant shift in my habits. It affects how I see the world and how I work with memory in my own life. That matters.
I default to bringing the Leica out anytime I’m about to do something interesting. I take it on trips. I love processing shots after a fun day, and I love going back through my album of processed Leica shots and seeing all of the fun stuff I’ve done. What do I choose to remember, and why? What does my selective memory teach me about what I put myself in front of? In what ways does that selectivity shift my own sense of self?
These are questions I’ve sought to answer through my own explorations. You can do the same thing with an iPhone, of course. But there is a greater intentionality of working with this that brings it into the realm of ritual for me. That used to happen with other cameras.
I’ve worked with my Q2 for a year, and a few things show up for me as I reflect on it:
- You should take too many pictures. Burst mode is your friend. Hard drive space is cheap. You would always rather sift through 30 shots to find something perfect. The alternative is to not get the shot.
- I owned a Fuji X100F before this, and barely used it – because it was hard to use the software. It is now my webcam. The best camera can be ruined by software – and almost all cameras are terrible at software. You have to write your own operating system, define your own interaction model, and handle a variety of weird error cases. Even Leica messes up its software sometimes! There are a bunch of interactional issues that I have learned to work around. But the Q2 remains the least bad option.
- Cameras should do as few things as humanly possible. The Q2 works extremely hard at precisely two things: locking focus and getting an amazing shot. Everything else – video, timers, JPEG previews – is window dressing. If anything, the Q2 should remove even more features. I don’t need bracketing or custom white balance with RAW this good. I don’t need video, timers, or complex presets. I need tack-sharp shots on the first try, the best possible RAW data, and world-class low-light handling. If the Q2 had AI-level image stabilization for long exposures – think Apple’s night mode shots – it would be effectively perfect.
Befitting an object this expensive, I bought a Q2 for very, very specific reasons. I’ve taken photos for a quarter-century, so I’d like to believe I know how to work the thing. I had specific purposes in mind for it. I spent a long time examining my own habits, contemplating whether my phone really was enough. I had enough disposable income for it. I found a good deal. I waited for Leica to release a superior model to the Q, fixing all of the small issues that the original model had.
So: no, you probably shouldn’t buy one. I default to “no” on most things. Once you get into “half of a car” sums of money, and especially once you can’t really justify two-thirds of the underlying expense, it goes from “no” to “hard no” under almost all circumstances. Get something from Fuji or Sony. Practice with that. In a few years, you’ll probably be ready.