The cheap shot
You don’t need the best camera. You need to keep on shooting.
As photographers, I believe we all try to test our limitations every once in a while. From time to time, I purchase a crappy camera to show off what I can do with minimal tools. It could be a very old DSLR, an Instax, or a smartphone. The less control I get, the more excited I feel waving those cameras in the street. If I could get a killer shot out of it, then it’d be awesome.
This time, I decided to get a no name point and shoot camera for $8. Yes, 8 bucks. I got a used one on Facebook since the camera was receiving a storm of criticisms for its poor performance and off the roof price new (you can buy it on Shopee for $50). To be honest, I didn’t expect much from the money spent. If things went south, then I could use it as a decoration or give it to my daughter to play around with.
Everything about the camera speaks loudly and clear that it is no more than a toy. The screen is a disaster, with narrow viewing angle and no details or color correction at all. The body is plasticky, with a battery cover that never stays in place. The sensor is tinier than most smartphones nowadays, resulting in low quality images, lots of noise, poor details/ colors, and a ton of motion blurs, not to mention the “48mpx” claim is a fraud. The camera tries to save the shadow instead of the highlight, so the pictures taken at EV 0 were all blown out and washed out. Every time I press the shutter button, it takes 1 second to actually take the shot, and another 5 seconds to save it. If you use the “fishing” method and wait for the subject to be in the right place, chances are you will miss the decisive moments.
Despite all the shortcomings, I came to love the camera. Not in the way I love the Ricoh GR3, or my trusty Sony A7C, of course. Looking at the pictures taken by it, I look past the sharpness, the colors, the micro contrast, etc., everything I’d normally expect from a work camera. Instead, I focus on the compositions, events and emotions, things that are decided by the photographer, not the gear. The camera is like my training boxing glove. It is worth almost nothing, I’d never bring it into the ring, but it sticks with me every day, and I can always use it to practice everywhere without any worry. I put it in my fanny bag without any protection, without any intent to shoot anything. If I happen to have 15 minutes free time out of nowhere, I have a camera to shoot away. It fills in the gap that the Ricoh GR3 and the Sony A7C can’t.
The slowness of the camera is not that hard to get used to. The thing is, it’s constantly that slow, it doesn’t get laggy randomly or receive a notification that gets in the way like a smartphone, so it’s easier to anticipate the shot. There is no burst shooting, so I must hold my breath and place all my luck on pressing the shutter button exactly one second early. If I miss, the moment will be gone for sure, leaving me cursing myself and the poor camera. I learn to plan the shots, wait more patiently, and click more carefully. In its own stupid and weird way, the camera helps me grow as a photographer.
Don’t get me wrong, there is no way in hell I would recommend this camera to anyone. If you get it, it’s on you, not me. What I’m trying to say is that gears shouldn’t be the reason why we don’t shoot regularly. Even an $8 camera got me going.
