You Won’t Be Remembered For The Camera You Used

I was watching an interview with Don McCullin this morning. I was struck–as I always am with his photos–by the immediacy, the palpability of the anguish, suffering, and perseverance of the human beings in his photos. I contemplated how the photographer must be haunted by what he has seen, and by what his legacy will be.

It was somewhat after watching the interview, as I was packing up my OM-D, checking settings before putting it in the bag, that it occurred to me to write this post. It’s not a profound revelation or epiphany, just a thought. When all is said and done, folks won’t wonder what camera you used to make your photographs. They might care about the circumstances and the story behind them. They might care only about the images themselves.

It’s more of a reminder, I think, to myself and others. We sometimes get mired in the tech, the minutiae of the things that go into making a photograph.

The camera, film/sensor, aperture, shutter speed–all of that stuff only matters to you, and even then, only as much as they allow you to make the photograph as you want to make it.

(And, if you think conflict photography is important/interesting, definitely check out Don McCullin’s work–it is extraordinary and harrowing)