Any enthusiast involved in a pursuit that requires some sort of tool or equipment always has their "dream" kit, the one thing that will help make them better, faster, stronger, more creative at what they love to do. For photographers like me, it was always the dream camera. Oddly enough (or maybe not, since I have always been a bit on the offbeat side of choice), my one dream camera when I was in high school was the Olympus Pen-F, a marvel of mechanical simplicity and ruggedness. Unlike the stereotypical big body pro cameras like the Nikon F/F2 or the Canon F1, the Pen-F was very compact, but still had a full range of interchangeable lenses (many super-sharp) and was still a single-lens reflex mirror camera, despite the absence of the de-riguer pentaprism "hump" of traditional SLRs. And, it was a very economical camera, given that it shot in half frame 35mm, so you got double the number of photos from the same roll of film as full frame 35mm SLRs. It was, and still is, a clever and innovative design, one of the best by the great Japanese camera designer, Maitani (who later went on to design the Olympus OM series; the OM-1 is another of my favorites, but that's for another post).
I used one briefly for the first "photo gig" I had in high school. I was asked to shoot photos for the programme of a summer play I was helping with, and, not having a camera of my own, I borrowed the camera from one of the actors, a beautiful Pen-F. It was a great camera to use, and I never forgot what it felt like to shoot with it even if I never held one again for almost 15 years after that first fling.
I finally got one for myself many years later, and initially used it with an adapter for my Olympus OM lenses. I shot with it a lot until the inevitable neglect set in as a result of my inexorable move to digital photography. However, the love was rekindled again when I switched to M43 and realized I could use my old film lenses with with digital Pens (and the reason I bought a digital Pen was in part because of my obsession with its mechanical forebear). I ended up adding a Zuiki 20mm F4.0 and 70mm F2.0 to round out my Pen-F kit, and have used all the lenses on both my m43 and Fuji X camera with much success.
It wasn't until last summer that I really took my old Pen-F through its paces on a family trip to Germany. Fittingly, I brought my Pen-F along to serve as the film back up to both my E-P2 and a Fuji X-100. And there were days when the battery did run out on my digital equipment, and I was glad to have my trusty Pen-F with me. He is a bit cantankerous, his shutter speeds below 1/60 don't work well, has bit of a grindy double-stroke film advance lever (can't count how many images I missed because I only wound the first stroke), but what a joy to shoot with. Below, from my Berlin "Red" series (all coincidence, BTW, no real intention just to shoot red subjects). My experience was enhanced by hand developing the film at home (I hadn't processed my own roll since college, never mind color rolls), so the splotchy processing from unwashed chemicals and the dust marks from scanning give it all an organic feel.
Over the last few weeks, I have been shooting with my Pen-F again, just enjoying the feel and simplicity of shooting full manual, without a light meter, enjoying the great ergonomics of the camera, with no displays or menus or multiple choices to worry about. I do love the many features and flexibility of my modern digital cameras, but there are times when I need to reconnect with my roots, with my "first love" and remind myself why I got into photography in the first place. I also need to reassure assure myself that yes, if everything gets EMPed in an alien invasion or nuclear holocaust, I will still be able to shoot effectively without meter or digital do-dads (assuming I can find enough film that remains undamaged from all the radiation! :) ). The Pen-F helps me do that.
