I found myself caught in a lie this month. I was busy claiming, a bit smugly if I’m honest, that I renounce nostalgia and hold it responsible for everything wrong in the world at the moment (and specifically Brexit). At the same time I was holding in my hands the most nostalgic digital camera ever produced; the Hasselblad 907X, which includes vinyl records and a vintage Mustang in its commercial:
On the one hand I love this camera viscerally. It feels like an extension of my mind. Using it is intuitive and I know I am creating my best work. I get excited just to pick it up and whatever is in front of me sparks a photographic inspiration whenever I am holding it.
On the other hand it’s just box that captures light.
How can I claim to have turned my back on nostalgia whilst at the same time paying over the odds for a camera that is steeped in it? I am clearly as in thrall to it as the next person. But from now on I will be a little less quick to criticise others who are also influenced by its siren call.
This month I have been exploring a new style:
