through dad’s lens

The Minolta Himatic S2 is a classic rangefinder camera with a fixed 38mm lens and a 2.8 aperture, dating back to 1981. I remember standing in front of that very lens many times during family gatherings as a kid, while my father patiently framed each shot.

Even back then, I found the camera beautiful and oddly captivating—the sound of the flash charging was particularly mesmerising. But I always wondered why he spent so much time fiddling with it, why a simple photo seemed to require such careful preparation.

The answer, I later discovered, is rather simple: the camera is not a point-and-shoot, but also not entirely manual. You have to set the ISO according to the film type, then focus by estimating the distance to your subject and adjusting the meter scale on the lens. And when that little red light in the viewfinder starts flashing wildly, it’s a not-so-subtle hint that the scene is too dark, and it’s time to switch on the flash.

One day, I decided to switch places with my father and stand behind the camera instead. It was a sunny day out in nature, just me, my dad, my daughter, and our new puppy. As I held the camera, I realized just how different—and calming—it felt to slow down and truly compose a photograph, not just take a picture. It was a perfect way to relieve stress and escape from the everyday rat race.

I should really do it more often . . .

25.2.2024

Minolta Himatic S2, Ilford Pan 400