Why do I shoot with a 4×5 view camera?
- Lo Kee

- 19 mars
- 4 min de lecture

The view camera… The myth… We look at it with admiration, almost with respect.
At its core, it may be the most elemental form of photography after the pinhole. A lens, a bellows, a photosensitive surface. And that’s it.
Some will call it archaic. Others will say it is simply the essential.
Rather bulky. Rather heavy too. One film holder for two shots. Even with ten holders in the bag, that’s only a potential of twenty images.
So we are quite far from the idea of a torrential output.
Anyway, the sequence of maneuvers before taking a shot makes any other intention difficult; you have to unfold the camera, set up the tripod, compose, focus under the dark cloth, close the shutter, cock it, insert the holder, remove the dark slide… Each step naturally discourages any idea of rapid shooting.
Another approach to photography
Recently, I used a view camera for a session with a model as part of a collaborative project. Although familiar with photography, she was still surprised by the time required between each exposure. With a view camera, nothing happens in a rush. Every image demands a little preparation, a little patience as well.

For those unfamiliar, it’s important to understand: imagine that once the equipment is set up, you still have to focus using a rack-and-pinion system. Compose the image according to your intention, keeping in mind that it appears reversed left/right and upside down on the ground glass. Next comes the light metering. Then you have to transfer the aperture and shutter speed settings to the camera, based on the choices you made.
Once all of this is done, the beginner’s mistake is to think that the setup is finished. It is not.
You still have to measure the bellows extension. The more it is extended, the less light reaches the film. A multiplication factor must therefore be applied to the exposure time determined with the meter.
Depending on the extension, this factor can easily double or even triple the initial measured duration. Without it, congratulations: the photograph is underexposed and you’ve just ruined a film that cost you several euros. And you won’t realize it until development.
The worst part is that every time the lighting or focus conditions change, the entire procedure must be repeated.
It’s easy to see why it’s difficult to imagine taking shots quickly with a view camera.

A Tool Above All
In any case, for my part, I use the view camera because, from a purely practical point of view, it is the tool best suited to certain aspects of my artistic practice.
I like the idea of having built an ecosystem of tools that allow me to develop different approaches. I do not do the same thing at all with a view camera as I do with a 24×36 film camera or a medium-format digital camera.
I do not want to, and as I described a few paragraphs above, I cannot. (This, by the way, opens a topic for an article that I will likely develop soon about the duality in my work between analog and digital.)
So, returning to the view camera, I chose it for its ability to use film holders, into which one can insert film, glass plates, paper… in fact, anything one can imagine, as long as it fits the dimensions set by the holder.
For my part, I have been developing for some time a focus on the materiality of images. It is a more plastic approach, in which I make my own photosensitive supports. Objectively, I had very few options regarding the photographic setup suitable for this project. The view camera was one of them.
While some revere it for the quality of the images it produces and the complexity of the movements it allows, I use it, for my part, solely for this matter of holders.
There is even a paradox in my approach that may bring a smile: I explore the materiality of photographs through alterations and flaws, while, as I just mentioned, the view camera has historically been praised for its precision and optical quality.
Senses Awakened
Nevertheless, I cannot deny the unparalleled pleasure I take in handling such a tool. It is precisely the series of steps that separates the idea from its realization that makes the act of creation tangible. Every gesture becomes concrete, every manipulation carries weight and presence ; a gestural and sonic signature all its own.
The senses are heightened. Touch, first: one handles wheels, gears, and accessories, often made of noble materials as wood, metal, leather… There is also the sense of smell. The leather, especially that of the bellows, has a particular scent, almost imperceptible yet very real.
Then there is hearing: the smooth movement of the rack-and-pinion, the gentle clicks of the keys as they are tightened or loosened, the insertion of the film holder, and the distinctive sound of the shutter. If you have never heard a mechanical shutter deliver a one-second exposure, come see me.
All these details create a physical presence in the act of photography, at a time when gestures are becoming increasingly intangible.

The Tangible Image
In the continuation of this exploration of the physical dimension, I recently added an instant back to my view camera, allowing me to produce unique images in the manner of a Polaroid. After each exposure, I hold in my hands a singular, concrete work that immediately materializes both the photographed subject and the entire sequence of gestures that led to its creation.
