The Tribune

By DIANE PHILLIPS

The world’s most expensive camera lens, the Leica Apto-telyt-R 1600 5.6, is valued at a whopping $2m. One report places its value even higher, at $2.6m. The lens is just under four feet long and is so heavy and protection-dependent that it must be transported by trolley. At that price, it is easy to understand why demand is hardly overwhelming, Only two have been sold, one to the Sheilkof Qatar who had a Mercedes built specially to carry the lens safely.

For any photographer, Leica and Hasselblad camera equipment are to photography what the Rolls-Royce, Bentley, Ferrari and McLaren all rolled into one would be to a car enthusiast. They’ve been top tier competitors in the rarefied air of capturing life in split second doses, recording it and holding it in stills till the last person wearies of seeing it.

In The Bahamas, the late great photographer Antoine Ferrier who produced the most memorable portraits of the nation’s high and mighty and with equal drama told the story of the less fortunate in black and white, had a Hasselblad. In the years when photography was a big part of my life, one of my most precious memories was an aging Antoine letting me hold the Hasselblad so I could peer through its upside-down view of the world before it. To this day, how it works is still as much a mystery to me as how radio waves carry sound.

The technology has advanced so much. The same device that allows us to reach a friend in the middle of a desert in Africa, puts the world at our fingertips or finishes our sentences serves as our own personal camera. We take it for granted until we hear of a single lens that costs more than it would cost to build a small school or hospital. Maybe it can focus in so sharply on a face that it can spot a pimple before it has burst through the skin or distinguish between the shades of colour on a Dendrobium that we would normally just think of as a purple orchid.

For decades, the Hubble was the largest telescope, letting researchers peer into the unknown worlds of the sky. While the Hubble remains the Leica of telescopes, a new Swedish lens allows even greater vision than the millions of light years away. Even a single light year – the distance light travels in a year – is hard to fathom. But science is never satisfied, always looking for the next envelope to push, open and help make sense of the universe.

Our own lens

These are but examples of what the finest, most powerful lenses in the world can do, lenses so strong and expensive that it is said that even the most successful Hollywood producer chooses to rent rather than own top of the line photographic equipment.

We may never hold a basic Hasselblad or Leica, let alone see or touch its new $2m-plus extraordinary lens. I once had a 35 Nikon 16 mm wide angle lens. It cost $450 and was the shining star of my overstuffed camera bag. Just pulling it out of its case gave me a sense of self-worth from owning something so special. Then one day, it was stolen when I was shooting Janet Jackson at the Straw Market for AP. I put the bag down to change film (yes, we had film in the 90s). When I turned to pick up the lens case, it was gone. The job probably paid $35. I never replaced that lens. Not long after that incident, a burglar broke into my office and stole my entire photography equipment collection along with other goods I had been gathering for a school fair. Distraught beyond words, I gave away the last rolls of film and put down the few pieces of equipment left behind, a tripod, some lens caps, a few old lenses, and turned to words alone, hoping to paint a picture that told the beginning, middle and end of a story. There were others who could do a better job than I had in photography. I was hoping I could do a better job with words.

Creating the view

Years passed. I continued to focus on words and often massaged them to draw attention to ethical or environmental issues that mattered.

Lately though, I have been thinking a lot about lenses – not the kind you buy, but the lens through which you see life. My older daughter reminded me of this, and I am grateful.

You see, we don’t need a $2m viewer or even a 16mm Nikon wide angle. The lens we wake up with is what shapes our day. We can choose to see the morning light through a soft and silvery lens, a happy place. Or we can don a look at the same sky and seem gloom and sadness, We can make the midday lens narrow and focused or choose a broad look at what remains to be done. We can greet the sunset with a sense of achievement or disillusionment. Happy, sad, fast, slow, eager, dread, excitement, fear. Emotions that shape the lens through which we see what lies in our view.

The lens we need cannot be found in a store. It does not come in a box, nor is it stored in a case, It rests in our minds, our hearts, our spirit, waiting patiently and silently for us to decide what lens through which we choose to see the world.

It’s really that simple.

Peacemaker Correction

In last week’s column, I included a small piece about Peacemaker, an abandoned fibreglass sailboat in Montagu Bay and indicated that BASRA had towed it out to a safer distance from shore. It was not BASRA that towed the vessel and I do apologise to Chris Lloyd and BASRA for the error. Now, whoever has been moving the stripped vessel around the harbour is as much of a mystery as the boat itself. But what is not in doubt is that should a strong north wind blow, either from east or west, Peacemaker is going to be a troublemaker blowing onto shore, being tossed about in the winds and waves and damaging homes or individuals. The Port Department has been advised. It is time to stop pointing fingers and whoever is the responsible party, take action, The owner who sailed into The Bahamas onboard Peacemaker died several years ago. I do not know any other legal action that may be involved, but I do know that many residents have expressed deep concerns and what-if fears.