An unlikely relationship between the sensor format and my being an insider or an outsider

I wrote these notes after a drift that lasted twelve hours, from 7am to 7pm, for a walking distance of about fifteen kilometers.

During this drift I took on different personalities and different ways of doing as a photographer: I was the photographer who enters the living space of other people and interacts with them, I was the photographer who is not noticed, who keeps away from the subject, who is indiscreet without showing up and without asking for permission. 

I was an insider and an outsider. 

I wondered what influenced my behaviour and the consequent assumption of the two roles: I must admit that the type of photographic instrument can influence the assumption of a role.

In the next notes I will reflect on the unlikely connection between the size of the photographic sensor and the behavior of the photographer in urban photography.

The medium format sensor is a "niche" for professional photographers: the cameras that are equipped with it have as ancestors, in film photography, 6x6 and 6x7 cameras. The first so loved by photographers such as Robert Doisneau, Vivian Maier, Robert Capa, and Richard Avedon.

At the other extreme are the one-inch sensors, which in film cameras were cartridges and very compact, not to mention tiny. 

Today the cameras with a one-inch sensor equip the models defined as "bridge", which are equipped with very large zoom ranges. In these notes, I do not dwell on the technical quality, but on how, in my opinion, these two types of cameras, different in all respects, can influence the behaviour of the photographer.

I realize that a medium format camera has such dimensions as to be uncomfortable for me, but also for others, who perceive it as an imposing professional tool. 

Some people associate the professional tool not so much with artistic practice as with journalism, therefore with a curious, indiscreet and intrusive way of doing. 

However, the medium format is ideal for urban landscape photography, and its unrivalled dynamic range allows you to fully capture the chiaroscuro. 

In my search for a personal drifting, based on the feeling and perceptions of the surrounding environment, the sometimes extreme alternation between lights and shadows of narrow streets, alleys and tunnels is an essential component to be grasped in order to fully convey the sensations and associated aesthetics. 

Given the format, I am sure that what I see is also what I will find in the images I take. 

I do not perceive the instrument as a mediator between me and the reality that surrounds me: I perceive it as a support in recording what I see through my eyes. 

Thus, the instrument does not have an alternative point of view to mine and therefore I will not have the need to reconstruct an equally alternative narrative to the story I lived. 

If I wanted to change the narrative or build a new one, I would do it in postproduction, cropping the original image and bringing out details on which I want to focus the viewer's attention.

At the other extreme is the bridge camera, with its small sensor and ability to zoom up to 30 times. 

In this case, I construct the narrative while taking the photograph, and I have noticed that, in post-production, I hardly change the point of view of the original photograph.

It is fascinating how the instrument conditions my way of drifting: in the case of the medium format I approach the subject, in the case of the bridge camera I zoom in and out, until I reach the desired position with respect to the subject, without taking one step. All this also has a meaning for others, to whom I don't necessarily have to get close.

In summary: the medium format forces me to interact with the surrounding environment and perhaps grasp signs and meanings more fully, as an insider. 

The small format and the zoom capability make the bridge camera a key mediator that unequivocally makes me an outsider, but also allows me to isolate details that are equally functional to my personal narrative.