The Nikkormat

At the beginning stages of this new endeavor, I am reflecting on the origins of my interest in photography. I don’t remember whether it started with photos themselves or with the camera. I have a distinct memory of playing with a camera, when I was a child, that belonged to my dad. I knew nothing about it but I immediately was taken with the feeling of the camera in my hands. The feeling of the internal parts moving as I pressed the release button. Aligning the picture I saw in the viewfinder pretending to photograph something in my room. The feeling of pulling that lever back to be able to press the button again. I never knew to ask for film to put into it. I don’t think my dad ever saw me pretending to use it, I spent so much time in my room by myself unsupervised. No one saw my interest in it and gave me encouragement to keep with it. I never expressed verbally how much I loved the camera, how desperately I wanted to use it. I had been interested in cameras for awhile but was intimidated. 

I was not one to ask for help, or be inquisitive, although I had so many questions all the time. I grew up with the limiting belief that asking questions meant I was stupid. I grew up alongside people that had confidence and seemed to have answers to everything so my assumption was that I was behind, that I should just know these things already. I didn’t understand that there was a process to learning. For years I just played with this camera hoping that one day I could use it to make a photo. 

Fast forward to freshman year of highschool, I finally decided I was going to pursue this photography thing. Other kids were in a DigiPhoto class and got to walk around and use these amazing cameras with removable lenses. That was so cool to me. I wished so badly to be in that class but remember that I had to tailor my course schedule to make up for my academic struggles in other courses. I did fine as a student but my grades certainly didn’t scream “Stanford”. I wanted so badly to just be in the art classes, to create and use my imagination. 

So, I get this camera for either a birthday or christmas, a fixed lens Nikon Coolpix L100. It had the ability to make sequenced photos like the skateboarding and snowboarding magazines that I grew up with. So. Fucking Sick. I took this thing on so many adventures to get sequence shots of my friends on BMX bikes, skateboards, and on snowboard trips. It was one of my favorite things to do, capture my friends flying through the air, one fraction of a second at a time. These photos ended up on, wait for it….Myspace. My first time sharing what I saw through the lens. That profile may still exist!

Eventually, the novelty of this wore off and I wasn’t consistently taking photos. More likely I was focused on my car, my girlfriend, or hoping my friends would throw a party so we could get shitfaced on Keystone Light. Then the evolution of Myspace to Facebook and Instagram happens and I would post some photos from my Nikon every now and then. It was probably a photo of a potted plant, fire hydrant, something that I found interesting but had no idea how to frame it. No idea of composition, lighting, or why I found something interesting. I was just doing it because I loved the act of going out and capturing what I noticed. 

July 2015. I am going on a trip to Japan with two friends for 17 days. I decide that if I am ever going to start photographing, this is the time to buy a camera. This is the moment to kick it off. I bought a kit on…Amazon I think? for $500. A Sony alpha 5100 digital camera with a zoom lens, and all kinds of other gear that I had no idea what to do with. On that trip I made over 700 photos. I was obsessively looking back through them every day to analyze what to do better and what I did. I had tried to use my dad’s Nikkormat during my photography resurgence but loaded the film incorrectly so those photos never saw the light. 

August 2015, I move to San Diego to Attend USD. When I moved I brought the Nikkormat with me and decided to take an intro to photography class. The professor, Michael Mulno, was one of the first people to see my interest and push me. He is a pivotal figure in my development, teaching me how to see and analyze my photography. He encouraged me to keep going. Years later I ran into him at the photo store and he was glad to see I was still doing it. More of my time was spent in the darkroom for this photography course than in the library preparing for my other courses. I was obsessed with improving. During this course the Nikkormat became a part of my daily wardrobe and stayed on my shoulder most days after that. I got to connect with this camera that had been in my family since it came out of the factory. I was using the same camera that my dad was using when he was my age. How fucking cool is that? 

Present day, Summer of 2024, back in San Diego. The Nikkormat sits on a shelf in my home, it rarely gets used. My love for it has not faded in the slightest. However, I bought a camera that is “mine”. A camera I was fixated on buying since I started learning about cameras. It was 8 or 9 years before I decided I wasn’t an imposter in the photography world, that I had put in the work to be able to wield such a high caliber camera, I was worried that it would be overhyped, that I would be like everyone else. But…once I used it for the first time I forgot all about my insecurities and fell in love with the Leica M3. This camera is glued to my shoulder when I leave the house. It comes everywhere with me as long as the sun is out. There is no Leica without the Nikkormat. The Nikkormat started this. It taught me that there is a process to learning. That asking questions is how we evolve and get better. I was never one to ask questions until I found something that I was determined to be good at, to be great at, to be exceptional at. I never asked questions until I found something that I wanted to do without any outside influence, something I was doing purely for me, something I was doing when I was just pretending to do it. 

The Nikkormat changed the way I view the world. Without it, I am not the man I am today. I am deeply grateful for this camera coming into my life and shaping who I am. Nikkormat, I thank you. 

With love and gratitude, 

Oswald