yNAK on Embracing the Limits of Film | OLYMPUS PEN FT | Knowledge #526

The cameras cherished by photographers—and the stories behind them. The idea of a “beloved camera” reflects each person’s outlook on life and individual values. In this installment of the series, we meet yNAK, a devoted user of the OLYMPUS PEN FT.

First acquired in response to rising film prices, the camera gradually became an indispensable companion. In an age dominated by digital photography, where results can be reviewed instantly, why does he still deliberately choose film? We trace the intensely focused time he spends engaging thoughtfully with every exposure—a way of working made possible precisely because the number of frames is limited.

Released by Olympus in 1966, the OLYMPUS PEN FT is a half-frame single-lens reflex film camera. Although it uses 35mm film, each exposure occupies half the standard frame, allowing a conventional 36-exposure roll to produce approximately 72 photographs.

When film prices began to rise, I became interested in half-frame cameras. That was when I discovered the OLYMPUS PEN FT. Today, it has become a trusted companion.

I grew up at a time when photographing with film cameras was the norm, but when I first became interested in photography, the first camera I picked up was digital.

Before I knew it, my computer contained an enormous archive of photographic data, and my library was overflowing with multiple shots of the same scene.
That was when a question suddenly occurred to me: “What was it that I truly wanted to photograph?”

The convenience and performance of digital photography are genuinely remarkable. Yet even as I appreciated those advantages, I felt that they were somehow at odds with the way I wanted to engage with photography.

The limited time I have between work commitments—and the time I spend photographing with film, a medium that requires both effort and expense—has become something special to me.

The wait for the film to be developed and the moment of discovering an unexpected result are pleasures unique to the medium. Experiences that cannot be measured by efficiency alone have reminded me of the joy of making photographs.

That is why, after all, I still love photographing on film.

I love the world as it appears through this camera’s viewfinder. Its vertical format frames a scene with the sensation of looking at a single poster.

An ordinary everyday landscape seems to become just a little more extraordinary the moment I see it through the viewfinder. To me, that feeling is part of this camera’s singular appeal.

Its compact size also makes it easy to take along whenever I feel the urge to photograph.
There is the tactile pleasure of setting the aperture and focus through straightforward controls, as well as the advantage of a half-frame format that yields twice as many exposures from a single roll. Every aspect of it suited my photographic practice perfectly.

For me, a “good photograph” is not necessarily one that is beautiful and sharply rendered.
Sometimes excitement causes camera shake, or the focus ends up slightly soft. But I believe those imperfections also reflect who I was in that moment.
Just as tears can blur the landscape before our eyes, a photograph can be slightly blurred as well. I feel that it captures not only the scene, but also the emotions I experienced at the time.

In terms of convenience and precision, this camera cannot compete with contemporary models. Even so, I continue to pick it up because it allows me to engage fully and intentionally with every frame.

Because the number of exposures is limited, I make each one count.
Because time itself is limited, I look more closely at the present.

Perhaps the camera captures more than the landscape—it may also capture the person I was, moved by that particular moment.