Last Photo of 2025

 

 

I am not a fan of cameras that fully depend on battery too function. There are two exception, though – Nikon F3 and Olympus OM-1.  While I have never had a bad Nikkor lens, the only Olympus Zuiko lenses that come close to vintage lens effects are the 50mm f1.8 and the 100mm f2.8.

That being said, I do own cameras that I rarely use given their dependency on battery, among then the Nikon FG and the Olympus OM-2n. Their acquisition was to complete my collection, and when I question why I have been stuck in the 1940s and 1950s with my all mechanical cameras, I go back, load the “newer” cameras with half a strip of film, and I become a bystander as these cameras do the metering, winding and other things on their own.

And when I print a few photos, I take the cameras back to the shelves they were sitting on for decades…

Few days ago I decided to take the Om-2n and 50mm Zuiko lens downtown for the last street photos of 2025. Since Om-2n is smaller than the true professional OM-1, I fitted my old OM-1’s winder to help me with steadier shots, and rolled and loaded about 6 frames B&W ASA 100 film strip.

Here is the camera and lens

 

And my travels’ challenges survivor winder with the tape still holding the loose battery compartment shut tight …

 

I chose one frame to print, as, under the loupe, the developed strip seems to have captured a story I wanted to capture. It was about a woman and a child setting up a children’s theatre on the sidewalk. The sun was perfectly transforming the woman into a fairy, and the dark hair of the child gave the contrast I was seeking.

After a bit of burning under enlarger, the photo emerged as an example of what a good lens and slow film can deliver – a delicate and unintrusive softness, depth of field, and enough mystery for different viewers to interpret.

But, there was also a surprise. When I looked closely to the printed photo, I saw a 5 dollar bill in the left hand of the child. I had not seen it in the split second I took the photo, or on the film strip under the loupe.

 

Wonderful! Now my last street photo of 2025 and first post of 2026 has a mystery and a story for each viewer to propose.

 

January 1, 2026

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2026