It Kinda Clicked

My first camera was my Grandfather’s which was given to me after he passed away in 1981. It was a single-lens reflex camera with screw-mounted lenses and was manufactured in Dresden in the former East Germany and the brand was the legendary Praktica. Given its clumsy bulk, it came to be known jokingly as ‘The Brick’’. But I loved it. More so for its quirky differences than for any conformity to grace and style. A quirkiness exemplified by a shutter click that sounded like an extended ‘Ka-li-ckk’ as if to shout to anyone within twenty metres, ‘Yep, she’s just taken a photo’.

My Praktica was my trusty companion in life for two decades. It went everywhere with me and was a constant reminder of my Grandfather. I used the fabled Kodachrome 64 slide film and took many photos. Looking back on these photos I now realise that I have captured a longitudinal visual of my life and times.

One ‘captured’ historical event occurred in Hobart on 25 July 1986, it was ‘The Big Dump’, a rare snowfall which effectively shut down the city.

I woke early on the morning of The Big Dump to an eerily quiet city. Not a sound. No traffic, no bird-song, no hubbub of a work-day in Hobart. I peered out of the window and was confronted with a white-out. Overnight the city had received a dumping of heavy snow. I picked up The Brick, went outside and started photographing this unique event. These photos have never seen the ‘light of day’ until now.

I now take digital photos, usually via my phone, which is light-weight, the photos inexpensive and a silent click. Despite these technological advances, I occasionally run a film though my old Praktica, just to hear the legendary Ka-li-ckk one more time.