The Mamiya Experience – First Thoughts on a Medium Format Beast #7
I wasn’t planning to buy a new camera.
But then I came across it.
A Mamiya RB67 in great condition, at a price I couldn’t ignore. Medium format photography had been calling me for over a decade — and now, finally, I answered.
And let me tell you: I’ve rediscovered photography all over again.
The first time I held it, I was completely overwhelmed. Not just by the weight (this thing is no joke), but by how different it feels from the 35mm cameras I’m used to — and I’ve shot quite a few. Minolta, Pentax, Canon, Leica… but this is another world.
The Mamiya RB67 is slow, mechanical, and demanding. It asks you to be present. To pay attention. To know your steps — or at least to try: remove the dark slide, ready the shutter, advance the film, lift the mirror. It takes time to internalize the rhythm, but once you do, it starts to flow. And once it flows, it becomes deeply satisfying.
But the next challenge came quickly: shooting in the city.
There’s nothing discreet about this camera. Heads turn. People stare. It’s not built for spontaneous street photography — not for someone like me, who’s drawn to quiet, storytelling moments. So I realized early on: this camera has its place. It’s not for everything. But it’s perfect for some things — for landscapes, architecture, for stillness and intention.
So I loaded it up and set out with three rolls: two Portra 800s, one Ilford HP5 Plus.
Honestly? I had no idea what would come out. I’d seen plenty of example shots online, but I still had no real sense of how my images would turn out. The light wasn’t great, and I was still fumbling through the process.
But looking at the scans now, I’m satisfied.
The Portra tones are stunning. The Ilford has a softness I love, even if it lacked a bit of contrast (which I gently corrected in post). But more than anything, this first round of shooting reminded me of something simple:
Photography doesn’t have to be perfect.
It just has to be honest.
Holding the Mamiya forces me to slow down, to think, to mean every single frame. It’s frustrating. It’s heavy. It’s magical.
And I can’t wait to shoot more.
