This document provides a briefing on the key themes, observations, and practical advice presented in the provided excerpts from "Hanoi on 12 Frames a Day" by Kiribane Photography. The author recounts the experiences photographing in Vietnam, primarily focusing on Hanoi, using a medium format Hasselblad camera with both film and digital backs. The narrative emphasizes the chaotic and vibrant nature of street life in Hanoi and offers insights into street photography techniques and philosophy in such an environment.

Main Themes and Key Ideas:

• Vietnam as a Sensory Overload and "Visual Opera": The author immediately establishes Vietnam, particularly Hanoi, as an intensely stimulating and visually rich environment, far removed from typical notions of "serene lakes, poetic pagodas, and warm people." They describe it as a "full-blown visual opera," characterized by "scooters, soup, incense smoke, spontaneous kindness, and a level of street life density that makes central Manhattan look like a spa resort." This chaotic energy is a dominant theme throughout the excerpts.

• The Challenge and "Bargain with Fate" of Street Crossing in Hanoi: A significant and memorable aspect of the Hanoi experience is the unique method of navigating traffic. The author notes, "Crossing the street in Hanoi is not so much walking as bargaining with fate. There is no “gap” in traffic. There is only movement." The crucial technique is to "move as if you’re not afraid to die," acknowledging the underlying fear. This provides a vivid metaphor for navigating the city's overall intensity.

• Street Photography as Allowing Moments to "Find You": The author challenges the conventional idea of actively seeking photographic "subjects." Instead, they propose that in Vietnam, "you don’t find moments – they find you." This reflects the spontaneous and dynamic nature of the environment, where interactions and photographic opportunities arise unexpectedly.

• The Welcoming Nature of Vietnamese People Towards Photographers: Despite the author's prominent camera and distinct appearance ("tall, pale, and carrying what looks like a small toaster oven"), they experienced a surprising level of acceptance and even engagement from locals. Children interacted with the camera, and adults were generally welcoming, highlighting a key element of successful street photography in this context: human connection.

• The Discipline and Philosophy of Shooting with Limited Frames (or like Film): Even with a digital back, the author consciously chose to shoot as if limited by film ("I shot as if I were on film"). This constraint is presented as a "survival technique" but also a philosophical approach, leading to "restraint," viewing "Every frame was a ceremony," and a focus on thoughtful composition over rapid-fire shooting. The author believes "12 thoughtful shots are better than 1200 “maybes.”"

• The Contrast and Adaptability Required Across Vietnam's Regions: The journey south to the central highlands and the Mekong Delta reveals a stark contrast to Hanoi's intensity. These areas are described as slower-paced and more tranquil, requiring the photographer to "Adjust your rhythm to the region – don’t photograph silence like it’s noise." This highlights the diverse nature of Vietnam and the need for flexibility in photographic approach.

• Photography as Capturing "Mutual Recognition" and the Value of Imperfection: The author emphasizes that a photo is more than just an image; it's "a tiny moment of mutual recognition, frozen in silver (or sensor)." They also acknowledge the beauty and truth in "Missed moments aren’t failures. They’re part of the rhythm," suggesting that perfect timing isn't always the most authentic representation.

• The Importance of Physical Prints: The author advocates for printing photos, stating, "You’ll see things on paper you never noticed on screen." This speaks to the tangible and enduring quality of a physical print.

• The Role of "Time You Give" as Part of the Photographic Tool: Beyond the camera itself, the author identifies "the time you give" as the other crucial half of the photographic tool. This suggests that patience, observation, and immersion are as vital as technical skill.

Most Important Ideas/Facts:

• Hanoi's intense and chaotic street life is a primary characteristic. This significantly impacts the photographic experience and requires a different approach than more serene locations.

• Crossing the street in Hanoi is a unique and risky maneuver that symbolizes the city's energy.

• Authentic street photography in Vietnam involves allowing moments to unfold and embracing spontaneous interactions.

• The local population is generally welcoming and accepting of photographers, fostering opportunities for connection.

• Adopting a limited-frame mentality, even with digital, promotes thoughtful composition and intentionality.

• Vietnam's different regions necessitate adjusting one's photographic rhythm and approach.

• The act of photography is about capturing moments of connection and acknowledging the value of imperfections.

• Printing photographs offers a different perspective and appreciation.

• Patience and dedicated observation are crucial components of successful photography.

Relevant Quotes:

• "Vietnam is not just a country. It’s a full-blown visual opera..."

• "Spoiler: Hanoi is less ‘serene’ and more like if a wet market, a moped race, and a turbocharged espresso machine had a love child."

• "Crossing the street in Hanoi is not so much walking as bargaining with fate."

• "In Vietnam, you don’t find moments – they find you."

• "There’s no such thing as “blending in” when you’re tall, pale, and carrying what looks like a small toaster oven. But surprisingly, people welcomed it."

• "Even with the digital back, I shot as if I were on film. Restraint is not a virtue – it’s a survival technique when you’re hauling medium format in 35°C heat."

• "Every frame was a ceremony."

• "12 thoughtful shots are better than 1200 “maybes.”"

• "Adjust your rhythm to the region – don’t photograph silence like it’s noise."

• "A photo isn’t just a picture. It’s a tiny moment of mutual recognition, frozen in silver (or sensor)."

• "Missed moments aren’t failures. They’re part of the rhythm."

• "Print your photos. You’ll see things on paper you never noticed on screen."

• "the camera is only half the tool. The other half is the time you give."

• "surrender to the chaos."

Practical Photography Tips (Highlighted):

The excerpts also include numerous practical photography tips, presented as numbered "📷 Tip" sections. These are valuable for anyone considering street photography in similar environments:

• Use a strong, padded camera strap.

• Embrace looking "ridiculous" with your equipment.

• Keep the digital screen off for focus and mystique.

• Smile for better connection and photo opportunities.

• Accept invitations to stay and observe within a scene.

• Kneel or bend to photograph people sitting or crouching, showing respect.

• Limit your shots to encourage thoughtful composition.

• Use a waist-level viewfinder for less intrusive shooting.

• Set exposure before entering a scene for responsiveness.

• Prioritize patience and zone focus over wide-open apertures.

• Adjust your shooting rhythm to the pace of the environment.

• Take a step back to allow subjects to forget your presence.

• Trust your timing and embrace missed moments as part of the process.

• Print your photos for a different perspective.

• Understand that the time and observation you invest are crucial.

Conclusion:

"Hanoi on 12 Frames a Day" offers a vivid and insightful account of street photography in Vietnam, particularly within the energetic context of Hanoi. The excerpts highlight the overwhelming but ultimately rewarding nature of the environment, the importance of human connection, and a philosophical approach to photography that values intentionality and observation over sheer quantity. The practical tips provided are grounded in real-world experience and offer valuable guidance for photographers navigating similar chaotic and visually rich settings. The central message is one of surrendering to the chaos, embracing the unexpected, and recognizing the power of mutual recognition in the photographic process.

Springtime in 6x7: Analog Misadventures in Southern France

Episode Summary:

In this episode, we take you on a comically tragic analog journey across southern France — from sun-drenched Marseille to medieval Carcassonne and elegant Bordeaux — with nothing but a bag full of 6x7 cameras, a dream of cinematic street shots, and a deep sense of analog optimism.

Join us as we relive the highs and hilarious lows of shooting street photography with the Pentax 67 and Mamiya RZ67, two medium format giants that promise stunning results… in exchange for sweat, failure, and maybe a minor back injury.

From forgetting dark slides and misloading film to capturing the one perfect frame after thirty minutes of humiliation, this episode blends personal storytelling, practical tips, and self-deprecating humor for anyone who’s ever dared to shoot street with a camera the size of a brick.

What You’ll Learn:

• Why the Pentax 67 is more bench press than point-and-shoot

• How the RZ67 turns photography into a spiritual negotiation

• Why failure is part of the magic — and how to make peace with it

• Field-tested tips for analog street photographers who like to suffer for their art

Quote of the Episode:

Suffering is temporary, but a good 6x7 frame is forever.

Podcast Summary: “The RZ67 and the Bellows of Destiny”

Date: October 26, 2023

This episode explores one photographer’s misadventure using the Mamiya RZ67 medium format camera for street photography in Lyon, France. Dubbed “The Bellows of Destiny,” the RZ67 becomes both a burdensome companion and a transformative tool.

The story humorously highlights the camera’s massive size, operational complexity, and ritualistic handling demands — from forgetting the dark slide to mishandling lens changes. Street photography becomes an almost theatrical act with such an unwieldy machine, attracting attention rather than fading into the background.

Despite numerous frustrations, the episode celebrates the rewarding image quality and the deep personal connection the author develops with the camera. It becomes clear that the slow, deliberate nature of shooting with the RZ67 leads to a more mindful photographic experience.

The podcast balances technical insight, comedic self-awareness, and philosophical reflection, ultimately concluding that the pain and absurdity are part of what makes the RZ67 so special.

Key takeaway:

“No pain, no Pro400H” — a fitting summary of the love-hate relationship

👋 Welcome back to the only podcast where standing on a street corner staring at strangers is considered an artistic pursuit and not, you know, a cause for concern.

Today, we’re diving deep into the magical, mysterious, and sometimes downright ridiculous world of street photography. What is it, you ask? Well, technically, it’s photography that happens… on the street. Groundbreaking, right? But wait—before you pack your camera and head straight to the nearest pedestrian crossing, let’s expand the definition. Street photography can happen anywhere: parks, cafés, underground stations, inside a moving bus while pretending to check your emails (we’ve all done it).

Rule #1: There Are No Rules (But Also, Here Are Some Rules)

You’ll find countless articles and books telling you exactly how to do street photography—"Use a 35mm lens," "Get close to your subject," "Don’t overthink it." But here’s the thing: the only real requirement to be a street photographer is to take photos in public without asking for permission. That’s it. No secret handshake, no membership card, no formal initiation involving a Leica and a beret.

That being said, there are ways to shape your images without, you know, actually interfering. Want someone to look at you? Step into their path. Want a dramatic reaction? Raise your camera like you just spotted Bigfoot. Sure, you didn’t pose them, but let’s not pretend fate didn’t get a little nudge from you.

Social Media: The Place Where Originality Goes to Die

Now, let’s talk about the Instagram effect. Once upon a time, street photographers captured the unseen—raw, spontaneous, unfiltered moments. Now, we’ve all seen the same shots a thousand times:
✔️ A person in a red coat walking past a red wall
✔️ A moody silhouette in front of neon lights
✔️ Someone holding an umbrella like they’re in a noir film when in reality, they’re just late for work

It’s not that these shots are bad—it’s just that originality has been replaced by an endless loop of déjà vu. We’re all copying each other without even realizing it. Congratulations, we’ve created an echo chamber where creativity goes to hibernate.

Skaters, Street Photographers, and The Art of Avoiding Angry Pedestrians

Many great street photographers were once skaters. Coincidence? I think not. Skaters learn to navigate the urban jungle, anticipate movement, and most importantly, develop an unshakable resistance to being yelled at in public. When I started, I went full Bruce Gilden—wide-angle, in-your-face, flash-heavy. The reactions? Let’s just say New Yorkers aren’t shy about their opinions.

Later, I mellowed out, thanks to Saul Leiter and Ernst Haas. I swapped the chaos for color, form, and abstraction. I learned to see light the way a painter does. One moment I’m zooming in on textures with an 85mm, the next, I’m back to my wide-angle. Street photography is like a mood swing with a shutter button—you have to keep moving, evolving, and embracing the unexpected.

Final Wisdom: Don’t Take This Too Seriously

If you take one thing away from this episode, let it be this: street photography is what you make of it. You don’t need a fancy camera, an expensive lens, or a pretentious artist statement. You just need curiosity, patience, and the ability to pretend you’re texting while secretly taking photos.

Now go forth, roam the streets, and capture life as it unfolds. And if anyone asks what you’re doing, just say, "It’s art."That usually works. 😎📸

🎧 Hit that subscribe button, and we’ll see you next time for more unsolicited opinions on photography!

This storyline intricately captures the mystique of Krampus through the artful blend of visuals and poetry. The deliberate pacing of the images ensures that the zine unfolds like a cinematic experience, engaging the reader at every turn. Each haiku enriches the monochromatic frames with a layer of emotional depth, creating a balance between the visceral imagery and the reflective narrative.

The decision to bind the zine in **selbstgeschöpftes Papier** (handmade paper) is a testament to the dedication to authenticity and craftsmanship, mirroring the care taken in every aspect of the Krampus tradition itself. The zine’s tactile nature, coupled with the timeless medium of analog photography, evokes a sense of nostalgia while preserving the vitality of this ancient folklore.

Its progression—from the quiet anticipation of the village to the chaotic energy of the parade, and finally to the serene resolution under starlight—allows readers to experience the journey as if they, too, are standing in the snowy streets, listening to the clanging bells and growls of Krampus. This zine is not just a celebration of the Krampus tradition but also a love letter to storytelling through analog art forms. It will undoubtedly resonate with photography enthusiasts, folklore aficionados, and anyone captivated by the magic of winter’s tales.