Camera Bar: When Camera Brands Were Drinking Buddies

The one-light master Zack Arias published a piece back in 2012 titled Camera Bar — essentially a glorified love letter to Fujifilm. Here’s my translation and adaptation of it. Enjoy.

Five Years Ago…

A distinguished old gentleman sat at the bar, silver hair impeccably styled, tailored suit radiating taste.

He had traveled the world and weathered countless storms. His beloved Morgan vintage car was parked right outside.

Nestled in his arms was a beautiful blonde, hanging on his every word as he recounted his adventures as a documentary photographer around the globe. He took a sip of 50-year-old Chivas Regal.

His name was Leica. Yes, the most charming man in the world.

In a corner of the bar sat Sony, Olympus, and Panasonic. They were deep into a heated debate about a new Dungeons & Dragons campaign.

Sony was clever and quick-witted, but a bit lacking in the looks department — awkward, clumsy even… but genuinely brilliant.

Olympus was the most stylish of the three, though he tried a little too hard. Endearing, absolutely, but sitting next to Sony and Panasonic, he didn’t quite come off as sharp.

Panasonic raised his beer. A single tear fell and dissolved into the glass — thankfully no one noticed.

He had just launched his Girlfriend No. 5 (Lumix GF5, released June 2012) and immediately regretted the move. He was squirming in his seat. Oh, how he missed the golden days of Girlfriend No. 1 (Lumix GF1, released September 2009)…

“You two do remember I’m the one who created all these fan girls, right? Remember?”

Sony and Olympus exchanged glances.

“Hey, at least we’re not as bad as those two jerks over there.” He gestured toward Canon and Nikon at the next table.

Canon and Nikon — those two old-timers — were locked in their perpetual argument. You could never tell if they were best friends, brothers, or mortal enemies.

Regardless, they showed up at the bar every single night, going at each other’s throats:

One bragged he was the better driver — so fast you couldn’t even see his taillights.

The other fired back, boasting about how many more girls he’d slept with at the 1984 Olympics (Canon sponsored the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics), then bragged about having the widest aperture (Canon released the 50mm f/0.95 rangefinder lens in the 1960s).

The one thing they could agree on: they were both sick to death of all the young upstarts flooding the bar lately, and if they could just “merge into one,” the world would be a better place. Also, don’t even mention iPhone or Instagram around them.

Just then, a young, handsome man walked into the bar, wearing ripped 501 jeans and a paint-stained shirt. A few ladies started to take notice. His name was Fujifilm. At that moment, Leica met his gaze — an expression impossible to read.

Fujifilm walked straight to the bar and ordered a classic British bitter. The bartender, PhaseOne, poured a perfect pint. Nobody could do it better.

And that’s where Zack Arias laid down his pen. But times have changed. The camera landscape today is unrecognizable.

Five Years Later…

Nikon is about to celebrate his 100th birthday, but lately he’s been weighed down by troubles, a bit dejected. He spends his days alone in a corner of the bar, drowning his sorrows.

His social feed, once lively, now has just a handful of sparse updates. Even so, everyone knows: when it matters, they’ll have each other’s backs.

“Hang in there, brother.” Canon patted Nikon on the shoulder, a gesture of comfort.

Just then, Sony slid into the booth. His expression didn’t look friendly.

Facing this new rival, Canon felt the pressure. Both were silently calculating their next move. Though they only drank in silence, the clink of glasses concealed the tension beneath.

Other than Nikon, these two were probably the most compelling spectacle in the entire bar.

Panasonic and Olympus weren’t saying much either, chatting idly.

In the old days, whenever little princess Pentax — born into a family of scholars — came to the bar in a foul mood to drink, they’d both tease: “Hey, still haven’t gotten a new car?” “Soon! Soon!” Pentax would blush the same shade of red as always. Over time, it became a ritual greeting.

Last year, Pentax finally got himself a full-time all-wheel-drive ride (Pentax K-1), though word has it he ended up in the arms of big brother Ricoh anyway.

Fujifilm made a big move at the end of last year, landing a high-horsepower muscle car (Fujifilm GFX 50S). He was buzzing with energy. It was clearly something that let him strut a little in front of the crowd.

Compared to five years ago, today’s Fujifilm carries himself with more confidence. His vintage jeans looked seasoned and stylish. He walked straight to the bar as always, flashed his car keys for everyone to see, and declared: “Now this is what it means to pioneer the future.” He then launched into a history lesson about the Meiji Restoration. Hasselblad, nearby, couldn’t bring himself to look Fujifilm in the eye.

Over on the other side, Sigma and Tamron were having their own heated debate.

If you stopped to listen, Sigma had the upper hand. He humbly gestured toward his Art series masterpieces and his arsenal of f/1.8 lenses, radiating pure black-tech swagger — especially the recent toys: 85mm f/1.4, 14mm f/1.8, 135mm f/1.8.

Sigma was low-key. And he worked damn hard.

Their argument wasn’t loud, but the subtext was unmistakable: “14mm f/1.8, 135mm f/1.8 — come at me if you dare.” It still drew over Sony and Zeiss, whose faint smirks said it all.

“A 135 f/1.8? Not bad, kid. But if I were to drop my prices, I wonder how popular you’d still be?” Zeiss smiled, deeply amused.

Sony, meanwhile, was stroking his FE 100mm f/2.8 STF, smiling but saying nothing. Sigma looked a little embarrassed — but held his ground all the same.

If these polite gentlemen represented tradition and humility, then the other end of the dance floor felt like an entirely different — more brutal — new world.

A gang of young money 📱 was throwing a party. Amid the glamour and excess, some were reveling, others fretting.

Apple was the undisputed star of the room. Samsung, meanwhile, was treading carefully after a certain explosive incident.

What warmed the heart was the presence of several dark-haired, yellow-skinned Chinese faces in the crowd. A young man named HUAWEI was brimming with drive, and had recently gotten cozy with the old gentleman Leica — mutual benefit, each taking what they needed. Good for them. vivo and OPPO, two brothers of shared blood, were slightly less recognizable. Lately, they’d both developed an inexplicable obsession with idol-chasing.

Xiaomi was the same, though his taste was often met with ridicule. Smartisan 🔨 was still in a corner of the bar delivering a stand-up act that “few could appreciate.” But under the pressure of a shrinking audience, he was starting to wonder if he should follow the crowd after all.

Meizu, moonlighting as the DJ, was a die-hard audiophile lost in his own concert, unreachable.

Taking advantage of the moment, Apple cleared his throat and uttered a few words: “7, is here.” He pulled out a black iPhone 7 Plus, and every gaze in the room locked onto it instantly.

“Oh, so you just added an extra camera.” HUAWEI shot back, then whipped out his own Mate 9 Pro. “Designed by Porsche. Leica dual camera. You’re welcome.”

Apple shrugged it off. Knowing his personality, these things were hardly worth acknowledging.

It got a little awkward.

That’s when the old gentleman DxO squeezed in to smooth things over: “Alright everyone, let’s not fight. After testing, the iPhone 7 scores 86 for its photo capabilities — sharpness, color, dynamic range. Solid performance.”

Samsung chimed in: “Yeah, yeah, my Galaxy S7 Edge scored 88. Stay tuned for what’s next!” After the whole incident, Samsung had indeed become a lot more cautious.

…

You could see it clearly: every single one of them was chasing color, wide apertures, dual cameras, bokeh, and the ability to shoot the stars. They had all long since become quite the serious photography enthusiasts. But the old-timers on the other side of the dance floor? They were laughing their heads off at these kids.

Then word came that the former big brother Nokia might be making a comeback. Everyone was still chatting and laughing. On the wall, you could faintly make out old photos of Motorola and Blackberry, but nobody paid them any attention anymore. How fickle the world can be…

Business at the bar hasn’t been great these past few years, but these characters keep holding onto their personalities, chatting away with undiminished energy. So, five years from now — who’s going to be the new center of attention? Let’s wait and see.