My Story with Sigma

My connection with Sigma began more than two decades ago, around 2004. Digital photography was taking off, while film was slowly losing ground. Foveon was already developing its X3 sensor technology. At the time, I worked with 35mm, 6x7 medium-format and 4x5 large-format cameras.

I have to admit that I was something of a perfectionist. I chose medium and large format because I wanted the cleanest, sharpest results possible in the final print.

During that period, I was deeply involved in conceptual photography. To realise a single idea, I often had to photograph several elements separately and bring them together in the final composition. Each image required a great deal of preparation.

The process was exhausting. As soon as a shoot ended, I would rush to the photo lab and have the film cut and developed. I could hardly wait to inspect the negatives. Only then could I decide what came next: continue shooting, correct a problem, or move on to post-production. If the results were not good enough, I had to hurry back to the studio and start again.

Until I had made that decision, the props and models in the studio had to remain exactly where they were.

Film photography kept me running back and forth, with far too little to show for the effort.

Scanning the negatives presented another problem. A professional drum scan could produce excellent results, but it was expensive. Charges were calculated by the megabyte, starting at around ten US dollars. My own scanner could handle only 35mm film, and the files were soft and full of noise. They fell far short of what I wanted.

Ideas were coming to me constantly, and I was shooting almost one new concept every week. Yet the work that followed, especially developing and scanning, became a constant source of frustration.

I had two possible solutions. The first was to buy an expensive drum scanner and do the scanning myself. The second was to leave film behind and move into digital photography.

A professional drum scanner cost close to US$10,000. After thinking it through, I decided that it made little sense to spend so much on a technology already in decline. Photography was moving forward, not backward. It was time for me to move with it.

That decision led to another question: which digital camera should I buy?

Fortunately, there were not many choices then. It was nothing like today, with countless brands and systems competing for attention. Since my 35mm lenses were Canon, choosing a Canon body seemed the obvious thing to do.

Or was it?

At a photography gathering, I had the chance to try one of Canon's early digital cameras, the D60. The convenience was undeniable. I could take a photograph and work on it immediately at the computer, without developing or scanning any film.

But when I looked closely at the files, they were only slightly better than my scans. There was much less noise, but the sharpness still did not satisfy me. I tried the 10D as well, with the same result.

I did not know what to do. For a while, I seriously considered returning to film.

Then someone I knew online suggested a Sigma camera.

Sigma?

Wasn't Sigma a lens manufacturer? Since when had it started making cameras?

He told me the camera used a completely new kind of sensor. In simple terms, it had three layers to record colour, and it performed very well in both sharpness and dynamic range.

That immediately caught my attention. I went to Sigma's website, downloaded a raw file and processed it with the company's own software.

What I saw on the screen stopped me in my tracks. The sharpness and dynamic range were exactly what I had been looking for. I was eager to buy the camera, but there was one final test. However impressive an image might look on a monitor, the print would reveal the truth.

The nearest lab that could make A4 and 8x10-inch prints was about seventy kilometres from my town. I did not care. Still excited by the processed image, I drove there like a young man rushing to meet his sweetheart. I remember travelling at around 120 kilometres an hour for much of the journey.

It remains an unforgettable experience.

The print astonished me. I had never held a photograph so sharp in my hands. I made my decision there and then: the Sigma SD9 was the camera I wanted.

There was only one problem. I could not find a single shop in Malaysia that carried it, so I had to buy it online. I took out my credit card and ordered the camera from B&H in the United States. A friend in Taiwan helped me purchase a 24-70mm f/2.8 lens.

When the equipment arrived, I stepped out of the world of film and into digital photography.

I stepped out of the world of film and into digital photography.

Many people laughed at my decision. They thought abandoning Canon for Sigma was foolish. Some even mocked me to my face when we went out shooting together. I simply smiled and let them have their fun.

Sigma and Foveon's technology suited my conceptual work perfectly.

I began entering some of my photographs in international photographic salons. Perhaps the approach was fresh and the ideas were bold, but the work found favour with the judges. I won many medals, and eventually received more than a hundred awards and honours.

By then, the friends who had laughed at me were no longer laughing.

At Photokina in Germany in 2005, several Sigma users and I were invited to display our work at the Sigma booth. My photographs caught the attention of the late Michihiro Yamaki, Sigma’s CEO, and his son Kazuto Yamaki. They asked about the photographer behind the images. They were intrigued that someone using their equipment had produced so much work and won so many awards.

Later, an online friend gave me Kazuto’s email address. At the time, he was Sigma’s COO and would later become the company’s CEO. I contacted him. Our first few exchanges were polite and formal, and Mr Yamaki told me he was pleased that I had chosen Sigma products.

As I read his email, I had a strange feeling that my life was about to change.

I replied by thanking him and Sigma for making equipment that allowed me to create photographs I was proud of. Then, with no embarrassment whatsoever, I asked whether the company would sponsor my equipment. I even sent him a very long shopping list: a camera body, an ultra-wide-angle lens, a telephoto lens, batteries and even a cable release.

To my surprise, a photographer far away in the hills received a reply almost immediately. Mr Yamaki agreed without hesitation.

Three days later, a parcel arrived from Japan. It contained everything I had asked for. More than that, it carried Sigma's confidence and trust in me.

It was one of the happiest days of my life.

That was the beginning of an enduring relationship with Sigma.

Curiously, Mr Yamaki and I remained in regular contact by email, yet we did not meet in person until more than ten years later, when he came to Kuala Lumpur for the launch of the Sigma dp0 Quattro. That first meeting was deeply moving for me.

I remain grateful to Sigma for the trust and support it has given me over the years.