FujiEsqe
analog soul, digital heart
photographs made with early FujiFilm X-series bodies and vintage lenses.
low-tech, high-feel
FujiEsqe
in 2012, fujifilm gave us a camera that felt like film. we paired it with lenses from another era - zeiss, pentax, canon, soviet glass - and went looking for light. this is a collection of those quiet moments, where the gear disappears and only the image remains.
the philosophy
2012. Something shifted. Fujifilm, a company that had spent decades perfecting the chemistry of analog film, released the X-Pro1. It wasn't just another digital camera. It was a declaration: digital didn't have to feel clinical. It could breathe.
The X-Trans sensor was unlike anything else at the time. No low-pass filter. A color array designed not for sterile accuracy, but for something closer to memory. It rendered skin tones like Provia, shadows like Neopan. Straight out of camera, the JPEGs had soul.
But the real magic happened when you attached a lens from another era.
The Glass
There's a reason we reach for old glass. A Helios 44-2 from a Soviet factory in 1978. A Super-Takumar from Asahi's golden age. A Zeiss Jena with glass that remembers the war. These lenses have character-flaws, really. Swirly bokeh. Soft corners. Flare that dances instead of veiling. Chromatic aberration that paints the edges of leaves with violet light.
Modern lenses correct all of that. They're perfect. They're boring.
On a Fuji X-E1 or X-Pro1, with a simple $15 adapter from eBay, those old lenses come alive again. Focus peaking lights up the edges like a halo-green, red, blue, depending on your taste. You focus with your hands, not a motor. You feel the helicoid turn, the resistance of decades-old grease, the click of an aperture ring that's been opened and closed ten thousand times before you were born.
The Experience
Shooting this way is slow. Deliberate. You don't spray and pray. You compose, you wait, you breathe.
The early Fuji bodies help. They're small enough to carry everywhere, but substantial enough to feel like real tools. The dials on top-shutter speed, ISO, exposure compensation-they click into place with mechanical certainty. No menus. No scrolling. Just muscle memory.
And when the light is right-that golden hour glow through a Takumar's 58mm of Russian glass-the X-Trans sensor renders it like film. Grain, not noise. Colors that remind you of something you can't quite name.
The Ethos
Low-tech doesn't mean low-quality. It means choosing intentionality over convenience. It means letting the gear disappear, so only the image remains.
This is what Fujiesqe is about. Not pixel-peeping. Not specs. Not the latest firmware. It's about the moment when you forget you're holding a camera-when you're just seeing, and the camera is just recording what your eyes already know.
A 2012 sensor paired with a 1978 lens. Digital and analog. New and old. Together, they make something that feels timeless.
"A Japanese sensor talking to a German lens through a Soviet adapter. Light passing through glass ground by hands long gone, onto silicon designed by engineers who grew up shooting film."
- each image is a conversation across decades
about
I'm a photographer drawn to the quiet edges of light and time. Luckily, I've never chased the latest gear, the sharpest lenses, or the highest resolution. Instead, I focus on capturing moments that resonate with me.
In 2012, I saw the announcement of the Fujifilm X100. It was a risky time to invest-coming out of the global crisis that began in 2008. As a solo Creative Developer and Photographer, I decided to take the plunge and opt for its smaller sibling, the X10.
Unfortunately, like many Fujis I've owned, that one experienced fault - the infamous 'White Orbs' phenomenon. I eventually sold it, and a year or two later, I acquired a new X-E1. And so, my Fujiesque journey restarted.
Coming from a Nikon background, it was natural for me to use lenses with Nikon bayonet mounts. Silly me, I initially thought that with Fuji lenses would be the same. After some time enjoying Fuji lenses, I encountered a problem with the over-sensitive focus ring. I harbored a secret desire for a fully manual lens on Fuji body. Running a full-time a Boutique Design & Development Creative Studio, I lacked the time to explore all the possibilities of my camera, but I was eager to experiment.
Then, a good friend - an accomplished photographer in his own right, showed me his Sony with an attached Canon FD lens. Like I was struck by a thunder.
Soon after, I began searching for Fuji options and soon acquired adapters: M39, M42, Fuji X, Canon FD, Minolta MD, Contact/Yashica C/Y, Konica AR and other. I had some vintage lenses from the analogue era and found other online.
Starting with my X-E1 body and vintage prime lenses, it felt like shooting on film-yet it was all digital. This marked the true beginning of my Fujiesque style.
Fujiesque on-line project is a collection of those moments. Cameras that don't get in the way. Some camera dies. Glass with history. Light that still surprises me. No pixel-peeping, no lab tests-just images that feel alive.
- all photographs shot with early Fuji X-series bodies and vintage lenses, unretouched, straight from the heart.
contact
have a question, a story, or an old lens to recommend? i'd love to hear from you.
or find me on instagram: @fujiesqe