The Online Photographer

Should You Love Your Camera?

I wrote last Sunday about one of the dilemmas of "Stuff"—a nice stereo turntable I have that should be perfectly adequate for me but that I just don't love. It's a common enough dilemma. Naturally, I get questions all the time from people about cameras—which camera they should buy, whether they should upgrade, whether one decision or another is justified.

I was going to say that I go back and forth on this issue, because when I was doing more actual photography I was of the conviction that the camera was just a tool and that I was entirely results-driven. That was before I realized that simple, utilitarian, and often plain "tools" were what I loved. As I've ascended (?) into middle age, I'm becoming more tolerant of gearheadism. (After all, look at how many people experience their photography interest through the tools—for many, it's just cameras, and little else. And what's wrong with that? It's not hurting anybody.) I now tend to encourage people to find equipment they love, and can be proud of (in whatever way and for whatever reason), and enjoy using. Even to the point of jettisoning something that's "perfectly adequate" but that they just don't really love, in favor of something they feel good about.

I could go on and on and on about this topic, and you know how I can go on. But what's your take? Should you love your camera? And do you? Take the poll.

Opinion Polls & Market Research

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Mike

Featured Comment by George: "I am a director of photography (video and film) as a profession. I do a lot of photography as a hobby. Most of my cinematographer friends have the same passion for photography, also as a hobby. We were chatting about gear-lust and found that we are all very passionate about our still camera gear: one friend has a Leica M8 and $20,000 worth of Leica glass. I run a Canon system with 'L' lenses (and a Leica M6 with a mix of Leica and Voightlander lenses). 

"We noticed that we have zero gear lust for film and video equipment. We buy whatever tool gets the job done for maximum profitability. There is no passion whatsoever. If I were to get a show that I would need a Panasonic HPX3000 HD camera on ($45,000), I would get one with zero emotion. It is a tool. Nothing else. However, I am still in love with the 50mm Summilux for my Leica I bought for $900 three years ago...because it equates with fun, not work.

"It comes down to if the gear is used for work, all the purchases are business purchases. You buy what you need for the job at the highest quality/price ratio your business can afford. For hobbyists, the gear you buy is a reward and a toy. Because it is purchased for fun, there is a lot more passion involved in acquiring it."

Featured Comment by Craig Arnold: "Photography is two separate but related hobbies. One is all about the equipment and the process, the other is about the aesthetics of the images you produce. Craft and art if you like. It is perfectly possible to be very good at (and indeed enjoy) one and not the other. Sometimes people are good at both.

"It seems to be a thing that follows gender too, it's much more likely to find a man who is good at the gear stuff and rubbish at the art, but the reverse is usually only true of women. And of course it's much harder to master the latter than the former.

"To whatever degree I can I try to enjoy and work at both sides, but simplifying the gear sometimes helps me concentrate on the art."

Featured Comment by Amy S.: "I voted 'sometimes it’s one, sometimes it’s the other.'  I loved my Minolta SLRs, DSLR (7D), and lenses...and had to learn to give up some of that love when I switched to Nikon and bought a D200 last year. In giving up great ergonomics I had to treat the Nikon as a really good tool—that was highly functional although not lovable. It’s sort of like being in an arranged marriage. Over time I’m developing an attachment to some components (primarily the Nikkor 85mm ƒ/1.4D lens)—and maybe someday there will be a sort of love—but probably nothing like the relationship I had with my Minoltas. I’m now learning to use the very, very capable D300...but I can’t say that I love the camera. It’s an effective means to an end. Still, my preference is to use tools that I love. I’ll pay more for that luxury. However, it’s not always an option.

"I’ve loved my Macintoshes, though (128K, IIcx, G3 Pismo, 12" PowerBook G4, and Dual G5 PowerMac). It’s easy to be passionate about Macs. At work, the PCs are merely tools.

"Bicycles and cars are the same way. Some are OK for transportation...others I love. I’ve owned both kinds.

"If someone ever makes the DMD, I suspect I will fall in love with that camera."

Featured Comment by Al Benas: "Yeah, I love my camera (it is and has always been a Nikon, but that's not important). I am reminded of an old flyfishing adage about a "favorite fly." It's the fly you loved at first sight or tie; it casts better, drifts better, and it catches more fish, anywhere. Everyone's is different, so what's magic about it? Why, it's confidence. That love translates into confidence. You are comfortable with it, you no longer have to think about the mechanics of casting, stripping and 'playing.' Your right-brain takes over and you just become one with the water and its inhabitants. You just fish better.

"I don't have to think when I have my favorite camera/lens package attached to my eye. I can just see and react and, hopefully, create."

Featured Comment by Eric Ford: "I tend to go through three phases with new cameras. The first phase is the 'infatuation,' when I'm excited about the new gear and what I can do with it, and having fun just trying to master it. Phase two is the utility phase, when I know the camera so well that I don't think about it anymore, I think only about how to get the pictures I want. Not surprisingly this is when I'm generally the most creative and achieve the best results. The third phase is sentimentality, when the camera is showing its age or I'm itching for a new one, but I just feel all warm and fuzzy about the old machine and the memories I had with it, so I can't bring myself to sell, even though I should. That's the closest thing to 'love' I ever feel for a camera, but I wouldn't call it that."

New MJ Column on Photo.net

Seems like a day for birthdays. I'm happy to report that I'll be writing a monthly column on Photo.net, starting today. A lot of you probably remember my old "Sunday Morning Photographer" column at The Luminous Landscape. My friend Michael Reichmann, the larger-than-life Internet legend who was generous in giving me my space there to begin with, was also generous in letting me share the content with other sites. Eventually, "SMP" was appearing on Steve's Digicams, Photo.net, and—translated into Polish by my friend Lukasz Kacperczyk—on Fotopolis.pl, the largest photo website in the Polish language (I still write monthly for Fotopolis, always expertly translated by Luka, who recently became a new dad). Although it was written intermittently and had no consistent focus, "SMP" was surprisingly popular. We believe that at its peak, it was probably seen by something like 80,000 people a week, give or take thirty thousand or so (a big swing, but it's very difficult to estimate such things accurately in cyberspace). I gave it up in 2005 to start a print newsletter, which quickly went under but then morphed into the free website you're reading now. (Call it the Blind Squirrel theory of endeavor.)

The new Photo.net column is called "Johnston on Photography." The first number, called "Maturity in the World of Digital Photography," is up now. As before, the columns will all be listed on an Intro Page, most recent first. I intend it to be a home for longer articles that don't quite suit the gestalt here at T.O.P., and I'm hoping to give it a definite slant: assuming I can get the cameramakers and lensmakers to help out with equipment loans, I hope to write often there about optics and fine lenses. Although these won't be "lens tests" per se, I'm hoping I'll be able to find things to say about top-tier lenses that people will find interesting and useful. (Or at least entertaining). That will begin with a bang next month; the next two columns will talk about the SMC-Pentax 35mm ƒ/2.8 DA Macro Limited and the Zeiss Distagon T* 28mm ƒ/2 ZF/K lens.

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Mike

The Duck is Two

Happy Birthday to The Duck, the world's only photographer cartoon character, who turns two years old today. He's getting famous now (syndicated in more papers all the time, seems like). We'll be proud to say we knew him when.

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Mike

Right Place, Right Time

Veteran surfing photographer Kem McNair was busy doing what he does—shooting surfers—when he caught sight of something through the viewfinder he'd never seen before. It was a spinner shark, jumping clear out of the water right behind two surfers. Of course, he had to defend himself against suspicions of Photoshoppery. (But I wonder, will he Photoshop the shark out when he presents the pictures to his clients? Just kidding.) See the pictures and video at his website.

__________________________

Mike (Thanks to Kem)

Featured Comment by Tom Clifton: "I had a similar shot this past spring. I was shooting a red-shouldered hawk that was flying around. I finally got it in focus and squeezed off a few shots. When I uploaded the shots, I discovered that one captured a crow dive-bombing the hawk. I never saw the crow in the viewfinder."

(Tom on flicker)

Around the Web on a Thursday

Fifty-nine is a lot
I'd like to briefly observe that the word "creative" is bandied about with great abandon these days on arts and crafts forums all over the web—but often detached from its literal meaning, or with its literal meaning relegated to some lower strata of gray theory.* In which context, it's good to remember from time to time that the primary meaning of "creativity" is creating or producing something. So I'd like to be seen standing on my stump here applauding for the 59 people who successfully completed books at sofobomo. I'm tremendously impressed that a full 59 people managed to complete their projects. A number of the successful authors' names I recognize as frequent or occasional T.O.P. commenters, which is also a pleasure. Anyway, no further comment, but congratulations to all the bookmakers for their commitment and, yes, creativity.

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Good Pixels Go Big: Canon EOS 1Ds Mark III and Genuine Fractals
Sharpness in the extreme. From Diglloyd.

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Not a photography show, an art installation

"Take a look at this picture. It's a view of the front window of the legendary—and now long-gone—Dubrow's Cafeteria on King's Highway in Brooklyn, N.Y., shot from the street by Marcia Bricker Halperin in 1979. The reflections on the window—cars, signs, a checker cab—seem to mingle with the patrons inside the cafeteria. A couple of guys kibitz in the back; an old woman seated by the window clutches her check and stares quizzically out at the camera. It's a beguilingly complex image in the tradition of classic black-and-white street photography.

"Like the picture? Join the crowd. It was the top choice (from among 389 images) of 3,344 people who participated in the Brooklyn Museum's odd experiment in curatorial crowd-sourcing, 'Click! A Crowd-Curated Exhibition....' "

READ ON at slate

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Well I'll be
If you've been reading these virtual pages for a while now, you probably remember my little notice about the death of an old friend—I'm talking about the meltdown of my ancient Sunpak 150.  Well, I have no idea how timely (or, more likely, not) this intelligence might be, but I recently discovered to my delight that Sunpak is back in the monolight business that they were out of for several years, and there's a brand-spanking new, cheap, and sleek Sunpak 150 out now—this one called Platinum, which I guess is supposed to either mean it's good, or it's celebrating its twentieth anniversary.

Many of you will be reading this and thinking, who gives a crap? Since you no doubt work with far more sophisticated lighting equipment on a consistent basis. Others of you will be reading and thinking, who gives a crap? Because you've never owned or used an off-camera stand-mounted flash and have no interest. To the latter group, I'll just say that you'd be very surprised how easy it is to use a nice monolight—there's really nothing to it, especially with a digital camera—and you'll be equally surprised at how useful such a thing can be, for all sorts of things from portraits to Ebay product shots. Although if you already have a high-quality on-camera flash you can probably do everything a monolight can do with a light stand or two, an umbrella, and a sync cord. Anyway, my new Sunpak is on the way, so I'll review it...well, someday. Out with the old, in with the new.

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Could this fool your ten-year-old?

Honest to god, who could possibly look at this picture for fifteen seconds and not see it's a blatant Photoshop job? To me it looks like something that should appear on Photoshop Disasters. Yet apparently  it fooled many of the best picture editors in America. Somebody needs to wake up and use their eyes.

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More proof that I'm a curmudgeon

I'm a little late with this one, since Wimbledon is already over (won by Spain's Rafael Nadal in an epic five-set match), and these have gone back to being grass. Artists Heather Ackroyd and Dan Harvey discovered that grass grows a lighter green where it receives less light, so they projected negatives on panels of growing grass. These photographs (for that's what they are) were then exhibited opposite the ticket line at Wimbledon, for the enjoyment of the idling throngs. Gradually, in daylight, the images slowly disappeared, as the light-starved lighter shades received enough sunlight and the panels reverted to a uniform green.

So why does that make me a curmudgeon? Well, my first thought when I first saw this was not, "Wow, cool, grass prints!," but, "Mmph, they could have chosen better pictures." Whew I'm old.

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Editors needed all over
The web really makes me chuckle sometimes.

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More proof that I'm an alien
The Associated Press is reporting that "now that they're born" and hence susceptible to being photographed, the double-zygote neonates of two movie stars known en pair as "Brangelina" could bring as much as $11 million to the lucky (and no doubt, um, brazenly persistent) celebrity photographer who manages to land the first snap of the wee doublets. I shall say again, eleven million dollars. Which raises the excellent question, how can so many people possibly care?!? For that much money to be in the offing, there have got to be a lot of people who care. And that, I am afraid, I cannot comprehend. I do not find within me a scintilla of interest as to what these babies look like, unless they share the same head or one of them happens to have a hoof instead of a hand. How can I be so different than so many other human beings? I wonder. Perhaps it's because, absent atypical defects, I think I already know what the little boogers look like—pretty much like every other scrunchy-faced little fresh-popped rugrat. No, I'm sure they're adorable. Next topic.

On the other hand, one can kinda see what keeps the Paparazzi hopping. For $11 million, I'd let Lindsey Spears run over my foot. Come to that, with that kind of coin on the table, I'd take the pictures of my own kids and sell 'em myself, if I were Brange or Elina.

And so it goes, around the web on a Thursday.

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Mike  (with thanks to Eolake Stobblehouse, Carl Siracusa, and John Camp—some of the rest of these items were suggested by multiple readers.)

*"All theory, dear friend, is gray, but the golden tree of life springs ever green." —Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, from Faust

Featured Comment by David A. Goldfarb: "The Diglloyd image is very sharp, but it's still a picture of a building leaning backward, even if it's made with a $3900 lens on a $7900 camera. Let's see, a new top end 150mm ƒ/5.6 Apo-Sironar-S is about $1000, and since we're pretending we have deep pockets, we could get an Arca-Swiss 4x5" F-Metric with a collapsible rail for $4700 (though a second-hand Sinar F or F1 would do just as well for about $500 or less), and what the heck, let's toss in $500 for odds and ends like a light meter, filmholders and such (figuring a tripod is needed with either camera for optimal results). That leaves $5600 for a lot of film, processing and drum scans to do the job right with even more sharpness and detail."

Mike adds: Some guy—what was his name?—wrote an article in the current issue of Black & White Photography magazine talking about something similar. Right—it was me. Like David, I think there ought to be a mini-bandwagon in the photo-hobby kingdom for this particular hybrid imaging method.  It might not be super convenient, but it is fun, and it's a way to get superb detail, superb dynamic range, and tilt-shift image geometry into a Photoshoppable and inkjet-printable monster-sized file for much less money than top-end digital. The key is cheap (relatively), good scanners like the Epson V700. I was all set to try some 4x5" color neg on the V700 when it...broke. There's always the fly in the soup, isn't there?

Featured Comment by KEithB: "The Iranian missile photo is on Photoshop Disasters."

Random Excellence: Robert Holmgren

"Since 2005 nearly the only camera I’ve used is a cheap toy camera—the Holga. With a plastic lens, single aperture, and guessed focusing, I produce pictures that hope to triumph over these limitations. Whenever I’m asked why I take pictures with a cheap plastic camera I find myself giving an answer something along the lines of, ‘Well, aesthetically I’m conceptualizing an alternative to the dominant form of image capture vis-à-vis the digital realm.' The reality is closer to ‘I don’t know,’ but the answer likely to be somewhere around the same reasons that people fix up old cars, brew their own beer or play the ukulele. It’s low art with outsized dreams. For my purposes I busy myself with the simple practice of looking at the real world, imagining it as a photograph, applying the craft of photography, and delighting in what comes of that. Simple pleasures." 
-                                                                                        —Robert Holmgren

Toy Camera Dreams: Photos by Robert Holmgren and Joe Reifer
Lucky Juju Pinball Art Gallery—August 1–31, 2008
713 Santa Clara Ave, Alameda, CA [Map]
Opening Friday, August, 1st from 7–10 p.m.
The art show is free; play pinball between 6 p.m. and midnight for $10

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Mike (Thanks to Joe)

It's Still a Vision Thing

By Ctein

In my last column on this topic I talked about how we see tones. This time it's about detail.

For a start, let's consider the canonical 8–10 line pair per millimeter (lp/mm) that folks like to toss out as the limit of human visual resolution. That number is simultaneously misleadingly high and low.

To begin with, those experiments were run on young viewers with good eyes under optimal viewing conditions and illuminance, at a standard close focusing distance of about 1/2 meter. Change any of those conditions and the numbers go down. Poor lighting in particular makes a big difference. So does an inability to focus that close. Under many conditions that are normal for viewing photographs, you really can't see more than five line pair per millimeter. (Conversely, higher visual acuity or closer focusing ability can up those numbers.)

But...

There's a big difference between our ability to resolve closely spaced line pairs and our ability to detect edges. You can easily see a distant phone line that is several times smaller than the resolution limit or stars that are thousands of times smaller. Add in "vernier acuity:" that's what lets you use a caliper or micrometer and tell when the index lines are out of alignment by even a small fraction of the engraved linewidth. We're very good at picking up edge qualities.

Take two resolution bar targets, one of which has sharp-edged bars and the other of which has very fuzzy-edged bars. One can resolve about the same amount of fine detail in both sets of targets, but even at the limit of visual resolution most people will readily be able to pick out the former target as "sharper" than the latter. Even though they're not seeing any more fine detail, they are responding to the transition at the edges—acutance, not resolution.

That means eyes are sensitive to spatial frequencies about three times finer than what they can actually resolve, and experiments bear that out. Take two matched 8x10 prints, one of which resolves 10 lp/mm and the other of which resolves 30 lp/mm. Ask folks to pick out the sharper one. Invariably they can, although if pressed they'll be unable to point out any specific detail that is different.

Visual resolution versus acuity. These two sets of radial bars (you might want to click on the image first to open up a larger version, and pardon the jaggies) have very different edge characteristics. Human vision picks up on that, even at the limits of resolution. Step across the room from your monitor and look at this image. You should be able to resolve about the same level of detail in both targets (the point at which the bars merge into a gray central disk), but the target on the right should appear a little crisper even near the finest level of visible detail. That's your eye picking up edge characteristics well beyond the resolution limit.

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This is why a print from a sheet film negative looks sharper than one made from a well-made 35mm negative, even though that 8–10 lp/mm number says the big negative shouldn't have a marked advantage. Similarly, I have tested inkjet printers that can reproduce in excess of 15 lp/mm and ones that reproduce 8–10. The naive number says there shouldn't be a noticeable difference in side-by-side comparison prints. Experiment proves otherwise.

On the other hand, small differences in readily visible detail (coarser than 8 lp/mm) are not detectable even in side-by-side comparisons. You can't see a 10% improvement in resolution; around 15% is the plausible limit. The difference won't become particularly noticeable until you hit 25–30%.

This has bearing on the pixel horsepower race in digital cameras. There's little point to trading in your camera for one that has 25% more pixels unless the overall image quality is better for other reasons (tonality, color, dynamic range, better optics or signal processing, or proven substantially-better resolution). You would be hard-pressed to see a sharpness difference because of the raw pixel count. If you're not making at least a one third to one half jump in the number of pixels, save your money.

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Ctein

Open Mike: Journey Through the Past

I'm going to take a little detour this Sunday morning into one of my other hobbies, jazz....

Well, not jazz exactly. Specifically, the gearhead side of audio. I think it relates to a couple of questions that have come up here on T.O.P. in the past few days.

To begin with, I thought I'd explain the origin of the "Befriend a Forgotten Camera Challenge," which has borne its very earliest fruits already. A day or two before I posted that, I bought a new toy.

Well, an old toy, actually. And not literally a toy. Here's what it was....

READ ON

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Mike

Gone Fishin'

Friends, sorry about the low volume of new postings from me in the last few days (and thanks to John and Carl for stepping in with their contributions). After two and a half years of cruising along perfectly happily here on TOP, I find I'm suddenly in need of a few mental health days. I don't know why, but I'm feeling frazzled and discombobulated and can't seem to shake it off. If you will please indulge me, I will take a short hiatus and will be back in a few days.

-                                                                                                        —Mike

Lee Friedlander in Minneapolis

By John Camp

The Minneapolis Institute of Art has just opened the massive Lee Friedlander show, originally organized several years ago by the Museum of Modern Art. I don’t know how many images are in the show (hundreds, at least; I didn’t count them) although the MIA website says something about “500 images and publications,” and the accompanying catalog mentions “764 plates.”

In any case, it’s too many. While the variety of prints on show are presented as a comprehensive survey, with the lesser photos demonstrating development between the major pieces, the fact is, the sheer number of photos tends to diffuse their impact.

You can’t “see” the masterpieces. Most of the photos, both good and not-so-good, are printed fairly small, so you’re forced to look at all of them: and 500 or 700 is too many. So, you tend to browse, skipping over those that already have a viewer planted in front of them. On a scale of one to ten, here’s a ten, and there’s an eight, and over here’s a two, skip one, then back to seven, and, twenty minutes later, another ten.

You leave wondering what you missed, and what you should have given more time to. To me, it seemed like the curators simply yanked the Friedlander file out of the stacks and stuck it on a wall. I would have preferred a more aggressive selection process—although I may be in a minority in that preference.

Nevertheless, the show is a must-see for Friedlander fans, and seemed to be attracting fairly good crowds to the museum.

Getting a grip
Friedlander is a photographer who I never quite got hold of, which is one reason I was so eager to get to the show, and why I’ll go back again, probably several times. But after the first trip…I still don’t have much of a grip.

On the drive home from the museum, it occurred to me that most great photographers, or those represented as great, have a particular passion which they approach with photography—anything from, say, the wilderness (Adams), to social or psychological investigation (Evans, Frank or Arbus), to war and conflict (Nachtwey) to small-scale still life (Sudek.)

Friedlander’s passion seems to be photography itself, rather than any particular external interest.

As you walk though the show, you’re struck by the number of fields that he worked in: portraits, self-portraits, landscape, nudes, street life, architecture, still life. In my view, each one of those fields, except possibly self-portrait, has a contemporaneous practitioner who showed a deeper feeling for the subject than does Friedlander. (His self-portraits are so unflinching that you do repeatedly come back to them.) On the other hand, I can’t think of anybody else with his range.

There are undoubtedly other people on this forum who know more about Friedlander than I ever will, and who appreciate him at a deeper level, so I’ll leave the review at what I’ve already said.

Size isn't everything...but it's something
However, one other aspect of this show really jumps up and bites you on the butt: too many photographs, including Friedlander’s, are printed in sizes that are too small for contemporary tastes, walls, and museums.

A Richard Prince show currently at the Walker Art Center, also in Minneapolis, features “appropriated” photographs, most notably, the Marlboro Man. Prince has taken commercial advertising images and manipulated them somewhat—mostly in size—and presented them as his own work.

Whatever you think of that, I can testify that presenting very large, very high-quality prints of images that previously were seen in small format magazine sizes, or in newsprint, does make a significant difference in the way you feel them. Some of the appropriated cowboy shots are stunning—and I wasn’t stunned when I saw them as advertisements.

Raw size, it seems to me, has become a critical aspect of art photography. The current aesthetic would say that you must go big, or risk being ignored. The Prince show demonstrates that; and the Friedlander show re-emphasizes that fact, because it’s so basically drab in presentation.

Images that seem have been intended for close-up inspection in a book, with a good light, are now hanging from walls that are far too large for the images, in light that’s not so good. There’s a scale disconnect that I feel fairly strongly. In an effort to ameliorate this problem, the museum presents most of the pictures in small groups, as though trying to increase the impact. Doesn’t work.   

Paintings have always been scaled for their intended installation space (big for churches, small for the bedroom or dining room), but even the largest Friedlander prints would be rather small paintings. Not so with Prince: his appropriated prints grab you by the shirt and introduce themselves.

(There’s a word game in here somewhere: Prince prints, as opposed to non-Prince prints, etc., but I’ll let that go.)

There are a few larger-scale prints in the Friedlander show: most notably, his nudes, which feature the models’ distinctly luxuriant pubic hair: and that is literally in your face.

A chicken on a junebug
One final note. I had a Nikon D300, not a small camera, dangling from my hand when I went to the show. I often do when I visit the MIA, because the museum explicitly allows photos of its collection. I was unsure about a traveling collection, however.

I looked, saw nothing restricting photography, and though there were guards everywhere, nobody said anything as I wandered through the exhibit, the camera in plain sight. Also, I admit, I didn’t ask, in case photography wasn’t allowed, figuring it was better to apologize after the fact, than be forbidden before the fact.

Then I took a photograph and one of the guards was on me like a chicken on a junebug. “No photography,” she snapped. “Didn’t you hear me?” She’d apparently said something when I lifted the camera to my eye, but I didn’t hear her, because I’m hard of hearing, and my hearing aids don’t always do the job with women’s voices.

(God works in mysterious ways.)

I gotta say, though, that it seems ridiculous to forbid photography of a bunch of photographs that are behind glass, in only-fair lighting conditions, when the museum is flogging a high resolution 764-plate catalog to anyone who wants one…To say nothing of restricting photographs of the photographs taken by a man who spent much of his time making unauthorized photographs…Ah, well.

Anyway, I took the photo not to duplicate Friedlander’s work in any way, or even to show it clearly, as much to indicate how the show is hung—having suggested that the display is essentially boring, I thought it a good idea to demonstrate what I mean.

I’m not sure Mike can use it, because if not a poisoned fruit, exactly, it might be a little bruised. That’s up to him to decide.
________________________

JC

Mike adds: As you can see, I'm fearless. Let them sue. Turnip-blood-suckers.

ADDENDUM: Speaking of Richard Prince, here, compliments of PDN, is Prince's latest victim, National Geographic's Sam Abell, talking about the experience of having a photograph of his "appropriated" (a nice word for "copied") as haute art. To me he seems measured but somewhat stunned. (Thanks to Micah Marty for the tip.)

   

SMC Pentax DA* 200mm f/2.8 ED[IF] SDM Review

By Carl Weese

We all know what long lenses are for. To "reach out" to distant subjects and "bring them closer." Except, this isn't really so. A lens that is long for a given format simply isolates a small detail of the view in front of the camera (called the "angle of view," in this case a narrow one), when compared to a lens of normal length. Of course this does mean that you can fill the frame with a relatively small subject from a relatively long distance. This is vital for photographers who want to make pictures of subjects that are difficult to approach closely, like wildlife or sports action. Since I don't tend to photograph those subjects, and since I like to work up close to the people and things I do photograph, I work almost exclusively with normal or moderate wide angle lenses.

However, there's another use for long lenses, which is to photograph a perfectly ordinary, approachable, subject from an unusually distant position. This does some really interesting things to the look of a subject, and to the way it relates visually with foreground and/or background elements.

Spring Trees, Kent, Connecticut

While I seldom use moderately long lenses (sometimes called "portrait length"), I've always had a soft spot for a really long but hand-hold-able lens along the lines of a 300mm ƒ/2.8 for 35mm film format. So, some weeks ago when the Pentax elves from Golden, Colorado, asked if I'd like to try out their newly introduced 200mm ƒ/2.8 (for APS-C sensor size), I jumped at the chance.

Power Lines, Torrington, Connecticut

The first thing I noticed out of the box was that the build quality and materials of this DA* (say "dee-ay-star") lens is first rate, seemingly in the same league as their "Limited" lens line. The next thing I noticed was how a lens of this type really makes the APS-C sensor format shine. This is a hefty amalgam of glass and mechanicals, but compared to the equivalent 300mm ƒ/2.8 lens I had years ago for my film Nikon cameras, this lens is diminutive. It fits easily into any tall compartment/section of a typical shoulder bag. Also, while they certainly aren't giving it away, the cost is a fraction of what an equivalent lens for "full frame" or FX format will set you back. I think that's important because it means that someone with tastes similar to mine just might be able to find room in the budget to acquire this lens while the expenditure for its "full-frame" avatar would simply not be justifiable for a lens you use only once in a while.

This is the first Pentax "SDM" lens I've had a chance to use. That's their term for high-tech motor-in-the-lens autofocus technology. So the second thing I noticed about this lens was that the focus mechanism is so fast it's startling. There's no way I could possibly spin the manual focus ring and move those big pieces of glass that fast, much less stop on a dime at the correct distance. Even so, another nice thing is that a lens this long and this fast is really easy to focus manually, even in an APS-C viewfinder. Believe it or not, there are plenty of situations where I really prefer to focus manually and the relative difficulty of doing this with short, slow, lenses is perhaps my biggest gripe with the APS-C format. As with all recent Pentax digital lenses, if the camera is set to single AF you can instantly go manual—for a single shot—simply by twisting the manual focus ring, without having to throw any AF-to-MF switches. The lens features IF (Internal Focusing) so in either auto or manual focus the lens shows no external change, neither in length nor rotation, as you focus through the range.

The third thing I noticed was a problem with this particular sample of the lens: a major front focus error. At a distance of ten yards or so the plane of focus is off by a couple of feet. It was obvious the moment I looked at my first test exposures on a monitor. Luckily, my K20D has the feature of user-accessible AF correction for individual lens types. Luckily again, the entire amount of available correction was just enough to set the camera/lens system perfectly. But to use AF on any Pentax prior to the K20D, this particular lens would have to go straight back for service.

With that, let's get to my only other negative comment on this lens, which is that it sometimes displays more flare than I'd like to see, despite its well-designed deep lens hood (which reverses for storage). This is a little tricky to analyze because the pictures we tend to make with a lens this long can pack a lot of air between the photographer and the subject. Spring and early summer in New England are not known for crystal-clear atmospheric conditions, and compressed haze can look a lot like flare. But it became clear to me that in very bright conditions, and especially if brilliantly lighted objects are in a deeply out of focus background, the overall image can be degraded by non-imaging flare density. Often this can be quickly remedied with a liberal application of the Contrast and Black sliders in ACR, but it's a problem that could once in a while ruin a potentially good picture. I doubt that this is a sample problem but more likely results from less than ideal suppression of internal reflections by the lens coatings.

Back to fun stuff:

Poppies, Washington, Connecticut

These poppies at a friend's wildflower garden could have been photographed with any normal, or macro, or short-tele lens, but there's something really different about making such a narrow-angle view from a couple yards away with the 300mm-equivalent focal length. As with the other illustrations here, the shot was hand held. I set the controls for C(ontinuous)AF and Auto-Select and just watched as the system snapped the focus point around when I changed framing.

I was curious how auto-everything-AF would handle "action" and took the lens to a couple of parades. Obviously, the auto-select mechanism will sometimes choose the "wrong" focus point, meaning simply "not what I would have chosen." But for the most part it seemed quite clever, generally favoring closer objects in the scene but without obstinately grabbing for the nearest possible point. Given that the mechanism is faster and more decisive than I can be turning the focus ring myself, I suspect in terms of general average success rate the camera would beat me with moving subjects, despite sometimes picking the wrong focus point. I also tried using S(ingle)AF with S(elective) focus point. On the Pentax you can move the selected point around with the navigation buttons on the camera back. So, for example, as you spot a potential picture and realize the part you want to focus is left of, and below, center, you can thumb the West and South navigation buttons as you aim and the lens will snap-to on the selected spot as you half-squeeze the shutter release. With enough practice, I think I could learn to use this approach well enough to beat the auto-everything success rate. You can see some of these trials over at my Working Pictures blog archives [May 28, June 4].

Memorial Day, Naugatuck, Connecticut

This was a situation where I was glad that manual focus is so smooth and decisive with the D* 200mm ƒ/2.8. Auto-select AF would have been hopelessly confused by all the figures in the foreground, and the sergeant's face did not fall at any of the 11 AF points the way I wanted to frame the picture. On top of that, since she was not standing at attention, she wasn't holding perfectly still, while everyone else was moving around a lot. Manual focus was the simplest way to get the shot. It's worth noting that the file is extremely clean and flare-free despite the harsh overhead sunlight. It takes much worse conditions than this to bring on the flare mentioned earlier.

I haven't said anything to answer the perennial question "but how sharp is it?" Well, earlier this week I delivered two pictures graphically similar to the one at the top of this post, prints interpolated up to 16x24" image area. The response, from a client looking at them right up close, from reading distance, was, "look at the detail!" It's sharp enough.

_________________________

Carl's website 
Working Pictures
WPII

So What Did You Think of Fred?

-                                                 Fred Herzog, Old Man Main

In my post called "Great Photo Books You Can Buy New" a couple of weeks ago, one of the recommendations was for Canadian Fred Herzog's book Vancouver Photographs, available exclusively from Amazon Canada, and the response from you was so great that it helped drive Vancouver Photographs temporarily to the #1 spot on the bestsellers list on Amazon.ca (It's now #2,273).

So I'm just wondering—assuming some or most of you who bought the book have received it already, what did you think?

(Feel free to comment here on any of the other recommended titles you might have purchased, too, or gone to see. I'm interested to know which ones you really liked and which ones might just have been more of a Mike thing.)

_______________________

Mike

Featured Comment by Ben Johnson: "As a Vancouver photographer myself, I've been interested in Fred Herzog's work for some time now. Aside from admiring his strong images with wonderful colour, I also see much of his work as a record of a Vancouver that has all but disappeared: a sleepier city of the Commonwealth rather than a city with strong ties to the Asia-Pacific realm.

"His show at the Vancouver Art Gallery was hugely successful and, along with the publication of the book you recommended, really boosted Herzog's reputation internationally. It's interesting to see him get attention from people who are perhaps less familiar with Vancouver, but who see the quality in his work.

"Herzog was always a perfectionist about his equipment. I know folks who worked in camera stores in Vancouver who dealt with him on a regular basis. He had the reputation of one who would buy a particular lens and return it over and over until he got one that performed exactly as he wanted. Staff in the stores would have bets on how long it would take him to return a lens once he walked out the door."

Featured Comment by Wayne Bartsch: "I have known Fred for over thirty years. I work at a local camera store where we have sold him much of the equipment he uses or has used. He has always been quiet and soft-spoken but very definite in what he expected of his camera gear and photography. We have had many interesting discussions over the years about the areas in which the camera companies could have made better choices. I remember him lamenting the lack of a truly capable compact film camera suitable for his style. I also recall him having trouble finding a satisfactory version of a Nikkor lens(a 24-120 I believe). He brought in images that demonstrated the difference between the first and second one. I could not see the difference but he could and that is what counted.

"It is only in the years since his retirement from medical photography that I began to realize the scope and the beauty of his  personal work. I saw his show twice and enjoyed it immensely. He gave me a signed copy of his book which is one of my all-time favourites. Well worth purchasing to anyone liking this style of work."

Go Where You Wanna Go, Do What You Wanna Do

Ctein, Moon and Fireworks, Vancouver EXPO, 1986

By Ctein

The Fourth's a-coming. Surfing the cyberwaves I came across some interesting and entertaining material on photographers' rights. I provide links below along with some excerpts of the content that I hope will entice you to read the entire articles. This is stuff all photographers should know.

Now, keep in mind that legal rights are not the same as authority or instrumentality. You may have the legal right to do something but that doesn't mean someone else lacks the capability of bully, coercing or threatening you into stopping. The 98 lb. weaklings might have the law on their side, but that won't stop the 200 lb. thugs from smacking the crap out of them.

I applaud anyone who wants to stand up to the bullies, but I don't disparage those who are disinclined to do so. You want to volunteer to take a bullet for the cause? Yer aces in my book. But, I'm morally opposed to conscription.

http://www.salon.com/tech/col/smith/2006/02/10/askthepilot173/index.html
Click the "enter salon" button in the upper right corner to get past the ad to the article

The million-dollar questions are: Is it a violation of law to take photographs at airports? And under whose jurisdiction does the matter fall?

"No, it's not against the law," says Anne Davis, a Transportation Security Administration (TSA) spokeswoman. When asked about jurisdiction, Davis describes TSA as the overseer of all airport security matters, including the supervision of local law enforcement. "The buck stops with us," she says, adding that the agency has no specific policy with regard to picture taking, other than asking people not to tape or photograph screening apparatus.

Phil Orlandella, the media relations director[:] "Who controls security, TSA or the local police?" he says. "They both do, it's that simple. And no, it's not against any rules to take pictures, inside or outside, period. If anyone tells you otherwise, that's a bunch of baloney."

He warns that yes, individuals snooping around with cameras might be approached and questioned, but photography itself is fully within a visitor's rights. "A passenger is free to take any picture he or she wants," he says, "in any public area of the airport, end of story. If you're not deemed a threat, you're free to click away."

http://www.usatoday.com/tech/columnist/andrewkantor/2005-12-29-camera-laws_x.htm
http://www.usatoday.com/tech/columnist/andrewkantor/2006-08-11-photography-rights_x.htm
And yes, you can shoot on private property if it's open to the public. That includes malls, retails stores, Starbucks, banks, and office-building lobbies. If you're asked to stop and refuse, you run the risk of being charged with trespassing, but your pictures are yours. No one can legally take your camera or your memory card without a court order.

You can also shoot in subways and at airports. Check your local laws about the subway, but in New York, Washington, and San Francisco it's perfectly legal. Airport security is regulated by the Transportation Security Administration, and it's quite clear: Photography is A-OK at any commercial airport in the U.S. as long as you're in an area open to the public.

http://www.answerbag.com/q_view/395284
Is it legal to take photos? A set of Q's, A's, and useful links.

http://www.rcfp.org/photoguide/
What every cameraman, photographer and videographer should know about invasion of privacy standards in the 50 states and D.C.

Have fun, play safe, make trouble, don't blow up anything I wouldn't blow up.

________________________

pax / Ctein

Is Full-Frame the Coming Thing?

In the wake of the introductions of Nikon's first two "full-frame" (FF) (~35mm sensor size) cameras, to add to Canon's two, the internet is awash in prognostications that "full frame is the coming thing" (or "the whole market is moving that way" or one of several other common phrasings).

And that might be true...unless it isn't. It's equally possible that 35mm-size (~24x36mm) sensors will end up as an historically momentary diversion, an evolutionary dead-end; or a constant but smallish niche. In which case(s), full-frame won't have been the coming thing.

So which is it?

Impossible to tell. I mean literally impossible: the uncertainty is epistemologically absolute. No one knows what the future is going to hold in this regard.

That doesn't stop it from being a fascinating question.

The way I see it, there are two aspects of FF that bolster the case in favor of its future. One is its remarkably persistent popularity. I don't think it's true that what the market wants, the market gets. But it's probably true that what it really really wants, it gets.

And so far, the market (or at least a large enough subset to absorb the current FF offerings at an enthusiastic pace) appears to really really want FF.

I confess I personally misread this four and five years ago or so. I don't shoot with long lenses, but I've been working for photo enthusiasts for twenty years, and for that whole time I've observed the lust of the typical amateur enthusiast for long lenses. Everybody always seemed to want bigger and faster superteles. What I misread, I now think, is that I always assumed amateurs liked long lenses because of the pictures they could make with them—that is, they wanted narrower and narrower angles of view, for critter and sports photography and for that essentially voyeuristic kind of shooting that's equivalent to spying on the neighbors with a telescope. All of which seemed to be styles of photography that were perennially popular.

I now think that that was essentially wrong. What amateurs most wanted long lenses for was not for the narrow angles of view, principally, but for the prestige and pride of ownership of owning really big, impressive, expensive lenses. I thought the smaller 4/3rds and APS-C sensors would be seen as a huge advantage by all those tele lovers out there. 4/3rds, for instance, means that you can achieve the same angle of view with a 300mm lens as you used to get with a 600mm on 35mm. Since 300mm lenses are smaller, lighter, faster, and cheaper than 600mm lenses, that's all good, right? Well, it would be if what you were after was a narrower angle of view for the same focal length. But of course if the appeal of the 600mm lens is precisely that it's big and heavy and exclusive and confers great status on its lucky, rich owner, then the 300mm lens is not better.

I overestimated the utilitarian aspect of long-lens popularity and underestimated the status aspect. (Come to think of it, this might qualify as a persistent error on my part: I consistently assume that photography enthusiasts are more interested in pictures than they in fact are. But never mind.)

Depth-of-field issues were similar. For a hundred years, photographers bitched about limited d.-o.-f. Part of the rationale of the famous Group ƒ/64 was widely understood to include front-to-back sharpness as an aesthetic goal. Not having to suffer limited d.-o.-f. was always part of the allure of faster films, artificial light, and smaller formats.

...Until APS-C, that is. Then, photographers started a chorus bitching about the exact opposite! "I can't achieve selective focus unless I have full-frame," yadda yadda yadda. Some of these complaints came from people who actually knew what they were talking about and actually meant what they said, but in general such comments make me want to knock heads together. Set the zoom a little longer or move in a bit, fer Pete's sake. Aperture and format size aren't the only means of controlling d.o.f. (To say that typical photographers don't understand d.o.f.—either theoretically or in practical terms—is a massive understatement. And that's never going to change.)

Grump, Jr.
But enough of that. What's the other appeal of FF? It's that it matches well with existing camera technology—and existing camera technology also appears to have a very entrenched appeal. I've opined elsewhere that one of the great disappointments of the digital age thus far is that, after all the creative furor of its cradle period, digital has settled right back down to where camera design was in 1990—to a norm of Wunderplastik SLRs and dinky point-and-shoots, the exceptions being few and far between (some of the exceptions being the same exceptions that existed then, at least in terms of form—even down to a virtual replica M6, only digital this time). I was expecting, and certainly hoping, that digital would open up whole new vistas in camera design, and create whole new categories of cameras. Some of them I've even defined myself (the "DMD," I mean), to little effect. That very much appeared to be starting to happen back in the early part of this decade. But then it fizzled. The market might or might not be infinite in its wisdom, but it sure as hell is conservative!

When considering the "FF" question, for instance, the fit with 35mm camera body styles and existing 35mm lenses is the only thing that answers this question: why not bigger than 24x36mm? If bigger is better, why stop at 35mm size? Without a horizontally-traversing filmstrip to accommodate, the sensor can theoretically be any shape. Square makes the most sense of all the rectangles as far as lens coverage is concerned. And the square has two other big advantages as far as camera body design goes: it eliminates the need for "vertical grip" positioning, with all the redundant controls that add expense to battery packs and pro bodies now; and that, in turn, opens up viewfinder options.

You could argue that when using legacy lenses and flange distances, a square mirror wouldn't clear if it were too big. Right, but then what prevented the 24x24 format? Nobody tried that. Apart from the mirror issue (and I'll be waiting for the post-reflex-mirror era, like some pundits are awaiting the post-Bayer era), is it really that much harder to make, say, a 30x30mm sensor than it is a 36x24mm one?

I guess I'm fundamentally a grump* when it comes to this question. The Nikon D700 is a wonderful development from a digital-sensor viewpoint: its sensor, which is 70% of the point of the camera, is clearly a beaut. Tried 'n' tested, ably spec'd, very well established as fodder for enthusiast lust, and state-of-the-art in several performance parameters. Let me make myself perfectly clear: not complaining. (Really, okay?) BUT...(there's always that but)...from a camera design standpoint, almost nothing has changed in a decade; the D700 is a digital F100.

So why isn't Olympus making a whole range of point-and-shoot, and pocket, and rangefinder cameras around the 4/3rds sensor by now? Whither Canon's pellicle mirror as a digital solution? Where is the luminance-only sensor? Where is the larger-than-FF integral DSLR? Where are the square-sensor cameras? Where's the DMD? (The DP-1, nice though it is, meets the DMD spec in only a couple of ways, and misses the concept by a country mile in several others.) Where's the digital TLR? (The serious one—yes, I know about the mini-Rollei clone.) Where's the RD-2? The pro cameras with good viewing-screen only VF? Why doesn't the E-3 look just like an E-1 (the latter a brilliant design, I thought)? Why couldn't the D700 have been the size and shape and body material of an FM2 (or, heck an S3), and more clearly a single-shot camera, so as not to compete with the D3?

Where's the creativity?

I hope it's happening, and just hidden in the dens and warrens of the camera company engineering departments. I'm sure those guys doodle at least as much as I do. Maybe someday a few newthink designs will see the light of day, without the "wise" market spanking 'em on the ass for not being the same ol' conservative same ol'.

Digital is obviously a lot more than just camera design. But, folks, camera design is stuck. Think rut, think sticky mud. Think hysterical screams of I will only buy exactly what I've bought before only better. Camera design is stuck. And only as long as it stays stuck will the concept of "full-frame" continue to make so much sense. 

Will that be forever? Okay, maybe. Will it be long enough for FF to dominate the whole DSLR market? Possibly, I guess. Will FF dominate over APS-C even if camera design stays in 1990 mode? Hmmph.

I'm sure you have your opinion. Of course, the answer is: nobody knows.

______________________

Mike

*David Vestal will always be the original grump. I'm just stealing his word.

Michael Reichmann's initial thoughts on the D700

Ken Rockwell on the future of Nikon FX and DX

Thom Hogan on Nikon's second FX body

ADDENDA: First of all, thanks for all the great comments (66 as I write this). I could have plucked any number of them out as "Featured Comments" but really, it's just fun to wade in and read them all. A few additional stray thoughts from me in no particular ranking of importance:

• I actually am not writing primarily about myself in the above post. Personally, I'd probably prefer FF, all other things being equal, simply because I've had problems with lenses in the digital era. Cameramakers in general are no longer updating standard medium-speed single-focal-length lenses, which are the type I prefer. I most naturally "see" in the 35mm-40mm-e range, and 28, 35, 40, 50, and 85mm-e is the extent of the range I use. There just aren't a lot of very good options in these types of lenses in reduced-sensor-size product lines that can really get the best out of the sensors. What do I want? Just a modern, optimized-for-digital and optimized-for-the-format 35mm ƒ/2 or 40mm ƒ/2 equivalent for either 4/3rds or APS-C, not too big. Easy enough to find in legacy versions for FF, virtually non-existent in digital versions for reduced-size sensors. (A few things come close.) What's more, the prospects of getting them in the future don't appear to be good at all, either. So I'd be better off in FF digital than I am in APS-C digital. (BTW, the combination of the D700 and the Zeiss 35mm ƒ/2 ZF lens is going to be killer, mark my words.)

• Related to the above: again, something I've written about in the past: as an analyst, my primary concern is not "what would be profitable for the cameramaking companies," but "what would be useful for photographers to do good work with." So sometimes when I hanker for specific products, I'm not actually suggesting that such products would make good business sense, necessarily. Just that they'd be useful to photographers. A different concept, I admit. Hey, I have my loyalties.

• It's true that there is something historically almost magical about 36x24mm. There have been numerous attempts to move away from it in both directions, especially smaller, and no matter how much "sense" they might make, 36x24mm just forges ever onward, continuing to exert its magic pull. Ironically, the tiny sensors used in digicams are probably the most robust departure from 35mm size in more than half a century. But maybe the resilience of "FF" is due in part to the fact that it really is a great compromise size, very versatile, a sort of convergence "golden mean" when many competing factors are all considered together.

• I also can see peoples' point about the form-factor of the 35mm SLR being a highly developed and well-optimized basic design. That doesn't really change my position on two important issues, both of which I've written about before more than once: 1) that there is currently a "fashion" that dictates that good cameras have to be big and small cameras have to be compromised (i.e., "entry-level," cheapened), and I'd love to have options that break this tyranny, even if the basic fashion continues unabated—specifically at least a few (more) choices of really high-quality, premium cameras that are small (the M8 does qualify). 2) I really do think that some more creative options would be wonderful to have. Specifically:

• The "DMD." I need to revisit this topic on TOP, but basically, a camera the size and shape of a Canonet with, say, a 4/3rds sensor and a fixed 20mm ƒ/2 lens (or an APS-C sensor and a 25mm ƒ/2 lens), made to be highly responsive for single-shot use. This has been, is, and will continue to be a no-brainer. Something like this is needed by many photographers. I'm frankly astonished it still doesn't exist. Cameramakers have so far made one attempt: the Sigma DP-1. Kudos to them, although the actual camera Sigma made was something quite different than I describe. The refusal of all other companies to make something like this doubtless reflects factors I'm not privy to, probably led by the belief that such a product would not be profitable. We still need it. I concede that it's possible that there are technical impediments, although I find that hard to believe. If you can believe this, I actually proposed to Apple that it make such a camera and market it as the "iCamera." It fits their pared-to-essentials aesthetic. No response, but it was interesting to see that several other people suggested that Apple should make a camera.
• The Coolpix 950 was a nifty design. Why is it gone? In general, the digital camera market hasn't even been true to the best designs of its own incunable period.
  
• Picture an intelligent melding of the Sony F-717 and R-1, with a square sensor and IS. Beautiful.
• Luminance only (i.e., B&W): Another topic I visit and revisit. We had it briefly with the Kodak DCS 760m, and reportedly there was going to be a B&W version of the Leica M8, which was killed by that executive they later fired. There really are significant technical advantages to having a luminance-recording sensor as opposed to converting color Bayer arrays back to B&W. Maybe this would not be profitable or even viable from a business standpoint, but it's a type of product that a subset of the photographic community would find useful and desirable.
• Alternative rangefinders to the M8. It's great that the M8 exists (even though I'm not a particular fan personally), so perhaps we should be grateful for what we have. Given its popularity, it's certainly a great deal better than nothing.
• There's one more camera I think we really could use that we don't have, but I need to write a whole post about it.
• ...And I'm sure other people have other ideas. But the point is that there ought to be room for a few things other than the ubiquitous Wunderplastik SLR. Even if said Wunderplastik SLR is "perfect" and doesn't need to be improved, itself.

• An idle final thought, something I touched upon in the main post. For several years, people have been saying (into their beer, mainly) that it would be nice if Nikon made a digital FM3a. Wouldn't that have made a great form-factor for the D3 sensor in a smaller body? (Even if it were polycarbonate and not metal.) Forget high frame-rate, forget the battery pack, forget all the AF wizardry and focus tracking and all that pro stuff. People who want that could just buy the D3. Just a manual-focusing, single shot little SLR with a great viewfinder and the FF, 12.1-MP sensor from the D3 for people who want the image quality. $2k instead of $3k. And it wouldn't have poached sales from the D3 one iota.

...And it would probably have sold 1/10th as much as the D700 will sell, which would be bad except for the fact that the people who bought it would probably have liked it 10 times as much.

You can see why I'm not a camera company executive. —MJ   

Nikon D700 is 'D3 Lite'

Nikon has announced the D700, a camera that has seemed so logical that it's been widely anticipated ever since the professional D3 came out last summer—a smaller, lighter camera with the D3's super-duper full-frame DX 12.1-MP CMOS sensor. The new camera is just slightly larger than the D300 in size—5.8x4.8x3" (WxHxD) vs. the D300's 5.8x4.5x2.9, and appreciably but not excessively heavier—1,073g (~38 oz.) with battery vs. the D300 at 903g (~32 oz.) with battery. The D3 is 6.3x6.2x3.5 and 1300g (~46 oz.) with battery.

The D3 has reportedly been a striking success for Nikon, facing demand so strong that Nikon was obliged to increase production significantly over initial targets. The D700 is set to sell initially for $3,000 in the U.S.

Start-up time and shutter lag are identical to the D3; frame rate is 5 fps without, or 8 fps with the optional battery pack, which also takes AAs. The viewfinder, at 95%, .72x, and 18mm eyepoint, is very close to that of the F100 film camera (96%, .76X, 21mm), which will seem amazingly great to most DSLR-only shooters used to DX finders. The shutter is a full professional type tested to 150,000 cycles. Viewing screen is 3" and the latest high-resolution type. The D700 supports the latest UDMA flash cards, is weather sealed, and has live view.

Also announced were a dedicated flash, the SB-900, and two professional PC-E shift lenses, a 45mm and an 85mm, that will be of limited interest to most amateurs and hobbyists.

Major features and specifications at Nikon's World site

_____________________

Mike

Featured Comment by Ben Marks: "If this camera has the same sensor as the D3, I can tell you that it was a game-changing camera for me. My images from the D3 are the first digital ones I have made that did not make me regret that film has receded into the dusty background with 8-track tapes and roller skates with metal wheels. Don't get me wrong, I have a freezer with several thousand feet of the stuff, but the sensor on this camera can do some amazing things. True, I do pine for the occasional roll of Ektar 25 print film...but in general this sensor is da bomb."