The Online Photographer

The Beats: Pictures of a Legend

The handwrtitten caption reads, "Jack Kerouac wandering along East 7th Street after visiting Burroughs at our pad, passing statue of Congressman Samuel 'Sunset' Cox, 'The Letter-Carrier's Friend' in Tompkins Square toward corner of Avenue A, Lower East Side; he's making a Dostoyevsky mad-face or Russian basso be-bop Om, first walking around the neighborhood, then involved with The Subterraneans, pencils & notebook in wool shirt-pockets, Fall 1953, Manhattan. Allen Ginsberg"

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By Edmund White, The New York Review of Books

Both Allen Ginsberg and William Burroughs discovered late in life that making works of art is the way to get money. Literature just doesn’t do it. Speaking engagements pay, but eventually they become tiring—or one exhausts the market. Neither of the two had ever been money-mad, but old age requires a bit of a cushion. Burroughs turned to painting. He would set up paint cans in front of blank canvases and then shoot at them; the splatter was the art. Although these paintings are his best-known artworks, they make up only a small part of his output: he did twenty-four shotgun paintings in 1982 and a few more before he died in 1997. According to his friend James Grauerholz, Burroughs turned out more than 1,500 artworks between 1982 and 1996—including stencils and targets, which were almost all brightly colored abstractions—and had his work exhibited in several museums and more than eighty galleries worldwide.

As Ginsberg said:

If you’re famous, you can get away with anything! William Burroughs spent the last ten years painting, and makes a lot more money out of his painting than he does out of his previous writing. If you establish yourself in one field, it’s possible that people then take you seriously in another. Maybe too seriously. I know lots of great photographers who are a lot better than me, who don’t have a big, pretty coffee table book like I have. I’m lucky.

Ginsberg had been taking snapshots of friends with a borrowed camera since the mid-1940s. In 1953 he bought a small Kodak Retina camera for $13 secondhand at a Bowery pawnshop, and for the next ten years he photographed all his friends and activities in a casual, spontaneous way...

READ ON at nybooks.com

Beat Memories: The Photographs of Allen Ginsberg by Sarah Greenough (U.K. link.)

David Emerick

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Featured Comment by John Camp: "Ginsburg (with whom I once had a protracted conversation shortly before he was arrested during a 1972 political convention in Miami, and shorter chats a couple of times) was really a pretty mellow guy, and not a bad poet, either. But, like most poets, he had to hustle for a living, and he did, and I don't blame him for doing it—even poets have to eat. Saying that his photos aren't so good is like saying Matthew Brady's photos of the Civil War weren't so good (and often not even Brady's)—but hey, they weren't making art, they were documenting history. Nothing wrong with that."

Featured Comment by Sporobolus: "Knowing Ginsberg's poetry, and having seen him perform it many times, I think makes it easier for me to appreciate his photos; it is not just random spontaneity that Ginsberg practiced (though some other Beats did), but a honed perception and celebration of the moment, in some ways like street photography at its best captures not just whatever, but something which opens us up a bit; and how the street photographer doesn't just walk to the street and start shooting, but they create a lifestyle and a way of thinking that leads them to their subject matter.

"So when reading his notes written on the photos (I have an old copy of Snapshot Poetics, published in 1993), I hear Ginsberg's voice and add my knowledge of the characters to form something much more than just the photo; though some of the images are great on their own, taken as a whole they are more consistently interesting; it's also worth noting what Ginsberg himself wrote about his intent, on the inside cover of Snapshot Poetics:

So what was my motivation to take these pictures in those days, apart from the fun while taking them? Well, I had a sacramental sense of these friends. Soon after I met Burroughs and Keruoac in '44, I realized they were people to learn from. Furthermore I was in love with them both in one way or another....

"So 'If you're famous you can get away with anything!' seems like more an expression of how Ginsberg exploited his cache of photographs, not why he took them in the first place; and it's worth noting that many of his photos were taken well before he was even slightly famous

"People often get hung up on Ginsberg's frank expression of his own urges and foibles; morally, i think he was essentially no different from the rest of us, except he devoted himself to not hiding his thoughts, and so he was much more honest than most; that is a good trait for a poet."

I Was Wrong...

Okay, I take back what I said about the new Pentax 35mm ƒ/2.4 yesterday. The thing is, Pentax needs a Limited DA 24mm!—badly. Badly. But I won't dwell on that. (Unless I just did.) The thing is, I was wrong about the new lens. Pentax is doing the right thing.

Exhibit One:

The new lens on the new K-r. This looks giant in the picture (ever notice how relative size just doesn't come through in online illustrations?), but it's going to be quite small and light in reality—the body weighs 21 oz. with batteries and card and the lens weighs just 4.4 oz. That's a total of 720g metric.

About the new K-r: its Mama was a K-x, its Papa was a K-7, and remember that old saying about how every new baby is an attempt to take the best of its parents and create a perfect mix?

Exhibit Two. I doubt all these colors will be available in the U.S. or U.K., but the colors are a clear indication that the lens is meant to be an alternative to a kit zoom on the K-r and K-x. That's the right move.

Exhibit Three: The commenters who said that the price of the lens needs to match the price of the camera. They're right.

As Chris Nelson said in the comments, "I think offering an inexpensive prime lens is a great way to get typical zoom consumers interested in the wonderful world of traditional photography. And, I wouldn't be surprised if this lens performs amazingly well." I wouldn't be surprised either.

So Pentax is encouraging K-x and K-r buyers to experience the pleasures of a matched normal prime that goes with those killer little cameras. That's a move I should approve of. I do.

And a final comment: ƒ/2.4 isn't really slow any more. We need to get out of that mindset, I think. In 1980—recent history for me, since I was alive and an adult then ("history" being anything that happened before you were born)—we didn't even have a truly decent 400-speed color print film. ƒ/2.4 is half a stop slower than ƒ/2, but from what I hear, the K-r will have such good high-ISO performance that shooting at ISO 1600 will come with very little penalty and faster ISOs will be feasible. So we lose a quarter from one hand and gain a dollar in the other; the balance is in our favor. Maybe not relative to the best DSLRs of recent times but certainly relative to the not-so-old film days when many still-current lenses were designed and made. Faster lenses are still nice, but they inevitably come with cost and size penalties that aren't always the right tradeoff.

Mike

ADDENDUM: Several commenters have noted a website that has published the block diagrams of the new lens and the old FA lens and that claims they're identical. Here's the post. The two lenses are certainly related, but they're not identical. Right away you can see that element 6 has a larger diameter relative to element 5 in the new lens, and both elements 2 and 5 have greater thickness in the new lens. Furthermore, the specs say that both lenses have 5 groups, and the reproductions of these drawings are so crude you can't even tell which group has the additional airspace—they both look like diagrams of 6/4 lenses. (I suspect elements 4 and 5 are uncemented.)

It's tempting to do so, but you really can't make predictions about lens performance based on cross section diagrams. (All you'd have to do to prove this to yourself would be to test a few of the great variety of  almost-identical lenses of similar types—say, Planar-types or Tessar-types.) Very subtle changes in the diameter and degrees of curvature and spacing can affect performance, and of course many factors such as glass type, coatings, and mechanical considerations (baffling, centering, aperture shape, etc.) don't show up in the drawing. Sometimes you can detect shared characteristics typical of design types, sometimes not so much. I am more comfortable evaluating the actual performance of specific lenses. In any event, I wouldn't read too much into crude JPEGs of drawings that show similar arrangements of elements.

Notice any similarity? One is a nondescript single-coated kit lens from the 1970s that can be bought on Ebay for $15; the other is one of the most famous—and expensive—lenses of its type available today.

Identical? Well, almost....

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Featured Comment by Wieland W.: "Regarding your addendum, although I agree with you in general, in this specific case I think you should consider the evidence. Please look at the attached image, in which the lens schemes are superimposed in a way to give the same size of the mount. The only difference is a slightly smaller diameter of the elements, which might be due to the reduced aperture."

Mike replies: I understand that. And the two lenses might be identical; the superimposition shows that I was...well, wrong. (How appropriate!) However, what I'm saying is that what we as photographers are interested in is performance, and similar or even identical cross sections are not always a predictor of identical performance. There are too many other factors that are also important.

I think it's wiser to wait for the actual lens, test or try it, and evaluate its actual results, rather than make assumptions based on the block diagram.

How To Make A Chapbook (Part I)

By Ctein

I made my first chapbook this summer, "First Snow, Minneapolis ~2009," as a gift for my True Fans (more on how that's going in two weeks). It's a form I've been wanting to use for some time; they're a great way for artists to express themselves. Chapbooks are not difficult to make, but there are tips which will make it even easier for the first-timer.

What is a chapbook? It's a pamphlet, usually paper-bound and center-stapled, containing a small, self-contained body of work by the artist. It's frequently used by poets for publishing a group of poems and by writers for individual short stories. For me it's a nice way to present a modest selection of photographs.

The front and back covers of my first chapbook, "First Snow, Minneapolis ~2009," 16 8.5 x 5.5" pages containing 15 4.5 x 6" photographs. Definitely not available through fine bookstores everywhere.

One of my Fans wondered if the name was a contraction of "chapter book"—a plausible hypothesis. The etymology's more interesting. The mid-1800's word originally referred to pamphlets sold and distributed by "chap men," itinerant peddlers and merchants. Chap, y'see, means to trade or barter. It's very old: the original form—"cyp"—goes back to the ninth century.

Another derivation from cyp became "cheap," as in a good deal or a bargain. That fits chapbooks to a T. Producing a full-blown book of work will typically consume hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars. A chapbook can be created with a few dozen hours work and, via computer magic, self-produced for a few dollars a copy. Such a deal!

How to proceed
First, decide on a format. I like four sheets of 8.5 x 11 paper, center stapled and folded in half, yielding a 16-page 5.5 x 8.5" chapbook. Depending on text, cover material, and white space, that allows for 12 to 16 4.5 x 7.5" photos.

Production details come next. For my clientele, obviously these should be be printed by me, although others might choose to go with commercial print-on-demand or small-run printing houses. For a signed and numbered edition of 200, doing my own printing was economical.

Printing on both sides of paper severely limits one's paper choices. Ilford Smooth Lustre Duo is a lovely paper that feels like heavyweight coated stock. It prints nearly as well as the true photographic inkjet papers; unfortunately it costs about $.65 a sheet, making for a more expensive book. Epson Premium Presentation Matt Double-Sided paper costs one third as much; it feels like high-quality heavyweight uncoated stock and, unfortunately, prints much the same way. Blacks are unconvincing and weak, entirely unsuitable for work that relies heavily on shadows. Otherwise, it's capable of better reproduction than you would normally see in a press-printed book.

I decided I to learn to work within those limits, halving the cost of the book.

Narrative flow
Having decided on form and the substance, one can look to subject matter. This is not your Magnum Opus. Just find a group of photos that entertains you and don't overthink it. My original notion, an excerpt from the Christmas in California or Final Frontier monographs, was clearly not going to work. Too large a fraction of the photographs in both volumes depend upon rich blacks. Fortunately, most photographs don't, and, as I discussed in last week's column on "Themes," it's easy for me to find groups of work within my photography that share a concept or exhibit commonality, even if that's not what I set out to do when I made them.

I've discussed how one goes about choosing the particular photographs for a book in "Every Picture Tells a Story."

Develop your narrative flow, decide what the front and back matter will look like and whether there will be any text (an artist's statement is nice but not obligatory). We're ready to print.

It took me a couple of days to learn how to make pleasing prints with this paper. I had to stop thinking of them as photographs and think of them as printed pages. Once I wasn't trying to make them into something they weren't it was a lot easier to get pleasing results, and printing went very quickly.

I countered the paper's weak reproduction with several tweaks. I substantially increased vibrance and saturation. I used wide-radius unsharp masking (see "How To Improve Digital Print Tonality") at the 25–35% level routinely, to improve gradation and tonal separation in fine detail. I circumvented the lack of good shadow separation with a Curves adjustment that really kicked up the contrast in the deeper shadows. That forced enough shadow-tone separation into the printed versions that the lack of solid blacks isn't evident.

Of course, those finished files would have printed very badly on photo-quality paper; they would have looked harsh and garish. On the Epson Double-Sided paper, they looked quite nice.

Next week, I'll cover layout, printing and production. Until then, start planning your books. I'll expect you all to have working prints by then!

CONTINUE TO PART II

Ctein

Ctein's weekly column on TOP appears every Thursday morning.

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Featured Comment by Bahi: "That answered a few questions I had about the printing of the chapbook. The prints themselves have a presence and liveliness that I hadn't expected when first touching the paper used for the book. The pictures and collection also felt contemplative and quiet but also uplifting—I really enjoy looking at it."

Mike en Español

The Spanish-language website caborian.com has just published a translation of my May 28th post "Letter to George."

I'd be interested in hearing what Spanish speakers think of it.

Mike

P.S. Here's a link to the original (in English) and the follow-up.

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More New Stuff Like the Old Stuff

...And speaking of the Department of Redundancy Reduction of Redundancy, as we were in the previous post, Pentax has announced a new prime lens. Full moniker: the SMC Pentax DA L 35mm ƒ/2.4 AL. A brand new...er...35mm ƒ/2.4.

What?

Oh, right, right...

...Because, of course, Nikon has had a modest success with its economical normal-lens-equivalent for reduced-sized sensors, and then Sony came out with its version, and so now Pentax wants one, too.

I think this is partially a cultural thing. I don't know any Japanese people, so I'm just going on a mix of hearsay and received wisdom and possibly bigotry, but it's a commonplace that Americans are known to value individuality, innovation, and going your own way ("Think Different," advised the Apple computer ads, proudly if ungrammatically), whereas the Japanese place a higher cultural value on co-operation, conformity, and imitation as a virtue. I don't know that firsthand, or for a fact.

I do know that, as an American, tracking Japanese product introductions can sometimes drive me insane. So there's that data point.

As everyone knows, I'm all in favor of primes. And I love Pentax—they're our major sponsor right now, God bless 'em—but this is not the new prime lens we needed from Pentax at this point. Because of course it almost exactly duplicates the already-existing DA Macro lens. Which is one of the best lenses currently made for digital cameras, period. But why would you want to use a superlative lens that is one of the best reasons to shoot Pentax at all, when you could have a cheaper, crappier version?

I shouldn't say the new lens is crappier. That's irresponsible, and provocative. Pentax won't like it. It's cheaper. It's not the DA Macro, which is enough to indict it in my eyes, but then, I'm prejudiced: I've used the DA Macro.

Pentax-wielding friends, Romans, countrymen: The DA Macro is expensive. But it's not that expensive. Assuming you want a prime 35mm, here's my advice: SAVE UP. Put aside fifty bucks today and do the same thing two weeks from now. Add a twenty or a C-note when you can. Sooner or later, you will have saved up the difference between what the cheap new lens will cost and the DA Macro.

You will not be sorry. A camera body is just a camera body, but a great lens is a thing of beauty and a joy forever.

Mike

UPDATE

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Featured Comment by Alex H.: "While on the topic of 'normal'/standard lenses: Let's pray that someone bright at Nikon, Sony, Pentax will finally think it a good idea to have a reasonably fast, not incredibly expensive 24mm DX/APS-C lens (35mm-e). Now that would be something new...."

Mike replies: From your lips to the ears of the directors of product development, Alex. (Although there we go again, just thinking in terms of what photographers need and not in terms of what will sell well.)

Featured Comment by Ctein: "Normally I'm in your camp on the dearth of decent primes, but this time I think you're barking up the wrong tree. That wonderful Pentax 35 macro's a $550 lens! I'll eat the web page if the new 35mm's street price is over $200. That is not a trivial difference in price; it's an entirely different class of buyer. Complaining that this is redundant feel to me a lot like complaining that it's redundant when camera makers produce two superficially similar DSLRs that sell, respectively, for around $800 and $2,000."

Mike replies: Okay, okay. My judgement is probably clouded by the fact that it's not "a reasonably fast, not incredibly expensive 24mm DX/APS-C lens (35mm-e)."

Featured Comment by 645D Next?: "Here's the 35mm ƒ/2.4 color choices link."

Canikon, Nikanon

The Canon G11 (left) and the Nikon P7000 (right). We think.

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So, has anyone noticed evidence of...er...influence?

Canon: 1/1.7" CCD sensor
Nikon: 1/1.7" sensor

Canon: 10.4 MP (down from its predecessor's 14.7 MP)
Nikon: 10.1 MP (down from its predecessor's 13.5 MP)

Biggest dimensional size difference: 3.5mm (depth)

Canon: Widest lens setting, 28mm-e
Nikon: Widest lens setting, 28mm-e

Canon: Fastest aperture, ƒ/2.8
Nikon: Fastest aperture, ƒ/2.8

Weight difference: 5 grams

Canon: Optical Image Stabilizer
Nikon: Hybrid VR Image stabilization

Canon: 2.8" viewing screen
Nikon: 3" viewing screen

Canon: Estimated Retail Price $499.99
Nikon: Manufacturer's Suggested Retail Price $499.95

Etc.

Sometimes you kinda have to wonder—at what point do these two companies merge and call it a wash? If just for the sake of redundancy reduction of redundancy.

Mike

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Featured (partial) Comment by Bob Dales: "They have entirely different strap connecting systems. That ought to be enough difference for anybody."

Featured Comment by James: "I'm content with the logic of coinciding evolution, but we've got a serious time lapse here.  Nikon appears to have coincided with the Canon G9, a camera now twice superceded.

"Part of my work involves deciding on the allocation of R&D funding for my company. Once I've made my mind up, I go to the Board for approval. Typically, it's a presentation involving things like technology trends, emerging markets and critically, what our competitors can do and what we think they're going to do.

"I shudder to think of the reception I'd have from some fairly flinty businessmen if I said something like 'our major rivals have developed a product over several generations, been fairly successful in the market and appear to own this particular niche. I propose that we develop an offering indistinguishable from theirs. I do not propose that we try to go better than them, and I'm certainly ignoring the upstart rivals who have got a better (Micro 4/3) product which is rapidly eating into our and our main rival's market share.'

"I'm fond of Nikon, and I very much hope they too join the Micro 4/3 group. I sense that unless they do this year (perhaps at Photokina) then they are ceding ground needlessly to others. Whether they do or not is entirely up to them: while fond of the company, I'm not slavishly devoted to them."

Featured Comment by Bruce: "Just wait...Samsung have a lovely treat for you in their APS-sized interchangeable lens NX series coming soon...with their fantastic AMOLED screen...I've seen it. Samsung are the other 1000-lb. gorilla in ten years time."

PhaseOne's B&W Digital Back

PhaseOne did an email blast today about a dedicated black-and-white digital back they make, the Achromatic Plus, and I've been hearing about it all day from readers.

The Achromatic+ has actually been available for about a year. It's made by PhaseOne in Denmark, but it was developed and spec'd by Bear Images Photographic, Inc., in the San Francisco Bay area, and it is only sold in the U.S. through them. (It's available from PhaseOne dealers outside the U.S.)

It's a 39-megapixel, 7216 x 5412-pixel, wide-spectrum back that has mainly been purchased and used for scientific and classified military applications—aerial IR, photogrammetry, preservation, and other technical uses. Jim Taskett of Bear Images tells me that so far they have only about a dozen photographers using them purely for pictorial photography (not altogether surprising considering the $42,990 pricetag—and that's without the camera and lens), although he says many of their scientific clients also experiment with using the backs to take ordinary pictures with.

The camera is available in two versions: the CV for classic visible photography and the ER for extended range infrared and UV—the first with, and the second without, a permanent IR filter. Jim says most clients, even those buying them for visible photography, buy the ER version and then simply use lens filters to limit IR and UV response. The available camera mounts include Phase One 645, Mamiya AFD, Hasselblad 500 Series, Hasselblad/Fuji H1 and H2, and the Contax 645, and of course you can use them on non-viewfinder cameras such as the Alpa or Cambo, or view cameras. The 49.1 x 36.8mm sensor is made by Kodak.

Jim does say that the results are considerably sharper than you'd get from a similar back with Bayer-array interpolation.

If you're interested in reading more, here's PhaseOne's page about the Achromatic Plus, here's the link for Bear Images, and here's Bear's dedicated Achromatic+ mini-site. There are some small examples at the last link, which of course won't do justice to what the back can actually do.

Mike

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Featured Comment by Maggie Osterberg: "$42,990? Most. Expensive. Roll of Tri-X. EVER."

Featured Comment by Pete Myers: "Many years ago, I wrote about my experiences with the Kodak DCS 760m for The Luminous Landscape.

"Since that time frame, I have lobbied many camera companies to add a monochrome version of one of their cameras to their product line. This included PhaseOne, Leica, Nikon, et al. PhaseOne certainly did not listen to me, and on repeated occasions one of their VPs gave me strong lectures on how Bayer-based cameras could do it all.

"The Leica M9 continues to be the most logical platform for a monochrome version. But I am afraid Leica does not see the market potential. Few do.

"What I can say from my own experience is that there is nothing like a digital monochrome camera. I currently shoot a Nikon D3x (24 MP Bayer), and though I can make nice monochrome images from it, they are not in the same league as those that I produced with the DCS 760m (6 MP monochrome).

"Will we ever get a cost effective digital monochrome camera into the market? Hard to say. I can only imagine how either a Leica M9m or a Nikon D3xm would perform. The key is that they must be sold at the same price point as the color versions, and there is no reason why this cannot be done. Most all of the camera or back software is the same for the color or monochrome versions of the product. There is very little added development cost for a monochrome version.

"I applaud PhaseOne for giving this market a try. I am sad that us digital monochrome pioneers cannot afford to set the product through its paces and show how innovative digital monochrome really is."

Featured Comment by Paul Glover: "Out of curiosity, I decided to see how much Acros 100 I could buy for that amount of money. Sadly, Adorama will only let me add 9,999 of any one item to my cart, which works out at $26,897.31, plus another $961.90 for the lowest-cost shipping option to where I am. I suppose the other $15,130.79 I have left can go toward chemicals and archival sleeves (maybe a buck a roll, combined?), plus some sort of large walk-in freezer to put the film stash in, since it obviously won't fit in the one I have now even if I do take the pizza and ice-cream out first."

Nikon Introduces P7000

As expected, Nikon has introduced the "Swiss Army knife" P7000, a do-everything digicam intended as a travel camera, an enthusiast digicam for advanced amateurs, and as a small, portable carry-all complement to a larger DSLR.

The 10.1-MP P7000 is the successor of the P6000 that was introduced in August 2008. It has 720p HD video with a microphone input, manual control via dials (instead of only menus), and a 3-inch non-articulated viewing screen. It features a 1/1.7" sensor that shoots RAW and RAW+JPEG, and sports a 7.1x zoom Nikkor ED glass 6–42.6mm (28–200mm-e)  ƒ/2.8–5.6 lens with 5-way VR image stabilization.

The camera is larger than the P6000 (Height: 3.1 in. [77mm] H x 4.5 in. [114.2mm] W x 1.8 in. [44.8mm] D vs. 2.6 in. [65.5mm] H x 4.2 in. [107mm] W x 1.7 in. [42mm] D), and weighs somewhat more, at 12.7 oz. (360g) with battery and card vs. 8.5 oz. (240g) for the older camera.

The camera is said to have "ultra-fast" start-up.

No word on a shipping date (that I know of), but the camera can be pre-ordered at Amazon.

Here's a page with full information, including sample images and a Bob Krist video, from Nikon.

Mike

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Shopping for the Leica X1

By AFotS

I've been following the Leica X1 since its introduction a year ago this week (hard to believe 9/9/09* was only a year ago!) and have been quite intrigued by it.

Contrary to one TOP commenter's remarks, people have been "breaking down the doors" for X1's. In fact, it's only in the past couple of weeks—after almost a year on the market—that X1's have started selling on eBay for less than the official $1995 list price. As of today, both Amazon and B&H Photo show the X1 as still being unavailable or selling above list, and whenever they get a few in at list price they go out of stock again within hours.

You may have heard that the X1 is the first compact camera that Getty has approved for submitted images (for whatever that's worth). I've seen some great images from the X1 for example from German photographer Peter Lueck, and reviewers have extolled the camera's image quality in glowing terms.

The X1 has largely gone under the radar in a lot of online forums as many photographers choose the lower cost and lens interchangeability of the Micro 4/3 cameras (and, more recently, the Samsung NX and Sony NEX). But to me the one-lens "constraint" is part of the appeal of the X1, and part of why I may buy one.

Few people have commented on the X1's design heritage, but if the M9 form-factor is derivative of the M3–MP, as Mike insinuated in the "Cool Sh*t Quiz" post, the X1's shape and size goes back much further, almost to the beginnings of 35mm photography:

Photo by adrianzg. Used with permission.

Of course, the M9's viewfinder system is much closer to the film M's finders than the X1's screen is to the Barnack camera viewfinders. But with a clip on optical viewfinder the X1 wouldn't be that alien to LTM Leica users. I think adrianzg's comparison shot above is a neat photo.

It is in fact such a simple camera, with that one lens and elegantly basic controls on top, that forums dedicated to the X1 have a hard time finding new things to say about it. I've always thought that the reason there are so many "Leicaweenies" (as Ralph Gibson called them on p. 6 of Anthony Lane's New Yorker article on Leica) is that a lot of photographers love these incredibly simple cameras from Leica and want to talk about them but find there really isn't much to say. Picture a forum dedicated to discussing the M3, and then picture if the M3 only came with a fixed lens, and you get an idea for how the X1 forums sound. Wrist straps, lens caps, cases and viewfinders are about all that's left to discuss after the advantages and disadvantages of the camera have been rehashed ad nauseum.

The agreed-upon flaws of the X1 have been well aired:

• Some consider the lens (ƒ/2.8) too slow;
• Many consider the fixed lens a deal-breaker;
• There's no doubt the X1 is noticeably slower to focus than a Micro 4/3 camera (there are different theories as to why this might be necessary)
• The manual focusing is coarse and cumbersome
• Some say the top dials turn too easily.

A couple of these can be fixed in firmware updates (maybe); others will have to wait for the X2 or X3.

If I get an X1, it'll be because of:

• Size (it is very small)
• One non-interchangeable lens (that's a plus for me with this kind of camera)
• Image quality (roughly equal to a D300, people say)
• Very quiet (I shoot a lot in museums and churches)
• Unlike Micro 4/3 cameras using AF lenses, the X1 does not use software to correct barrel distortion (my dislike for that solution is a personal idiosyncrasy of mine, but it's a buying consideration for me).

There's no question that the X1 is probably not the best camera for fulfilling the traditional Leica role of quick street shooting. But I think in all of the fuss about the M9 and even the S2, the X1—again, only because it's so simple and limited in how much it can be accessorized—has been overlooked.

AFotS

"A Friend of the Site" prefers to remain anonymous.

*The date of the introduction of the Leica M9. —Ed.

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Featured Comment by Pak-Ming Wan: "I have quite a funny story about the X1 and the niche it fills and how much people want it. Just after the sales time in France (yes, even that is controlled by the government), I went to the Leica Paris store to purchase a second-hand collapsible Summicron.

"I turned up at 12:45 and the store was full. The poor salesman and assistant were working through the people diligently as they normally closed at 1:00 for lunch (I think!). At about 1:30 I got my turn. My transaction was quite simple as I had already tested the lens a couple of weeks earlier.

"The guy next to me wasn't so lucky. He was a tourist, in a t-shirt and flip-flops. So, the exchange went like this:

Customer: "I'm looking to buy an X1."
Salesman: "Oh, I can't do that, I need to close at 1:00 and it is 1:30!"
Customer: "But I'll pay for it right now! I don't even need to test it!"
Salesman: "No, no, please, please come back at 2:30! It's too busy right now!"
Customer: "But I have cash and I don't even want the tax-free papers!"
Salesman: "Please, come back at 2:30...I need to serve my other clients!"

"The customer stood there kind of shocked. He then left, and the salesman locked the door behind him and came back to serving me to settle my purchase. Which he did, meticulously (taking my address, talking about where I was from, my background, a little bit about the lens), and then let me out of the shop.

"After reading this post about the availability of this item, I suppose that customer did come back later...."

Featured Comment by Luis Cavaco: "Your article about the Leica X1 is exactly what i think and feel about this street compact and beautiful camera. I have mine since February and I'm doing street shots again with the same Leica feeling that I use to have with my father's Leica IIIf, the first camera I used in the '80s. I was waiting for this camera for so long! You can check some pics here."

Only Four More Days!

...'Til our fall print sale, the final Print Offer of 2010. I'm getting really psyched about it.

The reason I mention it so many times in advance is just so nobody misses it. Our print sales only go on for a very short time—this one will run for five days—and I always get people contacting me after it's over saying, "Hey, I missed it!" "I don't check in to TOP for a week and this is what happens?" "Can I still order, please?" Well, no—no you can't. We collect orders for the five days the sale is open and then the fulfillment work begins and that's it.

By the way, I'm going to run a "sticky" about the sale at the top of the blog all next week. New content will appear underneath it (everybody knows what a sticky is by now, right?), so don't be fooled into thinking there's nothing new.

Please check back here on Sunday at noon to take a look at our Fall Print Offer, Peter Turnley's Paris. It's going to be great. You'll like it, unless I miss my guess.

Mike

P.S. By the way, if you think at any point that I'm being too craven and commercial about our print sales, all I can say is I hope so, brother, I hope so, and please don't begrudge. Running a site like this is great fun (really, it is), but they chain your foot to a bench and make you tug on this giant oar all day, and then when the plate with the scraps and gruel comes around there just isn't much of it (again, really...although I'm up to 1600 calories a day now on the GAFAD*). The income is all nice, but harrowingly irregular. We need the odd drachma.

And Peter has now contributed several bodies of original work to the site without getting paid a single lepton**. Talk of New Paradigms in photojournalism is all well and good, but something has to pay the bills. This is how we hope it's going to work.

(But more about that in the future.)

*The Great Anti-Fat-Ass Diet, which I've been on for going on seven weeks now.

**1/100th of a drachma.

 

Three Degrees of Darkness

By John Kennerdell

Used photographers tend to get recycled into new teachers, and through no plan of my own I now appear to be one of them. My qualifications? Well, I’ve already developed a teacher-like knack for hammering on the same favorite points again and again. Some of them ("Are you sure you need to carry around all that gear?") my students would just as soon not hear. Others, they like. One of these is that very low light is often very good light.

Low light: ƒ/2.8, 1/125 sec., ISO 1600 (EV6). Early morning under a low pavilion, considerably darker than it looks here. When shooting film we used to get subjects out of the sunlight and into open shade. Now I often try moving them from the shade into deep shadow, preferably in places like this, where faint light coming in from different directions can be used as ready-made main, fill, and back light.

I call them "near-dark experiences," and in the film era we learned about their beauty the first time we put a camera on a tripod and shot in the half light of dawn or dusk. These days, thanks to digital, they're available even at handheld shutter speeds. To my eye now, just about everything looks more intriguing in really marginal light. Above all, I like what near-darkness does for portraits, both posed and candid.

Lower light: ƒ/2.0, 1/60 sec., ISO 1600 (EV4). Very diffuse pre-dawn light (the eye catchlights are the clouds in the eastern sky before sunrise). For low-light portraiture with the current generation of 35mm DSLRs, this feels like about the sweet spot: dark enough to begin to do interesting things to color and tonality, but still sufficient light for good image quality.

No doubt there are countless photographers exploring this new high-ISO frontier in available-light portraits. But search for words like "low-light portraiture" and you’ll see that many people still seem to think only in terms of the classic low-key look: candlelight or a single bulb illuminating a face against a murky background, that sort of thing. I'd suggest that the real potential begins when shooting an even dimmer, lower-contrast scene and then lifting the whole exposure to the point where it no longer appears dark. Color and tonality subtly transform. Backgrounds blow out, or retain just a hint of color and shape.  Sometimes the result is more muted than an ordinary open-shade or window-light portrait would be. Sometimes, curiously, it's more dramatic.

Lowest light: ƒ/2.0, 1/60 sec., ISO 6400 (EV2). A gloomy day, inside a dark market. This is about the limit, at least for me: hard to see, harder to focus, and rather harsh file quality. But the results are often a pleasant surprise, with all kinds of unexpected interplay between diffuse and directional light, mixed-color sources, and background blur. (And, honestly, no dodging of the eyes. That’s how the camera sees them when in a dark place with large distant light sources on various sides.)

The three levels of darkness I’ve tried to illustrate here are of course pretty arbitrary. They’re also a moving target, given the way the technology keeps advancing. The point—see how it is with teachers?—is that every additional stop of darkness offers its own discoveries even in color portraiture, a photographic genre traditionally associated with fairly ample light. Of all the possibilities that digital capture has brought us, maybe it’s time this one gets a little more attention.

John

John Kennerdell's website is Studio Hatyai.

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Featured Comment by Joe Cameron: "Beautifully put, John. Simple and elegant like your photographs.

There's too much obsessive chatter about lenses this and cameras that. We all know, but mostly forget, that photography is largely about relating to the world as it is given to us, not as we want it to be. We walk out the door with camera in hand expecting the sun and the landscape and the people we meet to conform to some limited notion in our heads of what constitutes a 'good picture,' and in the process, we miss so much of what is offered that day...especially what lies in the softer, quieter, dimmer, less demanding pockets of existence.

"A favorite quote: 'A man smiles by himself in the dark, perhaps because he can see in the dark, perhaps because he can see the dark.' (Yannis Ritsos)

"And a short, sweet book (not a photography book): In Praise of Shadows, by Junichiro Tanizaki.

"P.S. You’ll make a fine teacher...."

Dueling Comments

This was kind of funny. These two comments came in right next to each other, about twelve minutes apart, albeit to different posts. I'm sure the first is meant to tweak my tail a bit, and they don't exactly speak to the same issues, but the overlap made me chuckle.

From "Wijnand":

Wouldn't it be a nice idea if they fitted modern camera's with a Mike Johnston mode? From the manual of the Canon 600D: The Mike Johnston mode turns off the auto focus, puts the light meter on center weighted and manual selection of shutterspeed and f/number, an ISO of 250 and emulation of Tri-X. The Mike Johnston mode unblocks after 365 days. Warning: in Mike Johnston mode the camera freezes with zoom lenses!

From "Martino":

I read recently in a French magazine an interview of S. Salgado about his current long-term project, "Genesis." This was started on a Pentax 645 camera with Tri-X 320, but concerns about dwindling paper inventories—he has loads of work prints done in the editing phase—and films being damaged by airport X-ray machines compelled him to continue the project with a digital camera (high-end Canon). The description of the new digital workflow is quite fascinating. For example, in the shooting phase he turns off the back display of the camera in order to not be distracted. Also, parts of the viewfinder have been obscured, in order to match the 4.5x6 aspect ratio the project started with. Basically, it has all been organised so that his experience as a photographer remains as "analogue" as possible. He seems to be quite a happy camper about the new arrangements.

The funny bit of the story is that B&W film negatives are being created from the digital camera and then printed in a more traditional way—enlarger an so forth—for museums and collectors because that is what those people want, by his own candid admission.

(posted by) Mike

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B&W vs. Color, not Film vs. Digital

This point came up in the comments to the previous post, and I thought it might be worth moving up to a post of its own.

"Film vs. digital" has never been at issue for me at all. Rather, it's always been a question of black-and-white vs. color for me.

This is just my personal viewpoint.

The greenish light of a severe thunderstorm on the way.

It was Carl Weese who first suggested to me, many years ago, the digital would be the coming of age of color photography, and I still firmly believe that's the case. Digital cameras "see" natively in color*...at least virtually all of the cameras they've given us so far do. Color management still isn't trivial, but the control we're given over color in post-processing is wonderful and virtually limitless. Color digital printing, easy to do indifferently and still difficult to do well, is nevertheless just gorgeous—well-made digital pigment inkjet prints can be stunning and deeply satisfying, rivalled (arguably not surpassed) by only a few rare esoteric color processes from the old day 'n' ways. Color photography is better in digital than it's ever been. Certainly in terms of convenience and interpretive control. But aesthetically, too, in my opinion.

Similarly, nothing beats a B&W print from film. It's not always easy to do well; really good workers are still in the minority of all practitioners. But it's a fully mature technology and one I find to be aesthetically very satisfying and fulfilling when done skilfully. It doesn't need improvement. Really, the ultimate quality (in terms of aesthetics and permanence) available to B&W film and plates and papers hasn't improved in well over a hundred years...what has changed is convenience, which has gradually improved.

Yet all during that time, color continued to struggle to improve. Color film photography was worked out quite well by the end, but it took a lot of doing, and there was still something less than completely satisfactory about it. Cross-contamination of the dye layers, lack of interpretive control in printing with most methods, materials that deteriorated with time...I just never liked many color print methods. Eliot Porter's dye transfer prints, Paul Outerbridge's carbros, Richard Misrach's masked Cibas were the exceptions, not the rule. And of course Kodachrome was always nice, but there were limited things you could do with small-format transparencies.

The same unsatisfying, one might say resistant aspects I have always perceived in color film methods I also definitely perceive in digital black-and-white. It just isn't easy or natural. To take a digital camera with a Bayer array and RGB microlenses and struggle to convert the results to B&W is just...well, it's just too contrived for my modernist heart. Why do it? You're just imitating what B&W film does, is all. I've never liked it, never been entirely satisfied with my experiments with it, never mind the process and methodological concerns.

The colors in pictures like this can be interpreted in many different ways.

In my view, black-and-white was already perfect, whether it was Kodak Tri-X in a Leica or Pentax or Ilford HP5 Plus sheet film in a 4x5. Color needed digital to set it free, to make it come alive, to give its practitioners sufficient interpetive control and set it on equal footing with monochrome. I would never criticize any photographer for choosing any particular technique that he or she thinks suits his or her work, but in my view it's at least a little quixotic to shoot color film in 2010**, and maybe a touch bullheaded to try to wrestle digital into doing capable black-and-white. To my mind, film is for black-and-white, digital is for color. I don't mean to be rigid about this. And I certainly don't mean to be prescriptive: your photography isn't up to me, and you can hold any opinion you want to. But to me, it's not really a film vs. digital thing at all. Never has been. It's a question of choosing the best medium for B&W vs. color that's the real question.

Mike

*I know some people will probably take the following tack in playing Devil's advocate, but it's an obfuscating argument to contend that digital sensors really "see" in black-and-white. While technically true, that's not the way we experience the cameras. It's not the way they're manufactured or are set up to operate. And yes, we had worked out many of the problems of color photography by the end of the film era. But even in the 1970s, we still had relatively poor-performing color films, and catastrophic short- or medium-term failure of many common color printmaking materials was widespread (the accounts of Henry Wilhelm's epic quests and battles are enough to prove that). Color was just never quite "natural" to photography until digital came along.

**One natural exception would be, if you've been doing it since before the digital era. Another exception is that the fad style among photo art galleries right now is for large-format color film work, and if you shoot for that market it makes sense to shoot what that market appreciates.

ADDENDUM by Ctein: Re "...but it's an obfuscating argument to contend that digital sensors really 'see' in black-and-white." It's worse: it's entirely without point or possible import, because all photographic media, with one singular exception, "see" B&W. The Lippmann Process actually saw a spectrum as a spectrum. Every single other method, silver or silicon, involves assembling a color image out of monochrome bits. Doesn't matter if they're side-by-side, as in an Autochrome or a Bayer array, in-camera seps/multi-chip cameras, or superimposed, as with integral tripack films and Foveon sensors. It's all monochrome, so far as the "detector" is concerned. So, indeed, it is the end-user (ahem) experience that defines the medium, not physically-inappropriate hair-splitting.

The World's Best Lens

We've been on a Leica kick around here lately, and people are starting to complain. Hey, look at it this way: if I weren't a little obsessive-compulsive, I could never, ever keep this blog going day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, could I? Everything's good for something.

Anyway...maybe you're among those who think the best lens money can buy says "Leica" on it.

Nope. Sorry. Guess again.

The best lens it's currently possible to put on a camera (well, aside from the cameras in satellites—a commercially-available camera, let's say) is this one*.

And you know what's really magnificent about that? The review. I take a professional interest in the quality of lens and camera reviews (how many people do you know who actually have favorite reviews?!?), and that is one of the best-crafted lens reviews I have ever read!! Anywhere, by anyone.

Kowtow, kowtow.

Picture of a man kowtowing.

Fer oncet and fer all
To answer another question that's come up—how to do a "Leica Year" if you just absolutely cannot afford a Leica, any Leica, no how, no way...I had thought that the "Secrets of the Leica" thread answered that one. That was sort of the intention of that post. But, in case it didn't, and even though I know very few people need this information, here, explicitly, is what I recommend:

A Pentax MX with a Pentax SMCP-M 50mm ƒ/1.4 lens. (And Tri-X, of course. I love Tri-X.)

Although the ƒ/1.7 is no slouch, and, really, just as good.

If you're patient, you should be able to get away for under two hundred bucks—for both, not for each. Take care of it for the year and who knows how little you'll lose. Maybe nothing.

Didn't need to hear my opinion on that, again? Getting tired of the subject? I understand.

I'm just sayin'.

Mike
(Thanks to Ctein)

*Or maybe not. See Andrea Blum's comment below.

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Featured Comment by Rod S: "Mike, I'm pleased that you've finally named the Pentax MX as the next-best substitute for a Leica.

"The MX was the most highly-evolved manual 35mm Pentax camera, the last of a kind. It combined a revision of the proven, very reliable, traditional Pentax shutter mechanism with an outstanding high-magnification viewfinder and never-repeated intuitive viewfinder display of shutter speed, aperture and 1/2-stop increment LED meter display, all housed within a small, Leica-sized body that nestles in the hand.

"Later cameras, including the LX, were optimised for aperture-preferred exposure automation, which, in my view, gets in the way during hand-held work where maintaining a minimum shutter speed is important. In addition, the LX exposure display offers only full-stop increments.

"The mirror mechanism is very well damped by a pneumatic piston, and, as a result, the MX mirror imparts much less vibration than a normal 35mm SLR such as a Pentax K1000.

"I bought my first MX in March 1977, shortly after its release, and added a second body a year later, for many years using them with either the 50mm or 85mm lens on one, and a 28mm on the other. In 1995, I moved to the 6x7 format for much of my photography, but continue to use the MXs for casual snaps.

"The combined rotary shutter-speed and 1/2-stop meter display is a genius design. The shutter speed display rotates as the shutter speed dial is rotated, so you always know which direction to turn it. The 1/2-stop LED display synchs with the 1/2-stop clicks on the lenses, and the display changes instantly. No subsequent camera offered such quick, intuitive operation. It's better than automation."

Featured Comment by Dennis Huteson: "The best lens in the world is always the one somebody else has."

Featured Comment by Andrea Blum: "About that Coastal Optics 60mm ƒ/4—

"It is a very specialized macro lens built to shoot visible, ultraviolet and infrared wavelengths without focus shift. Someone not well-versed in shooting outside the visible range should know some basics:

"1. To use the CO60mm in visible light, you will most likely need to use an external UVIR-blocking filter on the lens to prevent contaminating UV or IR rays from hitting the sensor even though DSLRs have an internal UVIR-blocking filter. That internal filter is stonger in newer DSLRs, but it is not perfect. IR-contamination at its worst leads to a low-contrast, 'washed-out,' skewed-colour effect in visible wavelength shots.

"2. To shoot UV with the CO60mm, you need an external UV-pass lens filter that does not leak IR. (IR can contaminate a UV photo just as it can contaminate a visible photo). And you need a UV-capable camera, of course. Not all DSLR sensors have good native UV-sensitivity. For those that do, you must first have the internal UVIR-blocking filter removed and replaced with a clear filter capable of passing UVIR as well as visible wavelengths. Similar remarks hold for shooting in IR.

"3. The CO60mm has a hotspot flaw at magnifications 1:4 or greater. I was the unfortunate discoverer of that hotspot. I later corresponded with Lloyd Chambers and sent him my hotspot sample photos so that he could add a correction to his review—which, of course, he promptly did. Eventually (!) the manufacturer of the CO60mm acknowledged the hotspot problem and suggested the use of extension tubes to mitigate the hotspot. Extension tubes work in most cases. The original reviewers of the CO60mm did not find the hotspot because they did not test it at high magnifications. My personal decision upon discovery of the hotspot was to immediately return my copy of the CO60mm for a refund. For that kind of price I felt that a macro lens needed to be 'perfect' at macro distances from the subject."

The Most Excellent Engineers of LPL Co., Tokyo

One of the very first of the 250 or so published articles I wrote for various photography magazines was about enlargers. I got into a rather bitter fight with a manufacturer, which had a salutary side effect: very early in my career, it taught me to go ahead and say what I meant and to pay no attention to pressure. Ever since then my priorities have been ordered: readers first, employer second, manufacturers third. I didn't go to the mat with employers very often, but I did so when I thought it necessary to look after the readers' interests. I lost at least a couple of those fights. But I won some, too.

That early disputation over enlargers had another happy result: it introduced me to the Saunders/LPL 4500II 4x5 enlarger. At the time, the enlarger of choice for large-format and Zone System photographers was the Beseler 45MXT, which is still available new, equipped with an aftermarket cold-light head of the type manufactured by Aristo. (The cold light head was what caused all the ruckus, mainly because it was not manufactured by Aristo. I'll tell the story someday.)

The Saunders, which I will henceforth refer to as the LPL—Saunders was the then-importer, LPL Co. of Tokyo the manufacturer—was a whole 'nuther animal. It was based on dichroic color enlarger technology, and seemed to me clearly to be built to an altogether higher standard than the American enlargers of the day. It was slick and very convenient to use, and technically very competent.

Fast-forward to 1994. I lived in a very beautiful loft apartment in Chicago, with 14-foot ceilings, exposed brick walls, giant wooden beams, naked ductwork, and panoramic rooftop views. The only place for a darkroom was a converted powder room or half-bath. There was no room for the big Saunders, which therefore had to be de-accessioned. To replace it, because I had been so happy with the larger one, I bought the smaller, medium-format Saunders/LPL 670 VCCE (670 refers to the largest format the enlarger handle—6x7cm—and VCCE stands for "variable contrast constant exposure").

Saunders/LPL VCCE, c. 1994

I quite honestly didn't think a lot about it one way or the other. It wasn't terribly fancy and it did what I expected it to do. Nothing to get excited about—it was clearly a step down from its big brother.

Fast forward to today. I've been happily puttering in the new darkroom—which I find relaxing. The aging LPL has been sitting, neglected, in a corner, for almost a decade. So I had to take it entirely apart.

As you can see, spiders had set up house in the bellows! The whole thing needed a thorough clean-and-check.

Having it all apart gave me a renewed appreciation for the thought and care that went into making this thing. I know it's not rocket science, but the engineering problems aren't trivial, either—not when they're solved to this degree of elegance—and there are a number of them that all have to be satisfied equally well. For instance, the light source must be perfectly even and bright; no light can come out of the device except where it's supposed to; many different parts need to move and adjust relative to each other yet still remain rigidly positioned with a really pretty high degree of precision; the color of the light has to change without changing the intensity; and the whole thing must be easy and intuitive to use.

From what I hear, LPL's engineers derived a number of their solutions from earlier Durst enlargers, Durst (1936–2006) being the longtime European leader in enlargers. But wherever the "prior art" came from, this is clearly a refined design with a long engineering evolution behind it, cleverly and thoroughly thought through.

This is the enlarger head, removed from the chassis, upright, and with its top off and the light mixing box removed. The three small glass filters you can see—one yellow, one magenta, and one neutral density (ND)—slide up and and down in varying ratios as a single knob on the side of the side of the head—the big black one visible in the first picture—is turned. The effect is to change the color of the light without varying its intensity. The bulb itself, a regular 12V, 100-watt halogen projector bulb like the one pictured here, is hidden in the chamber behind the filters.

Here's a detail. As usual, you can click on any of these pictures to make them larger.

The three filters do an independently-variable little up-and-down dance when you turn the contrast-control knob. The weird color and the apparent green bar are caused by reflections from the optical coatings.

After passing through the filters, the light enters the light-mixing box through a hole. This is what sits directly above the negative carrier. (And this whole arrangement raises and lowers with a lever, too, to allow easy insertion and removal of the negative carrier.)

The core of the mixing box—and thus, in essence, the core of the enlarger—is made of styrofoam! Not fancy, but ideal from a functional standpoint. I've heard that these styrofoam mixing boxes were known to yellow over time in early 4x5 models, but this one is still bright white after 16 years or so (the yellowish-greenish tint comes from my horrid mixed lighting). The last piece—what the negative sees—is a diffuser made of translucent plastic that comprises the bottom of the box. You can see a bit of it there to the right of the mixing box.

I wonder if the engineers who designed the 670 VCCE are still active and working for LPL? Wherever they may be now, they have my respect, admiration, and regards. For all its modesty, this is a well-made, high-value product.

My enlarger seems to have held up well over time, for the most part, despite the spiders. The big question for me is whether the contrast filters have held their values over the years. If they've faded, either the parts or the whole head will have to be replaced.

LPL enlargers are now distributed in the U.S. by former competitor Omega. The 670 VCCE now costs $1,295, which isn't much of an increase from the ~$895 I paid in '94, especially when you factor in today's considerably reduced demand. Used ones, of course, are not difficult to find.

Mike

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Featured Comment by Helcio J. Tagliolatto:

Cool Sh*t Quiz

Q: what do these five things have in common?

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

Click past the break to see the answer, if it's not obvious...

And Now for Something Completely Different...Well...

Christoph Bangert, Sgt. Mohammed Bashir, 22, Afghan National Army, Karamguzar, Imam Sahib District, Kunduz Province

You want to know what this guy is thinking? He's thinking, "What the hell kind of camera is that?"

At least he doesn't think the rollfilm packets are candy.

(For the explanation to these and other mysteries, be sure to read the write-up at the link.)

Mike
(Thanks to Lynn Burdekin)

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A Death in the Community

"Our autobiography is written in our contact sheets,
  and our opinion of the world in our selects."
                                                                                —Bill Pierce

"Photographers" make up a far-flung community. We come from all over globe, are of almost every age, and have very little in common except our interest in photography and our love of some aspect or aspects of it. And yet that's often enough to make us friends of a sort, and give us a shared bond.

Every now and then we lose one of our group. I was reminded of that the other day when Christopher Booth's wife Gillian Marshall wrote to explain why she was cancelling his subscription donation to TOP. I didn't know him, but at dinner last night I quietly raised a glass to the memory of Chris—one of us.

Another member of the community we lost a while back was John Stovall, of Texas, who, his friends tell me, liked to be called only by his last name. He was an outsized character with strong opinions who lived a full and by all accounts eventful life.

He also seemed to be exerting the force of his personality on events even after his death. Rick Waldroup explains:

John was laid to rest at Burkett Cemetery, located in an extremely remote yet beautiful area between Coleman and Cross Plains, Texas. Folks, when I say remote, I mean remote—this place is literally out in the middle of nowhere. After arriving at the cemetery, I could understand why John chose this place. It was close to where he grew up in Coleman, it is so remote and peaceful, and finally, it is so Texas-like—and I never knew anyone, including myself, who loved Texas more than John. The first thing I noticed was the absolute silence. Very, very few cars passed by, no planes flying overhead—just this beautiful, pristine Texas countryside that John had chosen as the last resting place for his wife and himself. It was a small cemetery, yet one of the most beautiful and peaceful places I have ever been to.

There were only a handful of people there when I arrived (and how I arrived is a strange story in itself) and I estimate that by the time the service started, there were approximately 40 people in attendence. However, there had been a memorial service earlier that morning at John's church in Dublin, which drew a large crowd.

On my way to the funeral, I got lost. Now, I pride myself on being able to read a map, and I almost never, ever get lost. But there I was, outside of Dublin, driving down a Farm to Market road (or an FM road), when suddenly, because of some contstruction, I had to detour on several gravel county roads. After about 30 minutes of driving around and not seeing another car or living soul, I realized I was lost. A slight panic set in as I began to worry about being late to the funeral.

I finally made my way back to a hardtop road, but there were no signs and I could not even tell what direction I was headed in. I drove blindly, hoping to come across civilization somewhere—hoping to find a small town or a gast station where I could stop for directions. Another 15 minutes passed without seeing anyone. Then, as I topped a hill, I could see a car ahead of me, in the distance. I sped up, and as I got closer, I began to really look at the car—there was something unusual about it. As I got closer, that is when I realized that it was a hearse. I could tell it had a casket in it. It was John. I just knew it had to be, because what are the odds that another hearse would be in such a remote area, and then I began to think about the odds of me coming across the hearse in such a remote area. I knew it had to be John.

 

So, I did what any good photographer would do, I grabbed a camera. I followed the hearse all the way to the cemetery. And that is how I found my way there.

 

Rick originally told this story on the GetDPI forums, where Stovall was a frequent participant, and Kent Phelan passed it along to me. Stovall left many comments here on TOP, too, over the years. I've republished Rick's words and pictures here with his generous permission.

Adios, bro.

Mike
(Thanks to Rick and Kent)

View of Texas from John Stovall's grave. Photo by Rick Waldroup.

 

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Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.

Very Brief Question

Is it just me, or is Apple's Aperture, um, slow?

Mike

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Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.

Featured Comment by Speed: "A strange question from a man who is slowly, deliberately and purposefully building a darkroom."

Mike replies: Ha! A fair point. But let it be known that I have always had to fight a tendency to be impatient during the two minutes the print is in the developer....

The Secrets of the Leica

Distractions are like catnip to photographers. We can't resist them, and they often make us act silly. The Leica didn't allow us the option of very many distractions. What follows is a short list of the major and minor secrets of the Leica's success. Many cameras can have many of these same advantages, the only problem being that they make some distractions optional, hence requiring restraint on the part of the photographers. Who seldom resist them. See above point re catnip.

This article is mainly about film Leicas. I'm not so familiar with the digital kind. For a brief account of the ways in which current digital cameras seldom limit distractions in quite the same way, see here.

The secrets of the Leica:

Major:

1. No zooms. You're forced to use primes. (Also a virtue of view cameras.) You learn how to see like the lens sees. 

2. Quiet, small, unobtrusive. You can be sneaky and non-confrontational. People sometimes don't even notice when you've taken a picture. Doesn't always help; sometimes, helps.

3. Always ready to go.

4. No long teles, no macros, and it used to be, no absurd WA's, either, although that's changed now. (Read: distraction, optional.)

Minor:

1. Lasts a long time and not many model changes, so you're encouraged to get to know it well; tends not to break, ditto; and it's usually fixable when it does break.

2. Through the viewfinder, you see the picture with all parts sharp, more like what the lens will record when stopped down to normal shooting apertures. People are very fond of telling you how an SLR viewfinder is "more accurate" to the scene. It is, spatially, but not in terms of depth of field, unless you're shooting wide open. It's not more accurate if you're looking through the lens at ƒ/1.4 but shooting at ƒ/11.

3. Imprecise framing and a touch of parallax, rendering it pointless to fret and be fussy about framing and perspective. If you want to be that way, buy a view camera. (Seriously. They're fun, and they will loosen up your small-camera shooting by providing a better outlet for your urge for perfectionism.)

4. Lenses are expensive, so chances are better you'll only own one or two.Three at most. If you are lucky enough to acquire a Leica but you also acquire too many lenses for it—too bad! You lose. Lenses are like women: one main one and maybe one on the side are enough for any real man, as long as they're the right ones for you. Too many and you're either just playing around or busy making yourself and everyone around you unhappy.

That's pretty much it. You can get 95% of the advantages of the Leica with most other rangefinders and 90% of the advantages with a small, simple SLR like an Olympus OM-1n, a Pentax ME Super or MX, or a Nikon FE2 or FM3A, as long as you're disciplined about the lenses.

Good

Almost as good

Close to almost as good

All of Leica's Franklin Mint horsesh*t (endless special editions, collector come-ons, special materials and coverings, etc.) is, well, horsesh*t, and all the shrill, whiny "I'm better than other photographers because I have a Leica" snob appeal that's been getting worse as the years go by is more than counter-productive—it's obnoxious.

Leicatistas will howl, but the business about how special the lenses are is pretty much horsesh*t too. Most lenses today are plenty good enough and are not going to hold anybody back. If you're not getting enough quality out of a good Pentax or Nikon prime, the solution is not to spend the price of a used car on magical Deutsche-dust, the solution is to get a camera that shoots a bigger neg. Again, I'm still on film here. The digitals are another can o' worms.

Best Leica: plain-jane black M6, with a little damage or wear to make the collectors go away, bought used, and put on in the morning and taken off at night, like your shirt*. Put a little electrical tape over the name and the red dot. Buy one or two lenses between 28mm and 90mm that fit the camera and the framelines, ragardless of the brand.

Good to go.

Mike
(Thanks to sneye)

*I got this from David Vestal.

Picture credits: top: E. Wetzig/Wikipedia; middle: Mark Malazarte; bottom: cameragx.com

Note: This piece is based on one written in the 1990s. I added the first two paragraphs and changed a few bits in the rest of it. You might discern it's a trifle snarkier than I would write it today; few people use cameras like these any more, so why get all emphatic about it? —MJ

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Featured Comment by ronin: "I don't think Leicas are so small, quiet, and unobtrusive. True, they may have been in the 1920s and '30s, compared to what else was available then. In those days Cartier-Bresson could indeed give Leicas those three labels.

"Even into the '40s and beyond, 35mm cameras were called 'miniature cameras.' By the 1970s several vendors had SLRs similarly sized to Leica bodies, with more features (lenses are another story, but this article is about Leicas).

"Somehow in the literature the myth persisted that Leicas were somehow more small quiet and unobtrusive than any other 35mm camera.

"As far as the advantages listed for the Leica, the market says these are rather disadvantages, hence the disappearance of almost all rangefinder products by the '60s and '70s...almost as fast as the fading of film cameras when digital serious cameras showed up.

"Leica survived by charging very high prices for rather nice stuff, with a good fan base and probably most of all somehow surviving the '70s just in time for the Asian fad for Leicas.

"I shot exclusively with M6s for a period of 5 years in the '90s. I ended up selling them. Most pix could have been taken with any other camera; a few could not. But I learned a lot from them about forced technique. I found this technique largely transferable to cameras with other viewing techniques that also offered other advantages. I sort of feel I got the better of the bargain over keeping the Leicas."