The Online Photographer

Test Shots

A commenter mentioned that yesterday's post was about life rather than about photography.

Apropos of that, I just wanted to mention that my position for years has been that "Photography is not about photography. It's about life."

What does that mean though?

I guess it means that I tend to prefer photography that has significance related to what's being photographed. What do the photographs mean? What is the photographer attempting to communicate? ...Or just show? Is there a purpose for which the photograph was made? If so, what is that?

Doesn't matter what it is. Well, it does, but there's no one thing it has to be.

This value seems to have been in retreat in recent years. I don't see any conspiracy in this or even any deliberate trend—more like, it's just a consequence of cultural forces at play. Digital imaging made photography much easier and, on a per-frame basis, less expensive, and the web and phone sharing made it much easier to see much larger numbers of photographs by others—especially the rejects and seconds, the thoughtless random effluvia of shooting. The waste-product of getting that occasional "hit."

The stuff we never used to see. (Of course, the same filters that kept us from seeing a lot of junk in traditional photo culture also choked off a lot of good work from being seen. I won't argue there.) And, there's no longer any final product. There's just the pixels on a screen, a transient representation of another transient representation of a thing that isn't even a thing. Re-representations.

Something that I've long disliked are pictures that attempt to be generic scenes or objects "known to be pretty." More recently, this has widened considerably into what might uncharitably be called "my sh*t that looks a lot like other peoples' sh*t." In other words, people new to photography look around and see everyone else posting random approximate empty meaningless snapshots, so they post random approximate empty meaningless snapshots that look like everybody else's and they're in the club and everyone's happy.

The worst of these that I see—and it's probably my own fault, because of what I have to look at—is the dreaded "test shot." Any photograph labeled "test shot" comes pre-loaded with an excuse for its own lameness. I'm deathly tired of looking at test shots.

Of course, I post a lot of test shots. But it's my job. Part of my job, anyway.

That's my excuse. Ha!

The opposite of the test shot—IMNSHO—is the personal phone pic. Everybody has some. Pictures that exist for no other reason than the very thing I value, namely the meaning of what they show. It's seldom put into words—well, into more than a few words anyway—but everyone who has such a picture knows why that picture is meaningful to them. They know the significance of the pictures they love.

I'd much rather look at normal peoples' best phone shots than yet more test shots.

I suppose the most telling question I would ask of a photograph is, why should I look at this? Why should this picture interest me? Or, to put it the correct way 'round: why should anyone else look at this? Why should this picture interest someone else?

I've noticed that a lot of photobooks these days are filled with pictures that are just devoid of meaning, feeling, specificity, or any interest in the subject matter whatsoever. They're stylish, or highly stylized. They're going for a sort of attenuated implication of significance. But there's no there there. There seems to be a meaning but there isn't.

And that gets us to the flip side of the generic pretty picture—the opposite side of the same coin, the other end of the same stick—which is when people show me a picture that might interest me, but they haven't even bothered to take any interest in what their own photograph shows! If the photographer wasn't even curious about what he or she was seeing, why should they expect me or anyone else to be?

I see numberless photographs that don't answer my first, most basic question: what am I seeing here? Much less the next question, why am I being shown this?

It doesn't really matter what the answer to the question is. I just wish there was an answer. It's not enough that it just be a photograph. Anybody can take an image, these days.

Mike
(Inset: Long Story Short)

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Open Mike: One for All and All for One

Sign on front door: "Until further notice, this residence is closed to visitors. We're not sick, and we don't think you are. We're just not sure we trust you around our toilet paper."

(A joke making the rounds lately)

We're in the middle of what I hope will be remembered as a "scare." When such things concern financial behavior they might be called "panics."

And all the toilet paper is gone.

The toilet paper shelves at the grocery store in Penn Yan

This seems very strange at first glance, because what does a vaguely flu-like virus that only rarely causes diarrhea have to do with going to the bathroom?

It's logical, though, because we're being asked to potentially "self-quarantine"—isolate ourselves at home—if we get the illness known as COVID-19. Of course there's no way to know if we have the virus, because we can't get tested. On Friday, an ER nurse I know described the entire protocol for being tested at the local hospital where she works, and it's very involved. The bottom line is, where I live, unless you're really sick, you're not going to know whether you have the coronavirus or not. Basically, to know you have it, you'd have to be on a ventilator in the Emergency Room.

And while we're on that subject, special blessings for our health workers—like Erica, my friend the nurse. They're on the front lines and in harm's way, and deserve the same gratitude we grant those who serve in the military.

But back to the point. Prospectively—hypothetically—we're facing the prospect of voluntarily isolating ourselves at home for two weeks. So do you have two weeks' worth of supplies at home?

I don't. I shop for food almost every day. So it makes sense that you'd head to the grocery store and stock up on things you might need. Dog food, for example.

...And toilet paper. Be prepared!

Then, the behavior stimulates the behavior. Because if everyone's buying up toilet paper in a panic and you know it's getting scarce, well, you'd better get some yourself, because, you know, it's one of those household staples you normally need. So then more people buy some. But the stores are used to stocking only enough for ordinary everyday buying habits, and the sudden surge in demand makes the pipeline run dry.

So it's almost like you're forced to participate in this behavior even if you're not worried about getting the virus and have decided not to prep for self-quarantine. Even if you don't want to be another lemming.

I didn't have to face this. I have enough TP.

You never know about fires
So are we all being stupid? The B&H Superstore has closed down. The Sheriff of my county has declared a state of emergency and the bars and restaurants are closed. They're not playing NBA games. You know the litany.

What are they doing? Why is this happening?

Long ago I lived in Georgetown, DC, in a third-floor walk-up apartment. The street life was, shall we say, eventful. One night in the wee hours I was woken up by multiple sirens, so naturally I looked out my window. Across the street, also on the third floor, I could see a window that was lit up by flames from within.

Many firefighting vehicles descended on the scene and screeched to a halt between our buildings. Firefighters leapt out and energetically set to work. The street was quickly closed off. Residents of the apartment building filed out onto the street in their nightclothes. Hoses were connected to hydrants. A ladder truck arrived and a fireman scrambled up a ladder and broke the window where the fire was with an axe. Almost as soon as they arrived, there were firemen scurrying about on the roof.

Soon the excitement seemed to die down, but the noise didn't, so getting back to sleep seemed to be out. So I wandered down to the street and stuck my nose in it. (I am a nosey fellow, I will admit it.) I spoke to a fireman who seemed to be just standing around. I asked him how bad the fire was. He said, "Oh, it was nothing. We got it out in no time." It was a mattress fire—a woman had fallen asleep smoking and set her mattress aflame. She got out all right, but the fire scorched the whole inside of her apartment, and there was some water damage in the apartment below.

I expressed ignorant surprise that they threw so many resources at such a small fire. "You guys were on the roof!"

So he schooled me. He explained that they move as fast as possible and treat every fire as if it's highly dangerous because it's so important to get in and get it put out before it runs away from them. "Any fire can get out of control," he said, "and you never know how fast it's going to move. So we move as fast as we can, every single time."

Seem like a good analogy?

Exponential
A friend who works in medical policy emailed to say, among other things, "people don't understand the implications of exponential growth."

If they don't, it was nicely explained by Megan McArdle recently in a column in The Washington Post called "When a danger is growing exponentially, everything looks fine until it doesn't." She began:

"There's an old brain teaser that goes like this: You have a pond of a certain size, and upon that pond, a single lilypad. This particular species of lily pad reproduces once a day, so that on day two, you have two lily pads. On day three, you have four, and so on.

Now the teaser. 'If it takes the lily pads 48 days to cover the pond completely, how long will it take for the pond to be covered halfway?'

"The answer is 47 days. Moreover, at day 40, you’ll barely know the lily pads are there."

It's the old trick question: I'll give you either one million dollars in cash, or one single red cent doubled every day for a month. Quick, which one do you want? You'd better have picked the penny.

The high potential for exponential growth is the reason some people are deeply worried about the spread of the virus and other people think it's much ado about nothing.

'Epidemiology' is the study of disease transmission
It may seem hysterical that so many things are closing, but our epidemiologists know what they are doing. They have switched strategies now. They're moving away from quarantining. What they're trying to do now is flatten the curve, and the method they're using to do it is called social distancing. Social distancing is where each citizen voluntarily limits his or her contact with other people and, especially, with large groups.

But let's back up to "flattening the curve" and what that means. Let's say 150 people in the area of Smallsville Hospital will have heart attacks in a given year's time. But they're distributed randomly—that is, more or less evenly—throughout the year. That means an average of less than one heart attack admission every two days. Since Smallsville Hospital has the capacity to handle ten heart attack admissions on one day, they can easily handle the load, continuously. Some people do die, but all receive appropriate care. That's a flat curve.

Now imagine all 150 heart attack patients arrive on the same day.

That's a steep curve.

If that happens, most of the patients will die—there aren't enough ambulances, there aren't enough EMTs, there aren't enough ER berths, there aren't enough doctors, etc., etc. The system is overwhelmed and many individuals won't be cared for, but will be ignored and left neglected and suffering.

The United States is blessed to have a high number of ER beds, and many hospitals have a good supply of respirators. But for any given number of people who will get COVID-19, the more we can spread those cases out over time, the fewer of us will die. So every effort to flatten the curve will help the medical system save more of us...instead of dying, many of us will have a respiratory illness, get better, and go on with our lives.

So how does social distancing help? There's a great, short, simple interactive graphic article at The Washington Post that makes the concept clear and shows you how it works. It's by Harry Stevens and it's called "Why outbreaks like coronavirus spread exponentially, and how to 'flatten the curve.'" It simulates an imaginary disease and shows you graphically how it spreads. Suits us photographers, who like to see things and are so comfortable with the visual. The WaPo, which is now owned by Jeff Bezos of Amazon, is normally behind a paywall, but it's making the essential parts of its coronavirus coverage free for all visitors as a public service. So you should be able to see it.

If the article doesn't work on your tablet or phone (it didn't work on my phone), be sure to look it up from your computer.

It's worth it. Even if you already understand.

Given the importance of the idea and the inherent difficulty of the concept, it's one of the best examples we've seen yet of interactive graphic news articles, in my humble opinion—the kind of thing that can be presented on the Internet but not on the printed page.

You're going to bring Alexandre Dumas in to this?
It makes it clear why closing the NBA and the bars helps. Officials can't enforce "sheltering in place," but they can eliminate the attractions that get people out and intermingling. You don't have to decide not to attend a crowded restaurant if the restaurant isn't open. You don't have to deny yourself the pleasure of churning in amongst thousands of other souls at an NBA game if there's no game being played out on the floor.

Every individual who "shelters in place" and stays at home as much as they can is helping flatten the curve.

That is, they are sacrificing their own convenience and entertainment for the good of all of us—for the good of society.

This is an important concept right now. The twelve-step program I participate in issued an official statement about the pandemic, which makes good sense because our primary activity is gathering for regular meetings which anyone can attend, and which conventionally end with everyone holding hands! But they declined to make any recommendations. I was disappointed by this. Leadership in a crisis never hurts, even when it consists of sympathetic suggestions.

They said something that I think highlights one of the greatest weaknesses of the United States as a nation of people. It's also been one of our greatest strengths—but right now it's a weakness. They sternly conclude one paragraph by deferring to the cult of individuality and self-will: "Regardless of group decisions, each individual is responsible for their own health."

It would be pretty to think so (to allude to Hemingway). But...no. Not now. We're all in this one together whether we like it or not. (I won't go into the fact that the present crisis highlights why society needs to provide basic medical care to all of its members, not just some of them. In a pandemic—and this is not going to be the last of them—taking care of only the rich just doesn't work.)

The fact is, by protecting yourself, you are protecting others; and by protecting others, you are protecting yourself. "Un pour tous, tous pour un (One for all, and all for one; also inverted to All for one, and one for all) is a motto traditionally associated with the titular heroes of the novel The Three Musketeers written by Alexandre Dumas père, first published in 1844. In the novel, it was the motto of a group of French musketeers named Athos, Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan who stayed loyal to each other through thick and thin." (Wikipedia.)

Individualism, self-interest, and self-reliance might be admirable traits in some circumstances. But they are not what is needed in the present moment. It is time for cooperation, not competition. In this crisis, the more we can be mindful of what is best for others, the better off we will be.

Honey, can you bring me some toilet paper? We're out!
And finally, if you're staying home and have time on your hands—and to end this where we began—here's a link to an odd and awkward subject that offends modesty somewhat—the history of toilet paper. And why we no longer use the Sears catalog. As Popeye says, faskinatin'.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the TP should be back on the store shelves in a week or two. Ninety percent of the toilet paper used in the United States is made here, and most of the rest comes from Canada or Mexico. TOP will be open for business during the contagion, assuming the portal continues to function.

Stay safe, friends, and God bless you and yours. 

Mike
(Thanks to Dan W., Oren, and Erica)

P.S. Oh, and here's something funny. The grocery stores in the area are half cleaned out, but I eat mostly vegetarian—and the produce sections are still all but full. Sure, the bananas and potatoes (most popular fruit and vegetable, respectively) are gone, but for the most part that section of the store looks like any other day. The rest of the store might be depleted. But even fear-driven panic buying can't get people to eat their vegetables like their mothers told them to! It's like, yeah, sure, we're desperate, but we're not that desperate.  :-D

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

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Featured Comments from:

Glenn Allenspach: "A couple days ago, we my wife and I were discussing the TP shortage. As she held up a 12-pack of the stuff, double rolls mind you, I snapped a pic. She immediately said, 'Don’t post that, we don't want to attract any burglars!'"

John Krumm: "Great post. Both my brother and my wife are physicians. My brother is at a clinic in Seattle, where he said they are going day by day, wondering what fresh hell will arrive. Patient visits are down, but confusion, anxiety and dread is up. One visiting doctor just quit to go back to her home country, and they are down to three proper masks. Yesterday they set up an outside tent for testing and the wind blew it over. The cost of the test they have is around $1,000.

"Here in Duluth we have yet to see a single confirmed case, so we have more time to prepare, and are taking all the steps. I volunteer with a couple of groups, one working on housing issues. Helping the homeless is a serious problem. Having 100 people sleeping in close quarters was never the best solution, but now it's a recipe for disaster. We probably should rent out a couple hotels for that purpose, and will be pushing officials to offer that.

"To me what is really striking is the slowing of time, like you always hear about during accidents. Everything is in flux, so two weeks ago feels like an eternity.

"I have my fingers crossed that the best thing coming out of this is that we fundamentally change our national priorities."

Kristine Hinrichs: "Interesting. Here in Milwaukee we’ve been on increasing lockdown since last Thursday or Friday. As of 5 p.m. today everything is closed except grocery stores, pharmacies, and other essential stuff. Bars are closed (and it’s St. Patrick’s Day) and restaurants can only have take-out. You can’t gather in groups of ten or more. The one thing that you can do is go outside. The parks are packed with people walking, all maintaining their six foot social distance. It looks like a physical fitness epidemic. Yes, TP and hand sanitizer are in short supply. The good thing is that some grocery stores have special hours only for people 60+ like me or at another kind of risk."

Hélcio J. Tagliolatto: "Excellent post, Mike! Same situation is occurring in Brasil. I read this on a website in Portugal yesterday: 'Your grandparents were asked to go to war; you are only asked to stay on the couch. For God sake!'"

schralp: "Here is another way to think of the situation:

The Toyota Corolla of Cameras

Bear.'s featured comment (he uses the period in his commenter handle, and I reproduce commenters' chosen handles as they are written) on the "16 Easy Steps" post made me laugh (out loud, which is how laughing works). You can read the whole comment for yourself, but I'll excerpt a few sentences from his four easy steps—the topic, as of course you remember, is buying a camera:

Step 1. Research, consider, make comparison tables, worry about necessary and unnecessary features, bug camera stores for trials, make up my mind but constantly change it about everything from sensor size, to type, to lens and accessory range, to brand, etc.

[...]

Step 3. Wholly disregarding everything at Step 1, impulse-purchase a new camera / system based on a wholly irrelevant consideration....

He really got that right. In fact, that's the very reason that I stopped making purchase recommendations for friends and relatives years ago.

I used to take such requests very seriously. They were usually spending what for them was a lot of money; they knew little about the camera landscape, and I knew a lot; and they were my peeps, and had asked me for help. I wanted to do good by them.

So I'd work at it. I'd question them extensively, really find out about their budget intentions; ask about their level of experience, expectations, and intended uses; then I'd think about it, narrow the contenders to two or three, and make a recommendation based on what I thought would be the ideal match for them. Then I'd send them off to a local camera seller (whichever was the most advantageous place to buy whatever we'd chosen)...

...And they'd come home with something completely different.

Completely different, and sometimes wrong for them, too—in my view at least.

Why had they bought it? Not rational reasons, usually. "The clerk said your choice was junk and that this one was much better." (Truth: the "better" one had a higher profit margin for the store and a higher spiff for the salesman. Hey, I've worked retail in my life.) "This one looked nicer." "I remembered my uncle used to have a Nikon." "They gave me 15% off." And so on.

I actually stopped making camera recommendations. I realized I was just part of Bear.'s Step 1!

The Toyota Corolla of cameras, and we mean that as a compliment

Well, no, I didn't stop. I just stopped expending so much time and care on figuring out what would be best for people—and stopped expecting that people would actually take my advice. What people were doing, time and time again, was just Bear.'s Step 3.

The one exception that I can remember (I think there must have been others) was my friend Dan. He was going to Europe—Ireland, I think it was—on a family trip and wanted a better camera. I recommended a Canon entry-level SLR in the Rebel T[x] series, whatever it was as the time—(it's currently the Rebel T7 and 18–55mm kit zoom, $372 / £279)—the Toyota Corolla of cameras.

He went off, entirely on his own, controlling his own money like, you know, grown adults do, and actually bought exactly that. Sure surprised me!

I actually felt a little taken aback...a little responsible, maybe. Like if something went wrong on his trip or he ended up hating the camera, I'd be on the hook for it. But all was well. He liked the camera and took a bunch of nice pictures of Ireland or wherever it was. I don't think he used the camera a whole lot after that, but mission accomplished.

In general, though, people do what they want to do...for reasons even they don't completely understand. It's nice to give advice when you're asked—what else would a friend do?—but it's best not to do so with the expectation that it will be of any use.

Mike
(Thanks to Bear.)

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

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robert e: "On a related note, while it's more a shopping Rule than a Step, I've always found it much easier to recommend a camera for someone else than for myself. I've realized that it has something to do with my ability to adapt to a wide range of non-idealness in a camera, but more so the fact that I get a kick out of such mismatches and solving the puzzle. Also, I happen to be camera curious--the less I know about a camera, or camera type, the more intrigued I am. Which of course identifies me as a certain species of camera hobbyist (or perhaps more accurately: junkie).

"But now that I understand at least some of my hidden 'irrational' motives (or pathologies), I can use them for rational ends. The best camera for me at any given time, or for a given purpose? That's the camera that, after exhaustive research, I find most boring—the least likely to present a fun puzzle to solve. In other words, the 'Corolla' camera. (Or the slightly posher Camry. 'Camery,' anyone?)"

Mike Plews: "So if a Rebel is a Corolla, what cameras would you assign for the following?

Ferrari Dino 246
69 Camaro SS
Yugo
Kenworth sleeper cab rig

"Just curious."

Mike replies: Respectively: Minolta CLE w/40mm M-Rokkor, Nikon D1, Holga, Sinar Norma with 8x10 back.

HR: "Same here. Over the years I have been asked many times for a camera recommendation. Like you I spent a lot of my (valuable) time researching and considering everything. Almost every single time the person would totally ignore it all. For the last 15 years or so I just tell them good luck with their decision and that ends it for me. I sometimes send them a link to Google or Bing and tell them those search engines are a good start for finding the answer.  :-)

"I say it all in a friendly, polite way, but I have wasted too much time and effort over the years providing free work for people who then ignore it and often do not even thank me for the effort. No more!"

Rob Spring: "I also have labored exhaustively to understand the needs and desires of many friends and friends of friends, only to be shocked at the choices they made. The most amazing and time-consuming was the daughter of a good friend who was heading to Machu Picchu for a month vacation, who also wanted to be able to do quality portraits when she returned. She said she wanted to take quality pictures much better than her iPhone would take. I met with her several times along with numerous emails to ensure I understood her needs and budget. I gave recommendations from Micro 4/3 all the way through full-frame. I set up a meeting allowing her to have hands-on experience with each system (I borrowed camera systems I didn't own).

"Some time later I ran into her mother and asked how her daughter's vacation went and what camera she had chosen. 'Oh she took the most amazing photos with her iPhone. It was all she really needed.'"

Henning Wulff: "I've often been asked for camera advice, and generally had the same experience. As an architect, I've often been asked by friends and relatives about renovations and building. Also the same experience. Mind you, this advice was given for free, and its value was treated as such. When I gave similar advice to clients at my hourly rate, they mostly took it. Somewhere, there's a lesson."

Brian Stewart: "Ain't that the honest-to-goodness truth? Which is worse—to have all your carefully-researched advice completely ignored, or to have it blindly and unquestioningly followed? Tough call.

"Shopping is supposed to be fun. Impulse buying is. The scientific approach isn't."

bruce Alan greene: "I had a friend ask me my advice for a camera to shoot a YouTube vlog. I told him I didn't know anything about a camera that would be good for vlogging. So, I googled "best vlogging camera" and found the most popular models and sent him a link to Amazon. I did look at the specs and reviews and it seemed a reasonable choice. He bought the camera and is very happy with it.  :-)  "

[Ed. note: Bruce is a professional cinematographer.]

Tesla Model X Review (OT)

New and deep blue! Photo by Sandy Stone.

Written by Ctein

I am really loving my new Tesla Model X. I guess I better when I spend close to $100K on a car, but it's nice when there's not any buyer's remorse.

The only thing Paula and I don't like about it is that it's larger than we're used to—it's a standard sedan chassis and we are used to compact cars, so it's taking a little bit to get adjusted to a car that's a foot wider and two feet longer.

A small disappointment—with all the high-speed freeway driving, the range is significantly less than EPA figures. I get about 80% of official. That turns out to be surprisingly significant with the kind of driving I do, but it is what it is. Can't really fault the electric for that; if I were driving an ICE [internal combustion engine vehicle —Ed.] at an average 70–75 mph, I wouldn't get EPA mileage either.

On the other hand, Tesla keeps rolling out software tweaks that improve the efficiency, which is not something that would happen with an ICE.

Quality control is everything you've heard about Tesla. That is, crappy. Fortunately, the D minus they get in manufacturing QC is offset by the A plus they get in servicing. Going in, we were prepared for that, and, yes, we've had two warranty fixes so far. The first was a wire harness obstructing the front camera. Not a common thing—the service manager had never seen that failure before—but one that should never have gotten out of the factory. If any kind of check were done on the cameras it would have been very obvious.

The second was that the actuator arm on the passenger side door popped off the ball joint. That is also uncommon but wouldn't show up in normal QC. I'm guessing the socket or the ball sleeve was slightly out of tolerance. That was something Tesla could fix in the field. Within 48 hours they had a technician out to the house who pulled the door apart and replaced the entire actuator motor assembly. Very probably the problem was only in the socket/sleeve, which would've taken five minutes to swap, but he agreed with me that it wasn't worth the risk of having to make another trip out, so he spent most of an hour replacing the entire assembly.

My unexpected-favorite things are the navigation system display and the heated steering wheel. I didn't imagine that I would care about the latter in California's mild climate, but I chill easily and my hands are what gets cold first. Heating up the steering wheel for a few minutes makes me a lot more comfortable. I know, wimpy Californians.

The navigation display might be the best safety feature in the whole car. It makes use of the in-dash display where the speedometer lives—the navigation map appears right next to the speed. It takes about one second to glance at it for driving instructions, as opposed about three seconds for an off-axis nav display.

The adaptive cruise control works extremely well and does the right thing 99+ percent of the time. It takes a whole lot of the stress out of driving in traffic and works perfectly in stop-and-go traffic. The autosteering/autopilot is not so good. Definitely reduces the stress of driving, and it's entirely reliable in stop-and-go, but normally I have to keep close tabs on it. Because it makes mistakes. Paula's description was to think of it like a horse: Most of the time it will do the right thing, but it lacks common sense and every so often it gets spooked or makes an entirely wrong decision. Me, I think student driver. Still, the two features make my driving a whole lot less difficult.

Also, the sound system, which seems to be the best way I have to listen to music in or out of the house. Sandy, my expert sound-engineer sweetie, says that it's Bose and it's top-notch. I was pretty happy with my Audioengine 5+'s until I heard the Tesla sound.

Ctein and his Tesla Model X in Daly City. Photo by Laura Majerus.

Getting used to everything being automated was disturbingly easy. When I walk up to the car, it unlocks the driver side door. When I get within about two feet of it, it swings it wide open, retracts the steering wheel, and moves the driver's seat all the way back to make it easy to get in. Once in the car, pressing the brake pedal moves the seat and the steering wheel back to the position I saved for them (I can save preferences for any number of drivers) and closes the door.

I didn't realize how used I was becoming to these features until I had to drive the Chevy HHR (which we still have) a couple of weeks ago. I walked up to the car and it took me several seconds to remember how to make it work.

Overall, it's difficult to describe the driving experience. My general comment is that "Friends don't let friends drive Teslas." It's like crack on wheels. The Tesla engineers borrowed a big page from Apple design philosophy when they came up with their luxury models. They thought long and hard about how many things people find annoying about driving and how many of those they could fix with existing hardware and software. It's far from perfect but it must be way ahead of whatever is in second place.

If Tesla ever really does get fully autonomous driving, Paula and I will be in heaven—I paid for the full (nonexistent!) package when I bought the car in hopes for the future. We aren't counting on it, no matter what Elon Musk smokes. Based on the performance of the current software, it isn't remotely close, not even for freeway driving. But Tesla is closer than anybody else, so that's where I've put my money.

I'm still getting used to the performance—this is a luxury car that handles and accelerates like a sports car. It'll pull two thirds of a G and doesn't bank a smidge on tight turns. I've been doing a lot of runs down Highway 1 to Santa Cruz (where Sandy lives) which is two-lane highway for much of the way. South of Half Moon Bay, it's normal to be passing tourists and beach visitors who are driving the 55-MPH speed limit, which nobody trying to get from Point A to Point B observes.

The first time I passed a 55 MPH-er, I did what I would usually do—push the pedal to the metal to get past as quickly as possible. I passed them at 98 MPH! I suppose that's really nice for my safety, but I'm not trying to scare the crap out of other drivers on the road. I'm having to learn to moderate my reactions.

I'm still getting used to the car, climbing the learning curve and discovering customizable settings I didn't know about. Today I figured out that it was possible to set the passenger and driver temperatures differently. God knows what else is buried in the feature set. It's like buying a new computer system with an unfamiliar operating system and user interface...

...That can kill you.

I proceed with caution.

And that's about it from Daly City, where all the photographs are beautiful and all the cars are above average.

Pax,

Ctein

Ed. Note: Readers notoriously ignore bylines, so please note that this review is of Ctein's new car, not Mike's! Mike will continue to drive his paid-fer, 30-MPG, manual-transmission 2014 Acura ILX, made by Honda in Greensburg, Indiana, until it dies, or 250k miles, or his ship comes in, or the cows come home, whichever comes first. (It's got 79k miles currently, at age six.) His next car, far off in the hazy future, is likely to be a hybrid. Ctein's next vehicle will be a spaceship, bound for other precincts of the solar system, or possibly beyond.

(This review replaces "Open Mike" for this week.)

ADDENDUM by Ctein: The Tesla is an absolutely frivolous purchase for me—the one monstrous, frivolous purchase in my entire life. But that does not mean I entered into it frivolously. Paula and I have been looking at eVs since 2010, and we started looking seriously about four years ago. Not seriously in the sense that our Chevy HHR needed replacing, but in that when it did the odds were very high that our next car would be an eV, and there were workable options out there for us. Depending, of course, on money and needs and timing.

But, oh yeah, we've been studying this. And by now you should all know that when I study something, I really study something. Most especially when looking at having to spend $40,000 or more, which is four times more than we spent on the Chevy. A great deal of consideration went into this purchase, not to mention no small amount of planning. Yes, it is a frivolous and an exorbitant luxury. Do not imagine, though, that it was entered into ignorantly. There are many pros and cons to buying an eV these days. They are not panaceas. I'm not asking you to think so. But please give me a little credit—I knew exactly what I was doing.

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

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Featured Comments from:

Kirk: "Made me chuckle a bit. In Austin they are as common as pickup trucks and Honda Accords...."

emptyspaces: "I have had a Nissan Leaf Plus for about five months now. Couldn’t afford (or drive!) a Tesla during the buying process (Leaf Plus will be $10k less than the off-menu Model 3...before insuring it). Anyway, I love it. It’s quick in that key 25–55 MPH range and can easily merge onto the freeway from any ramp.

"I am happy for anyone who gets to experience an EV for basic driving...none of them are great for long trips but in five months my biggest day has been 85 miles. It’s our second car, and my DD. Congrats on the Model X—I have a hard time believing the sound system is better than Audioengine, but glad to hear the sound doesn’t suck like in my Leaf. Just got done replacing the speakers in it."

Malcolm Leader: "I want one!"

Daniel: "Meanwhile, the old '81 VW Rabbit diesel keeps on going with 50 MPG at highway speeds all day long. In-town driving is 46 MPG. Was made in Pennsylvania, USA. Roomy enough that Wilt Chamberlain (former NBA player) drove one. Parts easy to get and the vehicle still works well. Paid for decades ago and insurance cost is low. Why mess with what works?"

Thomas Mc Cann: "Worth watching:"

Tim Auger: "What’s the depreciation like on a high-end Tesla?"

How To Buy a Camera in 16 Easy Steps

If you want to be a photographer, here's one process for picking a camera.

First, decide whether you want to be a photographer or a camera hobbyist. There's a little overlap but not as much as most people assume. To pick which camera to buy:

1. Reflect on what kind of shooter you are and what you want to photograph.
2. Set a defined limit for the shopping period. Several months, maybe even up to a year if you're saving your money. But set a limit. Do not violate this intention; it is crucial. Defer your decision until the end of your chosen time period. Even if you think you've made up your mind sooner.
3. Set your budget for a minimum of one camera and one lens.
4. Define a range or area of products to explore, i.e., compact cameras, fixed lens cameras, FF cameras, whatever it might be.
5. Try five or six of the leading contenders that you can see, hold, look through and test-fire in person.
6. Choose one or two of the most useful lenses. Plan to add up to two or three more in the future. Two to five lenses is all anyone ever needs. In fact, if you have more than five lenses, get rid of the ones you use least. The fewer lenses you use regularly, the better your photographs will be.
7. When the time comes, make your camera decision. Be aware that it isn't critical; the more difficult the choice is between two products, the closer they are to each other and the less it matters which way you go. If you're really stuck and can't choose between two cameras, flip a coin. It really matters that little.
8. Now, stop shopping.
9. Study the camera, its controls, and its manual. This should be done as quickly but as thoroughly as possible. Devote some serious time to it; study it like you're cramming for a college exam. Note that there will be a test...or rather tests, plural. On an ongoing basis.
10. Set up the camera for the way you're going to use it and stop worrying about that.
11. At first, force yourself to get out and use the camera regularly. Touch it every day. Handle it a lot. Give yourself shooting challenges. Work out how you're going to hold the camera for horizontals and verticals, from low and high positions, eyelevel or waistlevel, etc. Switch from one configuration to another and back again. You're learning it. Don't worry about what you're taking pictures of; just get out and do it. The point is to get fluent as quickly as possible. If you can't go out shooting, then shoot what you can where you are—dentist's waiting room, stopped in traffic, shopping for groceries, whatever, doesn't matter. Do this for several months.
12. Every day at the same time, take out the camera in your living room and and run through the settings and practice your holding techniques. Three minutes is fine. Five minutes is plenty. Ten minutes is too much—you'll never keep it up if you do that much.
13. You've stopped shopping, right? No more reading online reviews. No more perusing manufacturers' offerings. No more thinking about any equipment you didn't choose. Stop it. None of that matters at all.
14. After you've made friends with the camera, you can buy a second body, but only if you want to. Buy one that is identical to the first. It's just a backup.
15. After you've made friends with the camera, stop shooting randomly. Pick serious projects or ways of working and concentrate your shooting only on serious work. Aside from your nightly five minutes, don't shoot casually and randomly. Look forward to the times you get to use your camera! Be prepared for those times and savor them. 
16. Stick with the same one or two bodies and two to five lenses as long as you possibly can. Repeat the above process as infrequently as possible. Change will come, faster than you think; there's just no need to rush it. Wear that camera out.

And if you want to be a camera hobbyist, well:

Nothing wrong with that. Shop continuously and indefinitely and get bogged down in it like a mastodon in a tar pit; tie your identity to brands; familiarize yourself in excruciating detail with entire systems and product lines; buy too many lenses; compare features exhaustively; argue your choices online; pursue infinitesimal differences of image "quality"; learn about and critique the business strategies of the camera companies; amass cameras like treasure; and maybe take a few pictures every once in a while!

You detect a certain tone in that, of course, but, really, cameras make a great hobby. I've loved it, myself.  :-)

Mike

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

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Earl Dunbar: "This is excellent advice. I’ve actually followed (most of) these steps on occasion, but not always. So guilty of being a gear guy at times.

"This does remind me, however, of a true story told to me at a camera shop (remember those?) I once frequented back in the early '80s. One of the clerks told me about a customer (someone I had seen in the shop but didn’t really know) who was taking forever to decide on a 35mm system. However it came about, at one point the shop allowed the customer to call Ansel Adams on the store phone. Virginia answered the phone, and when the customer asked for Ansel, she had him come to the phone. The customer proceeded to explain that he didn’t know which of two choices (Minolta or Canon, as I recall) was the best. Ansel answered, 'Which one do you like?' 'I kind of like the Minolta.' Ansel: 'That’s a good camera.' Customer: 'Thanks!' And he bought the Minolta. I swear this is true."

Bernard: "Are there even two cameras in that group that focus in the same direction, stop-down in the same direction, and have shutter speeds laid out the same way? I think not. It would drive me mental.... How do you expect to re-learn to play the piano when all the keys are in different places every time? You know, you may have been on to something with that whole one camera, one lens thing. It will be interesting to follow."

Dave Van de Mark: "This topic is right up my alley! Or is it alleys! Just having been awarded a grant by the National Park Service to do some specific work in the redwoods, I am into the search for what clearly will be my last shot at a high-rez camera—for very practical reasons: funds are minimal and I'm 77. So I must respond to your 16 points as I feel they apply to me. All in fun, of course. I'll skip past any of the above that I'm following much in the way you suggest.

1.) I am a wide angle landscape shooter, period. No more reflections needed.

2.) Time period for shopping is short due to project needing to start this spring. I am mapping out about three scenarios, obviously based on restraints I am required to live by.

4.) Only one range ideally: High resolution full frame mirrorless; fall back is APS-C Fujifilm.

5.) I cannot pretest anything and neither do I want to; 50+ years of photography 'experience' and massive amounts of online info will guide me here. Wish I did know more about how risky it is to buy refurbished.

6.) No plans to add more lenses; the greatest extent would be an excellent zoom with maybe—just maybe—one prime at my favorite long term focal length. Then that's it!

9. and 10.) relate to #5 in that I can't go pretesting anything, but once I make the purchase, I'll poor into it fast and furious to make sure it's 'right' so I can return it if not.

14.) My backup has to be what I own already.

16.) Your final point I have been living by for a long time—a Fujifilm X-Pro1 has served me very well but is near death and giving me fits at times.

"Finally, I don't fit at all into your 'hobbyist' description."

Mike replies: I have read with interest your comments about your Redwoods project and sincerely wish you well with it. I hope it is everything you hope.

Jim Arthur: "My first two film cameras sort of fell from the sky. I put no thought into them at all. My first purchase was planned more by the salesman than by me. I was in high school and had wandered into a Chicagoland camera store to see what a real (non-110) camera looked like. The salesman sold me a used Praktica for a song and started me down a long and winding road that’s really enriched my life. God bless that leisure suit wearing camera dude behind the counter.

"My next film camera was a K1000 I received as a gift. I wasn’t pining for a new camera and hadn’t asked for one so the new Pentax came as a wonderful surprise to a penniless 20-something.

"My first two digital cameras (bridge and DSLR) were the result of many, many hours of research and hand wringing. The world of digital was new and it was obvious that the manufacturers were just feeling their way along so it really paid to compare. Looking back, I think I chose well.

"Now that I’m more experienced and the digital realm had matured, I’ve stopped obsessing over gear. I know what I need, like what I have, and can recognize when my manufacturer of choice occasionally creates a product that makes sense for me as a next step.

"I enjoyed your 16 easy steps. I think the list will come in handy for those just getting started at a time when photography has so many options. I followed most of your recommendations when I first started shopping for digital gear back in the day. I found it reassuring to take a strategic and systematic approach to my purchases. I started my DSLR journey with an APS-C kit and then once a year, after receiving my tax refund, I’d purchase a quality full-frame lens. I now shoot full-frame and still use the fine lenses I purchased many years ago."

Bear.: "Just four easy steps for me.

"Step 1. Research, consider, make comparison tables, worry about necessary and unnecessary features, bug camera stores for trials, make up my mind but constantly change it about everything from sensor size, to type, to lens and accessory range, to brand, etc.. This step may take so long that it needs to be repeated several times over several years because every camera on the list is upgraded or replaced, or the manufacturer wholly exits the market, or whole new systems are introduced into the market. (Note. It is important not to enjoy this step but to agonize over every aspect of it: see note to Step 2).

"Step 2. Wait for something critical in my existing camera / system to permanently and irretrievably fail beyond repair or recall. (Note. The greater the agony and time spent on Step 1, the longer Step 2 will take, which saves money).

"Step 3. Wholly disregarding everything at Step 1, impulse purchase a new camera / system based on a wholly irrelevant consideration. For example, because of a sale—naturally, a 10% discount on a $6k camera that I don't particularly need or want necessarily amounts to a saving which equals or exceeds the whole cost of a $3k camera that I do. Or because a camera is particularly useful for a type of photography that I know I will never undertake (say, astrophotography or underwater photography) but because it is remotely possible that I just might, one day, try. (Note. The less relevant the consideration, the more likely the particular camera / system will be impulse purchased.)

"Step 4. Use new camera / system extensively and discover that whatever it is that I have purchased, its capabilities far exceed my needs or abilities, which realistically might be met by a Kodak Brownie. (Note. This discovery will start a thought process that if I had only spent more time and agony choosing the correct camera / system, my photography would 'improve,' and that I should therefore consider a different camera/ system: see step 1.)"

James Sinks: "...And then buy a D700."

Five Film Cameras (FTY Experiment, Update 2)

El Inglés asked: "Does this [the "Sweet Sight" post] mean you've chosen the OM-2 as your weapon of choice for the 35mm part of your [FTY] challenge?"

[Ed. Note: "FTY" means my 20-Rolls-of-Film "Forward to Yesterday" Experiment.]

So as not to be coy or cute, I'll just put the answer out there. Right now it looks like I'll be trying (left to right) a Contax RTS II, a Pentax SL, an Olympus OM-2N, a Nikon FE, and a Pentax LX. It's a combination of what I already owned, one I was given as a gift (which initiated this whole thing), and ones I purchased for the project. I'll shoot at least one roll of film with each of these cameras so as to discuss them.

I'm thinking of adding a certain "modern" AF 35mm camera to the mix too, maybe, but we'll see about that. I need to watch my expenses.

Also, there's no telling yet how much energy this project will have. Again, we're several months away from starting the posts, and several people have bet that I'll never get it done, which is quite possible, so "don't hold your breath or you'll turn blue."

I plan to try several medium-format cameras as well. These include a Pentax 645NII, a Rolleiflex 6008AF, a Rollei TLR, and a Yashicamat 124G. I want to shoot at least one roll of film in each of these cameras so I can discuss them. Of these, the Pentax and the Rollei TLR are borrowed and the other two I already owned from times gone by.

I actually have two of the Rolleiflex 6008AF SLRs, both of which are, as far as I can detect, absolutely LN. I got them as "open box" units from a seller in Japan back when they were just too cheap to pass up. Tried to sell them about ten years ago but couldn't get a decent price.

Only two of these cameras have been overhauled. John Titterington did the overhaul of the Olympus, and Mark Hama did the Yashicamat 124G.

I was pleased to find that my LX I thought was dead could be coaxed back to life again—it had a jammed finder which finally came loose, and I had long thought the meter was dead, but it isn't. The Rolleiflex SLRs were hampered by aging batteries but I've figured out how to solve that problem. (It had to be explained to me slowly and carefully.) You can get the innards of the batteries rebuilt; the scarce bits are the battery housings, but fortunately I bought a number of those when I got the cameras.

By the way, I want to thank all of you who have offered all sorts of film-related donations and loans, including, well, film! Lots of people have, and I'm behind on replying. For the most part I don't think I'll be needing anything else. However, grateful thanks for the offers, and for your kindness and support.

Please note!
As an aside, I want to emphasize that I'm neither advocating, nor will I be practicing, a complete "return to film" or a renunciation of digital imaging in any way, shape, or form. If I wanted to ride horseback again (something I did a lot of when I was young) I wouldn't sell my car and vow never to drive a motor vehicle again. 'Nuff said?

Mike

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

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Featured Comments from:

PWL: "What!!! Not a Minolta among them??? Sir, I am dismayed. (Sigh.) Even now, Minolta gets no respect...."

Phil: "I'm keen to hear what you make of all this as you work your way through it. I had my own back-to-film experiences starting about three years ago. The thing that really helped me is that I found that when I was shooting with film again, I slowed down and thought more carefully about framing and timing before firing the shutter: something I had learned to do at the beginning because film was expensive and you only had (what now feels like) a few frames on a roll. I find that has re-informed my digital photography, so to speak. I think I'm a better digital photographer now that I'm practicing some of those early lessons that film taught me."

John Igel: "Doesn't interest me in the slightest. Let me know when you start writing about digital cameras again."

Gary: "I will be following this with great interest, so don't slack, OK?"

David Comdico: "I'm looking forward to the film posts at TOP. The Olympus OM-2N is a fabulous camera. Small, great lenses, and an amazing viewfinder. It is a wonder how large it is for a such a small body. But I'm not sure you can really appreciate a camera or get to know it until you have used it for a while. Twenty rolls in one camera might do it. Regarding those 20 rolls of film, that's a mere 720 shots—an afternoon shooting digitally.  :-)   "

alex-virt: "I think if you just wanted to shoot film you would get one good modern SLR and just...shoot film. But this battery of half-century-old iron cameras clearly shows that your real intention is to relive the sensations of your youth. I'm afraid you're in for a big disappointment. Sorry.  :-)  "

Ross Attix: "GAS."

Tim Bradshaw: "So you're going to shoot 20 rolls of film over how many cameras? Seriously? Since I bought my CLE about two years ago I've shot 40 rolls in it. I'm somewhere near comfortable with it now, although I made the mistake of changing film stock at least once (not entirely my fault: Kodak are seriously taking the piss with the price of Tri-X). In another area, I've played my Gibson ES175 for maybe 20 years, all of that time with the same string gauges: I'm finally getting pretty comfortable with it, although the frets are now kind of worn. Seriously: pick a camera, pick a lens, pick a film, pick a paper, pick chemistry. Use that combination, a lot. Don't flit between cameras like some kind of insect. There's some guy who taught me this: I think he wrote a blog called 'The Online'...something? I forget the details. He knew what he was talking about: he wouldn't have done this."

Random Excellence: Lake Effect Snow

Photo courtesy NASA

In the third year of its 13-year service life, NASA's Sea-Viewing Wide Field-of-View Sensor, a satellite-borne imager, SeaWIFS for short, captured this fabulous picture of lake-effect snow being created by the Great Lakes, North America's freshwater inland seas. Cold winds sweeping down from the frigid Canadian plains on December 5th, 2000, pick up heat and moisture from Lake Nipigon, Lake Superior, and Lake Michigan, creating clouds which deposit snow further downwind.

In this picture you can see the entire State of Wisconsin, from the Western boundary tracing the Mississippi River to the coastline of Lake Michigan, its Eastern boundary. At the crook of the "thumb" is the small city of Green Bay. Chicago, Illinois, the largest city in the American Midwest, is in the clear patch to the left of the lowermost visible portion of the Lake; its effluent registers as a lighter color of blue in the picture. The "Wolf's Head" of Lake Superior is clearly seen.

 The outline of Lake Superior, northernmost of the five Great Lakes, is thought to resemble a wolf's head. Lake Michigan, at the lower left, is the only lake entirely within the boundaries of the United States; the other four lie between the United States and Canada.

SeaWIFS was created to collect ocean biological data and was primarily designed to quantify chlorophyll produced by marine phytoplankton. Its images are in the public domain unless used for commercial purposes. SeaWIFS ended its service life in 2010.

Mike
(Thanks to NASA and Wikipedia)

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

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Rob de Loe: "Shout out to the United States and Canada for over a century of successful cooperation managing (and avoiding) water problems across the international boundary! The Boundary Waters Treaty was completed in 1909, and since that day the International Joint Commission (a bi-national body created under the Treaty) has been helping Canada and the US protect and restore the Great Lakes and our other shared boundary waters. If you're not a water person you might not even be aware of this amazing success story.

"P.S. The image is fantastic. I love photographs that are a bit ambiguous and borderline abstract."

Dye Transfer Sale Update

Ctein reports that all fully-paid orders from the incredibly successful Black Friday Dye Transfer Sale have been delivered, according to the United States Postal Service. If you haven't gotten your prints yet, please contact him directly at ctein@pobox.com.

He will review his new Tesla soon!

Mike

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Learning and Looking

Honesty: isn't it refreshing? Adam Paul of "A Quirky Guy With a Camera" said this at the outset of a 2017 review:

"I'm not a photographer. Though I may occasionally use my 'Spidey Senses' and put forth some wonderful results, I'm not a 100% true, dyed in the changing bag cloth, 'photographer.'

"I'd best describe my make up as one part photographer, one part history buff, one part collector, and one part 'gear head.' The result is a quirky guy who likes using multiple classic old cameras to take photos."

Helps to know yourself!

I'm not a photographer either, I'm sad to admit, although at one time I dearly wanted to be one. I'm one part photographer, two parts writer, and one part gearhead.

Maybe three parts writer.

The kind of photographer I wanted to be, back when, was what was called an "art photographer," as well as a fine-art printmaker. "Art photographer" is not a mainstream term any more; at the time it was an ordinary term, at least in Washington D.C. where I studied. It meant someone who didn't do assignments but photographed anything he or she wanted to photograph, sold prints for money, had shows in galleries, placed prints in museum collections, and published the occasional book. Many photographers work that way still, although most of them are older now.

I lacked something...perhaps talent, or drive, or self-belief, or something urgent to say, or consistency—the kind of consistency that imparts an identity that other people can grasp easily. (You need that, to become known.) One thing I'll give myself is that I didn't lack for a work ethic. I worked diligently. But a lot of what I worked hard at was learning, and looking. Rather than creating.

Another thing that might have hampered me, if I'm honest, was a mismatch between the type of photographs I aspired to make and my temperament and personality. I've long been convinced that people gravitate to making the kinds of photographs that are comfortable for them to make—that match their psychological make-up, you might say. A person who is introverted and likes solitude might gravitate to landscape, for instance. An adrenaline junkie might become a combat or adventure photographer. A person who loves problem-solving and a variety of challenges might become a studio advertising photographer, working to realize the visions of agency art directors.

I remember hearing about a wedding photographer who loved going to weddings. He thought they were great parties, he was wholly susceptible to the sentimental romantic vibe (which I always assumed was three-fifths fake—which says more about me than about weddings), and he was all-in with the idea that his pictures were going to be treasured by the lucky couple forevermore. He adored being a wedding photographer. He couldn't imagine how any other kind of photography could be more fulfilling.

...Whereas I've done two weddings in my entire life. I'm proud of the job I did in each case—I worked very hard and finished each of the jobs responsibly, although in both cases it took me a long time—but as far as I'm concerned, two weddings is plenty for one career! Two per weekend in season? I'd rather be a museum guard (my nightmare job, because I fear being bored).

Anyway, I like candid life-on-the-fly pictures of people going about their lives, but unfortunately I'm psychologically ill-suited to being able to take such pictures. I'm awkward with people. I radiate a sort of—what? Standoffishness, or reserve, or formality—that doesn't tend to put people at ease. And I have to fight against getting flustered and anxious when interrelating with subjects. I do get the occasional success, of course (because photography is like fishing—get your line in the water, and every now and then you catch one), but I wasn't made for the job. Ironic pictures of empty, lonely spaces and quirky, odd found objects, those are things my particular temperament is better suited for. But I don't really like taking that kind of picture and I'm not especially moved by the results.

The great photographers of people tend to either be forthrightly brash and brazen, simply taking the pictures they want without reticence or shyness, or else they're so mild and unthreatening that they blend into the background and become invisible, or they tend to be "people people." Bruce Gilden might be the paradigm of the first type. Helen Levitt or Vivian Maier (or so I imagine) might stand for the second type, while Alfred "Eisie" Eisenstadt was an exemplar of the third type. Even Jackie Kennedy, who famously hated being photographed, loved Eisie, and let him get close to her with his Leicas.

My early mentor, Steve Szabo, when students asked him, "What should I photograph?", would answer, "What can you photograph?" It's a subtle question. It has to do not only with what you have access to, or your skills, but what kind of person you are.

Know thyself.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

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Featured Comments from:

Wenshu Chen: "I like taking pictures of people on the street and did get some good ones. But there were a couple of great pictures I only took with my eyes although I had my camera with me; I just didn’t have the guts to raise it. I wish I were a bit more aggressive in terms of getting a good frame."

Lars Jansen: "Re 'I'm awkward with people, I radiate a sort of—what? Standoffishness, or reserve, or formality—that doesn't tend to put people at ease, and I have to fight against getting flustered and anxious when interrelating with subjects': Yep, that's me. All the talk about getting out of your comfort zone does not tackle the problem that you need particular skills to do (for example) good street photography. In the case of people photography, you also need a genuine interest in people. So I'll just enjoy what others can create when photographing people, I would only radiate the intent to create a picture, not interest in the person.

"Probably why you are good at more formal portraits: you are in control of the environment and moment, and you do have that sincere interest in the other person. Actually, come to think of it: I think you would be able to do a form of street photography with people; just not the fast version where you quickly snap pictures of passers-by. Maybe first a conversation and then a more formal impromptu portrait on the street?"

Patrick Murphy: "I love your writing, especially when it adds the personal to the general. Kind of like the delicious icing on a fundamental cake. This was an insightful post, and also potentially helpful to persons starting out or struggling with expressing their photographic vision. To do really good work, I think you have to know yourself. You hit it on the head—go where your strengths and interests are. Simple, but not a lot of people really listen to their inner voice. You do that well and that permeates your writing. (P.S.—Plus you can change lives. I'm on a plant-based whole food diet because of you, so thanks!)"

marcin wuu: "I'm not either. I'm a portraitist. I just happen to use camera to make my portraits. If I didn't have a camera, I'd draw, paint, sculpt or whatever else medium I'd have on hand. It just happened photographic portraiture is so easy, and I'm lazy."

Mim: "Thanks for putting this so clearly Mike. I have a photography mentor who keeps pushing me to 'stretch myself' into genres (like portraiture) that I'm temperamentally not suited for. I keep trying to tell him that I'm happy to stretch in other ways but that portraiture doesn't work (and after 40+ years I should know).

"I have a talent for abstracts, landscape details, and a bunch of other things. Portraits, I can occasionally grab a good one but it's luck, not good management. I'm catching a candid rather than eliciting a response. Interestingly, most people that do have the right knack/personality seem to think that it's something that can be learnt, whereas to me it's clearly something innate that I just don't have despite decades of trying to learn.

"We have a tradition in the extended family to leave cameras around at family occasions and it's noticeable that almost everyone else's people photos are better than mine. Meanwhile I'm the only one who is at all serious about photography, and my non-portrait photos are streets ahead of theirs.

"I'll 'stick to my knitting' and build on my strengths rather than bash away at my weaknesses with very little result."

David Dyer-Bennet: "'Know yourself' is such a classic concept. True, even useful, to some extent even actionable (there are ways to test self-knowledge some, ways to increase it in some directions; though none of them are so magically powerful they can overcome an absolute mental unwillingness to see yourself).

"And this may be one of the most valuable posts on TOP, despite being short and only barely about photography (the examples are all from photography, but the principles apply universally).

"I've known I was a 'documentary' photographer from before I got in the darkroom. When I first got a camera (negatives back to second grade, so the camera was then or a little earlier) my interest was things in my world to share with others. While I play at other things, 'art' in the various forms largely, it's the documentation I really value (and some landscape, etc., is partly interesting as documentary, to me; that's what Ansel Adams, one of my early and ongoing favorites, thought he was doing for example).

"While I've done stuff that's essentially 'product photography,' for me it was for documenting the objects, or the process of working on the objects, or something. And I do not love working even one-quarter as carefully as a good product photographer has to to produce professional results.

"Weddings come fairly naturally, though—they're just a particular flavor of event photography, which is all about documenting the event. I've avoided commercial wedding photography (did one wedding for strangers) because the stress level of the primary participants can be challenging, and because the stakes are high, but that's a rational decision, not an emotional dislike of the work. I shot weddings for friends each of the last two years, and it was fun. (My friends' weddings tend not to be heavy on sentimental romantic vibe, which is fine with me.)

"I'm also getting more and more into collecting and organizing older photos of things I'm interested in, largely science fiction fandom. Making the documentary work available to people! It's all connected impulses."

JOHN B GILLOOLY: "I recall a time when I learned a bit about myself as a photographer. On a great trip to the Galapagos, I realized that what I love to photograph is people. That is something the Galapagos offered very little of. People intrigue me. I'm at ease with them. I'm very comfortable photographing them. And I like the challenge of disarming them for the process of photographing them. My next trip was to Cuba."

Gary Nylander: "Interesting when you say that people gravitate to making photographs that are comfortable for them to make. That's good advice. Although for me I was definitely stepping out of my comfort zone when I started my newspaper career in 1976. I didn't really plan on being a newspaper photographer, nor did I think that it would be something that I would enjoy doing for my entire working life. When I started my photography career I was 18 years of age and very shy. I guess you could say I didn't really know thyself, although that changed very quickly. Before my high school graduation, I had aspirations to be a photographer of some kind and had knocked on the doors of local photo studios which didn't get me anywhere. One day my father suggested I try the local newspaper, a new weekly had just started publishing a few doors down from the auto-body shop where he worked.

"So I went in there and talked to one of the owners, I showed him some of my pictures, he gave me some film, that led to me hanging around then I started doing the film development and printing for them. Three months later I was doing photo assignments for the paper and before the year was out I was on staff. From there I moved onto a small daily newspaper in Ontario then moved back to my home province of British Columbia and spent the majority of my career at another small daily in Kelowna, B.C.

"All in all a very enjoyable 41-year career. Even at smaller size newspapers, the job can be rough and tough and very competitive. Not really the kind of photography made for a guy like myself who is introverted and likes solitude, and yes, I did gravitate to making landscape photos on my time off. Anyways always good to know thyself or get to know thyself as the journey proceeds. Sometimes taking a more challenging pathway in photography can also be rewarding."

Random Excellence: David Saxe

David Saxe, from Dancin'

Santa Fe photographer (and TOP reader) David Saxe says: "Wherever I have been, I have always come across people dancing. In bars, in the street, or at home—people always dance. They dance to express joy, sadness and life itself. In this series of photographs, I explore these rhythms, and passions, of people expressing their joy, while they gently glide along a floor or a street, to the sounds of life."

The whole portfolio should be seen. It's on his website under "Dancin'." It will make you feel a little better!

Mike

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Pierre Charbonneau: "Charming portfolio, classic B&W and a beautiful collection of nice moments. Love it, feel better indeed."

Kenneth Tanaka: "David Saxe does, indeed, have some lovely thematic project work on his site. 'Dancin'' is very good but 'Bad Dreams' is my favorite work shown. (Probably because I did a slightly similar book project titled 'Of Dreams' some years ago.) Terrific, strong work Mr. Saxe."

Michel Hardy-Vallée: "David Saxe is also the brother of Henry Saxe, an important Canadian sculptor."

Sweet Sight

eBay photo by John Titterington

I have to say, I am just delighted to be able to focus manual cameras again. I can even focus this old beastie, which came out the year I graduated from high school. (This model is popular with young film-camera fans, I hear.)

The way it went was something like this—first I strangely began to drift toward rangefinder cameras, blaming SLR focusing screens for my subtly increasing troubles detecting focus, before becoming aware that the problem was with my eye. Then, having to hunt down diopters of increasing strength, or buy only cameras that had built-in diopter correction—I ended up needing a little more than –2, call it –2 1/4. I had to give up my beautiful Agfa Super Isolette because I was unwilling to desecrate it by gluing a –2 diopter lens over the viewfinder. Finally, switching to left-eyed focusing and viewing on cameras, which is one big reason I liked the Panasonic GX8 so much—there are not many better cameras for the left-eyed out there. 

Then, my partial cornea replacement and lens implant last June 4th. And now—drumroll!—I can focus old manual-everything cameras easily again with no correction on either my eye or the finder!

Bliss. Blessing. The best! And lucky. I never imagined this would happen. So pleased.

That is all. Just couldn't resist sharing.

Mike
(Thanks to JT)

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Earl Dunbar: "This makes me very happy."

RP Sagner: "Congrats! I've gotten bored with digital photography over the last couple years and have gone back to the OM-2 for a lot of my shooting. It's really rewarding."

Len Metcalf: "These stunning Olympus cameras is where I learnt. Not my first camera but the ones I cut my teeth on, so as to speak. I had the same one and two OM-1’s. And some gorgeous lenses to match. I so loved them. It’s nostalgia that leads me to still love the brand and stick with them and their digital counterparts. I loved the focusing screen that came standard. I dislike the split image type that is popular in their contemporaries. Am sitting here with some pangs of jealousy. Enjoy."

Great Escapes (Your Shot of the Day) (OT)

[Note: This post is invisible to Muggles.]

Happy to report that Dresden Hotel, my Pool League team, won last night 8-1 and are still in first place in the County. But boy, did we win ugly. And my partner and I were responsible for the only loss—we stunk it up on that rack. Didn't get the rolls and couldn't keep the white ball out of the hole.

I redeemed myself by making a difficult shot on the 8-ball as the final shot of the match. The cue ball was right over a corner pocket, about a sixteenth of an inch away from being corner-hooked, and the eight ball was on a dead straight line to the opposite corner about two-thirds of the way down table. I had to shoot jacked up to keep the cue ball from following. That's the kind of shot they call a "tester" and I passed the test, pretty as you please.

Moving the white ball around the table is the game, at the higher levels. Check out this simple sequence of two shots by German phenom Josh Filler, playing against his Russian counterpart Fedor Gorst—two of the hottest young talents in the game right now.

The game they're playing is 9-ball, where you must contact the lowest-numbered ball on the table first. We join the action at 25:25 as Fedor, in his seat, knocks a cue to the floor. That's something that could be interpreted as sharking* if you did it at the wrong time. Josh has ball in hand, meaning he can place the cue ball on the table anywhere he wants. He has to shoot the blue 2-ball. But his red 3-ball is "tied up" and doesn't have a pocket. Watch as he brilliantly engineers a simple shot on the red three...and then keep watching to see how he gets back to the other end of the table for the pink 4-ball (if you look carefully before he shoots the red three, you can see him point with his cue to the spot on the table where he wants the cue ball to end up for the pink four).

Simple but elegant...and deceptively difficult. No clue about the whistling in the background!

If you keep watching, next is the orange five (watch how he goes all the way to the rail and back out—pros seldom try to "hold" the cue ball except when they have to), the dark green six, the black eight, and out.

Nothing to this game.

Filler is a genuine phenomenon—Gorst is a big talent who will be a top player for many years if he works hard, but he "plays his age" more than Filler, showing his talent more sporadically. Filler on the other hand is a Mozart.

Filler behind the 8-ball

For a bonus, there's a wonderful escape shot if you go to 7:35 in the same match. As Fedor shoots the red three he is also trying to move the pink four, which is tied up. But he misses the breakout. So he "plays safe"—that's when you deliberately give your opponent a hidden target to make things tough for him. (Notice Filler's expression in the background—he knows exactly what's about to happen.) When Filler comes to the table he has to hit the pink ball first, but the 8-ball is in the way. (If you ever wondered where the expression "behind the eight ball" comes from, now you know, although the expression no doubt came from the game of 8-ball. In 9-ball any ball but the one you're on can be a blocking ball.) Watch what Filler does.

Amazing shot. Great escapes are some of the best shots in pool.

That's it for pool for March!

Mike

*The word "sharking" is frequently confused with hustling by people who don't play pool, and even by some who do. A person who tries to elicit a bigger bet from an amateur player by hiding his true skill level until the big money is on the table is a hustler. A shark is somebody who tries to distract his opponent as the opponent is making a shot. For instance, my friend I play pool with, a few days ago, waited until I was down on a critical shot and said, "I wonder what ----- looks like naked," naming a woman he knows I have a bit of a crush on. That's sharking. There was a famous old-time shark who was notorious for moving directly into his opponent's line of sight and, with exquisite timing, whipping out his handkerchief or striking a kitchen match to light his cigar just as his opponent brought the cue forward to hit the ball.

Interestingly, Earl Woods, for several months, deliberately heckled his son Tiger as Tiger practiced, to get him inured to it. One day Tiger said, that's enough now, Dad, I got it. At the bar where we played last night, which is known for being rowdy and where the path from the kitchen to the bar area goes right past the pool table, you'd best not be too easily distracted.

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Open Mike: People Don't Like Rangefinders

People don't like rangefinders. They like Leicas.

—Mike Johnston

I've been shopping* for oldster cameras for my 20-Rolls-of-Film project. It has been entertaining.

One thing I've noticed again is that prices for rangefinders tend to be high. That seems to be true whether you're looking at the last Bronica, the then-all-new medium-format vertical-format RF645 rangefinder made after Tamron bought Bronica prior to the latter's demise; or the made-by-Minolta almost-a-Leica CLE compact rangefinder that was one of the periodic threats to Leica's market; the modern Mamiya 6 (there's a much older camera of the same name) that came to be because the then-President of Mamiya in Japan was a Leica fanatic; or the rare early Japanese Leica copies you can explore on Stephen Gandy's CameraQuest site which are all sought after because Leica collectors want them for their collections. Some are priced higher than the real thing because there aren't as many of them around.

But really, the majority of photographers have never liked rangefinder cameras all that much.

What they like are Leicas.

This isn't going to be an exhaustive history, but there have been many attempts over the years to one-up the Wizards of Wetzlar. And the Champ knocks every one of them to the canvas. In many cases, the would-be competitors were trying to help Leica...they didn't want to vanquish the King, they wanted to show fealty to the King. Hard to say which approach is worse! Either one seems to doom the supplicants.

For example, rumor has it that Leica was directly responsible for the demise of the otherwise well-loved Epson RD-1, an early 6-MP digital rangefinder made by Cosina for Epson that was one of the early cameras to use the Leica M lensmount after it came out of patent protection. The story is that Leica went to Epson and begged them to kill the RD-1 lest the RD-1 kill Leica, which was struggling mightily to bring out its own digital M camera and had not yet, at that time, succeeded. The Land of the Rising Sun, the Isle of the Camera, where Leica is revered, acquiesced.

There was the Konica Hexar RF, another camera that, according to rumor, was originally developed to be a Leica rather than compete with it. Supposedly, Konica offered the camera to Leica to be branded and sold as a Leica, and Leica turned it down. With a Leica M mount, Leica M form factor, but thoroughly modern-at-the-time technology that leapfrogged the M concept decades into the future, you would have thought that Leica fans would have embraced the Hexar RF like a long-lost sibling. But no. They saw it as a threat to the German marque, and tore into it with a vengeance, slathering it with slander and thoroughly destroying any chance it had of becoming cool. I used to quietly note the occasions when Hexar RF owners would apologize for choosing to shoot with one. Konica quit the field not long after**.

The Zeiss Ikon, which was so generically named that people spontaneously dubbed it the Zeiss Ikon ZI just so it would have a real name, was yet another intelligent attempt to improve the peccadilloes of the M—it had a longer rangefinder baselength and film-loading that was as sensible as every other modern camera's, among other improvements—but it was made by—horrors!—Cosina, and that would never do. Cosina by then was making all its Voigtländer M-mount rangefinders, which Leica didn't see as a threat because they were all safely entry-level in nature, territory Leica itself did not deign to occupy.

Even Leica tried to kill the M cameras, and Leica itself failed! Read the story of Elcan, Ernst Leitz Canada, where the great Walther Mandler voyaged to the wilderness with all the old tooling for the M4 cameras that Wetzlar considered surplus to requirements. There, he made the M4-2 and the M4-P as legacy products and designed the tabbed 50mm Summicron as (I'm convinced) a budget lens. The company was going to move into SLRs, which turned out to be a decidedly spotty venture all the way until the end of the film era.

But the rangefinder would not quietly freeze to death in the Canadian cold. People wanted Leicas. (There's a parallel with Porsche: people want 911's.)

Now, of course, Leica is safe. It is the only carriage-trade, Veblen-good camera brand, and its digital products are well established. I consider digital M cameras to be essentially replicas, like modern copies of classic cars, but the only one in the world who agrees with me on that is...well, me. Regardless, the current M10, I hear, is a refined and sufficiently-iterated product and quite a nice camera. It has even slimmed back down to proper M proportions...the M8 and its followers were corpulent, M's that had eaten too much fat and bon-bons. The obese digital M's felt wrong in the hand to those weaned on proper film M's. I stand by the statement.

The current earnest and sincere Leica wannabe is the Fuji X-Pro3. Is there any doubt at all that it's a better "rangefinder-type" camera in virtually every conceivable way than an M10? No. But that's being objective, and this is not and has never been an evaluation where objectivity has any place at all. History demonstrates emphatically that people don't want a better Leica...they want a Leica. The X-Pro3 is safe from the Loyal Legions of Leicaphiliacs only because Leica is safe now. Leica survived; it's doing well; its M product lineup is everything it should be and everything the company wants it to be. The pretender is not a threat...and thus does not have to be chased through the streets with pitchforks and firebrands. If you shoot with an X-Pro3 you're only shooting with a camera. Not a legend.

My friend Kent's former M4. This is the one with the pinhole in
the chrome of the top plate that you could only see
with a magnifying glass. Otherwise it was perfect.

Which one?
The point of all this is that if you want a film rangefinder camera, don't bother mucking about with with any of the pretenders: the Nikon and Canon rangefinders from the '50s and '60s like the underrated Canon 7; the "Texas Leica" Fuji 6x7s and 6x9s or any of the other medium-format approximations; the exquisite little CLE with its complicated history vis-à-vis Die Vaterfirma; or any of the others. 'Twill not do. What you want is the real deal, the red dot, the legend, the lore, the secret handshakes, the classic movie-star good looks, the lineage straight back to Barnack. You want to be part of the fraternity/sorority of all the Leica greats. When it comes to rangefinders there is only one true club—be a member.

All Leica rangefinders have what you want in a rangefinder: namely, they're Leicas. There's not a one of them that can rightly be scorned, not the one-off M5, the little clunker CL, the old hair-shirt Barnack cameras with separate viewfinder and rangefinder windows for which you have to clip the film leader with scissors, even the M8 that everyone had to pretend to love and a few stalwarts actually did. Leicas are the best and all Leicas are Leicas. Any of them will do. I'm serious, any of them.

My Leica. Between five feet and infinity, I could set focus
accurately by feel, using the tab on the lens.

But if you want the best of the best, I'd suggest one of two. Most practical is an M6, Leica's "other" great success (the first being the M3 that dominated the 1950s and sold more cameras that probably all the M cameras since, and which in my opinion is the best-looking camera ever made). It was created when the company cunningly added a manual light meter to an M4-P. The light meter doesn't do anything but take a light reading. It's handier than having a separate light meter with you, and easier than guessing your exposures. The M6 was the film M camera's second wind, its glorious sunset.

For an M6 to the manor born, choose a Leitz-labeled sample. (Mine was a Solms model.)

The best Leica of all, in my opinion, the icon of the icons, is the M4. No less an authority than Sherry Krauter, the renowned Leica repairperson, once told me that the Wetzlar M4 was the not only the best-built of all the film M cameras, but also the only one that had no evolution in its build-quality and materials quality from its first serial number to its last. All the others either went up in quality over their lifespans, or (yep, this happened too), down.

Loosening up
I'm not going in that direction for my 20-Rolls-of-Film project. No rangefinders for me this time around—much as I love them, I don't shoot as well with them. I learned on SLRs. But, thanks to Dan Khong, I caught up with the LUG's latest annual the other day (the LUG is the Leica User Group). I was pleased to find a number of familiar names—it's especially nice to see that Ted Grant and Tina Manley are still going strong. Outstanding old-school photographers, both of them. And I was interested to learn that the group has become more ecumenical. It was fiercely—almost angrily—brand-ideological during my long-ago sojourn there. But they've loosened up and become more liberal, allowing pictures into the album that were made with all sorts of cameras.

From the preface: "So even though we are the Leica Users Group, not all of us are still able to use the Leicas of our younger years or afford to buy newer models. As editor, I was happy to include pictures taken by people who once used Leicas (and thus know what 'Leica Photography' means) but can’t use their Leicas any more. There are four phone-camera pictures in this book." (Thanks to Michael Perini for finding the quote.)

By that standard I know what Leica photography means. I shot with an M6 for three years and an M4 for one, and (although it's not a rangefinder) I have particularly fond memories of using an R4 with Michael Hintlian's Mandler-designed 35mm Summicron-R. Those were technically some of the prettiest pictures I ever made.

It's great that the LUG has decided that it's more important to support the members of its own community rather than be bound to equipment loyalties per se. Cameras are essential, and they are a separate delight and a wonderful diversion, but in the end, pictures and people matter more.

Mike

*Madly and happily. And getting a few loaners and bequests, too. Thanks to Fred Morrison, Jay Burleson, John Camp, John Sarsgard, and Earl Dunbar, among others.

**Hexar RF: 1999. Konica's merger with Minolta: 2003. Konica-Minolta quits the retail camera business: 2007. (Konica was older than Kodak! The company still makes OEM products, including lenses.)

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Rick in CO (partial comment): "Mike, I disagree with your subheading; I much prefer a rangefinder camera and the Leica M is presently the only full-frame digital RF available. The stories about the Epson RD-1 and the Konica Hexar, unless factually substantiated, should be filed under 'fake news.'"

Mike replies: I thought the more established term, "rumor," worked pretty well....

Steve Rosenblum (partial comment): "Well, I must be a sucker for rangefinders as I own all of the cameras that you mentioned except for the Leicas, though I have owned two Leica M's in the past. Yes, I know, it's a sickness, it is. It is nice for me that the market has driven up their values as now I can feel so smart about having bought them when they cost less, instead of joining a 12-step group for GAS."

Giovanni Maggiora: "Well, Mike....we all know you have no sweet spots for Leica, and nobody's going to hold a grudge against you for that. It's Mike, and we love him for his quirks. Been loving him for a long time now...I don't know about others.

"But I'll tell you why shooting a Leica is unlike shooting any other camera. To me, of course. (And I've shot Nikon SLRs for twenty years through the '90s, and I'm happy shooting the Ricoh GR now.) It's the viewfinder. I don't know of any other camera (I may have not been lucky trying enough of them) which makes you forget there's a viewfinder between you and the subject. It's transparent, as in: not there. You're not looking into a finder, you're not looking at an eye-level screen, you're not looking through a tunnel. It's you and the subject, and a gentle hint of where your frame will end. That's it. I can't stop loving that feeling. Strong enough to make me put up with all of the inconveniences that should push me elsewhere (most likely to Fujifilm these days, have been already swayed once, by the X100S). Strong enough, I guess, to have killed any of those 'other' old rangefinders which did not quite cut it on the viewfinder front (never had the chance to compare). It may have become a Veblen good as you say. But hey, be that what it may if that was the way to save the company, and that viewfinder glory."

Mike replies: I think my problem is that I always insist on considering Leicas like they're just cameras. That's what gives me an anti-Leica rap. Actually, if you recall, when I came up with the OCOLOY idea, I recommended that a Leica rangefinder would be the best camera for the exercise...the post was even called "The Leica as Teacher." And I doubled down on the advice in a follow-up post, called "Why It Has to Be a Leica." And I wrote a well-known eoncomium to the film Leicas (which were all there were at the time) called "Leicaphilia." So I don't think it's fair to paint me as a Leica-basher. At least not an unregenerate one. And hey, you have to acknowledge that a large number of the great photographers in history—at least among those who do the kind of photography I like best—used (or use) rangefinders, and many of them chose Leicas.

anthony reczek: "Hey! Disparaging my Fuji 6x7 film camera, which I've had for the greater part of three decades? Uh, so what if I haven't used it in the last two of those? I originally bought it for the Fuji lens, and medium format capabilities. Truth be told, though, there were not that many keepers, which I attribute to never quite getting the hang of the format for my primary passion, landscape photography. So perhaps that's why it was put on the back burner and eventually taken off the stove. Been shooting digital since about 2004 (though I still have a bunch of medium format film in the fridge). Hmm, looks like I proved your point. Complaint withdrawn."

Not THAT Ross Cameron: "And there I was thinking LUG stood for LEGO User Group. I has been edumacated  :~)  ."

Mike replies: I gather you already knew about this....

MartinD (partial comment): "As regards Leica vs. the rest, I'm not entirely sure where your sarcasm ends and your true opinion begins, so I will stay away from that aspect...."

Mike replies: I'm just having fun. No worries.  :-)

J Williams (partial comment): "I still cannot understand why Leica RFs are...well...RFs. What purpose does an optical RF serve when focus peaking or magnification work so well and are not subject to any of the potential mechanical problems of RFs? I just don't understand its use in a modern digital camera."

Mike replies: That's kind of why I call it a replicam. It repeats some of the forms of the past even when there's no reason to. The removable bottom plates were (are?) the best (worst?) case in point. It was a questionable design when the rationale was to keep the body cavity rigid for film transport, but in a digital camera it's purely vestigial and nostalgic. But hey, if it's what fans want, that's cool.

Andre Y: "It's sort of an open secret that the more recent, high-performing Nikon lenses (F-mount 28mm ƒ/1.4E, 105mm ƒ/1.4E, 19mm ƒ/4 PC-E, and most of the Z-mount lenses) are designed or co-designed by Konica-Minolta based on patents filed for lens designs. The camera industry is nothing if not incestuous!"

Mark Sampson: "This quote applies to Leica users...from one of Patrick O'Brian's 'Aubrey-Maturin' novels. Here, Capt. Aubrey is contemplating some bold action: 'Sailors were as conservative as cats, he knew; they could put up with almost anything, but it had to be what they were used to, or they would grow sullen and uncooperative....' Having worked with Leica M cameras for over thirty years, I can include myself in that description."

Tina Manley: "Thanks, Mike! This old school photographer just got back from six weeks in Laos and Cambodia, using only Leicas, so I guess I'm still going strong! I did sink in a river with my Monochrome and SL. The Monochrome is dead but the SL and I are fine. Since I had cataract surgery, I can now focus all of my old Leicas again! There is nothing like them."

Mike replies: Great to hear from you here Tina! Thanks.

Another Comparison

I mentioned a comparison in passing the other day about the same lens showing different kinds of bokeh in different situations. Here's another comparison...two examples of B&W tonality.

The first example might be considered to be "typical," very broadly, of fashionable digital B&W tonality. There's nothing wrong with the picture—but note the range of tones, the lack of grays, the overall balance between the predominant light tones and the predominant dark tones, the way the highlights tend to wash to sameness (lots of fashion photographers like that, and have for many years—they used to overexpose transparency film to get that effect).

The second example, to my eye at least, is more typical of film tonality. Take a look at that. Nothing special about it—not a famous lens, and the film is one that's actually not known for good tonality. But I doubt any informed photographer would not realize that this tonality is more typical of film. Note especially the rich midtones and the subtle gradations of the skin tone.

There's nothing wrong with either aesthetic. They're just different. But they do look different.

Juxtapose
I often enjoy looking through Flickr search pages because of these comparisons, and the accidental juxtapositions that happen. I had one all prepped to show you, but alas, I haven't been able to get in touch with the photographers for their permission. Can't wait forever. Suffice it to say that there are often pair of images that show up next to each other that are thought-provoking or effective in some way, or funny or just delightful (the one I prepped shows one picture of an old peasant woman with a cow next to a picture of a young woman in scanty workout clothes hanging from the netting of a soccer goal, both with remarkably similar expressions on their faces as they regard the camera).

Look again and the images have been shuffled and the combinations are different.

Mike

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Sunday Support Group: Mike's 'Forward to Yesterday' Experiment, Update 1

["Sunday Support Group" is a weekend feature in support of serious projects and madcap enthusiasms, whether on the part of readers or Yr. Hmbl. Ed. It is not always on topic.]

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Just a brief update: for my Quixotic (see lower illustration below) back-to-film "learning experience," I've decided to go against my longtime mindset and go ahead and use multiple cameras—both 35mm and 120. More about choices when things begin to sort out. But I'm immersed in things like shipping cameras out for overhauls and trying to find a place that can rebuild the batteries for my Rolleiflex 6008AF. (Yes, money is leaking from my bank account already, and I haven't processed a single roll of film yet.) I've also borrowed a Pentax 645NII (thanks, John S.) and am doing some experiments with an adapted lens on that.

Prices of film cameras have gone up quite a bit since the later 2000s and early 2010s. Another big change is that eBay is now listing auctions from Japan in the main search results—they used to show only local (US) results up top and segregate International results in a following section. You can select N. America or USA only in a preference menu in the sidebar, but it's no longer the default.

So I've seen a lot of Japanese auctions...and I have to say I am shocked at the brazenly dishonest descriptions used by many Japanese sellers. Non-working, parts-only cameras that are described as some species of "Mint" (as if there were more than one). Cameras that are thoroughly beat up described as "Exc+++++." (Five plus symbols seems to be a common convention, despite being as addleheaded and unnecessary as five exclamation points.) I was once lectured by a German buyer for describing a Leica M4 as "Mint" because he found a pinhole in the chrome plating of the top cover. When I admitted I couldn't see what he was talking about on the returned camera, he recommended that I inspect it as he had—with a magnifying glass! Using one, I did find the pinhole. The camera had almost certainly come from the factory that way.

The above camera was advertised as "Exc+++++" on eBay by a Japanese seller. Really?! The rewind knob is brassed. The rest of the camera looks just as bad. The gold standard for camera condition descriptions is KEH Camera in Atlanta, and I'm not sure KEH would offer that camera at all—they only buy good stuff to start with, so this would probably be a reject for them—but if they did, it would surely be listed as "UG," which is their lowest rating and means "Ugly." But let me just ask you—if you were a brazen scoundrel and were going to call such a camera "Exc," would you have the cojones to then add one plus sign, much less five of them?

I saw one camera that had paint worn away above the strap lug that was described as "Unused"!!!!! Wonder how that happens!!!!! The nerve of those jerks!!!!! They ought to be ashamed!!!!!

(Heh.)

Anyway, if an eBay listing for a film camera says "from Japan," your caveat emptor warning lights and sirens should go into full-on mode. Disgraceful.

Like homing pigeons
Thanks to a reader who wishes to remain anonymous but who knows who he is, I was able to recover most of the darkroom equipment I de-accessioned in 2014 when I moved from Wisconsin to New York. Imagine—to sell that stuff off and then having it come home again. This was a great (and improbable) stroke of good luck, and my grateful thanks go out to him.

Courtesy Public Domain Review

The windmill scene from Don Quixote, 1648 Frankfurt edition

A while back I bought a brand new in the box Saunders/LPL 670 enlarger from a school that had a number of them they were getting rid of. Since the enlarger came with a 50mm Apo-Rodagon bundled with it, I now have two. Which I don't need, but I can't bear to sell one without testing them against each other. I've also purchased a used 80mm ƒ/4 Apo-Rodagon for enlarging 120, and negative carriers. I'm still pretty far away from the first print in the basement.

I've chosen the film and paper I intend to start out with, but that requires evidence to make a final decision about, so I'll leave that for a later update. I'm aiming to be making prints by May—which, knowing me, probably means July.

That's all I know for now. I do need to reread the windmill scene in Don Quixote, I think!  :-)

Mike

P.S. Sorry this appears so late in the day. I thought I had published it this morning but inadvertently neglected to.

UPDATE Monday morning from raizans: I've also been appalled by how bad it's gotten in the last few years! Here's a slightly edited post of mine from Photrio (APUG forever!) on this issue:

There have been some podcast episodes and Youtube videos discussing recent changes in the market for film cameras on eBay. Apparently, non-Japanese sellers based in Japan have started selling cameras in poorer condition for the export market. Looks like demand really has grown a lot, and it's now worth scraping the barrel! Meanwhile, high demand within Japan for film cameras in good condition means that it makes more sense to sell them domestically.

The bad thing is that the non-Japanese sellers are ruining the reputation of Japanese sellers in general by inflating condition labels and trying to sell at higher prices; I've seen items take over a year to sell at these inflated prices. They also might be taking advantage of inexperienced buyers who don't know how to evaluate condition very well, i.e., members of Gen Z who are just getting into film photography.

Here's what the condition ratings really mean these days:

"Unused" = Like New or New Old Stock, sometimes down to Exc
"Top Mint" = Mint to Minty, sometimes down to Bargain
"Mint" = Exc to Bargain
"Near Mint" = Bargain to Ugly
"Exc +++++" = Ugly to As-Is

Mike replies: Thanks for that explanation, raizans. That makes sense. To other readers: see the Featured Comments below for some specific recommendations from other readers of honest Japanese and Japan-based camera dealers. I can't vouch for them myself, but I trust my readers.

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

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(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

Jonathan Hall: "Bellamy Hunt (AKA Japan Camera Hunter) has great service where he will source used cameras in the Japanese market. It's a much better option that rolling the dice on eBay. Just fill out the form on his website telling him what you want to buy and how much you want to spend and he'll email you back with options. I picked up a Mamiya 6 with 75mm lens described as 'Mint–' but for the life of me I could not find the minus. With shipping and PayPal costs it still came in at the lower boundary of the crop on eBay."

James Simmons: "On the other hand, Mike, there is a Japanese eBay trader called Mapcamera who are very KEH-like in their condition standards. I've purchased two used Fuji items from them, and the condition was better than their conservative descriptions. Highly recommended."

Hélcio J. Tagliolatto: "I guess you will receive several suggestions, but allow me to recommend these eBay sellers from Japan, who, in ten years of shopping, only sent me top-notch equipment:

Sakai Camera Trade
Musashi Focus US Store
Sanpou Camera
Tokyophoto

"I experienced pleasant trading with these sellers."

Random Excellence: Ren Long

...Except I can't show you the picture. You should be able to see it here.

A rare news photograph that manages to be both beautiful and topical. Ballet dancers in Shanghai seem to be weightless and flowing like a strong wash of wind, forming beautiful lines with their bodies and limbs, while their mouths are covered with masks as a precaution against the rapidly spreading COVID-19 coronavirus. More than 3,000 people have now died of the disease; the U.S., Australia, and Thailand recorded their first deaths from the disease over the weekend, and Armenia, Luxembourg, Ecuador and Qatar each reported their first cases. Meanwhile, health officials in the U.S. are requesting that people not buy medical facemasks, because shortages are being caused that could negatively affect medical workers who really need them.

I first saw the photo at the Wall Street Journal. The picture was taken yesterday, which (coincidentally, but fittingly!) was Leap Day. I haven't been able to discover anything about the credited photographer, Ren Long.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.

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