The Online Photographer

Aggressive Nikon

My other question this morning is that "little" problem with Nikon's new Z8. It's this: have we really gotten to the point where we have to spend four thousand dollars for a camera that's not even the top of the line?!?

Kinda like spending $100,000 on a Boxster and having people look down their noses at you because you can't afford the good Porsche.

When I was poking around learning about the Z8, I encountered in at least two separate places the word "aggressively" when talking about how Nikon is pricing the Z8. Yeah, Nikon is really biting the bullet and giving away the farm when it's willing to take a mere four grand for a body.

I always have to be on the lookout for mis-perception. I know that older people (I'm 66) tend to have an outdated concept of the value of a dollar. On one episode, Richie Cunningham's old-fart father on Happy Days was scandalized because gas was 25¢ a gallon, and the studio audience went ooooooooh. When I matriculated at Dartmouth it was the most expensive college in the country. It cost $1,300 a trimester, or $3,900 per year, for tuition, not counting room and board, books, or lab fees. Add all those things and it was a cool six grand annually. I just looked it up, and the average cost before financial aid for one year of a Dartmouth education now is $81,501. The average cost after aid, including grants and scholarships from the college, the state, and the federal government, is a piffling $33,023. I'm so old that not only does $81,501 for a year of college actually seems like kind of a lot, but $33,023 does too. I'm sure most young people are like, "what?"

So maybe it's me, is what I'm saying.

I have one more point to make about this, but I'm having trouble expressing it, which doesn't happen often. I've tried to write it about four times and I'm not happy with it. I'll let you weigh in on this first, and give that another go later.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Thom Hogan: "Long ago I learned the difference between current value, future value, and other forms of valuation.

"Unfortunately, most people don't get there, so they do things like spend today thinking tomorrow will be the same price and they can catch up on savings later. Vice versa, they believe something that they paid X for still has a value of X (or at least hasn't depreciated much).

"The truth about digital cameras is simple: 1.) current pricing has tended slightly above inflation as market size went down and camera companies simply built more expensive models to keep their revenue/profits intact. 2.) past models depreciate far faster in value than people think, to the point where there's little value in a five-year-old camera left. 3.) Inflation never left, but it's now back at higher levels, and this means that X dollars now is not X dollars tomorrow.

"If you can't get a grip with all three of those things, you will find you feel like you're falling behind, or that things have significantly changed to your detriment. Everyone wants to take their eye off the ball, but this is one of the most important balls to keep track of.

"As for 'Nikon's aggressive pricing,' I've been reporting that for some time: at basically the same level of camera, Nikon has been pricing lower than Canon and Sony, at least for full frame. I believe that's intentional and necessary.

"At the lower end of the market (APS-C/DX), Nikon is pricing higher than Canon and Sony, for the most part.

"But then you have to apply what I wrote earlier. A Z50 kit today costs basically US$1,000. Twenty years ago that would have been US$600. So that Z8 is equivalent to a US$2,400 camera in price back in 2003. Go look and see what that camera was and compare it to what you get today.  ;~)  "

Robert Roaldi: "People like to spend a lot of money; it gives them pleasure; you have to let them.  :-)

"The cost vs. benefits analysis that working pros, or at least advanced amateurs, go through is one thing. People buying themselves a once-per-decade treat approach things differently, I think. Anyway, I see people with pristine clean $60,000 behemoth personal trucks, taller than I am, in grocery store parking all the time. $4,000 is less than the annual depreciation on their vehicles. People spends tens of thousands of dollars on weddings. That party lasts a day, tops."

Mike replies: According to a recent article in The Atlantic, there are 13,000 weddings annually in America that cost $1 million or more.

Ken Bennett: "Re: Thom Hogan's reply to your post. Back in 2001 we bought a pair of Canon D30 digital cameras, for $3,000 each. They'd be closer to $6k now, and they were total dogs. The files were nice, but the autofocus was objectively lousy, and the buffer nonexistent. Three raw photos and it locked up for 20 seconds. Fine for landscapes, but not so much for journalism. But we persevered.  :-)  My new Fuji X-H2s bodies were $3,000 each with the vertical grip, and they are light years beyond those early digital models. Soooooooo much better, and for half the cost, in real dollars."

Rick Popham: "I see Thom has already mentioned this, but the Z8 pricing is aggressive versus comparable Sony and Canon models. To me, while I don't really want to spend $4k on a camera, the price seems fair. Back in 2012 I dropped $3k on the Big Dragoon—the D800, which I very happily used for years. Now I'm pretty comfortably using Micro 4/3 gear, but am also a bit nostalgic for the processing flexibility I got with that 10+ year old sensor. So I'm starting to hear the Siren call of the Z8. Somebody tie me to the mast! Must. Be. Strong."

Christopher Perez: "Until the recent pandemic, durable goods inflation was for all practical purposes non-existant. If you don't believe me, look at the information provided by the Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis. Looking into my crystal ball I'd say that durable goods inflation will return to zero in the next year or so. Non-durable goods are another matter. So what's going on with cameras and lenses? I think the situation is very similar to the motorcycle market of the 1980s. In the early '80s you could buy a brand new Japanese 450cc streetbike for around $1,000. Buy the end of the decade the price was double that. Why? Because the Japanese manufacturers knew the market was shrinking into a leisure activity niche. So to chase better gross margin and some modicum of market sustainability, prices rose, volumes dropped, and specialization became king (broadly off-road on one end and cafe-racers on the other, with a bit of touring thrown in). Sounds familiar? The Japanese camera manufacturers seem to me to be doing today what Suzuki/Yamaha/Kawasaki/Honda did with their motorcycles 40 years ago. Just a thought."

Steve Biro: "Thom Hogan’s post about the price and value of digital cameras rings true—even if I personally feel $3,000 (or close to it) is a more appropriate price for the Z8. What bothers me more is the price of vehicles these days. Cars and trucks that were $25,000 two years ago are $35,000 today. And it’s not just inflation. If that were true, prices would be up in the 15 percent range. The automakers may have been facing big supply chain issues for a while, but the pandemic also taught them how to make twice as much money selling half as many cars. And so the consumer is being soaked. I wonder how true that is in other industries?"

Malcolm Myers: "I look at the cost of new cameras and just baulk; they are very expensive to my mind. I am still happily using ten+-year-old cameras that are sufficient for me. If I lost one I'd simply buy another secondhand for a fraction of new. I'd maybe even upgrade to an eight-year-old camera! But I don't think it's just cameras. In the mid-1980s I went to see Bruce Springsteen and it cost £40 as I recall. He now sells tickets for nearer £300, which I felt was very expensive. I just checked an inflation calculator and £40 in 1985 is about £118 today, so maybe things are more expensive now."

Music Note

Are you a Led Zeppelin fan? One of the nice things about the Web is that occasionally I stumble across something that strikes me as a hidden gem. Like finding a ten-dollar bill on the ground or in the pocket of a jacket hanging in your closet, it doesn't happen very often, but it's nice when it does. This is an analysis of Robert Plant's voice as he aged, written by a person who signs theirself* "Kashmir Zoso." It's a Quora response. Originally published in 2016. Fascinating. The conclusion that the band would have fared very differently if Plant had been 24 when the band started up, instead of 20, is startling, but well supported. Also new to me is the idea that his voice hasn't just changed as he got old; it's been changing right along.

Just passing this along.

As an aside, I'll mention that I'm surprised there isn't more curation on the Web. It's very good at adjudicating questions of popularity, but not very good doing the same thing with quality. I try to pass good things along when I can.

Mike

*Themself? Theyself? I'm trying.

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Richard Tugwell: "Ahh...allow me a Led Zeppelin reminiscence. As a student at Edinburgh University in 1973, I saw them live at the Kings Theatre. This is an old classical theatre, before the time of stadium concerts. The concert started with the lights off, and then that great intro to the song "Rock and Roll" started. The lights came on as Plant launched into 'It's been a long time since I rock and rolled.' I still feel the sensation.

"During the concert, some of the antique stucco plaster ceiling fell off—something which would probably have resulted in a mass evacuation these days. But the set went on. It was however the last time the Kings Theatre hosted a rock band. Saw many great and famous bands in the early 'seventies in Edinburgh, all in small intimate venues."

Mike replies: I have a friend who saw Led Zeppelin as an opening act. Another friend has a T-shirt that says, "I might be old, but I got to see all the good bands." You might need one of those!

Andrew Lamb: "My dad was friends with John Bonham. They used to play snooker at the same club (there is movie footage of the club in The Song Remains The Same). Bonham was a major car fan and when I was 14, he took me for a 120-MPH spin in his Maserati Ghibli. I'd never been in a car so low to the ground. Given my youth, I wasn't able to ask any insightful questions about the band. I just about managed 'When's the next album coming out?' He said in a couple of weeks. That was Zeppelin IV. I have his autograph somewhere. I met him a few more times in that club. Top guy. Very friendly. Still a big fan of Robert Plant. Love his albums with Alison Krauss."

The Camera Dork

There are all types of dorks, dweebs, nerds, weenies, geeks, and et cetera. There's little point in untangling all the definitions, even if only humorously.

But what I meant by "I'd feel like a dork" yesterday was one particular situation that personally makes me feel dorky. I would define that as being "ostentatiously over-equipped."

Bunny hill
When I was a kid, my family went on a ski vacation. I think the resort was Waterville Valley in New Hampshire, but I'm not positive now. In the locker room, getting our gear on—I had only gone skiing a couple of times before—there was a family that seemed to be "in the know." The father was talking loudly about the fine points of all the expensive equipment they had. (We were renting skis and boots, and were wearing our regular winter coats, which were not ski jackets.) They had all the latest everything. The man talked at length about all the virtues of his choice of skis (either K2 or Rossignol—one of those two he liked, the other one he didn't.) I have a picture in my head of the man in his mostly white ski suit. I thought, wow, these people are real skiers. They really know what it's all about.

At the time—and I hope I'm remembering the right resort—the first step to the ski lifts to all the runs was the bunny hill lift. Everyone went up that before either getting off there or continuing to the higher parts of the mountain. Well, I happened to find myself behind that dazzlingly well-outfitted family on the first lift, and assumed they would leave me behind when I got off at the first stop. But no. They all started down again from the top of the bunny hill! None of them could ski. Even the braggart father of the group didn't know what he was doing at all.

Later in the week, I encountered my friend Jeff K. at the lift, and we rode up together. I had met Jeff on the Freshman Week Outing Club trip at Dartmouth. He told me he'd been skiing since he was little; he was a member of the ski team and had won races all over New England. I said "must be nice to be that good at something," and he told me in a jaded tone of voice that learning been the fun part for him and he kinda wished he had it all to do over again. He said he envied me for having it all in front of me. (I didn't, of course. I've skied fewer than a dozen times in my life.) Anyway, Jeff was dressed in jeans and a poncho and had beat-up old skis and old-fashioned boots. I told him about the well-equipped Dad from the locker room and Jeff shook his head and said something like, "I'd rather surprise people than pretend I'm better than I am."

Anyway, that was my lesson.

Bulging bags full
Another memory along those lines: many years ago—it must have been the early '90s—my friend Kent P. invited me to the Michigan 400. He had pit passes. I took my trusty Leica M6 and 35mm Summicron, which I carried slung from my shoulder as always. It didn't get a single look—might as well have been invisible. (That was one of the things I liked about the M6.) Wandering around in the pit lanes before the race, it appeared that about every third male was equipped with camera gear. De rigeur was a large block-shaped camera bag carefully stuffed with bodies and many lenses, plus a tripod strapped on top. That seemed to be the fad, "fad" meaning that people look around at what everyone else is doing and mimic it. I shot a lot that day and got a lot of great shots, including portraits of A.J. Foyt and Niki Lauda (although the day was mainly notable for the shot that got away. I've told that story before). No one paid me the least little bit of attention. But as far as I could tell, none of the guys carrying the big bags took many pictures. As I watched him, one guy stopped, set his bag down, fished the camera out of the bag, looked for a lens, mounted it, then set up the tripod—in the middle of a sunny day!—appeared to take one picture, then reversed the whole process and put everything away again. It took ten minutes, or seemed like it. I took a picture of him doing it.

Then again, you schlepp what you need. Remember what Ansel Adams always said when people asked him what camera he used: "the biggest one I can carry!"

There's nothing wrong with a Z9 (I mean, look at that thing), and I'd use one if I wanted to or thought I needed it. No criticism of anyone else implied here. But given who I really am, carrying one around would probably feel like a form of posing for me, and I wouldn't feel comfortable doing it.

On the other hand
Oddly, the situation can be reversed if you're a professional. You want your equipment to say "I can do anything" and "I'm well equipped." At least if you deal with the public. I can tell you from experience that it's awkward to show up at a shoot with a camera that's not as good as the one your client owns!

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Moose: "I like the circularity of this post. You start with a story about how 'pro' equipment may be in the hands of a tyro, then end with '...it's awkward to show up at a shoot with a camera that's not as good as the one your client owns!'

"I knew that guy! The one with old jeans and tired wooden skis—who flew down any mountain like an angel, occasionally spinning in a a circle, one ski up at a 45° angle, spraying snow in all directions. One day, he hit a hole or something, and broke one ski into matchsticks. Undeterred, he went into the shop and bought a pair of the best metal skis. This mediocre skier, having difficulty with the switch from not worn-out wooden to metal, suggested he start carefully. No point; he was immediately still the most beautiful, graceful skier on the hills. I asked him what he thought of the new skis. 'They're nice,' he said, laconically."

Mark Rouleau: "Your camera gearhead story reminds me of two similar events, both of which happenend in Canada.

The first is when I took the family to Dufferin Islands. This is a series of man-made islands in the Niagara River. Very pretty area. I was playing with the Sigma DP1. Really the forefather of the large-sensor, small form factor cameras that we have now.

As we were parking, I watched a man exit his car with his SO, and, in the parking lot, started posing her, firing off shot after shot with his DSLR. His background was the cement brick building that housed the washroom (you call them restrooms) to the park. I told my wife, I may not be a great photographer, but at least when I take your picture there's not a bathroom behind you.

Another time, at Niagara-on-the-Lake, I got up extra early to catch the sunrise. I got a lot of great pictures out of that one. The light was amazing, so I got not only a sunrise over Fort George, but some lovely shots at the beach of driftwood and rocks. As I was dancing around taking as many shots as I could while the light was still amazing, I noticed an older gentleman, standing stock still, with an expensive DSLR with a white Canon lens attached, so, probably some bucks. In the 30–40 minutes I was flitting from place to place, he stood in the exact same spot, never bending over or looking up, keeping the camera at eye level, occasionally rotating it from side to side, no more than 45 degrees horizontally at most, but always on the same plane, shooting across the water. I did stop to look to see what was so interesting over there, but even with my telephoto, I couldn't see anything of interest. He was still there when I left. I hope he got good pictures of whatever it was he was after."

Soeren Engelbrecht: "This summer, our family went to the Faroe Islands (Situated in the North Atlantic)—in part to experience the amazing birds (like this one, which I was fortunate to catch myself). We went on a boat trip to the island of Mykines along with other tourists, many of whom were carrying large cameras and lenses. I particularly noted one lady with a Canon DSLR and a huge zoom (200–600mm or similar) due to two things: a). The bucket-size lens hood remained reverse-mounted for the whole trip b.) She probably had the camera on 'green mode,' because every time she tried to photograph birds on a dark cliff from the boat, the built-in flash popped up and fired."

Thomas Basista: "Wow! Talking about the very thing I saw Saturday. The local watershed association dedicated a new kayak/canoe access to the river. Basically a low-key, local event. No more than 30 people there. I was using my Panasonic FZ80 This guy shows up wearing a leather shoulder harness in 90-degree weather. There was a Nikon hanging from the harness on each hip, like a pair of pistols on a movie gunfighter. While most people were taking snaps with their phones, the camera slinger seemed to just be walking around. I did not see him take a single shot. I guess he just wanted to play photographer."

Mike Peters: "Re 'Oddly, the situation can be reversed if you're a professional. You want your equipment to say "I can do anything" and "I'm well equipped." At least if you deal with the public. I can tell you from experience that it's awkward to show up at a shoot with a camera that's not as good as the one your client owns!' The reality is, most of my clients own phones to take photographs. I've been shooting pro work with lowly Micro 4/3 gear for over 10 years now and nobody seems to notice or care. If your photographs don't make the case for you, then maybe you're in the wrong profession. My motto is use the gear that sets you free and is a joy to use. It's not the camera that makes the photo, it's the meat sack behind it."

adam: "I do user research consulting in very technical fields, and a big part of my job is to boil the findings from all the interviews I do down into some key points the client can act on. A few years ago I came across a piece of wisdom I try to keep in mind: 'The beginner makes things complex in order to demonstrate their expertise. The expert makes things simple in order to demonstrate their expertise.'"

The Mighty Nikon Z8

The Nikon Z8

It seems to me that over the years, there has been a camera that we might call the "top amateur camera." I believe with a few companies that it might even have been an official term. At least internally, sometimes externally. It's sort of the sweet spot for people who are into photography but don't make their livings with their cameras.

I am brand agnostic, but I grew up in the era when Nikon went unchallenged as the top professional 35mm brand (not the case in this century), and over the years I have only shot Canon for one stretch, although I loved the Canon I had. So I tend to know more about Nikon than I know about most other brands. Just not as a "fanboy." And it seems to me that Nikon has generally had that "top amateur model." The Nikkormats in the days of the early F's. The N8008 in the time of the first autofocus F model, the F4 (I had both and usually shot with the N8008). The F100 at the end of the film era. The 6-MP D100 in the early days of DSLRs. The D700 hit the sweet spot perfectly. Then the D800 and D850 starting a decade or so ago. Maybe it's from Nikon that I got the idea! True (deep, dyed-in-the-wool, dedicated) Nikonophiles can correct me if you think I'm off base. For instance, it's not always true that there is a split between the top pro and top amateur models: the F3 was deeply loved by both constituencies—and well suited to both.

Working for the people I've always worked for turns the usual hierarchy on its head. All my life I've worked for students, advanced amateurs, "shutterbugs," enthusiasts, techie mavens, and art photographers (I qualify that last as being a label, not a claim). The top amateur models always rank higher than the top pro models. They're more desirable. Example: would you rather have an OM System OM-1 or an Olympus E-M1X? Not one in 20 amateurs would spring for the latter, if my guess is correct. Even though the latter is cheaper right now, because of the vagaries of fortune. Then again, the legacy Olympus E-M1 Mark III, new, is cheaper still. That's the one I'd pick, at this particular historical moment. (But I digress.)

Sure, you can shoot a pro model if you want to. But why would you? Pro models always had drawbacks for amateurs. Usually (but not always) higher cost, complexity, and size and weight. You paid for durability and dependability that amateurs simply didn't need. Burned in my memory is the sight of two F4's from the Gulf War, painted sand color, sitting on the repair bench at Pro Photo in the heart of Washington DC. Those two cameras looked like they were at least 10 years old. They were in getting refurbished for another "tour of duty." Actual age of the two cameras since new? Six months. Amateurs, who generally tend to pamper their gear, don't put their cameras through hell. So why pay for it?

Anyway, Nikon has done it again. They've introduced the "top amateur" camera in the Z lineup: the Z8, which has most of the trickle-down features of the Z9. (You couldn't make me carry a Z9. I'd feel like a dork, for one thing.)

There's one "little" problem with the Z8, which we'll get to tomorrow.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Jon Porter: "I've never liked the practice of reviewers assigning cameras to users as professional, amateur, entry-level, etc. There are only three categories of gear—high-end, mid-range, and low-end—which are used interchangeably by all levels of photographers.

"Plus another issue is defining what a professional photographer is these days. Ask a dozen of your readers and you'll get a dozen different definitions. I define a pro as someone whose primary income is from taking photographs, not the guy who shoots an occasional wedding or works in the camera department clerk at Best Buy. Others would argue that anyone making money through the broad category of photography is a professional."

Bambang: "Z8 is today’s version of F100."

F. Hall: "I might have gone to Nikon when mirrorless was taking off but the one thing that held me back was lack of 4:3 aspect ratio which I had mostly settled on by then. I wonder why we can't set it to whatever we like when it comes down to it.

"When a camera strongly bills itself as a hybrid camera I seem to lose all interest but that is just my mind messing with me. Using anything but a smartphone to photograph (or not having a smartphone on you) puts you squarely in the dork category. I am well past the age to care about that, and I have doubts that you really care about it either. This assumes dork means an unstylish, not with-it person."

Terry Letton: "Ya you can look like a dork if you act like you don’t belong there, but the reverse is also true. If you have good equipment and act confident and shoot appropriately it can be to your benefit.

"Of several possible illustrations I’ll just use one. I enjoy shooting motor sports but seldom actually get to do it. I was at the New Hampshire NASCAR race and decided I wanted to shoot Qualifying. I had my 5D Mark II and a borrowed big white 100–400mm lens. I stood close to the chain link fence so it would be out of focus and began to methodically shooting each car in turn as it pulled to the front of the line and took its run. Partway through I snuck a peek at the security guard who I had been expecting to shoo me away. He was instead keeping others from bothering me. I made sure to thank him on the way out."

Stephen S.: "I worked at a camera store through the early 2000s that had a clientele of predominantly amateurs and advanced amateurs, and only a few professionals. We regularly sold entry-level film SLR cameras from several brands; Canon, Nikon, Pentax, and Minolta to the amateurs. To advanced amateurs? It was tons of Nikon F80 (N80) and a lesser quantity of F100 bodies, but virtually nothing from any other brand. One single Minolta Maxxum 7, one single Pentax MZ-S, one single Canon EOS-3 and a few Canon Elan 7 bodies. Nikon truly had the advanced amateur market all to themselves, at least where we were located."

Personality Not Perfection

K4kafka asked, in the Comments: "Over the years you’ve tested many cameras, lenses, and shooting genres. Do you now consider yourself a 'landscape photographer'?"

My answer is "it's what's available." I love photographing kids, but there are no kids in my everyday life, and although I got along well with kids in my younger days, I can't claim I do now. My "best thing" is portraits (if you ask me, anyway), but people take their own portraits with their phones now—I literally can't give portraits away for free, sometimes. I've asked three or four people recently if they would pose for a portrait, and they say yes and take my card but then don't get back to me. ("You know what they say: Oh well.")

I did do a portrait this past week, and it was fun to do. I photographed Kerry G., a friend I met on a dating site and went out with a number of times a number of years ago. She needs the picture for a website associated with a new job.

Kerry Graff. This is the one I liked, not the one Kerry liked.
Fuji X-T1, 56mm ƒ/1.2.

When I do a portrait, it's "personality not perfection." I like natural-looking pictures. I don't use a makeup person or a stylist, not that there's anything wrong with that. I don't make all sorts of changes in Photoshop—enhancing skin, enlarging eyes, etc. I work in natural light, and we try different spots, different light, sometimes different clothes (not this time), and I have people re-do their hair several times during the shoot. I want to give people a variety of looks in the proofs. It usually takes about an hour, and sometimes as long as two or three. I especially don't like it when they dislike something about the setup and it's in every shot.

That's the Allison R. rule. Allison was a willowy beauty with a great mass of big blonde hair, and she claimed that she liked her hair to be tousled and unkempt, so she didn't want to brush it, and she didn't use a brush through the whole session. We spent hours shooting nine rolls of 35mm film, an all-time record for me for a portrait...and, you guessed it, she didn't like her hair in any of them, thanks to one unruly strand that stuck out in all 300+ shots. That was before Photoshop, when you were pretty much stuck with what you got on film. Ever since then, I've asked women—men too, actually—to check their hair several times during a session. It doesn't have to be perfect, just different. Just in case.

I was going to give Kerry four proofs, but mostly we shot without her glasses on, and she ordinarily wears glasses. So at the last minute I included what I thought was the best glasses-on exposure. I had already picked my favorite frame by that time (the one above), and it was a glasses-off shot. Well, you guessed it again—she thought the shot with her glasses on was far and away the best one of the five. Good thing I included it!

I don't mind that, of course. She needs a particular look 'n' feel—it's a professional portrait, and she has a good idea of what she needs the picture to convey. She's also familiar with others doctors' portraits. So it's her choice.

Well, except here on TOP! Here, I get my way.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Jack Mac: "You definitely are a portrait guy. I still use one of your shots of me taken when we were shooting in an abandoned building in Milwaukee. It’s even better with age, since it makes me look ten years younger. Nowadays I prefer to not show people their photos for ten years, so that they can exclaim, 'You captured me perfectly!'"

Mike replies: One of the things Kerry and I discussed when we were talking about the edits of her chosen shot is that she knows she wants to use it for the next ten years.  :-)

Political Picture

Wheat field, corner of Welker and Old
Bath Road, Barrington, New York

Signs of summer
I am of course way behind in getting new pictures up on Flickr (because I'm late with everything always), but I thought I'd mention a few things about this one.

It's the middle of summer now (but not Midsummer, which is a specific day). To me, the middle of summer is reached when the first bloom appears on my big Rose of Sharon bush outside the kitchen window. That was yesterday. Today there are ten blooms, and soon it will be covered. Also yesterday, by coincidence, the last batch of robin fledglings from the nest outside my back door made the leap of their lives and left the nest. I didn't see it happen, but everyone's gone now. The fledglings are at the greatest risk over the next two weeks. I sure hope they make it!

The two robin babies who left the nest yesterday,
and the Mama robin who has done her bit
for Robinkind this year. iPhone 13
at maximum digital zoom.

I did what I could to help. I didn't mow under the nest after the eggs hatched, and all summer I've left a tray of premium dried mealworms out on the top of the propane tanks, so the birds can get to them but the dogs can't. American robins don't eat birdseed, and dried mealworms are rich in nutrients for the parents, the eggs, and the babies. There hasn't been any shortage of earthworms this year, either, because of all the rain. That and berries are their other favorite foods.

Three batches of eggs were raised in my back porch nest this year, two fledglings in each batch. I haven't been able to figure out if it's the same nesting pair. I got to see the second set leave the nest. It was quite dramatic. I think it was the same Mama all summer because of her behavior—she was easily alarmed and readily spooked at the beginning of the first nesting, but eventually she learned that I was not a danger and she'd just sit there letting me talk at her, and only fly off when I circled around the nest to replenish the mealworms. Then, with each successive nesting, the Mama acted exactly the same way. So I think it was the same mother for all three nestings.

Wheat
Two things about the wheat field picture. First, I was surprised at how difficult it is to get a halfway decent picture of a wheat field. The best one I know of is by a guy named Lawrence McFarland. This one is merely decent, not rising anywhere near the quality of his, but I took a lot of pictures of wheat fields before I got one even this good. The other subject I'm on the trail of is a field with cows in it. Sounds simple, but I haven't made a good one yet, unless you count my shot of the cows gathered under the little stand of trees to escape the early September heat.

The second thing is that this picture has some political content. Well, a little. My area is a wheat-producing region, so wheat fields aren't unusual, and I've only been here for eight years, which is not enough to make me an expert. However, simply by looking and paying attention, I'm pretty certain I can say that there's a lot more wheat being grown locally this year than in the other years I've been around.

The reason isn't far to seek. Russia and Ukraine combined are responsible for a whopping 28% of global wheat exports in normal times. Wheat prices are up an average of 50% nationally because of the sorry situation in Ukraine. A local farmer told me that "fifty percent is huge."  So this field, where I've never seen wheat before, is a wheat field because of Vladimir Putin's crazy imperialistic obsessions and Russia's unilateral aggressions.

I took this only 18 days ago, but the wheat in the picture has now been threshed, the wheat straw baled and carried away, and the secondary crop is coming up in the understory. Wheat fields all over the area have been harvested already. Good thing I took this picture when I did, because I'm not going to get a chance again until next year—and I hope not even then.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Bill Tyler: "Cows in the field. Try doing a Google search for 'Cole Weston Palo Corona Ranch.' I used to drive by that spot frequently, but never saw the light and cattle arranged as he found them. It's taken from California Highway 1, just south of Rio Road in Carmel on the way to Big Sur."

GKFroehlich: "That photo shows so much grain! But I do like the crop."

On Naming

Naming stuff is hard. I have a friend who'd like suggestions for a name for a vending machine company. I thought of "Venum," Latin for "sale," but it's already taken. It's a French company that makes martial arts equipment. Technically my friend could use it, because you can use the same name as long as the companies do something completely different, but it would just cause confusion. No one would be happy.

My uncle Smokie (Dr. Albert Ferdinand Polk, Jr.) bred thoroughbred racehorses, and he once asked me for suggestions for horse names. I gave him a list of ten possibilities. Of those, eight had already been used! Racehorse names can't be re-used, which is why they can sometimes be so strange, like the horse "Two Phil's" [sic] in this year's Derby. One of my suggestions was the name of an historically famous horse. Oops. That shows you one weakness when you're trying to think of names: it's better if you have some familiarity with the field of endeavor you're working in. That's a problem in genre fiction as well: you need to be familiar with what's already been done so you don't re-invent the wheel. Or a bunch of wheels. Or accidentally crib stuff.

Speaking of which, I watched the WWII propaganda movie Mrs. Miniver over the weekend. A weak movie—programmatic—and one that has aged poorly. I didn't really enjoy it. But I did learn that Julian Fellowes and his writers stole a major plot point from that movie for his series Downton Abbey! Just lifted and repurposed it. Stop, thieves. I guess they thought it had been so long since 1943 that they could steal the idea and contemporary audiences would be none the wiser.

Then again, Shakespeare pulled that sh*t too, didn't he?

Three wins
One of the the two valid horse names I came up with, "Montana Blackfoot," was given to an actual racehorse. Foaled in 1976, he raced in 1978 and '79. He won three times and placed second four times and third twice in 26 starts. He earned $21,111, about $90k in today's money. Not the big time, but not too shabby. Anyway, I thought it was cool. How many average Joes—er, average Mikes—have gotten to name a racehorse? Yet another split-second in my 15 minutes of fame.

If you can think of a cool name for a vending machine company, let me know.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Martin Q.: "You ain't kidding. There's an old saying in software developer circles, which Tim Bray attributes to Phil Karlton: There are only two hard things in Computer Science: cache invalidation and naming things."

Dan Mongomery: "The editor of the Virginia newspaper where I worked asked newsroom folks for ideas for the name of his big new boat. As everyone knows, underpaid minions love to help their bosses with all the little problems that arise from having excessive disposable income, but putting that aside, I suggested 'Fnu Lnu.' This is police-report shorthand for 'first name unknown, last name unknown.' A fill-in weekend police reporter had recently taken it for a person's name, and 'Fnu Lnu' made it into print as such. Our subsequent correction didn't go viral, exactly, but it traveled far and wide. The reporter and editors involved were not the first or last to make this mistake, but our paper was briefly famous, and lessons were learned.

"The boss put 'Fnu Lnu' on his stern, and he loved, loved, loved explaining it to strangers who asked about it."

Kent Phelan: "When I had my business back in the '90s, I bought a couple of vending machines for the company break room. I started a separate company for this purpose, and named it 'Soda Jerks LLC.' I gave the profits to the two women in the accounting dept. who managed the machines."

s.wolters: "As a designer of corporate identities, coming up with a new name for a company or organization was often part of my job. There are methods for that and it was never difficult to develop long lists of proposals. Getting the right one accepted, often by many people involved, is something else. Before presenting your ideas there should be a general agreement on the criteria so the names can be judged objectively. Names should be unique. If possible they should already explain what the activities of the organization are. Standard Oil, TotalEnergies, Tomato Bank Ltd., et cetera. Being a visualizer, I often suggested names where name and trademark express the same thing. As is in case of Shell, Penguin, or Domino’s Pizza. At its best there should be some verbal or visual association with the activity too. So if someone came up with a name like Twitter for a social chatting network I would think that this was brilliant. On the other hand if someone suggested for that purpose the letter X, that is already used by almost half of the world population, I would think this person had a bug in his brain."

Mike replies: I thought exactly the same thing. To take "Facebook," one of the most recognizable names on the planet, and ditch it for "Meta" is like dumping "Coca-Cola" in favor of something like "BrownDrink," or even trading "Kleenex" for "Paper." It strikes me that "Twitter" is the perfect name—it aligns with the term "tweet" (as a verb with associated tenses as well as a noun for the actual communiques), and features a bird as a logo, which associates very sensibly. How are you going to replicate all that with "X," never mind the incalculable loss in name recognition alone? It seems to me that Mr. Musk might have some sort of psychological problem—lately he acts like he's doing all he can to lose more money than any human ever has before. Just a thought; IANAS. [I am not a shrink.]

richardp_london: "My father-in-law had a connection with the UK Channel Islands, one of which is called Sark. He had a whim to get his boat registered there. By convention the place of registration appears below the boat name, on its rear transom. Name of his boat? 'Noah.'"

Print Size Poll Results

Here are the results of the print size poll from the other day:

(As you can see, respondents were allowed to create their own answers in the poll widget. After that ellipsis [the "dot-dot-dot"] it says "...about 7x10.5"," which is about the same as "8x10 or a little larger," and A4 is about the same if you grant some space for a border.)

Somewhat inconclusive, as the two top responses nearly split. The smaller (5x7) and larger (16x20) partisans also offset each other more or less.

I'm working with a custom printer in Colorado (I'll profile him eventually), who has already proof-printed the image, and he feels that a size of 11x14 works better than "8x10 or a little larger" because the detail in the file needs a little room to breathe. He was surprised by how much more detail there is in the file than in the Flickr presentation. (We're using a different frame, too, but the two are very close.)

Having seen the initial print attempt, he'd prefer to float an 11x14" image on a 17x22" sheet, but that much border makes it more difficult to ship.

He's going to be making guide prints on four different kinds of paper, which will be really interesting for me. "Each paper has its own personality," as he put it. And each paper interacts with specific images differently. Or can, anyway. I'll share my reactions with you. And I'll keep you apprised of our progress toward the "first print."

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

A Few Remarks on Editing

I've written about this before, certainly.

But it crops up again and again. The way I generally shoot is to find something and then work it—walking around, trying different compositions, waiting for elements to change or for something to happen. I'm just looking for the one good shot. I don't care about all the rest; they're just process. When I ingest to the computer I'll have anywhere from three to 40 exposures of each "motif," all basically in search of that one good shot. Most of the time—not all of the time—the last shot, or one near the end, will be the best one. That's because as I shoot I understand the picture better. A lot of my near misses make me think to myself, "should have worked that one harder."

I think it's very lazy when people show multiple tries at one photograph. It's the photographer's duty to pick one. It's your picture; you decide which exposure is best. Don't expect the viewer to do it.

But that doesn't mean it's always easy. I occasionally have two pictures that work for me and have trouble deciding between them. Take this for example:

Version 1

Version 2

Version 1 was one of the first ones I shot at that spot. It's handsome, but it's also old-fashioned; it could be a Farm Security Administration photograph. The second one is a little quirkier, more off-balance, which I like. Then again, I have a tendency to resist my classicist impulses, which I believe are too strong. So I go back and forth. I don't really know which one is better.

Sometimes, of course, not being able to decide means that both of them aren't quite keepers. It's very tempting to think you got something just because you got it. You have to be awake to the fact that sometimes you just didn't bag the game.

The solution
The solution for me is usually time. If I continue looking at variants of a picture for a few days, what usually happens is that my mind sorts it out. I'll start liking one better and the other one less.

It hasn't happened yet with these two. I hope it will. I'm not putting both of them on Flickr; it's my responsibility to decide.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Rod S.: "My choice is clear; it's number one. It's the stronger photograph, by far. It accentuates the power pole and makes me look up at the top of the frame, thereby strengthening the sense of tallness that, surely, was at least a large part of the visual pull for the photograph. The second shot just doesn't do any of that. It isn't strong enough to be interesting. Shooting 4x5, I had to learn to do that process you describe 'by eye' before making an exposure."

Ben: "I like #2 better. My feeling is that #1 is about the telephone pole, while #2 is a balance between road and sky. For me the pole in #1 interrupts the dynamism of the clouds. Plus the shadow of the pole in #2 is very nice."

robert e: "I see your dilemma. In an abstract sense, version 1 is the better composition, but it doesn't really say anything. The second version, on the other hand, tells a story—of wilderness (the tree and sky), settlement (the house), cultivation (the crops) and development (the road), and it's an ongoing story relevant to the setting. The composition may be unorthodox—and less strong per se—but it serves the narrative, making it the stronger picture overall. Normally, I'm biased toward formalism and aesthetics, but in this case it seems I prefer the storytelling.

"I think that's the biggest challenge in photography—whatever our intention, every photo has both form and content, and their interaction (or lack thereof) can make or break the picture."

Trygve Strömberg: "I prefer the first one. It is tranquil and relaxing. Just sit down, chew on a straw and watch the clouds sail by. The second one is more dynamic and restless, the leading lines forcing me forward to the house in the distance."

xf mj: "Your two frames here remind me of several side-of-road moments, where the light is amazing, but I can’t quite access the scene to get The One. I might really want a ladder and am feeling a real urge to tresspass, and so I just snap a few, shrug, and drive on. I’m also very much reminded of once wearing a cast and having a strong itch under it that I couldn’t quite scratch. Thanks, Mike!"

Our Print Sales Need to Evolve Too

I spoke yesterday of how my writing and comment-moderation workflow here on TOP might need to change. Well, our print sales might need to evolve as well.

I've heard anecdotally from a variety of sources that print sales are slowing across the board, as the tradition of fine printmaking continues to evaporate from the culture of photography. Our print sales have certainly declined. I'm not sure I can ascribe that to anything in the broader culture, however. TOP's audience has constricted to about one-third the size of the audience at peak (2013), although the readers that remain seem much more engaged, devoted, and active—also, they're more dedicated or devoted to photography or however you want to phrase it, more experienced and knowledgeable. TOP doesn't attract hordes of casual visitors looking for shopping advice any more, that's for sure.

Anyway, it might be time for a transition here too. Our old model (taking orders in advance for a limited time and fulfilling them after they were already sold) worked quite wonderfully. But it's a high-volume model. Our best print sale sold ~735 prints, and our most lucrative made $128,000 in profit. Another artist first agreed to make 50 prints, but that 50 sold so rapidly that he agreed to make 100 more. Those vanished as well. Yet another print-sale artist told us that the check we sent her was the largest amount of money she'd earned at one time in her life.

But those days are long gone. Now we struggle to sell 100, and often don't reach 50. And the profits are more modest.

Great good fortune
It's still nothing to sneeze at; not at all. When's the last time you sold 35 prints of a single picture? It's very unusual. The number of photographers who sell 35 prints of one picture in a gallery show are a tiny minority. Most people who have gallery shows would be over the moon to sell 35 total. So I'm grateful we can do that. Looked at objectively, it's still very fortunate that we do so well. Quite wonderful.

It might be time to change the sales model, is all. For one thing, the printer still needs to be paid. The first print is where a lot of the labor is. If we sell 125 prints, the first print is a small proportion of the whole. If the printer is providing 15 prints, it's a larger part of the work. It becomes harder for us to cover that cost. One printer won't work with us unless we can guarantee 100 sales.

So what I'm thinking of is switching to some kind of small-volume model. As you can see from the last post but one, 148 readers put themselves into the category of people who would consider buying a print of "Mennonite Boys Watching Dirt-Track Racing." But how many people actually will buy one? Fifteen per cent? Ten? So call it 15 to 22 sales. And that sounds about right.

So maybe I should have the printer make 15 copies (or 15 and three artist's proofs), and I'll pay him out of my pocket, and then we'll offer the 15 until they sell out. The price would have to be higher doing it that way, but still nothing too onerous. (And sometimes people want to pay more, but that's another post.)

I'd like to try that with reader prints, too. Your prints, I mean. I have in mind three prints by readers. I could ask each person to provide, say, ten copies of his or her print, and then offer them without a deadline. They'd just sell until they sold out. Wouldn't it be nice to make a sale out of the Baker's Dozens, for instance?

I'll have to think about that. Anyway, that's all that this post is trying to say: that I'm thinking about this. The volume model is on the cusp of not making enough volume, so maybe it's just time to change.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

The First Thing I'd Do With Money

You might be aware that another billion-dollar lottery just passed us by. I didn't buy a ticket. Not a fan of lotteries; they distort peoples' thinking. Financial illiteracy is rampant. I'm not sparing myself from that judgment.

It's silly to get excited. Your odds of winning are always the same regardless of the prize, and nobody needs half a billion dollars. Six or seven million dollars, invested, would yield about $20,000 a month for the rest of your life, for doing nothing; isn't that plenty for all but the greediest fantasies?

Green beans, organically grown, picked this
morning, $2, destined for dinner

Know what my daydream is? The first thing I'd do would be if I won the lottery? Two things, actually. One, I'd hire a whole-food plant-based cook, and pay her or him lavishly. Second, I'd build and staff a giant year-round greenhouse so I could have produce like we enjoy here in July and August, only all year round.

Seriously, that's my best daydream. I return to it often in my Brussels-sprout-sized brain. Oh well; at least I get it two months out of the year, just for living here.

That about covers it
By the way, I know you've seen pictures of green beans here before. I admit I'm obsessed. My favorite veggie. They just appeared at all the farm stands about a week ago. That's the starting gun, and now I get to see how many I can eat before season's end. I am awaiting with bated breath Raymond's cantaloupe melons and Eugene's broccoli. I hope to get up my nerve to ask Eugene if I can cut my own broccoli this year. I know he's not going to understand, but maybe he'll let me anyway.

Speaking of living here, someone the other day referred to TOP World HQ as being in "Possum Holler" if I'm recollecting that a'right. Here, for edification, is a picture of the magazine rack at the local Tractor Supply Co. The sign up above, not visible in the picture, proudly heralds "MAGAZINES FOR LIFE OUT HERE." The titles include Fly Fishing Made Easy, Backwoods Survival Guide, Camping, Wildfowl, Guns of the Old West, Truck Round-Up, Gun Dog, Lakes and Beaches, Living Off the Land, Chickens and its striver competitor Backyard Chickens, Farm Starter and Farm Show, The Home Shop Machinist, Game & Fish, Bowhunter, Antique Power (a magazine about old tractors, and that's big hereabouts—I know several people who have more than ten tractors and one who has "around fifty"), and of course Cattle (because everybody needs Cattle magazine). I would say that covers about everything, except they are a bit short on titles about trucks. Just one seems slender pickings.

Oh, except, not a single thing about Harleys. WTF? Maybe whoever owns Tractor Supply is an Indian man. (Although Harley and Indian need to look out—eBikes are to them like smartphones are to big Canons, and mark my words.)

Enough
Getting back to that lottery, a friend told me something nice the other day. To quiet down her mind and tamp down her anxieties, she often says to herself, "I am enough, I have enough, and I do enough." I'm going to try that on myself, when I find my mind wandering off toward thoughts of wanting to be, have, or do more.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

MARILYN NANCE: "There's a very good book—Old Tractors and the Men Who Love Them, by Roger Welsch. About collecting tractors. I really wanted one after I read it, although I live right in Chicago. Recommended."

Patrick Perez: "Years ago, when I lived in Los Angeles and worked for a giant asset management company, I had a practice of buying a lottery ticket when the jackpot reached some arbitrary large amount (this is before multi-state lotteries were in California). One day, the lottery jackpot hit my threshold, and, leaving work, I stopped in the mini-mart in the building lobby, waiting to get my ticket. Behind me in line was the company's chief economist (also a professor of economics at a large university). I explained to him why I think buying a ticket actually makes financial sense. If the expected jackpot, multiplied by the odds of winning, are greater than the marginal utility of a single dollar in one's wallet, then it makes sense. Steve replied words to the effect of 'yes! That's exactly what I always tell people!' (he spoke in exclamation points). Anyway, I got to the register and bought my one ticket. Steve got to the register and bought 20. His marginal utility of $20 is the same-ish as $1 to me."

Mike replies: Another commenter claimed an unidentified mathematician said your chances of winning are effectively the same whether you buy a ticket or not. According to game theory (said an article I once read), it makes sense to buy one ticket, because your odds go from zero possibility of winning to a very slight chance of winning—nothing to something—but then, all further tickets improve your chances so slightly that they are not worth spending even one cent on them.

Kye Wood: "I take a lot of 3D photos. Like. A lot. So I know what I'm on about here. Which is? That green bean photo in this post—wow! It's incredibly 3D for a 2D photo. Well done you. P.S. What gear was used to make the photo?"

Mike replies: iPhone 13, with some color and contrast enhancement in Photoshop.

Comments I Missed

I've been off my game lately. Here, remedially, are some comments to recent posts that I meant to publish but didn't.

About the Vocal Range video, from Doug Anderson: "There is an important vocal range missing from the video. Just as baritones (like me) are those men who can not reach either the lowest notes of the bass range or the highest notes of the tenor range, mezzo sopranos are those women who can not reach either the lowest notes of the alto range or the highest notes of the soprano range. Baritones and mezzo sopranos are the most common vocal ranges of men and women, respectively."

Comment: Thanks for this clarification. I assume the guy making the video is a member of an a cappella group and was either concentrating on the normal makeup of a cappella groups generally or maybe just his own. But I don't know.

About watching the Wimbledon Final, from James Weekes: "1. I am really sorry that you missed it. A match for the ages. Well worth finding online and watching [assuming I can find the time —MJ]. 2. Have you explored ways to stream events like this? I'm pretty sure that it would have been possible, even up there in Possum Holler by the Lake. 3. The indoor version of tennis, better known as court tennis, is still being played in the U.S. and in England and, possibly, France. A good friend of mine, Haven Pell, is heavily involved and still plays at age 77. It is not played because of the cost of building a court. I grew up on Long Island and my father played in one of the remaining courts, Greentree. It is now idle. I also recommend you look up Haven's book on court tennis, Around the World in 50 Courts [link added by MJ]. Good fun. The game was invented by monks who strung a net across the interior court of their monastery. So there are windows and pitched roofs. I tried to play, having been a decent lawn tennis player, but I am left-handed and couldn't hit a decent serve."

Comment: Seems a bit like three-cushion billiards, which was one of the most popular sports in America in the 1920s and is now vestigial. It's fascinating to watch, though. At least to me.

About not watching television, by ritchie thomson: "Yes, some years ago I largely stopped watching film and TV. I maybe see two or three films/movies a year and then usually old ones. This was for two reasons. The primary being the formulaic and clichéd story lines and scripts (I wouldn't be surprised if we discover that AI has been churning out Hollywood scripts for several decades already). The secondary one was the routine depiction of explicit and sickening violence. I understand that video games take this even further. I know that many psychologist will say that this exposure doesn't lead to acts of violence (at least for most people), and that may be true, but surely at best it desensitises (people are no longer shocked by images which they should be shocked by), and at worst in infects their psyche. Images cant be unseen and come out in dreams and nightmares, thoughts, and feelings. We need international regulation of the internet, games,films and TV."

Comment: This reminds me of my decision when my son was very young to not allow him to watch TV. We watched an episode of Wheel of Fortune, a game show, and, during the half hour, saw seven guns, and saw or heard about four murders and one rape: the murders were in advertisements for TV shows that would be on later, and the rape, which was the worst of all, was an advertisement for the local news program! It actually featured a 911 call by the victim screaming and begging for help. Of the five portrayals of violence during that innocuous game show, it was the worst, disturbing even to me. Awful. So that was it. Until he was five or six, Xander watched only videos of movies for kids on the VCR. And I'm not saying children as young as five or six should watch violence, but there comes a time when you can't protect them from it.

Very curious thing about the Mennonites and Amish around here: they've never been subjected to fictional depictions of violence.

About cameras we missed, by nextSibling: "I prevaricated over getting a [Ricoh] GRIII for quite a while. Wasn't sure if I could justify the cost for a viewfinderless APS-C camera. Having had one about a year I wouldn't be without it and it's by far my most used camera because it's so easy to set up just how I like and to carry and use, and produces images of such lovely quality that such a small camera has no business making but somehow does. So now I'm just another fanboi. Recommend you try it if you get a chance sometime."

Comment: I've heard comments like this for years! Certain cameras are more beloved by users than you would guess, and certain others are less well liked than one would guess. The GR series is in the former category.

About me taking time out to work on my book, by Keith Cartmell: "Writing can be a very circular or recursive process. In order to write it, you have to know the story, and in order to know the story you have to write it. Many writers like doing the first draft. They flail away, putting in everything that comes to mind. They don't care about spelling or grammar or plot holes or anything. They barf it all out onto the page. Then they revise, (and revise and revise and revise) which typically means fixing things and boiling the words away, till you have the exact number of words to tell the story, and not one more or less. It is entirely possible to write it out so you know how it ends and who does what to who, and how, and this version is essentially an unreadable mess. Which is fine. Then you take the same material, and write the actual story."

Comment: I seem to do exactly that with every chapter! Write it once, then throw all that out and write it again like I know what I'm doing.

About the 'Mennonite Boys' photo by David Drake: "Mike, I really like his image! Such a great mood you have captured. The image reminds me of ET or Close Encounters. The two kids on bikes (of course from ET) looking up at those glowing orbs of light. I love mysterious images like this!" 

Comment: That's very nice, and thanks to you and to others such as Lisa O. for the kind compliments.

About the "enshittification" of the Web, by Geoff Wittig: "It's very much worth digging further into your quote above from The Verge. That link in turn links to a brilliant analytic article by Cory Doctorow detailing the 'Enshittification' of TikTok. Doctorow uses 'enshittification' as a technical term. In my humble opinion, he nails what's wrong with web platforms from Google to Amazon to Twitter, and the problem is most definitely not the rise of AI.

"Rather, it's the depressing inability of the owners of these platforms to resist the gravitational pull of terminal greed. He plots their identical trajectory from creating a useful function, attracting a critical mass of users to that function, and linking their users to eager marketers and advertisers. This is followed by a pivot away from providing a function toward feeding their users to their marketers, intentionally corrupting their searches to prioritize the desires of their advertisers, and strip-mining users by selling their data. Doctorow notes that the owners carefully judge how aggressively they can abuse their own users without quite inflicting enough pain to drive them to flee the platform. All so depressingly accurate."

Comment: Very astute like most all of your comments, Geoff, and spot on...unfortunately.

Thanks to all these commenters!

How such great comments get lost is that when I moderate comments late at night when I'm tired, I reserve certain ones to "Feature," but I don't edit them and load them into the post right then because I'm too tired—and then I don't get back to it the next morning as I mean to do. In other words, SNAFU.

I'm not trying to make excuses, but it's not entirely my fault. People complain that comments don't appear quickly enough, but that's partly (only partly) because comments don't come in as quickly as they used to. It used to be that every post on TOP would get a lot of comments right away, so I developed a workflow of putting up a new post in the morning and then, directly afterwards, doing the Featured Comments for the previous day's post. If a great comment came in later, I might add it to the Featured Comments if it was really good—or I might not. Many readers aren't looking for updated comments for older posts, so, when posting Featured Comments late, there's less benefit for readers in general.

Now, however, more and more readers are checking in with TOP at longer intervals, meaning that comments come in more slowly, and great comments can arrive three, four, or even more days after the post is published. Some of these are so good that I reserve them for use as "Featured Comments," but if I don't publish them right away (because it's late and I'm tired) they're outside of my usual workflow and it's easy for them to get overlooked.

I just haven't quite worked out how to handle this yet, is all. I will point out that a daily blog with moderated and Featured comments like this one is a lot to handle, and also that I'm still using a workflow that I developed when a.) I had more energy, and b.) I worked more hours. I'll keep working on this, and thinking about solutions.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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Richard Parkin: "Maybe comments are dwindling because they don’t get posted quickly or not at all. It’s a negative feedback loop I think. That will never improve, as you acknowledge in this post I think, unless you change the method of posting or editing comments."

Picture Analysis: Minuses and Plusses

I thought we might take a closer look at the picture of Don Budge I posted the other day. I think it's interesting.

The begin with, I never saw it before I posted it, so it's not something that was previously familiar to me. Wikipedia captions it "Don Budge at White City Stadium, Sydney in December 1937," and Wikimedia Commons calls it "American tennis player Don Budge at the White City Tennis Club in Sydney, Australia." Both say the photographer is unknown and that it's in the public domain. A reverse image search doesn't shed any light, other than to indicate that it only appears on the Web in a few places. The source is a 35mm copy negative from a nitrate original (films in that era were flammable, so original negatives were often copied later on "safety film") in the Hood Collection at the State Library of New South Wales, Australia, which gives the title as simply "Tennis, White City," and the date as Dec. 16th, 1937.

The unknown photographer had quite a lot of problems, some of them fundamental. If you were to name the four most basic things to get right in a photograph, three of them would probably be focus, exposure, and framing. Right away, it's obvious that the central subject is not in focus. Hard to tell where the plane of best focus might be, but it's closer to the crowd on the right than to the tennis player. Then, it's not quite properly exposed: although there's still adequate highlight detail, the picture's a little overexposed and the highest values are blocked. This might have been exacerbated slightly by making the copy, as optical copies tended to add a little contrast as well as lose a little detail and gain a little grain; but the original was overexposed, I can tell you. Third, the photographer appears to have been caught off guard by the height of Budge's follow-through, and managed to clip the top of the racquet, while at the same time leaving too much foreground. So the photographer got all three of these basics wrong. On the good side, he didn't get any of them so wrong that it ruined the picture altogether, so congratulations on that.

Since I know how to play tennis, I can tell you that Budge has just struck a topspin backhand. That allows me to venture a guess: a very short time earlier, he might well have been crouched down, knees bent and racquet back, ready to hit the ball. That position would make the aim of the camera more logical. But if that's correct, then we can surmise the fourth photographic basic the photographer messed up on: timing! He might well have been trying to catch the moment of the stroke or the moment of contact with the ball, but was a little slow, a little late. 

Backhand compliments
But there are a lot of good things about the picture as well. First of all, the subject: it's a picture of one of the greatest tennis players of his era, in his prime, in action. A year later, Don Budge would win the Grand Slam (in the only year he played all four of the grand slam events, by the way!) and turn pro. In 1942, he would injure his shoulder while in the military, and his game would never quite recover. He played his last match in 1961, and died in 2000. So—this is obvious but important—no one can ever take a picture of Don Budge in his prime and in action ever again. That's one function of authentic photographs. Whatever was recorded at the time is as much as posterity will ever have. As time passes, uniqueness compounds, and historical value makes pictures precious that might not be otherwise. Why else would an old copy negative be preserved in a public library archive when the photographer got the framing, focus, exposure and timing all not quite right?

Secondly, the composition is actually quite exquisite. First of all, there's the uncoiled gesture of the player's body, the way he has straightened up and relaxed in his follow-through, the expression of concentration on his face and the intensity of his eyes locked on the ball, the angle of his torso stretched and leaning to the direction of the ball's flight. From the extra ball still held in his tossing hand, we can tell it's his service game. And Budge's body, light against the dark background, plays off the gesture of the body of the ballboy behind him, who is holding his own arm in counterpoint to Budge's, in similarly light clothing, the two of them bookended by sitting linesmen in darker street clothes.

Then of course there's the picture's wonderful punctum: both feet off the ground. If you grant me my guess that the photographer missed the intended moment, then she captured another one. Decisively, we'll say. The feet off the ground are what gives us the effort and the grace of the stroke that the still picture implies. You might even say it's what truly makes it an action shot.

The beauty of chance
Would the picture be better without all those "mistakes"? I actually think not. The problems contribute to an innate sense of dynamism, and impart a feeling of life and motion caught on the fly. Early on in my fascination with photography, I "got" that photographs array along a continuum between the approximate and the perfected, depending on how much control the subject allows the photographer. Action shots like Lartigue's exuberant boyhood photographs, war photographs like Capa's D-Day pictures (Coleman claims he was scared, although I can't see how that diminishes the pictures), or the accidents of demotic snapshots all convey a sense of immediacy and authenticity, amplifying the sense that the picture shows reality recorded, whereas the cool perfection of, say, studio advertising photographs, in which every little thing is controlled, try to give us a glimpse of the ideal from outside of Plato's Cave. But idealized forms and rigid perfection can start to feel fussy and fastidious with familiarity. Not for nothing did "perfectible" forms of photography and video start to mimic the imperfections of recorded-from-life genres, as when fashion photographs started mimicking the look of street photography or television shows started being shot with hand-held cameras with lots of camera motion.

While it's not a great photograph, it has real charm.

I could write more about that, but the hour grows late and the voracious blog must perforce be fed, lest it grow surly! More anon.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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Moose: "So, in summary: Here's a photo that breaks all the rules, but is still at least close to great? I have questions, but first, as to some of the problems (Click on any photo for full size.): Original Topaz Photo AI Moose futzing.

"None of the following detract from the photo, but I have a curious mind: 1. The aspect ratio is almost perfect 4:3, not full 35mm frame. Masked on the original film? 2. I assume the men on the folding chairs are linesmen, paying little or no attention. The guy relaxing against the fence is a ball boy? Budge is holding a ball in his left hand. I suspect this is a demo or warm up piece of action. Perhaps even for the photographer? 3. How is Robert McNamara a linesman in Oz? He was 21 at the time, but looks much older. 4. Who did the presumed ball boy's hair?"

Mike replies:

1. All we know is that the copy negative is 35mm, not what the original negative was. I suspect the original picture was taken with a folder, which were very common in the 1930s (see certo6.com for examples), and probably was 645 format.

2. The linesmen pay attention to the line, not the players or the play. Budge is holding the ball in his hand, as I said, because it's his service game: he started with two balls in his hand and served the first one, which they're playing with. Most players no longer do it this way, but even when I was a boy it was common. This is definitely a match, because of the linesman, the ballboy, and the crowd, although they could have been warming up before the start, I suppose. Doesn't look like it to me. And, it has to be a ballboy because there's no other reason he'd be allowed on court.

3. Since it's McNamara, the picture proves that the Pentagon knows the secret to time-travel. (Reminds me of that wonderful incident when someone discovered an old tintype of a 19th-century man who strongly resembled Nick Cage. The conclusion drawn—I hope jokingly—was that the picture proved that Cage is a vampire. Someone else went so far as to prove scientifically that it was not Cage in the old picture, by comparing the lobes and folds of the ear. Like that was necessary. Totally goofy!)

4. I presume the ballboy did the ballboy's hair...remember the opening scene of Saturday Night Fever?

ChrisC: "Timing? Easy for us to say when we have cameras that shoot 12 frames per second. He was probably limited to something like 12 frames a day, assuming something like a Speed Graphic and allowing time to load the film holders in the dark room before heading out for the day. Perhaps that is an article for another day as you can probably fill in more detail."

Mike replies: If it was a folder, which is my guess, he might have had 16 frames, and perhaps an extra roll or two. And Jeff (in the Comments) is right, the film was probably ASA 125 or slower. Tri-X in rollfilm size was still 17 years away.

Michael Fewster: "As an Australian tennis fan who goes back a few years, I'd put my $ on Mike being correct in his analysis for the reasons he has given. The linesmen would have been totally drilled to watch the line and not the play. They probably would not have been so focused if this was the warm-up."

Mark: "If it's in the Hood collection then the photo is by Sam Hood, a well regarded photographer of that era. The SLNSW site says they purchased a large collection of his negatives in 1972 which were transferred to videodisc which was then digitised in 1996 and those images put on the library website. This multi-generation copying process might explain some of what appear to be technical deficiencies in the image. I wouldn't want to pass judgement on his framing, exposure, or focus until I saw a contemporary high res scan from the original film. Another website says he used a Graflex for over 40 years, but doesn't state the format."

Mike replies: Could be a press camera. It's doubtful the original film exists, if it was copied because the original was on a flammable base. Of course I don't know for sure.

jp41: "I am enjoying this post's deep dive into this vintage sports/action photo."

Print Size Poll

I'll probably be doing a little print sale of "Mennonite Boys Watching Dirt-Track Racing," since it's my most popular Sigma fp shot on Flickr so far (21,747 views and 521 Favorites as of now).

I'd like to know what size potential buyers would prefer. If I polled you as to whether you'd consider purchasing it, the leading answer by far would be "no," so the following question is just for those of you who like it well enough to consider buying it. If you're not interested, please don't answer!

This is the first time I've used this polling method. To simplify things, comments will be closed on this post.

Thanks for your help!

Mike

What Are the Vocal Ranges? (Music Notes)

This is a very cool little video. Basic, but everybody has things yet to learn.

Short, sweet, and to the point. Not a moment wasted. Well done, you.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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Open Mike: Men's Tennis Heaven

Photographer unknown: Don Budge, 1937

I very badly want to watch the men's Wimbledon final this morning between 20-year-old World No. 1 sensation Carlos Alcaraz of Spain and seven-time Wimbledon men's champion and all-time majors leader Novak Djokovic of Serbia, but I can't. I don't have a TV.

I'm coming up on nine years without one; big sports events are the one thing I miss. But, as I said back in the '80s when I first went without TV, "the problem with TV is that you buy one so you can watch the Super Bowl, but then three weeks later you find yourself watching a rerun of 'Bewitched' at two o'clock in the morning." That whole sentence being literally autobiographical. Nowadays I'm sure the rerun would be different, but I wouldn't know what it would be because, as I say, I don't have a TV.

My friend Jim hasn't watched television since the 1970s*. They do have a set in their closet. They take it out from time to time to watch a movie on DVD, but that's it. At the same time, he and Becky undoubtedly have more books per square foot in their house than anyone I know. You pick your medium. I watch movies on the computer—most recently, The Best Years of Our Lives, directed by Willi Wyler, which I loved. (Willi Wyler—I always use the German spelling of his first name, because he never officially changed it—is the most accomplished director that nobody but film buffs today have heard of.) I also watch sports highlights on YouTube. I'll be able to see Carlos and Nole's highlights later. Consolation prize.

I played tennis when I was young. My grandfather was an excellent club player when he was young, and my mother played too, and my younger brother. My cousin Lou (called Terry as a kid) was a standout until he was grievously injured in a car accident**. I took lots of lessons all through my childhood, and always enjoyed them. My younger brother Scott was much better than I was, and we played together endlessly, for years.

My peak was that I was No. 1 on the junior varsity team in high school when I was a sophomore. There are some pretty big caveats to that, though: the five best players in my class of 90 or so students, Michael Davidson and John Jeka and the rest, moved up to varsity in sophomore year, the first year they were eligible; and the actual best player left on the junior varsity, Fritz Kaesar, was strategically played at the No. 2 position so we would be more likely to notch at least one win at the top of the draw. I lost to the other team's No. 1 pretty much every week all season. Hey, it was my role. Our varsity won the Wisconsin State Championship several years in a row.

Scott went to Don Budge's tennis camp one summer. Don Budge is one of only two men ever to win the Grand Slam, which means winning all the so-called major tournaments, the Australian Open, the French Open, Wimbledon, and the U.S. Open, in order, in one calendar year. What makes it so tough, besides the unlikeliness of surviving a grueling draw four times in a row, is that the French and Wimbledon are played so close together in the Summer, and on "opposite" surfaces. The French is played on clay, which is slow and predictable, and Wimbledon is played on ultra-traditional grass courts (the game was originally called "lawn tennis" to distinguish it from an indoor version, no longer played), and grass is fast and unpredictable and harder to move on. Both surfaces are almost extinct on the pro tour and both were historically dominated by specialists. Fourteen of Rafael Nadal's 22 slam titles were won on clay at the French, but Roger Federer, the all-time leader on Wimbledon's grass with eight titles, has only won the French once, in 2009.

The other man who won the Grand Slam is Rod Laver, who did it twice, once in the amateur era and once in the open era. No other man has ever done it. Djokovic came within one match of doing it last year, losing in the finals of 2022's last major. Because the sport is so starved of anyone achieving its greatest accomplishment on the men's side, they've invented a thing called a "career slam," meaning someone who has won all four of those tournaments at some point or another at least once in their career. Six men, not including Laver and Budge, have done that. But that's not a Grand Slam. That's like driving in an RBI from first, one from second, one from third, and homering in four different baseball games and calling it a grand slam. Nope. They've also taken to calling each of the constituent major tournaments "a grand slam," which is lazy, as well as borderline wrong, although we "get" the usage. All to try to glorify the accomplishment of those who win one. Which is admittedly difficult to do. But, sorry. The "calendar" Grand Slam is the one and only Grand Slam. The last time it was done was 1969.

Scottie, back at his physical peak, is playing with Mr. Budge in heaven. I'll be young and fit enough to play with him again when I get there myself, but he'll still beat me. And I won't mind. If you're lucky enough to be watching the final this morning, enjoy it for us, will you?

Mike

*I happen to know that he watched Get Smart and The Man from U.N.C.L.E. when we were kids, though.

**After his accident at age 19, which nearly severed his right arm, Lou had to switch from playing golf right-handed to playing left-handed, only using his right arm for part of the swing. He was such a great natural athlete that he achieved a USGA handicap of 2 left-handed.

[CORRECTION: This is completely wrong! Apparently I made it up in my mind, based very loosely on actual facts. I called Lou. He was 16 when he was in the accident, he didn't start playing golf till he was in his thirties, switched to playing left-handed in his forties because of the accident injury, had a handicap of 15 playing right-handed, and his personal best is 85 playing left-handed. He turns 68 in November.

This is why journalists check their facts. Sorry for "making it into a story."

One thing I didn't get wrong: he was an excellent athlete, and a very good tennis player before the accident. He has limited movement in his right arm. I remember him telling me (I didn't confirm this yesterday) that he has to put his belt on his pants before putting the pants on, because he can no longer put on a belt while wearing the pants. So the fact that he can hit an 85 on the golf course is still pretty impressive.]

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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robert e: "I hope you did/will watch the match. It was worthy of a grand slam final, chock full of superb tennis, astonishing athleticism, and drama, including a nearly half hour long game at its rough midpoint. There were also a bunch of falls, a few arguments with the ump and a smashed racquet. Federer won only one French Open, Nadal only two Wimbledons. What might have happened if they hadn't gotten in each others' way? I wonder if the transition from clay to grass wasn't as big a deal in the era when every major was played on either grass or clay."

Mike replies: Only Bjorn Borg really managed it. And yet he failed to win a U.S. Open. On the other hand, he retired at the astonishing age of 25. That's only five years older than Alcaraz, and eleven years younger than Djokovic. He actually won major tournaments at a faster clip than Federer, Nadal, or Djokovic: 11 in 8 years, as opposed to 20 in 24 years for Federer, 22 in 22 years for Nadal so far, and 23 in 20 years for Djokovic so far.

It's important, too, to remember that major tournaments weren't always the be-all and end-all yardstick they are considered to be today. Number of tournaments won, number of weeks at No. 1, won-loss records, doubles titles, Davis Cup, and other measures were given more weight in earlier eras. Then too, before 1969, players were required to be amateurs! There was no prize money for the majors. Whereas for years now tennis has been highly lucrative for the top names. Many players in earlier eras would skip the Australian Open because it was hard to get to. Djokovic travels by private Gulfstream jet—and not a small one, either. Rod Laver turned pro after winning his first Grand Slam and was not eligible  for the majors until the Open Era started, when he promptly won it again. Jimmy Connors was banned from the French Open during his peak years because of his association with World Team Tennis. So there are a lot of things to consider when weighing players' records, especially across eras.

Although I am a big fan of Alcaraz, I was really hoping Djokovic would have another chance at the Grand Slam this year. However, this is a leitmotif of tennis for a fan—the brash-up-and-comer beating the older master in the autumnal years of the latter's greatness. You see it over and over again. I've been watching it since Jimmy Connors dismantled Ken Rosewall in the finals at Wimbledon and the U.S. Open in 1974, when Connors was 21 and Rosewall 39.

Paul: "Comparing athletes and sporting events of different eras, while entertaining and or intriguing, is futile. The game in nearly every sport has drastically changed. We like to toss out the numbers such as total Grand Slam wins or Super Bowl championships. As you suggest, Mike, the money made is Monopoly money now. Most athletes in older generations needed part-time jobs off season to make a living. I think one can make a good argument for the greatest of your generation, but not all time, at least in any realistic way. If Don Budge had access to the same technology, training and money as today's top players, he would likely be at or near the top as well.

"Talent can only go so far. If Tom Brady played in the '60s and '70s, his numbers would not be what they are today. The game was largely based on the running back. In addition, the likelihood of playing 20+ years was zero. He would have been broken, as every player on the field was fair game at that time. There was no rules protecting the quarterback. Place a wood racquet in Alcaraz's hands and his power drops significantly. He would have to play a different game."

Guns As Lazy Drama

With the Screen Actors Guild and the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (SAG-AFTRA), Hollywood's largest union, representing 160,000 film and television actors, joining the ongoing Writers Guild of America (WGA) strike, perhaps it's a good time to trot out another of my unpedigreed theories. These are thoughts I have that are neither bolstered by expert opinion nor checkable by fact-checkers nor taught in schools nor defended by polling. Here goes: it is my opinion that the greatest, the best, the most meaningful, the most insightful, and the most accurate piece of criticism of television and movies ever created or expressed is this short segment of the TV show "The Office":

I am waaaay, way past being sick to death of the eternal shoot-'em-up. Sure, when it's called for. Sure, now and then. Sure, when it's appropriate. But wall-to-wall, 24-7, never-ending mayhem and gore for all ages and in every situation? We're like gun-aholics. Maybe somebody involved in the strike could negotiate for the improv class teacher's dictum to Michael: "No more guns." Just for a while. Steve Carell's Michael Scott in this scene is Hollywood in a nutshell. Even if you love violence for some reason, you've got to admit it's true.

While we're at it, could we put the same moratorium on video games? I'm just sayin'.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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Kudos to Tracy (Music Notes)

Tracy Chapman. Photo by Hans Hillewaert.

Tracy Chapman, who is known to be of the LBGT community, has become the first Black woman ever to have sole writing credit for a No. 1 country music hit.

If you follow country music, you know the name Luke Combs, and if you don't, you might not. Luke's cover of Tracy's "Fast Car," which is dominating the country charts right now, exists in several forms. I can't disambiguate the variants.

A lot of people, understandably, don't quite know how to feel about the apparent "whitewashing" of Tracy's song, but Tracy Chapman herself is gracious: "I never expected to find myself on the country charts, but I’m honored to be there. I’m happy for Luke and his success and grateful that new fans have found and embraced 'Fast Car.'" She's quoted in a nice Washington Post article that doesn't make the issue too heavy. Luke Combs does sing the song with the original words, from a female narrator's perspective.

There's one common misconception in the WaPo article—when it's quoting how "Big Mama Thornton’s 'Hound Dog' was consumed by Elvis Presley" as an example of white artists appropriating Black songs. Not really. Big Mama was the first to have a smash hit with 'Hound Dog,' but she didn't write it. It was written by two Jewish guys. They weren't from the Delta, either—Jerry Leiber hailed from Baltimore and Mike Stoller from Queens. Leiber and Stoller, who wrote or co-wrote more than 70 chart hits and are in the Songwriter's Hall of Fame, also wrote "Jailhouse Rock" and "Yakety Yak" among many other things. They co-wrote "On Broadway" with Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil, and "Stand By Me" with Ben E. King, as well as "Young Blood" with Doc Pomus, whom I've written about before. "Young Blood" was memorably covered by Leon Russell at George Harrison's Concert for Bangladesh.

Anyway, it's not Luke Combs' fault that he's white, or that his version of "Fast Car" blew up the charts. It's a great song and it deserves to cross over to a new audience. I'll always prefer the original myself, but then, I've always had a thing for covers too.

I have a wonderful photograph, by Charles Peterson, of Louis Armstrong and a bunch of big-name Black and white musicians playing together in the kitchen of a segregated Harlem club. They had to play white with white and Black with Black onstage, but, after the club closed, they all got together and jammed with each other backstage into the wee hours. In one shot taken with a Speed Graphic press camera, that's the spirit right there.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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J. D. Ramsey: "'Fast Car' is one of those songs that—at least for me—gets under your skin, and you can listen to it over and over and not tire. The acoustic guitar riff just pulls you in and the words tell a real story of striving for a better life. Luke Combs may have a big hit, but Chapman's version will never be superseded for me. A moment of special musical genius where writer and performer come together perfectly. Thanks for the reminder of this wonderful song and how much pleasure it's brought for 35 years, still sounding fresh today."

Cameras We Missed (Ricoh GR IIIx)

I have a friend who has something like 50 view cameras. When I asked him why, he said he felt the need to "demystify" the subject: he wanted to understand the view camera—experience what other photographers had experienced, survey the developments over time—and the only way to do it was to get familiar with the quirks and foibles of many of the available types and historical alternatives.

I have certainly demystified cameras in my lifetime. I have no idea how many different cameras I've used, but it must be in the hundreds. I'm familiar with the Canon Xapshot, the Instamatic 104, the Olympus C-3040Z, the Argus C3, the Mamiya C33; the Kodak Disk Camera, the Wisner 20x24", the Sony F707, the Nikon F2, the Deardorff 5x7, the Zeiss Contessa; the Konica T-3, the Bronica SQ-A, the Nikon D700, the Mamiya 6, the Hasselblad 500C; The Konica-Minolta 7-D, the Minox B "spy" camera, the Panasonic GF1, the gigantic Fuji GX680, the Ricoh GXR with its odd removable sensor modules. The list goes on and on. Rangefinders; cameras with wire frame viewfinders; TLRs; view cameras with fresnel lenses on the groundglass; SLRs; DSLRs; smartphone cameras; pinhole cameras; copiers used as cameras; scanners used as cameras; tailboard cameras; digital cameras with less than a single megapixel before the word "megapixel" even came into currency.

I used to have a sense that there were lots of cameras I still wanted to try, but I'm not sure that's true any more. It's possible I've about had enough. Now I just want to use my cameras. I'm very happy with my current cameras, warts and all, but they have made me lose interest in lots of other cameras, including many of the old ones I own.  The most recent sea change in ("real") cameras was the switchover to FF mirrorless c. 2018, and this is maybe the first major development in 40 years I haven't kept up with personally. (I do know they're great cameras, because I keep my ear to the ground.)

But when I pose the question to myself—any cameras out there I still want to try?—the answer comes up "yes." The one that come to mind is the Ricoh GR IIIx.

Who says the Ricoh GR IIIx doesn't have a viewfinder?

The GR line is one of the stoutest and most durable lineages in cameradom at the moment. There have been 13 of them, beginning with the (film!) GR1 in late 1996—when Bill Clinton was President, Larry David had just left his decade-defining show "Seinfeld," the Spice Girls were a thing, and the rounded "jellybean" Ford Taurus was the best-selling car in America. In 1996, there was no iPhone, no YouTube, and Netflix hadn't even started mailing out physical DVDs in those little red envelopes. In other words, long time ago now. The GR made the changeover to digital in 2005, without losing its established identity. And the GR cameras seem to have something rare that used to be true of Leica—they seem to have a far higher percentage of devoted fans than their market share would predict. Their partisans love 'em. I've never tried one, in all those years, but I'd like to. Not now, though. Someday.

So how about you? Any cameras you've missed? What have you always wanted to try for yourself but never have?

Mike

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Andrew L: "I had a jellybean Taurus in the mid-2000s, a cheap used car which ran for just over 200k miles for me before the transmission needed a major fix or replacement which I couldn't afford/didn't want to afford. The trunk space in that thing was amazing, all of the hockey gear for me and my friends was a breeze to pack around, and the 3.0l V6 Vulcan engine was absolutely bombproof. Ugly car, chintzy interior, but its utility was unassailable.

"I own the GRIIIx, and it's totally unique out there for a standard-lens compact that goes into any pocket. Snap focus is a bit harder to use than the wide angle 28mm version due to shallower DoF, and it's still hard for me to point and shoot without looking at the screen for sneaky street shots. Something about the small size of the camera makes muscle memory a difficult proposition, you never know precisely what your lens is aiming at. But the lens is one of the best I've ever seen, superbly optically corrected, and the GR imaging engine is second to none, even if the sensor isn't cutting edge anymore. It's a truly great camera, it could be your only camera, giving up absolutely nothing except edge use-cases."

I'm Grumpy About Prime Day

You know what I'm most nostalgic for?

No, not film; not the intrepid globetrotting hero photojournalists of yore (no one ever took those away from us, even if the heroes now are Instagrammers and influencers); not the image coming up on fiber-base paper in the developer tray; not for metal, manual, mechanical cameras; not for Contax or Bronica or Konica or Olympus-made Olympuses. I'm nostalgic for the peak years of the digital "frontier market," the years on either side of 2012. I was there.

Back then, digital cameras were white-hot-selling products. Everybody wanted one, and then another one—they were hip and happening, and fun, and popular. Waves of traffic arrived on photo websites everywhere from shoppers, alongside the mavens and the veteran Photo-Dawgs and the enthusiasts. And almost every time anyone held a sale, a digital camera was featured right at the top of the list. Sometimes the only thing in the sale. And sometimes they sold out before the sale was over. Nostalgic sigh.

Cooler than a camera? I think not.

Well, it's Amazon Prime Day today—for another 12 hours or so—and on the Prime Day pages I had to go to the bottom of page three before I got to any photo stuff. (Yes, I'm going to post a few links, but I'm still a bit grumpy about this.) Cameras used to be featured at or very near the top of all the pages of deals. This year, they list Apple watches, Dyson vacuum cleaners, computer monitors, DeWalt power tools, WiFi6 and mesh systems (which are great, by the way), battery-powered lawnmowers and garden tools, Vitamix blenders, portable iPhone recharging batteries, Gillette razors (I love the Fusion5 shavers even though I decided I can't afford them), Instant Pots (yay), personal DNA tests (these are fun—I found out I'm 12% Spanish, which came out of left field), and Google Nest thermostats before they finally get down to "Camera Essentials from Top Brands." Bah. We used to be cool! I wish I had known enough to enjoy those days more. I didn't realize they were going to go past us so fast.

But still, I've got the camera I love, and that's enough for me.

Mike

P.S. And by the way, B&H Photo is fighting back with a great sale on M2 MacBook Airs.

P.S.S. Also by the way, most of the links are to things I use, have tried, or have written about before.

Original contents copyright 2023 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. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Sinan Çakmak: “Re 'I'm nostalgic for the peak years of the digital "frontier market," the years on either side of 2012. I was there.' Me too! Looking back on those years I can’t help but think of the late Michael Reichmann. He was a great advocate for all things new! But not only that; It was also through his website that I got acquainted with your articles. I feel your blog is the only connection I have left to those (good old?) days when I was making a living with the kind of photography I loved, in Turkey, the country that I loved. I don’t photograph and I don’t live in Turkey anymore. But I read you. I hope you keep writing for a very long time!"

Mike replies: Thanks Sinan, and I hope so too!

Albert Smith: "Last year on Prime Day, I bought on a whim an Invicta Pro Diver automatic watch for $59. It's 200 meters submersible, has a Seiko movement (4R35) and it cost less that some of the straps that I put on my nicer watches. It is a true beater and I abuse it without fear, yet it maintains flawless operation and has accuracy that shames many of my multi-hundred-dollar watches. This year, it is $48. I bought two just to throw in the cupboard. I never would have known about it without Prime Day."

robert e: "I know what you're really missing. Those were the days when we were fielding half a dozen questions a day from friends, family, clients, even random strangers—about what to buy, about how to use what they bought per your advice (or against your advice), about how does this photography stuff work, anyway? etc.

"We were heroes! Gurus! We were needed. Because many cameras in those days were awful. And the good ones required skills.

"Now? The crappy cameras are gone (except the ones that are intentionally crappy for aesthetic reasons). The good cameras have more expertise than any single person ever had, and do it all for you. No one needs us to show them how to get good exposure and focus. No one needs those cameras anyway because the cameras in their phones are so good and just as smart. Or because they're still happy with the camera you advised them to buy ten years ago, when they can be bothered to fish it out of the closet.

"For all those reasons, few people need to shop for a camera, and if they do, they don't need much help or advice.

"I dunno. I'm kinda grateful for the peace and quiet, and the extra reading time. Especially since, for pretty much the same reasons that no one needs my help shopping for a new camera, today's cameras just aren't a lot of fun."