"One of the things Bob always talked about was staying in the wide whenever you can show the world."
—David Simon, Executive Producer and Head Writer of the HBO show "The Wire," talking about his co-producer for seasons one and two, the late Robert Colesberry, who set the directorial "look" of the show. Simon was talking about how TV often doesn't show much context, and how Colesberry liked to stay with wide-angle shots when he could. From one of the commentary features included with the DVD set. Simon mentions Colesberry's prediliction to "stay in the wide" numerous times in his commentaries.
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(Just thought I should go and find this after mentioning it in the previous post.)
-Mike
Original contents copyright 2013 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.
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Hudson: "I work with a lot of historic photos, and a common joke/comment among the staff and researchers is 'if he had just taken two steps back before taking the picture....'"
Ben Wilkes: "I think the Colesberry rule is most useful against the kind of camera-club criticism that wants to remove all secondary and tertiary elements from any composition, in the name of 'removing distractions' and 'distilling the essence' of the image. Personally, I like an image that makes my eye wander around the frame. Nothing wrong with a subject that is clear and self-sufficient, but I would be more likely to hang one that made me rethink its implied relationships a few times."
([Look at this for a few beats and then see footnote at bottom of post])
(Blood spatter)
(Sunset)
(White wall)
Some pics made since Tuesday with the lately arrived GX1. As you can see I gotta get out of the house more....
Mike
Footnote: I wonder if you saw this as a face right away. I've always been fascinated with the way our brains are predisposed to see faces...we're probably more sensitive to faces than any other visual phenomenon. If you didn't see it as a face, go back up to it and see if you can help seeing it as a face now that I've suggested it....
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Frank: "Which lens? How did you get such depth of field with this small sensored camera?"
Mike replies: My fave, the Panasonic 20mm ƒ/1.7. Shallow d.o.f. is as much a function of where the plane of focus is (and focal length) as aperture. The closer you are, the shallower the d.o.f. Think of it, have you ever seen a macro picture of a subject with depth that didn't have the background out of focus? In fact, Micro 4/3 has just about the right balance for me...enough d.o.f. but not too much.
James Sinks: "Mike, thanks for (finally!) posting some of your work on its own.
I like the glasses photo best of all, but I spent the most time puzzling
over the sunset. I never read artists' text first time 'round, and I
just couldn't work out why there was an insanely bright sodium vapor
lamp blasting through one window while I could clearly see daylight
reflected through another."
Mike replies: Well, next time you see that golden sunset light, look at the sky 90 degrees from the sun.
If you're interested, here's the evolution of the "Sunset" shot—not very imaginative since the tripod was set up in the only place in my crammed-full office it could possibly go!
The one I used is the copied file. There were a couple of other possibilities, but I chose the one I did because of that rim of light on the top and right-hand side of the picture frame—I thought it was kinda cool that the shadow of the saddle bar—that's what the horizontal bars in windows are called—and the top of the picture frame happened to line up perfectly.
Note how the color of the direct sunlight changes as it gets later (the intensity changes because the sun was shining through bare trees, so as it moved it was relatively more or less obscured). I could keep an eye on what the sun was doing by watching its reflection in the glass, by moving my head a little bit to the right of camera position.
And here's the "grab shot" from a day or two earlier when I first noticed what the light was doing. This is literally taken from my desk where I sit to work, holding the camera up at arm's length—you know, just fiddling with the camera. I actually like this composition better—the Robert Colesberry Rule, "Stay in the wide"—but it needed more d.o.f. and a lower ISO and no way could I set the tripod up in this position.
Peter Wright: "I didn't see the face, and still don't except that I can understand how
the components make up a face-like structure. I have difficulty
remembering faces; even people I have seen regularly and then not seen
for a few weeks can be difficult for me—it can be embarrassing! So
perhaps this part of my brain doesn't work at an optimal level."
Mike replies: If so you have some distinguished company. The great neurologist Oliver Sachs suffers from prosopagnosia, a.k.a. face blindness. In his excellent bookThe Mind's Eye, in which he discusses it, he says that when he arrives at a restaurant to meet his personal assistant of ten years for lunch, she has to wave at him or he can't find her, because he doesn't recognize her face.
Just a couple of days ago I got to do a task that's one of the things I like best about my job—I got to select four prints by Michael A. Smith and Paula Chamlee for our upcoming print sale.
For a long time now I've wanted to do a print offer of large format (LF) and ultra-large-format (ULF) silver-gelatin contact prints. (For those of you who don't know what a contact print is, it's when a negative is laid directly on the photo paper, sandwiched between the paper and the glass of a contact printing frame—it creates a one-to-one sized print that's the same size as the negative.) It's not easy finding the right artists for such a thing—when offering artwork for a fraction of normal gallery prices, one of the ways artists can "protect the value" of their regularly-priced work is by offering smaller-sized prints. And, obviously, that doesn't work with contact prints! I'm very happy that Michael and Paula agreed to do this.
Photographer Michael A. Smith
The two of them first went through all of their pictures and picked several dozen that were appropriate for series printing. Then they sent me a CD with all of those photographs on them. I picked a dozen I liked best, and a few days later a luan mahogany plywood box arrived from Pennsylvania containing mounted and overmatted archive prints of all the pictures I'd selected. That was a treat. From these, I picked two of Michael's 8x20-inch prints and two of Paula's 8x10-inch prints, and a few alternates. Fortunately, we're going to be able to offer my first choices in this sale.
Michael and Paula have been working fine-art photographers for a long time. They're widely collected, with prints in more than 140 museum and private collections. They have published many books—Michael has five to his credit, including the famous A Visual Journey, published in conjunction with his 25-year retrospective at the George Eastman House, and Paula has published six, including one of my own favorite photobooks, High Plains Farm, a loving look at her farmer parents (then in their eighties) and the windswept plains farm in the Texas Panhandle where she grew up.
The lowest prices they normally sell their work for is $3,000 for an 8x20 and $2,000 for an 8x10—and that's only for their newest, latest work; older work increases in price from there. For the five days of our sale, we'll be able to offer Michael's two 8x20s for $350 each and Paula's two 8x10s for $250. Plus we'll have discounts for multiple orders. Each print will be mounted and overmatted—Michael and Paula never sell unmounted prints—and signed. After our sale, five Artist's Proofs will go into their archives and then that's it—the images will be retired permanently. The TOP Print Offer images I chose last Friday will never be offered for sale again.
As usual, our print sales are only open for a five-day window; as
regular readers know, when it's done it's done. (Again, if you don't
know our sales model, we take orders first and allow the photographers
to print to order. This is how we can make it both profitable for the
photographers and a nearly matchless bargain for you. TOP gets 20% for hosting the sale, meaning most of the profits stay with the photographers but I get a swell commission. I like to call it a "win-win-win" situation, and I really think it is that.)
The sale will begin near the end of this month—I'll announce the exact date next Monday or Tuesday.
I hope you like the pictures I picked—it wasn't easy. I tried to choose examples that really bring out the distinctive beauty and extremely fine, delicate detail of contact prints. Michael and Paula are both essentially (but not exclusively) classical landscape photographers, so I tried to pick pictures that highlight their connectedness to the almost mystical beauty of the natural world.
Check in on Monday for the announcement of the start date. Or if you want up-to-the-minute alerts, subscribe to TOP's Twitter feed at @theonlinephotog.
Mike
Original contents copyright 2013 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site.
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Geoff Wittig: "It would be difficult to exaggerate the esteem in which Paula and Michael are held in the photo book world. Their Lodima Press imprint has produced some truly exquisite books, from the best Edward Weston book on the planet to an eclectic range of small softcover monographs. And their own work is just beautiful; Michael's wide format book of images from Tuscany is one of the highlights of my library. So I can hardly wait to see what you folks are offering...."
Dale: "Nothing, absolutely nothing in photography is as marvelous as a well executed contact print! Now, one of an interesting composition is worth buying and these sound like they will be a steal!"
How the world conspired to make me buy a new lens: A review of Canon's new image-stabilized 35mm ƒ/2 lens
ByJames Leynse
My advice: never get a new camera. I have been happy with the Canon 5D MKII and a collection of shift lenses, zooms, and the Voigtländer 40mm pancake lens. The camera has served me well through almost four years of daily use. For the architectural photography I do for work, the set-up using the shift lenses is just about perfect. With the 40mm lens mounted, the camera is light enough to double as my everyday, "walk about" companion. The only real problem with the MKII is that there is now a MKIII.
This is when the rationalizing begins. My MKII is starting to show its age. It has its fair share of scratches but is still in good working order. I can sell it, while it still retains some trade-in value, and get the new MKIII. When the price of the MKIII dropped a bit with rebates, I took the plunge.
Here I am: brand new MKIII, just like my old MKII but newer and with no scratches. Jokes aside, it is really a great camera: bigger LCD, better implementation of auto bracketing, better autofocusing and (and this was a big plus for me) no increase in megapixels. I appreciate not having to buy a new computer to go with the larger files of a new camera. One major purchase at a time. At least, that was my plan.
As I found out, there is one little inconvenience that comes with all the goodness of the new MKIII. By adding an electronic level and an on-demand grid screen inside the camera's viewfinder (both useful tools when shooting architecture), Canon opted to not allow the focusing screen inside the MKIII to be changed. (Note that you can do so on the newly released Canon 6D.) On my MKII, I had been relying on the replacement Canon Eg-S Super Precision Matte Focusing Screen to manually focus my 40mm Voigtländer. With the new MKIII, that isn't an option. For optical reasons that I can't explain, viewfinder focusing screens can either be bright and easy to see or dark, contrasty (a.k.a. "snappy") and easy to manually focus with. In this day of slow zooms and fast autofocus, most DSLR manufacturers opt for the bright screen option.
Technically, it is still possible to correctly focus the 40mm lens while using the new camera. There is live view or the blinking green dot in the finder which will tell you when the lens is correctly focused. I find both techniques less than ideal when hand-holding a camera. After several weeks of using the MKIII with the 40mm, I had to admit that my hit rate of in-focus shots had dropped significantly. What to do?
ISO 160, 1/800, ƒ/13. Shooting against the sun, there is virtually no flare
This is where we get to the reason not to buy a new camera and to my review of the new Canon EF 35mm ƒ/2 IS USM lens. (Yes, it is a mouthful.) One new purchase begets another new purchase. What do all all those abbreviations mean? This is an autofocusing (EF) 35mm lens that will fit both full-frame and cropped sensor Canon cameras. It uses Canon's very quiet ultrasonic focusing motor (USM) and has image stabilization (IS) built into the lens. They tweaked the autofocusing so that it works better when being used for video too. It also has a relatively fast maximum aperture of ƒ/2. It sounds like the perfect new companion for my perfect new camera.
My first impression on receiving the lens is that it is a lot larger than the 40mm Voigtländer. The Canon lens takes a 67mm filter vs. the Voigtländer's 52mm. The lens has a much larger profile when mounted on the camera. It is also much larger than Canon's first generation EF 35mm ƒ/2, which this new version will eventually replace. That's the bad news. The good news is that in terms of weight, the difference between it and the Voigtländer is not so great. Thanks to the generous use of plastic, the 35mm weighs a little over four ounces more than the diminutive 40mm. To my hands (and neck) each lens seems to weigh about the same when mounted on a camera.
An example of the IS at work. Wide open at only 1/4th of a second
There are those who will criticize Canon's use of plastic. I can't really find any fault with this design. There is metal where you need it, on the lens mount, and the plastic used on the barrel seems to be of high quality. There is very little of that plasticky feel here. In fact, the lens seems to be very tightly put together. Unlike the Canon EF 50mm ƒ/1.4 I once owned, nothing shakes when you pick up this lens. The focusing ring is very well damped, almost as smooth as a good manual focus lens. It lacks the weather sealing found on Canon's top-tiered L lenses, but it seems to me that otherwise the new 35mm is up to L lens standards. I would have no problem taking this lens out in the rain.
In fact, I have no problem taking any lens out in the rain. In my twenty years as a photographer, I can remember only one instance (an early Nikon AF zoom) where I had a lens stop working because of the rain. It had gotten a prolonged soaking but it still came back to life after a little drying.
The other "bad" news when it comes to Canon's new 35mm is the price. The old 35mm ƒ/2, which was introduced in 1990 and doesn't offer the quiet USM focusing, now retails for $289 [you have to add it to the cart to see that price —Ed.]. The new 35mm IS USM goes for $849. That's a pretty big jump. If that seems like too much to pay for a 35mm lens, wait six months. The EF 24mm and 28mm ƒ/2.8 IS USM lenses were released last year at the same price as the new 35mm. Both now retail for under $630. It's likely that this new lens will follow the same pattern and the price will come down. It's still a lot to pay for a 35mm ƒ/2 lens; but then, you are getting more for your money.
Here you can see the vignetting wide open, easily removed in software. Another very slow shutter speed made possible by the IS, 1/5th sec.
Autofocus on the 35mm works like it should: fast and nearly silent. The focusing takes place inside the lens. Nothing moves on the outside. This makes it a lot easier to use filters and other attachments. I haven't done any extensive image quality comparisons with this lens, but I can say that it produces sharp pictures at all apertures. Nothing to complain about in this department. There is some visible vignetting when shooting wide open, and some barrel distortion. Both faults are easily removed in Lightroom or some other types of image-editing software. In fact, this 35mm is almost boring in its demeanor. There is no big, showy front element that screams expensive. The lens just works.
The biggest surprise for me is how effective the image stabilization is on this lens. It's so quiet that I can't tell it's working unless I press my ear against it. Combined with the new high-ISO abilities of the 5D MKIII, I can take pictures in light almost too dim to see by. In fact, it was actually hard to find suitably dark scenes to illustrate the lens's IS ability. For the moment, this might be the best low-light lens around.
I had difficulty finding examples in my files that were shot in dark enough conditions. This frame, at ƒ/2.2, shows the lens's bokeh
I have long appreciated image stabilization on telephoto lenses. I have Canon's EF 70–300mm ƒ/4–5.6L IS USM lens, and the image stabilization on that lens is a game changer. After a few months of using it, I entirely abandoned my 70–200mm ƒ/2.8. However, I wan't convinced of the need for IS on a wide angle lens. I wan't against it. I just thought that it wasn't necessary. After using this new Canon lens, I have changed my mind.
Canon claims that the IS on this lens gives an extra four stops of usability. That figure might be a bit of a stretch. The effectiveness of IS is hard to quantify and probably varies depending on who is doing the holding and how much coffee or alcohol they have had to drink. Regardless, IS definitely makes a difference here. The old rule-of-thumb (pre-IS) is that a lens can be safely hand-held down to a shutter speed closest to the lens's focal length. Therefore, a 35mm lens could be safely hand-held down to 1/30th of a second. I used to feel that I could reliably shoot a 35mm lens at 1/15th of a second. Using this lens, I am now getting sharp photos at 1/5th of a second. Maybe I could even do 1/2 second if I brace myself. That's not four stops better, but it's a good two stops and maybe more. That two stops improvement in low-light shooting puts this lens ahead of Canon's very good and expensive EF 35mm ƒ/1.4L USM lens and probably on par with the also very expensive EF 24 ƒ/1.4 L USM. Both of those lenses are bigger and heavier than the 35mm IS. Its also easier to get an in-focus shot at ƒ/2 than with the narrow depth-of-field of a lens wide open at ƒ/1.4. Using that logic, I think we have a new winner for "available dark" photography.
That is, until Canon comes out with its all-new EF 50mm IS Super USM ƒ/1 CNTheDRK lens. Even if they do, that lens won’t be for me. I won't be tempted because I am not going to buy a new camera!
James
James Leynse is an Architectural and Corporate photographer based in New Jersey. His photos can be found at his website, leynse.com.
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My column last week about mysterious out-of-focus areas in a series of my photographs brought forth many useful and interesting suggestions from readers for experiments I might do to further pin down the cause of the problem.
I encountered only one small difficulty with these: the problem wasn't repeatable! I had 10 photographs with profoundly defocused areas, and that was it. Nothing before and nothing since. Makes it more than a little difficult to investigate further.
Mind you, I and those readers could (and did) do an awful lot of data-mining from the existing photographs. We could eliminate many possible sources for the problem from the available evidence and narrow it down to a few plausible ones. That, though, was as far as I could take it. I may never know the answer...unless the problem resurfaces in a way that lets me either test it further or get equipment repaired. If repairs are what is needed; even that isn't obvious.
This is one of the (many) reasons why doing useful photographic research is hard. Often the things you want to investigate, especially the problem areas, don't cooperate by appearing at your beck and call. That doesn't necessarily mean they are random or inexplicable occurrences, just that you don't know how to control the situation well enough to force them to appear reliably (or, more usefully, make them never appear).
This afflicts even the best researchers with the most well-equipped labs. Most of the major research I've undertaken over my photographic career has proven somewhat controversial for precisely that reason. Other people may not see the same results or have the same experience as I do. That doesn't make my research invalid, but it can make it very difficult to validate.
Likely the most famous example of that is my study into the cause of bronzing and silvering-out in RC black-and-white photographic papers, to which I devote considerable pages in my book Post Exposure, available free online. I'm not going to detail the research here; you can read my deathless prose in the downloadable book. The essence of it is that those papers are susceptible to damage because they generate their own reactive compounds under exposure to light. The damage can be entirely prevented (well, so far; it's only been 16 years) by very, very light selenium toning or treatment with a preservative solution that used to be sold by Agfa called Sistan.
That's it in a nutshell. Should be pretty easy to check out, right? And, indeed, when I published my results, Agfa, Kodak, and Ilford all paid them considerable attention (I do have some credibility). Agfa readily confirmed the self-oxidation problem and publicly acknowledged it, even going so far as to recall and suspend production of certain papers while they worked on reformulating them.
Kodak was less forthcoming about the matter. In private conversations with me they were happy to say that they agreed with my results. Publicly, they decided the less said the better.
Ilford was the major holdout. They persisted in the belief that there were no inherent problems with these papers and that any bronzing or silvering out could be attributed to poor processing or environmental damage. These were known to be problems; when Gary Mortensen was still running the photo department at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, he showed me Ilford Multigrade IV RC prints that had clearly suffered damage from chemical compounds in the air. Some sort of "sick building syndrome" for photographs was at work. They had hundreds of these and it was most clear that RC black-and-white prints were not stable in the MIA's environment.
Ilford, though, would not admit that there was anything innately problematical about the materials. It was all bad processing or bad environment. They had a good reason for doing so. They had tried to replicate my results. They couldn't get the prints to deteriorate under exposure to light. It just wouldn't happen for them at all. What else were they going to do? It's not just that it's difficult to acknowledge a problem you can't make appear, though that's true enough. Had the roles been reversed, I'd have been skeptical. It's that if you do acknowledge it there's still absolutely nothing you can do about it! How do you eliminate a problem when you can't make it show up in the first place?
Inferentially, there must be other factors involved besides simple light exposure. That's not only supported by my and Ilford's results, but by photographers' real world experiences. Many photographers have experienced the silvering-out problem; many others haven't. Very few experienced it as reliably as I did. Without that reliability, testing different conditions to isolate the causative factors becomes nearly impossible. I happened to be the right person in the right place. Lucky me.
Ilford and I never did figure out why I was so "lucky" and they so extremely "unlucky." Like my fuzzy photographs last week, we'll probably never will figure out just why some properly-processed RC prints are subject to self-deterioration and others aren't.
Photography, like all of life, is filled with many mysteries. One must get used to living with a certain amount of uncertainty.
Ctein
Ctein's weekly column on TOP appears with adequate but not absolute reliability on Wednesdays.
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John Robinson: "I'm a software developer. A lot of software developers hate 'debugging'...but I love it. It is more science, than mathematics, because it is all about experiments. If you can't reproduce the problem, then its harder, and I like it more...that's just me.
"The most difficult problems are the ones for which the detection is farther away from the cause in time...in fact, the farther away the manifestation is from the discovery, the more difficult the problem is. Debugging is about guessing, and then building tests that will prove, conclusively, that the guess is wrong. You can never really prove it is right...but you can, in learning to reproduce the problem, prove definitely that your hypothesis was wrong. If you can not reproduce the problem, then you have to debug it 'in the wild.' Those are my favorites...also the most difficult.
"I have no idea what caused the problem you observed...my best guess would be some atmospheric (non-camera) phenomena...I would suggest returning to the same place on the same day of the week, or same day of the month, to see if it re-appears. Not easy, I know.
"And, as with all debugging, sometimes, you just want to know it doesn't happen all the time...then you'll keep an eye on it...wait for it to happen again...if it starts to happen a lot, then the priority goes up...otherwise its just one of those mysterious things....
"Life is full of mysteries...one of my favorites is 'why are there any rules at all?' Said another way, we humans tend to view order as a sign of intelligence. I'm not a big believer in God, or 'Intelligent Design,' but the fact that there is a mathematical equation that can reproduce the shape of a fern is, to me, incredibly profound...I don't know why this is, but accident is not the item at the top of my list.
"One of my favorite stories, from a friend, is of a woman who complained that her word processor (yes, this is going back a bit) was inserting long strings of random spaces in her documents. Several technician visits failed to uncover the malfunction. But the next time the problem was reported, another technician was dispatched. Rather than intervene, he just observed. Basically, he said, 'show me this problem.' The demonstration led to the observation that from time to time the woman's ample breasts were depressing the space bar, unbeknownst to her.
"Sometimes, very simple, obvious problems, take a long time to solve...because they're only simple, and obvious, once you have all the information."
J: "When I used to work at Lick Observatory on Mt. Hamilton (45 years ago), we used to sit on the wall overlooking the Bay Area enjoying the view of the lights along the Bay as the sun set (or rose). I remember the twinkling of the lights in the unstable evening air and the wisps of fog floating along the shore. We would wait hours for the air to stabilize before observations would begin. I guess you see where I'm heading with this...."
Ctein replies: This was covered in the previous column, but since you posted the comments here…. Atmospheric distortion does not jump around in such a way that when you're doing a panoramic sequence it only shows up in the right 25% of each frame and does so in each and every frame consistently. Well, not unless the gods are really out to get you! If it's a divine malevolence, not much I'm going to be able to do about it.
Bruce: "I repaired Olympus cameras for 20 years. I can...er, could...pull an OM-1 apart in my sleep. My biggest problem by far was when a camera came in with a fault, supported by negatives, but it was not reproducible. Drove us stark raving mad. Ctein has beautifully summarised the dilemmas we had in the repair industry. (I'm now out, selling cameras retail, and having a ball trying out all the goodies which come into the shop.)
"I have my own theory as to why the image is unsharp. Many of the posted comments are worthy, but not supported by facts. Without being at the place of taking, knowing the camera settings, it's very difficult to diagnose the problem. It really is a "glitch" until it occurs again. (See real meaning of 'glitch' here—I heard it first from the Apollo space program in the '60s.
"My Canon 7D with 24–105mm gave intermittently unsharp pix in my aerial photos for a month, then miraculously cured itself. Still dunno why. Has never happened again. Ahh, the mysteries of the Universe."
psu: "I also work in software, which means that most of what I do is dealing
with what I have done wrong six months ago.
On the topic of debugging: one of the best discussions of debugging ever
put to paper is in the classic Tracy Kidder book The Soul Of A New Machine
about a team of engineers designing and building a new computer
in the late '70s.
The chapter called 'The Case of the Missing Nand Gate' is a veritable
reference manual on what you do to find those awful intermittent bugs.
"Oh. And even though the book is about a 30-year-old computer that you've
never heard of, it will teach you more about computers than any other
lay-person-readable text in the world. I'll pay you back if it doesn't."
Mike adds: I agree—one of the great books of the present era and a must-read for everyone, young or old, smart or slow, computer geek or normal civilian.
I like exercises. I'm a natural teacher, I think, in that I like learning things and I like finding ways to provoke students to learn things. (Although I haven't had any students for well over a decade—almost two. Sad, that.) I'd rather investigate something with an eye towards learning about it than "do" it...whatever "it" is. I'm a bit of a teacher on TOP, even. In a manner of speaking. Even though I receive as much knowledge and wisdom here as I impart.
Accordingly, I've given myself self-assignments throughout my involvement in photography. No big deal, really...I just like finding out about things. Some of these self-assignments work, some don't. Some are big and boundless, some are small and constricted. In fact, for the past few months I've been toying with the idea of writing a series of "Afternoon Exercises" posts this coming Spring...short quasi-assignments designed to help people improve their seeing, as opposed to their photography or photographic skills per se. We'll see about that. I think it could be interesting. If it's not too much work, and if enough people like what I come up with.
In the previous post I said that this morning I might be "doing something positively antediluvian: working on the computer offline!" The first response I got, from a reader named Mark, said, "I got a better idea. Go out and take some pictures. LOL."
Hmm. Funny how people assume I don't take pictures. I seem to be hearing that more and more lately.
Apropos of that, I thought you might be interested to hear what I've been up to lately, photographically speaking. I gotta warn you, though, it's really...well, dumb.
Accumulated skills, or a giant rut? I'd become aware that, over many years, I've developed a "philosophy" of photography, in the demotic sense of that word...that is, ideas about how photography functions and what it does best, what kinds of pictures are "good" or work best, etc. What kind of pictures I like best. In addition, I've developed certain habits of working, certain aims and goals...ideas about what I'm after, ways of seeing, and of course a bag of "usual tricks." We all have our "usual tricks"—ways we go about making pictures that, over time, we've learned work for us. Things we can do over and over again knowing we're at least partially assured of a good outcome.
So it just struck me one day that maybe I should just completely obliterate all that. Not just head in the other direction, but completely abandon everything I know about making good pictures, just to see what happens.
Just as an exercise.
Why not? It's not hurting anybody. Although it might be temporarily a bit hard on my ego. Heh.
So for this exercise, I've been shooting in ways that completely ignore everything I've ever learned. Not controlling things, not applying craftsmanship, not avoiding pitfalls or problems. Anti-perfectionism. Then just looking to see if anything sort of somehow works. About the only thing I can tell you about it for sure is that I've been throwing away a hell of a lot of pictures! The latest card I downloaded, for instance, yeilded three files that I bothered to keep...out of 4GB.
As an adjunct to this, I've decided to just play with the files in Photoshop as much as I want to, utterly winging it, completely divorced from my usual ideas about reproducing reality, or real colors or real light—all my well-established habits and ideas.
I don't intend all this to be anything permanent, of course.
Worth it? Who knows? I can't tell you yet if there's anything to be gained from this exercise. And please note that I'm not (I said NOT) suggesting anybody else try this. I don't even know yet if it's halfway worth the time it takes.
But it really is kind of interesting. It feels quite risky...and actually quite stupid, too! But then again, as I say, it doesn't hurt anybody and it doesn't commit me to anything.
I can't say I've gotten a "good" result yet, and I certainly am not going to show anyone the results so far, so don't ask—sorry, but I'd sooner go to a dinner party in my underpants than show anybody any of this $#!t. It does feel liberating, though, I'll say that. Like a weight, a responsibility, has been whisked entirely into nothingness.
I wouldn't even have mentioned it but for that comment. But it seems like a good diversion at the moment. Who knows how much energy it'll have, or how long it will last? I'll never know if I don't try.
Mike
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John Krumm: "This sounds like a good idea, kind of fun, and it seems how creativity is pushed sometimes. Of course the equivalent on a piano might not sound so great, but luckily nobody has to hear you play with your photography. Perhaps after your experiment you can teach a workshop on 'letting go of what you know.'"
Kenneth Wajda: "Interesting idea in theory, but I don't know how you can do that, Mike. I play guitar and there are things that I instinctively do, but if I were to try to throw all that out the window, I couldn't. It's too well set. It's instinctive. I can't imagine taking a photo and turning all that off, either. Unless I was going for 'bad composition,' but why would I do that? Does not compute."
Jeff: "Reminds me a bit of the 'George does the opposite' Seinfeld episode. Except, of course, that he was going not against his learnings, but against his instincts, which had consistently resulted in bad outcomes."
Mark: "Wow, not only have I scored a featured comment about a week ago, my first, but now I've actually been mentioned in your post. I am truly honored. I do, however, want to apologize if you thought I was being a smart aleck or anything of the kind when I said go out and take pictures. I am a very long-time member of a popular Canon forum (POTN), and whenever the forum is down for maintenance, that's what it always says: Go out and take pictures. That's what I was quoting. Oh, were it that simple. I'm often working and unable to go out and enjoy doing same. Yesterday I did have off and went to the Bronx Zoo where I shot almost 10 gigs. Some of it was video, which I rarely do, though the two lions were roaring their heads off so it was very cool.
"Enjoy, Mike, and I like the fact you're hanging off the edge, stretching the envelope, so to speak, cause if you ain't off the edge artistically, you're taking up too much space. ;-) "
Bill Pierce: "You have changed three things because you have recently acquired a new and different camera. But the hardest thing to change is what you shoot pictures of. Most of us take pictures of what is around us. And we have job and family responsibilities that tend to keep us in one place. Blessed is the journalist who gets to travel to exciting places or is given permission to document an interesting person. If you take off to a place you’ve always wanted to explore, that means we won’t have any TOP. I don’t know how you solve that problem (unless an in depth essay on Lulu would be a change for you and a dynamite essay for TOP)."
Mike replies: My biggest impediment, no doubt. I am not inspired by my locale....
Rob: "Mike, here is the reason why you are having trouble producing images
that please you. Although you have deliberately discarded all your
usual rules for creating pictures, you have retained your rules for
evaluating them. It is a sort of philosophical trap. The only way out
is to judge what you create with no standards of good or bad. Is that
even possible?"
Mike replies: I may have mischaracterized what I'm after. I'm just trying to ignore my usual prejudices about what makes a good picture, is all; saying I'm "avoiding craftsmanship" and throwing judgement out the window wasn't quite accurate. Sorry. The pace of blogging is not ideal for thoughtful writing.
I'm shooting about one or two of these a day; can't wait to finish my work today so I can get to today's. Yesterday's was not a picture I would normally "allow" myself; but it did evolve over about 100 shots, and the full file got worked on quite a bit in PS.
5:45 a.m.: We're having intermittent but persistent phone-line problems here at TOP World Headquarters—the line keeps going dead, causing a cascade of Internet outages. An AT&T technician is supposed to be arriving between 8:00 and noon.
And I might finally be getting close to relaxing the clenched tightwad muscle sufficiently to spring for cable Internet. We just signed up for AT&T UVerse a couple of months ago, providing a searing 5 mbps connection speed. Which is better than the .25–2.5 mbps we'd been limping along with before. But only if it works.
I might be able to get Ctein's column posted in between outages, but maybe not. I compose in the TypePad interface, and when the 'Net goes down, so does the interface...frequently taking bits of unsaved work with it. Combined with the hinky Bluetooth of my new (and soon to be old) wireless keyboard, which has regular seizures, it's like trying to work with hypermanic monkeys in the room. Who knows when I'll even be able to get this posted.
The meantime might find me actually doing something positively antediluvian: working on the computer offline! Wow. Take me back to the '80s and '90s.
—Mike, TOP Head of Housekeeping and All-Purpose Radar O'Reilly
UPDATE 9:45 a.m.: Well, I have to give AT&T props for punctuality. They were out here by 9:00—two trucks, no less—and in 45 minutes had replaced all the phone lines in the house with new cabling. Everything seems fine again, but I'll keep my fingers crossed. Can't wait till the new keyboard gets here (note to self: never throw old keyboard away until you're sure the new one works).
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You can tell a lot about aesthetics just by looking.
Of course, there's no way to judge whether you're always right or not. For instance, I have a strong conviction that I can almost always tell when a painting was made from a photograph. I have no good or easy way to test that conviction, though. Is my confidence on that score to some extent self-delusion?
It's possible. I just don't think so.
So here's what I think about the newly-introduced Corvette: it looks to me like what happens when an inherently conservative, cautious, committee-based, buttoned-down corporation tackles a project for which the design brief is to create something flamboyant, adventurous, ambitious and individualistic.
The result—not great, not completely terrible—has a decidedly "too many cooks" look about it. Two things I'd lay money on: there was more than one stylist in on the project, and none of the stylists involved were completely happy with the result.
No way to test that, of course.
But you can tell a lot just by looking.
Mike
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richardplondon: "I believe I know the name of the designer: Alan Smithee."
MarkB: "'An inherently conservative, cautious, committee-based, buttoned-down corporation tackles a project for which the design brief is to create something flamboyant, adventurous, ambitious and individualistic.' Having worked with automotive designers and styling studios for the past decade, I can confirm that you've just described the way design is handled at nearly every major car manufacturer. There will always be the occasional 'risky venture' like the original Ford Taurus, the New Beetle, or the 'Bentley' redesign of the Chrysler 300, but 90% of the cars we see on the road are produced as you describe. Even the outlandish, 'way off the mark' vehicles, like the Nissan Juke or Pontiac Aztek, would've been better if the non-designer executives could trust their designers to do their jobs. Of course, everyone with two eyes and a mouth has to 'help.'"
m3photo: "What were they thinking? In short: the Asian market."
Hélcio J. Tagliolatto: "Car design (and haute cuisine) are those rare instances when Americans must learn from Europeans."
Hugh Crawford: "Running boards? It looks like a Chris Bangle restyle of a Dirt Devil. And really, running boards? Really?"
Mike replies: That "looks like" line made me laugh.
Gene Baucom: "As a 'stylist' and graduate of Art Center who worked for GM both in the U.S. and Australia, I can assure you that no car is the result of a single designer. Not ever. Designers come up with concepts. Design managers takes parts of those concepts and mix them up into a concept of their own. Clay models are created. The old men with gray hair and expensive suits arrive. They often make suggestions: 'I like the front end of that one, but the back end of the other one.' Or 'it needs to be more swoopy,' or 'If we expect to see this for $60k it needs more chrome.' Not to mention the carefully selected focus groups, and that everything is designed on computers by people who couldn't find a spark plug if their life depended on it.
"It's not good or bad, just the way the industry works."
Compared to the GF1 Oddly, the first thing I notice about the Panasonic GX1 is that it seems considerably smaller than its spiritual though not literal predecessor, the GF1. It is in fact only barely smaller by the numbers: 2.7mm less wide and 2.2mm less tall. The GX1's thickness measurement is greater, but only because of the bigger grip; the body itself is a few millimeters thinner.
Yet it just feels smaller. A number of factors probably contribute to this: the fact that I've had a Kirk L-bracket tripod mount on the GF1 that I'm too lazy to take off when I don't need it, which adds 74.2 g to the weight; the plainer, less ergonomic body shape of the GF1; and the fact that the new camera tilts my gram scale at 316.1 g vs. the GF1's heavier 343.1 g.
The GX1 (right) feels appreciably smaller than the GF1 when you're holding it even though the two cameras are close to the same size.
The greater thickness of the GX1 (right) is due to the meatier grip. The actual body is several millimeters thinner.
So, two things: first, the GX1 feels much more ergonomic and hand-friendly than the slight differences would imply; and, second, the GX1 is also about as small as I'd ever want a camera to be. It fits my hands, but just barely.
In keeping with these other differences, the thumbrest is only slightly larger, deeper, and lower than the GF1's, yet it feels considerably better. Even so, it's about as small as it can be to be useful with my largish hands. (I have to admit, I don't think I've ever even noticed the thumbrest on the GF1, despite having used that camera a lot.)
Hand-feel is an individual thing, and you might feel differently. Ergonomically I like the GX1 quite a lot. The On-Off switch is nicely placed to turn on the camera by sliding your thumb up a bit, a motion that I'm sure will become second nature very soon. (I turn it off with my right index finger.) The handgrip is particularly nice, for my hands anyway. The thumb-side of my right middle finger lays in right alongside the inside the grip in comfortable fashion, putting my hand in perfect position to work the controls. Mikey likes it.
On the down side: there's nothing wrong with the construction quality of the GX1; but the GF1 just feels a bit more more solid, better put together, more deluxe. Maybe it's the weight; maybe it's the finish; maybe it's the fact that the mode dial of the GF1 has an incrementally smoother feel and a cleaner click as it hits its detents. The dial on the new camera feels just noticeably cheaper. Not a big deal.
Overall, though, it's just funny how much better Panasonic has made the new camera feel by tweaking things just a little. I'll shut up about this now.
Compared to the G3 Now then. Compared to the very similar Panasonic G3, I'd have to say that the SLR-style G3 is more practical in almost every way at the moment. It's a lot cheaper, since it's on closeout for $249 right now, and especially considering the extra $180 you have to pay for the LVF-2 add-on viewfinder for the GX1 (the EVF is built-in on the G3, of course). The G3 is shorter than the GX1 when the latter has its viewfinder in place, even though it is about 69 grams heavier. The controls are similar and so is the sensor (at least according to external reports—I haven't compared for myself).
And of course the G3 has one more big advantage—an articulated viewing screen.
Consider intangibles, though, and the equation flips. The G3 feels like a polycarbonate appliance in comparison. Nothing wrong with that, but it's like a bargain kitchen knife set from Target as opposed to one Miyabi Morimoto chef's knife, or last year's Chevy Malibu vs. a Volkwagen GTI. The GX1 is just a much nicer thing, and it feels better—nicer to hold and use—and it's nicer to look at. More pleasing all around, sez me. I'd use it more.
Nothing wrong with a G3, of course—and there's absolutely no sensible reason to switch should you already own a G3. (I hear they're reliable, too.) But unless I was being frugal, I'd pick the GX1 over the G3 any day.
I'll see your flippin' viewing screen and raise you a flippin' EVF ...To be fair, the GX1 can do a few tricks the G3 can't. You can take the EVF entirely off the GX1, for one thing, if you don't want it or need it. (I typically just need the EVF outdoors in bright light, for instance, and I use the viewing screen in dim light.) And the GX1 electronic viewfinder can do this:
Note that the lens hood on the 20mm is non-standard. From my odds'n'ends box.
The viewfinder can stand all the way up, so you can use it like an angle finder or like a chimney finder. Now, once upon a time I wouldn't have given two figs about this, but then I tried a flip-up electronic viewfinder like this on the Ricoh GXR—and discovered I liked it. It can be very comfortable. And handy sometimes as well.
And of course you can use the GX1 like this, too:
This is a Voigtländer 35mm OVF. Not an exact match for the 40mm-e 20mm, but close enough for government work.
I guess you could clip an optical viewfinder to the hot shoe of the G3, too...if you're the type who doesn't mind wearing black socks with sandals. Dorky. Of course, as every guy wearing black socks and sandals will tell you, appearances aren't everything.
The final issue I have to acknowledge is that personal history counts for a bit. Not just in terms of a warm squishy friendly feeling, but in terms of a continuing familiarity. Longtime Canon DSLR users feel more comfortable with new Canon DSLRs, longtime Nikon DSLR users feel more comfortable with new Nikon DSLRs. Just the way it is. As I've mentioned before, I've used the GF1 more than any other camera over the last three years, so I probably feel a little more comfortable with the GX1 than I would if I were coming to it cold.
• • •
More in a few weeks, after I've had a chance to shoot with this little beaut for a while.
Mike
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Gato: "Reading your comments about G3, it's just about what I have been saying about the G5 vs. the GX1. Thanks to a small cash windfall and the pre-Christmas sales, I wound up with both. On paper, making lists of pluses and minuses, the G5 wins. Wins big with the articulated LCD, auto switching from LCD to EVF and even a bit smaller in the bag (compared to the GX1 with EVF). The G5 grip fits my hand better, though the GX1 just feels more solid.
"In the end, when I pick up a camera to make pictures it's the GX1 pretty much every time. I have to make an effort to use the G5, even just to give it a fair chance. The GX1 just has so much more a quality feel.
"The damn people at Panasonic offer everything I want in a camera, but they won't put all the pieces in the same body. Damn."
D. Hufford (partial comment): "Any camera with a tiltable viewfinder gets extra points from me now. I cannot live without one after having used one on my Olympus E-P3 for the last 18 months. When I pick up one of my Nikon DSLRs with the shut-up-and-look-through-it-the-way-Nikon-says old-timey view finder, I feel restricted. In fact, I now feel handicapped."
Matt (partial comment): "'Utilitarian' is not really a dirty word, just a dull one. I think the G3 is actually a very, very good camera, even though it only whispers 'use me' instead of screaming 'love me!'"
For the full text of partial comments, see the Comments Section. —Ed.
I need a small-sensor digicam (i.e., no larger than 2/3") with a good lens, excellent closeup capability, and either a PC flash sync connector or a hot shoe that will take a Nikon AS-15. Doesn't matter what pixel size, but higher is unnecessary as this will just be for the Web.
Anybody who does small-object macro photography have any suggestions? (Please, no suggestions just from specs; I can do that myself.)
Thanks in advance!
Mike
UPDATE: Not really sure I need to pursue this. Look at the product shots in the post just above this one—"Panasonic GX1 Impressions"—do they look adequate to you? Those were done with the D800 and 85mm ƒ/1.8G. To get adequate d.o.f. and flatten the perspective I just backed way up and then cropped way in. Not an elegant way to work but it seems serviceable and the results seem okay to me, plain but not bad.
I was just thinking that a small-sensor camera would make a lot more sense for product-type shots for the blog. But I use off-camera flash and I need a sync connection. Of course the D800 has one.
(I use a bog-simple lighting setup: a monolight and umbrella on the right, and a white reflector on the left. The background is a Dove Gray Foba TT Plast plastic background sheet. The monolight is a cheap Sunpak that has served me well. Zander was using the monolight a few weeks ago and managed to knock it over, so there's now a big panel missing from the side, showing the innards to the world, and the power socket got stove in. But the darn thing didn't have the decency to stop working, depriving me of the rationalization for replacing it. You know what they say: oh well.
I keep thinking anxiously of selling the Dragoon while I can still get all that money back out of it, then trying to tell myself to calm down until summertime when I can actually use it a little. Maybe if I can do some TOP illos with it, it will help me to justify keeping it for a while.
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Denver quarterback Peyton Manning and his family waited around for an hour and a half after the game to congratulate retiring Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis. Photo by Baltimore Ravens Media Director Chad Steele.
The Divisional Weekend (just concluded) is the favorite weekend of the year for many fans of American football. Four games, two each day, and the eight best teams of the season—no bums or pretenders left standing. NFL.com called this "one of the most exciting playoff weekends in history."
Got that right. I had no energy left by the time the last game was winding down—a conventional thrashing of the Texans by the Empire Storm Troopers of the League, the Yankees of Football, the Boston-based New England Patriots.
My Green Bay Packers (Wisconsin being true football country) sadly got both outplayed and out-coached (sorry, Dom Capers, but you got owned). San Francisco's new quarterback, some mope named Kooperninck or Kappernuck or something like that, hung right with Aaron Rodgers in passing. But—whoops—he also set an all-time NFL record in rushing for a quarterback—first in a playoff game, then in all games, playoffs plus regular season. Okay then: it's Colin Kaepernick. We know the name now. Wish I still didn't.
(More subtly, the game featured the best and worst O-lines still in contention before the weekend. As an old Redskins fan from the Gibbs-Beathard era, I still think the O-line is the bedrock of a solid team. I can only hope that's how the Pack will spend its picks in the next draft. Why waste the best QB in the League behind a rickety, rattletrap offensive line?)
The two best games of the weekend both featured improbable defensive breakdowns in the closing seconds of regulation, to the heartbreak of fans in the losing cities and the wild delight of fans in the winning ones. Seattle completed another remarkable comeback with only a few seconds left to go, and by rights should have won—but it's a tradition in the NFL to stop playing defense when something big is on the line. They used to call it the "prevent," pronounced pree-vent. The singular feature of the prevent defense is that it doesn't. Anyway, the Seahawks promptly allowed Atlanta to march right up the field and kick a long field goal to steal the game back right after it got stolen from them.
The best game, however—and one of the best games ever—was a running gun-battle by two teams at the absolute top of their respective forms. The lead between Baltimore and Denver seesawed back and forth all day, until Denver wrapped it up—only they didn't. Needing a touchdown to stay alive with just seconds left in regulation, the underrated Joe Flacco pulled off a miraculous long bomb to Jacoby Jones that will go down in gridiron history as "the Flacco Fling." Baltimore finally won on a field goal in double-overtime, sending 2012's most impressive powerhouse down to unlikely defeat and putting an unhappy cap on the sparkling comeback of the great Peyton Manning. Condolences, Colorado. Congratulations, Marylanders.
If you missed the game the first time, NFL Network is re-broadcasting a full 3-hour summary tonight.
Good thing I've got a week to recharge my football-watching batteries. I'm footballed out for now. No post next Sunday, just so you know.
Mike
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Ken Jarecke: "Peyton Manning is a class act. This photo gives me a (painful) reminder of an image I failed to make.
"Manning lost his last college game, against the Cornhuskers in the Orange bowl. After the game, I was following Tom Osborne (another class act) looking for an image that showed it was his final game as a head coach. I'm watching Osborne through the open locker room door, Peyton (once again wearing a suit) walks into Nebraska's locker room to congratulate Osborne and shake his hand. Another photographer whispers to me to not make the photo, cause Osborne wouldn't like it. Foolishly, I kind of listened and the hesitation caused me to miss the moment.
"It's true what they say, it's the pictures you miss (or the games you lose) that you remember the most."'
David Bostedo: "I'd just like to add that I think most people's take on the prevent
defense 'preventing you from winning' or it's main feature being that is 'doesn't' are mainly a case of selective memory.
No one remembers the hundreds of games where the prevent kept a team
from making a big play that would have one the game, because those games
turn out boring, without a comeback. Everyone remembers the few that do
result in some kind of great comeback. And no one ever sees the
additional comebacks that would likely have happened without the prevent
defense."
Mike replies: If you say so.
psu: "The Denver game was really more decided by a bone-headed play by the safety. It never should have gotten to a lame duck throw on the run that got picked off. The Pats/Yankees comparison is perhaps apt in terms of national perception (evil empire, all that) but the cost structure of the NFL and MLB are so different that that's really as far as you can go with it. In the modern era the Yankees have won with money, the Patriots with reasonably savvy management and the luck of having drafted Brady."
SHJ: 'Just a crucial point of clarification: Foxboro is closer to Providence RI that it is to Boston, so the geographically correct designation is 'Providence-based New England Patriots.' :-) "
So I'm a creature of habit. I go to the same grocery store most of the time, roughly at the same times of day, and I go through the same checkout clerk's line because I like chatting with her—she's a middle-aged black lady named Angela with a sardonic attitude and a lot of wisdom.
Yesterday, just trying to make conversation, I happened to mention to Angela that the tabloids must go out of their way to find ugly pictures of celebrities. One tabloid I saw in the checkout line managed to find a bad picture of the Duchess of Cambridge to put on its cover—which takes some doing, because in the opinion of most of the world she is one good-looking princess, even as princesses go.
So what happens then? By coincidence, I came home to watch the news,
which included the breaking "human interest" story about the official
portrait of Kate...in which she's looking even worse than in the offending tabloid cover at the grocery store!
Ouch.
It makes me laugh, it's so bad. The portrait, by Paul Emsley, makes her look like a lizard. Or like she's doing a bad impression of Bruce Willis's smirk.
So how do you make a young woman that pretty look so...not? There's a good explanation, I think.
Let's face it—portrait painters don't work from life these days, especially with busy and entitled* subjects. They work from photographs. The official portrait of the Duchess of Cambridge, like most portrait paintings, is a painting of a photograph**.
The problem? Whoever picked the photo Mr. Emsley worked from just picked a bad shot. That's my take. Any portrait photographer worth his or her salt wouldn't have included that one in the proof package.
It might have been
the Duchess herself who chose it, because she's reportedly pleased with the
portrait. (Although another possible explanation for that is that she's as appalled by the portrait as the rest of the British public but just very good at her job, which is to remain poised and gracious in public no matter what. Even so, that she wasn't shocked by the unveiling would seem to indicate that she'd seen the image before.)
My opinion is probably predictable. Despite that one tabloid cover at the local Pick'n'Save, the Duchess looks better in almost every
photograph I've ever seen of her than she does in that painting. They should have just picked a good portrait photographer to do her portrait. Annie Leibovitz or Dan Winters would have done a better job.
...Or Jane Bown, if the photographer needs to be British.
Ms. Bown might not be working much any more, though, as I believe she's getting close to 90 (come to think of it, didn't she retire a few years back?).
I don't know—who are the best British portrait photographers working today?
Mike
*Literally!
**And, it's wise to remember, what you see here is a small JPEG of a photograph of a large painting.
UPDATE10 p.m.:You have to admit I called it. Here's the painter working from the photograph chosen by the subject herself.
ADDENDUM Monday noon: Several commenters have noted that the painter had two sittings with the princess, so the painting wasn't completely done from photographs. I doubt that very much. "Sittings" in the modern painted-portrait industry aren't actual sittings where the portraitist works from life—they're really just brief meet-and-greets so the parties can get acquainted and, more importantly, so the pretense of longstanding artistic convention can be nominally observed. I doubt the "sittings" in this case were anything more than pure pro-forma, for the sake of appearances mainly.
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Rodolfo Canet: "I totally agree with you, Mike, but I'm usually so absorbed with photography that when I saw the news I believe it was a photoshopped image, not a painting.
"This brings to my mind the recent affair we had in Spain with the official photographs of our princess (a former presenter of our national TV news, by the way) on her 40th birthday. The shooting was performed by Cristina García Rodero, one of the most awarded photographers in my country, but who specializes in reportage not portraits (she's a Magnum member). Contrary to expectations, the photographs ended up being something rather lame, more adequate for popular magazines than to García Rodero's porfolio, to the chagrin of Spanish photography lovers.
"If anyone is interested, the images can be easily Googled with the terms 'Letizia fotos 40 cumpleaños' and her usual work can be seen at her Magnum page."
Mike replies: I like this picture of your princess. The soft earthen colors, the interesting way the man behind her confuses with and echoes her outline, the slash of darkness at the left, her hand on the door, and her flattened reflection. Very nice. Any idea whose photo it is? I found it just now when Googling her as per your instruction.
Manuel (partial comment): "Suddenly Lucian Freud's infamous portrait of Queen Elizabeth II starts to look good."
David Brookes: "The BBC report yesterday said that he started with a serious expression
and then tried to change it—which is probably why the eyes and mouth
do not seem to match. I suspect that this painting will be quietly 'lost' once the initial interest has died down. Lady Churchill destroyed
Graham Sutherland's portrait of Sir Winston, so there are precedents in
the higher echelons of British society!"
Jfg: "Actually, this is a small JPEG of a photograph of a large painting of a
print of a (most likely) digital photograph that had (most likely) been
digitally retouched. Five degrees of separation?"
dwig: "Well, there are two things at work in the portrait that are part of the issue: 1.) The closed-mouth smile—this is not part of the public's image of the Duchess. I did a quick flip though the images Google produced and probably no more than 1% showed her with any form of closed-mouth expression, much less lacking a smile. 2.) The eyebrows—this is to me a major error in the portrait and can't be judged an 'interpretation.' The Duchess's eyebrows are very level. The portrait tilts them in a manner generally associated with characterizations of mean and/or evil faces.
"I also feel the cheeks and facial lines don't go with the relaxed smile. The cheeks that the Duchess is known for show when she smiles with her usual 'bright' open lips smile and seem exagerated in the portrait whereas the face is otherwise in a relaxed gentle state."
John Hall: "I think history will judge you wrong Mike. The longer I look at this portrait the better I like it."
Mike replies: Only if history forgets what she actually looked like.
Mandeno Moments: "It doesn't even look like Kate, because the distances between the various landmarks are incorrect. E.g., the vertical distance between her lips and her eyes is far too great. The hair is all right, and the rest is all wrong."
Jimmy Reina: "I don't think the photographer needs to be British.
Last year, there was an interesting New Yorker article about Thomas
Struth, the German photographer who took the current portrait of Queen
Elizabeth and Prince Philip.
It was a very original image-formal, but not stiff in any way."
Mike replies: Interesting article.
richardplondon (partial comment): "It's very interesting to compare the Lucien Freud portrait against this new one. Freud's rigorous, exhaustive (exhausting) process depends on working and re-working by making constant fresh reference to reality—acknowledging that even seeing what reality is is problematic and endless in nature."
Well, ain't that nice. Olympus has kindly introduced a series of rebates on the OM-D E-M5, our Camera of the Year for 2012.
Basically, you can get $50 to $100 off the camera or kit, and $100 or $150 off each Olympus lens purchased with it, for up to three lenses. The offer covers more than 40 lenses.
The offer is supposedly good through January 19th, which is a week from tomorrow, but don't forget that B&H is closed from Friday afternoon through Saturday evening for the Jewish sabbath.
Little beauty Meanwhile, in related news, I've just gotten a Panasonic GX1 in-house to write a bit about. The GX1 isn't the most exciting camera of the X era, but it's quietly gone down in price enough to become a true bargain at only $449. (Here's the black one and here's the pewter-colored body that matches the color of the 20mm ƒ/1.7 lens.)
That's cheaper than the new Pentax MX-1, a fixed-lens, small-sensor digicam.
The Gx1 is the heir to the GF1 that was my most-used digital camera until the OM-D arrived on the scene. It should be interesting to directly compare the IQ of the GF1, GX1, and OM-D, all with the same lenses.
Mike
Original contents copyright 2012 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.
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.) Featured Comments from:
Benjamin R. George: "$450 sounds like a good price for a GX1, until you notice that the G3
(same tech generation, not that much bigger, EVF built in) is currently
going for $250 (body only)."
Mike replies: That's because I actually bought a G3. Any camera I buy with my own money must depreciate much faster than average. Law of the mocking Universe.
So—as you might be aware if you're a faithful reader—I've been having some health problems, and trying to effect some lifestyle changes.
My practical photographic expertise was as a custom printer, back in the day as they say, and, say what you will about the darkroom, at least in the darkroom you were standing up and moving around all day long. Now there are days where I get up in the morning, sit down at my desk, and, apart from occasional trips to the bathroom and the kitchen—and sometimes fifteen minutes sitting in front of the television while I eat—I'll still be sitting in front of the computer 14 hours later.
And the topic of the dangers of sitting too much has been making the rounds of the media lately. (Google "sitting bad for you" for multiple examples.) So I've been trying to rig up a standing desk.
I had one of these in the basement:
So I hauled it upstairs and set it up next to my sitting desk. I bought a second monitor which I mirrored to my iMac. There remained the problem of the keyboard; you can't connect two keyboards to the same computer, at least as far as I know. An Apple employee provided the obvious answer: use a wireless keyboard and just move it from the sitting desk to the standing desk by hand.
(Why both kinds of desk? Simply because I don't think I can stand up all day. At least not at first.)
But the Balt Diversity Stand pictured above is really a lectern, not a desk. It barely has room the keyboard and mousepad at the same time, and it's not very sturdy.
And of course I've been having all sorts of problems with the computer. I use the Microsoft Natural Ergonomic Keyboard 4000, and the wireless version has a peculiar funky glitch (in keeping with tradition—I don't think I've ever used anything made by Microsoft that doesn't misbehave): it won't work right when Time Machine is updating. What's up with that?
The great sourcing search Visits to several local furniture stores, including one that boasts of having five acres under one roof, turned up not a single example of a standing desk. In fact, most of the salespeople I spoke to didn't know what a "stand-up desk" or a "standing desk" was. Dead end.
Well-made furniture: the Key West from standupdesks.com.
Then I discovered standupdesks.com (Amish Country Furniture Sales). They specialize in stand-up desks. Not only do they offer dozens upon dozens of choices, but they'll custom-make one for you to your specifications. This has got to be the option for people who need a presentable piece of fine furniture in their homes or workplaces.
But there's a catch. (At least for me.) Sitting desks are pretty easy to size, because chairs are adjustable and most people are of similar "height" when they're sitting down. The standing desk is a touchier proposition. Small changes in elevation make a big difference in comfort and ergonomics, and the desk needs to be customized to your height and arm length*. If I were to buy a custom-sized stand-up desk from standupdesks.com, it would be utterly typical of the mocking Universe for me to spend a lot of money on one that turned out to be two inches too short or too tall. So I started to fret and worry about the ideal height of the desk, and which desk to order. And did nothing. Too many choices. Indecision will turn me to stone as surely as gazing on the head of the Medusa.
Eureka! Then, on the way home from the doctor yesterday, I passed an office furniture store, and, purely on a whim, turned in.
Lo and behold: what should catch my eye virtually first thing inside the door, than the Jesper Sit-Stand desk from Jesper Office of Branchburg, New Jersey (relocated from Denmark [the country]). It's a pleasingly well-made and apparently very sturdy table in several shapes, sizes, and wood finishes that's motorized. It moves up and down, quietly, at a rate of two inches per second, at the touch of a button. It goes from a height of 25" to 52" (63 to 132 cm). The site boasts that it will fit individuals from 4'11" (150 cm) to 6'11" (210 cm).
Having just one desk at which I could both sit and stand would mean I could go back to the wired keyboard, i.e., the one that actually works. And having an infinitely adjustable height means I won't have to worry about getting the height exactly right sight unseen.
This will happen down the road a piece, because I'll have to reorganize my entire office to make this fit. (And because I lack the scratch at the moment, being, um, Nikon-poor.) But this is the solution.
Here's a video of the Jesper Sit-Stand in action (start it at 45 seconds in if you're in a hurry. You can leave the sound off, as it's nothing but bad disco music).
Cool, huh? That's the one for me. Eventually.
Mike
*Here are the sizing guidelines if you're interested: a standing desk should come up about to your elbow when you're standing comfortably and bend your arm; adjust from there. Similarly, the top edge of the monitor should start at eye level, and you can adjust for personal preference from there.
Original contents copyright 2012 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. A book of interest today:
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.) Featured Comments from:
Jack: "Can I order one through your Amazon link?"
Mike replies: Jeez...YES
! I didn't even think to check. Amazon has everything.
Diego: "Why get a stand up desk, when you can get a treadmill desk!"
Mike replies: Wonder if Amazon sells hair shirts, too?
Dale: "For what it's worth, I also use that keyboard—I liked it so much, that
within about a week of first using it at the office, I also went back to
the store to buy one for use at home.
For longer composition and 8-hour days at the computer, they're much
nicer than 'straight' keyboards—and my wrists thank me at the end of
the day."
Mike replies: It's not only all I ever use, it's all I can use now...I can hardly even type at a regular keyboard any more, I'm so used to this. The wireless one is the fifth or sixth one I've had.
NL: "I sit at a desk all day and had back issues for years. Here's my simple
solution: get a standard office chair, and take the back off. It is
usually bolted on somehow, and comes off easily. You end up with
something like an adjustable padded stool.
What's really bad for your back is slumping against the backrest, so
that your lower back is convex. During an eight or ten hour day, it is
almost impossible not to do this. However, with no backrest, you can't
slump.
It works great for me."
Bill Pierce: "This is not an 'off topic post.' You have saved a lot of us who are
turning into desk jockeys, in small part because the wet darkroom is now
the dry desktop."
Bruce Crawford: "I've had a motorised sit-stand desk for 6.5 years now after injuring my
back and spending five weeks at home staring at the ceiling. In the
early days after returning to work it was very useful to be able to take
breaks from sitting but still get work done.
I don't stand with it much now (foot problems) but the easy
adjustability is still useful as I can readily change the desk height
for different tasks, i.e. typing, reading, eating (yes I eat lunch at my
desk), etc., without necessarily going to standing height.
"Another useful feature of a standing desk is that it reduces the amount
of time people camp in my office since if I'm standing they feel they
have to as well."
Bryan Willman: "I have a large-as-possible version of something called a 'Geekdesk.'
Good news—it's a nice desk, and you can set it to any possible height
you might need.
Bad news—you will very likely fine-tune to some sitting position and
leave it there. The ergonomics will be the best ever—the reduction in
sitting, not so much.
Good luck."
David Aiken: "Before I retired I worked in the health and safety area for an Australian federal government department, and office ergonomics was one of my major areas of concern. Standing desks are a very good idea but you also do need the ability to sit as well, and there are two ways to achieve that. The first, the one you're pursuing, is an adjustable height desk that can be raised for standing and lowered for sitting. Motorised are definitely the best option but can be expensive. There is, however, an alternative.
"You can also use a fixed-height desk that is the right height when you're standing, and use a draughtsman's chair, basically an ergonomic chair with a high support stem, to raise your height when seated to an appropriate height for the desk. Ergonomically this is just as sound an approach and it may well be cheaper.
"I'd correct your height recommendation and suggest that the desk height be a centimetre to two centimetres below standing elbow height, and add that you should make sure you don't have your shoulders raised when you measure this height. Your arms should be hanging naturally from the shoulders at the time. If in doubt, get a slightly higher desk—you can always raise your own height a little by standing on a sheet of plywood, or two, or three. Basically, you can raise your own standing height fairly easily just by standing on a low platform, but you can't lower your standing height. Since most people buying a fixed height desk won't be able to have it made to size, this is the bit that rarely gets mentioned. Buy higher rather than lower, then stand on something to raise your height to that of the desk. The alternative is to stick something under the legs of the desk to raise it, but it can be trickier getting something exactly of the same height, and of the correct height, to stick under each of the legs. It's a lot easier to play with a couple of thicknesses of plywood or MDF and a small mat or some carpet tiles to make a low platform to stand on, especially if you're not good at carpentry.
"The people who will have the most problems are those at the extremes of the height range, the shortest and the tallest. The tallest may have difficulty finding a desk high enough for them; but if they get an adjustable one, they shouldn't have any problems at the sitting end of the adjustment range. Short people may run into the opposite problem, they should be able to find a desk that adjusts high enough while they're standing but won't go low enough when they're sitting. Their solution at the sitting end is to adjust the height of their chair to the desk in the sitting position and to then use a footstool to provide support to their feet.
"And, as someone else observed, break up your working day by varying your activity and posture."
Peter: "I bought the Jesper sit/stand desk about nine months ago and I have to say, it is possibly the best purchase I have ever made. I now stand almost the entire time I am at work, except when I am having lunch. When I do want to sit, a simple press of a button brings the desk smoothly down. I can then move it back up to accommodate any particular task; reading, working with a keyboard, drawing, what have you. Being fully adjustable, the desk top is always exactly the height I want. It makes an enormous difference in how I feel at the end of the day, and completely eliminates that sludgy feeling we get when we are trapped in a chair. I recommend it for anyone who has to spend long hours at a computer. One of the unanticipated benefits is that it helps avoid eye strain, as you can readily step back from a monitor and aren't forced to view it from the same distance all the time."
The evening of December 23rd found me out scouting for Christmas lights. Several days of rain had finally dissipated that afternoon, and it was the first opportunity I'd had this season to add to my portfolio. Coming down out of the hills above San Carlos, my attention was caught by pearly, low-hanging clouds over the Bay Area, and I decided a nighttime panorama had some artistic potential.
I set my Olympus OM-D on its tripod with the fabulous 45mm ƒ/1.8 M. Zuiko lens set to ƒ/4 and exposure times in the 2- to 3-second range at ISO 200. I made two sets of five exposures each, using the camera's built-in 2-second self timer to trigger the exposure. (I've found this so convenient a way to get vibration-free photographs that I don't think I've even touched the cable release I paid good money for in more than a year.)
The next day I pulled one of the photos up on my 27" iMac screen in
Adobe Bridge, and right away saw a problem (figure 1). The right side
appeared a lot less sharp than the left, and I wasn't even viewing at
100%. Well, Bridge can be a bit weird about rendering at non-1:1 sizes,
so I pulled up a full-size view, hoping that this was just rendering
cruft. Damn, there really was a problem. You can see this in figures 2
and 3, which are 100%-size crops from the right and left sides of figure
1. (I've posted full-frame, full resolution JPEGs of the photos used in this article at my website for any readers who wish to engage in further pixel-peeping.)
Fig. 1. This is the full frame, a "straight" JPEG rendered from the original camera RAW file.
Fig. 2. This is a section of the right side of figure 1. Click through to see it at 100% original scale.
Fig. 3. The left side of figure 1 is much sharper! (Click to see at 100% scale.)
Maybe it was really in the scene—turbulent air, or fog, or rain? Hoping against hope, I pulled up the photo (figure 4) that was to the right of figure 1. The right-hand part of the scene shown in figures 1 and 2 is centered in this frame and, as the 100% crop in figure 5 shows, atmospheric conditions are just fine. The details are sharp.
All 10 frames showed the same phenomenon; nicely sharp over 75% of the
width of the frame and lousy over the remaining 25%. Condensation on the
lens or the sensor, maybe? I don't recall any when I was photographing,
but, honestly, I wasn't looking.
Fig. 4. Same subject, a few seconds later, with the camera shifted so that what was on the right side of figure 1 is in the center-left of this photograph.
Fig. 5. A 100% enlargement from figure 4. The details that were fuzzy in figure 2 are sharp here, so it's not rain or fog in the air.
Fig. 6. Another full frame photograph, adjacent to figure 1. Details on the far right of this photograph are on the left side of figure 1.
How about camera shake or vibration, either innate or due to some
weirdness in the image stabilization system? Shutter recoil can cause
only one part of a frame to be blurred, if most of the shaking occurs
while most of the frame is blocked by the shutter blades. Seconds-long
exposures exclude that possibility—even if there were anomalous
vibration when only part of the sensor was exposed, that time span was
only milliseconds out of the total exposure. It wouldn't produce a
visible effect.
The photo in figure 6 provided another clue. There is a bit of detail in the lower right—some closer-by black tree branches silhouetted against a lit house and street lights—that's also present on the left in figure 1. Looking at a 100% crop from left side of figure 1 (figure 7) it looks to me like the more distant lights are sharper than the closer tree branches. In figure 8, cropped from the right side of figure 6, the closer tree branches appear much sharper to me, while the distant lights are fuzzier.
Fig. 7. A 100% section from the left side of figure 1 shows sharp distant lights and fuzzier closer tree branches.
Fig. 8. The same subject area, from the right side of figure 6, shows fuzzy distant lights and sharp closer tree branches.
If I'm reading the photos correctly (it's kind of hard to pick out these details), that's telling me the plane of sharpest focus is much closer to the camera on the right side of the photograph. Folks like Lloyd Chambers and Joe Holmes have reported this sort of thing in misaligned lenses. Me, I have trouble wrapping my head around the idea that an alignment error can cause only one side of the photograph to go out of focus, but I'm not going to argue with those guys.
It looks like something knocked my lens out of kilter and it needs to go
into the shop. Except for one puzzlement. None of the rest of the
photos I made that night or since have shown this problem. Figure 9 is
an example. It's not a perfect match (ƒ/5.6 instead of ƒ/4) but it's
close enough. The icicle lights on the eaves look equally good on both
sides of the photo (figures 10 and 11). The fine detail on the right
might be even slightly crisper than on the left, although that's surely
splitting hairs.
Fig. 9. A full-frame photograph made similarly to the earlier figures, but later in the evening. Tripod mount, several second exposure, but ƒ/5.6.
Fig 10. This and figure 11 show 100% sections from the left and right sides of figure 9 looking equally sharp.
Fig. 11.
I made some test photos last week, duplicating the exposure conditions in the problem photographs: Focused on a subject at infinity, made sets of exposures with the target point framed left, center, and right. I repeated this several times and pixel-peeped the results like mad. I can't see a clear pattern. I might be able to convince myself that the left side of the frame is a bit better, on average, than the right. Except when it's not. If that average difference is real, it's subtle. I'd never notice it in practice if I weren't looking terribly hard for it. It's not like the glaring, consistent problem in those panorama photos.
That's what puzzles me. Can a lens be knocked that far out of alignment and then just casually shake itself back into proper position? The camera did go back of the car and got driven around after I photographed the panorama, before I photographed any Christmas lights. Could the vibration have put everything back where it was supposed to be? It seems unlikely to me, but I'm no lens repair expert.
Obviously I haven't had time to send the lens off to a repair service to be checked out (I haven't even gotten a quote, yet). That might...or might not...give me a definitive answer. You know how that goes. In the meantime, what do you folks think? Have you ever seen anything like this, where a lens goes wonky for an entire series of photographs and then goes back to normal? It's sure a new one for me.
Ctein
Note: All the JPEGs were converted from RAW files using my default ACR settings. No massaging; this is what the camera gave me.
Ctein either presents or solves mysteries on Wednesdays on TOP.
Original contents copyright 2012 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.
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.) Featured Comments from:
Bruce Norikane: "I am really enjoying this thoughtful diagnostic discussion.
Although it seems an unlikely cause, have you ruled out the vertical
tilt of the camera?
The images with the problem appear to be tilted a bit down while the
Christmas light shots look like they are tilted up.
I would be quite surprised, if this could cause the problem, and you
would have probably spotted it in other shots with this camera and lens
combination."
Frank Grygier: "Cameras are now complex computer systems. The total automation of the
photographic process on a platform of this nature is bound to produce a
glitch now and then. As with any computer I would simply re-boot the
camera and see what happens."
Olivier: "Oh yes, it happened to me for most part of the summer of 2007 when I was
traveling in Austria with my D70 and one lens, the AFS 18–70mm (a fine
lens when it works). All of the sudden I got pictures very sharp on the
left side, and very out of focus on the right side. Since I had no
alternative I defined ths as my new style and actually started playing
with it. I was finally disappointed when all went back to normal after I
accidentally dropped the lens. It worked flawlessly until now...."
toto: "Perhaps the floating IBIS sensor got
skewed out of proper alignment temporarily that night. Rebooting the
camera (shutting it off and turning it back on) might have fixed the
problem."
John Camp: "I'm thinking you bent over the camera to look at something, and a little
stream of warm breath got on the lens, or got your warm hand close to
part of a cold lens, and got very very thin condensation on the lens.
I'm sure you've had that happen with your glasses, where you get a
little condensation that you can easily see through, but can be really
annoying."
Here's what I say: even if you don't shoot Pentax, never have and never will, you still gotta love those people.
What do they do when everybody else is going "full-frame"? They put out a medium-format digital system camera based on the old 645 with the Albada finder (the latter invented in-house, by the way, by Akihiro Arai of Asahi).
What do they do when everybody else is making jewel-like little mini digicams? They make a super-tiny miniature system camera with a small sensor and interchangeable lenses, some of them marked "Toy" and priced well under $100.
What do they do when everybody else is making mirrorless cameras? They commission an generalist industrial designer to make a styling exercise that takes regular old K-mount lenses.
"Think different"? The people at Pentax put Apple to shame on that score, if you ask me.
So what have they done now? There's this retro fad going around. Fuji introduces a little camera that looks like a commemorative of the Leica M3 with modern innards; Olympus makes its retro OM-D E-M5 look like a stylized miniature OM camera from the '80s, complete with a none-too-subtle faux prism beak on it. I like 'em both, but then I've owned and shot with both the originals. The new Pentax MX-1 (to longtime Pentaxians, those two little letters are freighted with meaning—and of course there's that font), a fixed-lens, small-sensor digicam meant to compete with the Panasonic LX7, Olympus XZ-2, and Canon S100, has brass top and bottom plates meant to brass out....
You've got to be kidding me.
Dpreview calls the move "strangely endearing." Got that right. Talk about ramping the retro up to 11. Is Pentax goofily daring us to use one digital camera for long enough to wear the black paint off, or shrewdly commenting that nobody will? Are they jumping in on the nostalgia fad, or making fun of it?
Maybe a little of all of the above. There are layers to this joke.
Now, you know there are going to be a lot of blowhards blowsing super-seriously on the tubes of the 'nets about how it should all be about the "imagery" (a term I can't stand) and how brassing doesn't matter to your "personal vision" (ditto), etc. To which I say: it sure doesn't. But lighten up. Unclench yer kisser and try having a little fun. The folks at Pentax obviously are.
Mike
Disclaimer: Pentax advertises on TOP.
Original contents copyright 2012 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. A book of interest today:
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.) Featured Comments from:
Timprov: "My S90 is 'aluminuming' out, or whatever. I have to admit, it would look better in brass."
Kevin Purcell: "In the Comments below, roddy k said, 'After Sony's 1" sensor success(?), the MX-1's tiny, probably recycled sensor is pretty much a complete fail.'
"The MX-1 sensor is (almost certainly) the new Sony IMX144CQJ 12Mpx BSI CMOS sensor introduced in October 2012. It' s also used in the Olympus ZX2, Nikon P7700 and the Samsung EX2F. Nothing old or recycled there.
"It's the successor to the very successful Sony ICX685CQZ CCD sensor I've mentioned before (a favorite sensor of mine in the Canon S90/95, G11/G12, Nikon P7000/P7100, Samsung EX1). It's the sensor that made RAW 'enthusiast compacts' respectable.
"You also see this sensor levels the IQ of this part of the market, so lens design, UI and body styling are all important differentiators for selling a given manufacturer's camera. The differentator is the cameras in this segment cost about half as much as a Sony RX100.
"Is Sony selling its type 1 inch sensor to anyone else? It's not in Sony Semiconductors catalog. I suspect Sony Imaging have exclusive right to it for a year or so (just like the Nikon 1 sensor from Aptina); then it may appear in other cameras (along with the Aptina type 1 inch sensor). Or perhaps it's such an advantage they'll keep it even longer. The business folks will decide which approach makes more money for Sony.
"Given the lead time in camera development, even if Sony is selling the type 1 inch sensor to other camera makers you won't see other similar cameras until late 2013 or early 2014. (Just in time to get PDAF on sensor too.)"
January is, of course, the traditional time of the year for introspection and making resolutions for various self-improvement instigations and abatements. January is also the typical time for photography enthusiasts to make any number of resolutions concerning equipment, projects, and development. You may recall that last year at this time I wrote an essay titled "Ah, January!"** offering thoughts and suggestions towards such ends.
This year I want to offer a slightly different suggestion. Have you ever taken one giant step back to just ask yourself why you photograph at all?
Vocational photographers are, of course, exempted from such interrogation. And certainly one's motives for snapping family, friends, and special life events (travel, graduation, release from prison, etc.) are universally self-evident.
But why do you photograph beyond those categories? What are you getting from it? What do you strive to achieve with your camera? What role does enjoyment of new equipment really play in your photographic activities? What do you actually do with all your photos? Who do you consider the audience for your photographs to be? Is that the audience you want? Do you model yourself against particular photographers and/or types of photography?
Our answers to such questions can be more than idle musings. They can, indeed they should, help crystallize some of our photographic intentions for the coming year. But even if you can't mine any answer more profound than "'Cuz it's fun to do!" (which is perfectly legitimate), I think it's still worth earnestly visiting the questions at least once each year. One year you just might be inspired to answer differently.
Or you might even decide that photography is no longer something you want to directly pursue. For example, I know more than a few people who were once avid and in some cases rather renowned photographers, but at some point decided that appreciating, collecting, and/or teaching photography offered them more personal fulfillment than actually practicing it.
I also know several folks who used the advent of digital photography to reboot their practice by retracting and simplifying their gear spheres. They divested themselves of all their film-era equipment and now use only pocketable carry-anywhere cameras, mostly of the fixed-lens design. To a person they each remark that this change has had a powerfully clarifying effect on their work and brought them much more enjoyment.
Whyever, whatever, and however you photograph this year here's wishing my fellow TOP readers a healthy, peaceful and interesting 2013!
* This title is not to be confused with Robert Adams's excellent collection of essays published in 2005 by Aperture under the title Why People Photograph. Highly recommended reading, but not directly related.
** You may recall the dreamy little twilight winter scene, below, that I included with that piece:
This is how that same location appears today, exactly one year later:
Such documentary presentations are something that photography is uniquely qualified to produce, and would certainly qualify as an answer to the title question!
Original contents copyright 2012 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.
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.) Featured Comments from:
Ranjit Grover: "I guess it is bit like climbing the mountains. Why should any one climb a mountain? It is a compulsive behavior. So is photography. Many photographers do not even care to show their work to others. The mere act of getting the picture is what gives them the satisfaction. Documentation is only part of the story. For whom is the documentation done? For the present generation or the coming generations? Would they care? Who is interested in the photo of my aged neighbor? Obviously there would be no direct, clear cut, unambiguous answer for that age old question 'Why do we shoot pictures?' It is a profoundly philosophical question that will not get an answer for a very, very long time."
Animesh Ray: "Why do I photograph? I wanted to be a painter very early in life but soon found out that I lack both the ability and the talent. Instead, I found that I was intuitive with the camera. Ever since it has been the easier way of giving vent to a creative urge. Now it appears that I might indeed leave one or two prints on the wall that my descendants could mull over after I am gone. That is the driver."
Roger Overall: "You ask great questions, Ken, but I'm so troubled by your two photographs at the end of the post, I can't concentrate hard enough to answer them. My mind is hungry for a third photograph next year of the site. I want a happy ending to the story you're telling with the two photographs so far. I need a conclusion in part three that eases my mind and shows that all is well with the park. I hope to see that it is improved, rather than destroyed. Will you show us the ending in a third picture?"
icexe: "Years ago I used to care so much about the art, about making that perfectly exposed, perfectly composed, mind-blowing image. But with the advent of digital photography and the Internet, it seems no matter how great an image I made, hundreds of other people out there already did it, and did it far better than I did.
"I often felt like I was spending thousands of dollars on equipment just to make 'me too' derivative photos that really no one but a few facebook friends might spend more a few seconds looking at. I entered a few photo contests, only to feel even less capable when my 'best' attempts wouldn't even make it past the middle of the pack at best. Finally, I said to myself, 'Really, who was I trying to impress anyway?'
"So recently my photos have become far more personal; I take photos for me, to capture moments that mean something to me. I've mostly dumped the big, heavy, expensive gear for a simpler MFT setup with a fixed lens.
"I don't care as much now about 'perfection,' I care much more about emotion. I know the stories of all the images I frame on my wall, they may seem uninteresting to most people, but to me they are a reminder of snippets from my life. Ultimately, these are the photos worth taking."
Mark: "Well, it's a given I'm never a featured comment, but that doesn't stop me from offering my two cents. Why do I photograph? All I need do is look at the walls in my home all adorned with my photos over the years, from when my kids were babies to now, when the oldest is 26 and the youngest 21. The memories, the smiles, the teardrops, are all the proof positive I need that I took up the right hobby. I'll practice it until my last breath."
Mike replies: Best comment so far. :-)
bertram eiche: "I take photos because it satisfies me. I like to enhance my memories with beauty. I'm far beyond the 10,000 hours rule. Photography became just a part of me. I'm never without a camera. Just love it."
Steve Caddy: "The answer for me came before I started actively asking the question. I'd already half decided to give the hobby away in favor of devoting time to focus on other things; family, work, cycling...that kind of thing. My wife was pregnant and I was going to have less time to devote to my already too numerous (and too consuming) interests.
"My wife doesn't care much for 'photography.' She tends to bemoan anything larger than pocketable or more expensive than a couple of hundred dollars and sees pictures as 'photo of girl', 'photo of lamp-post' regardless of light, composition, moment or metaphor. When our son was unexpectedly born at 23 weeks gestation she said to me: 'Go home and get a camera. I want you to take pictures.'
"I went home and got a Mamiya 645, an M6, and an old DSLR. We took a lot of pictures of each other, our lifeless boy, the room, the passing light as the outside world kept going; the thick weight of emptiness that descends over you at such times.
"In the weeks after we came home from the hospital, going through the images, there were three 6x4.5 black and whites of my wife holding our tiny, tiny son and, seeing them, I started to understand what we had been through.
"We wouldn't have had that if I didn't make those pictures, and the ones from the other cameras weren't the same. Somehow in the sorrow, the big, slow, deliberate, heavy one, with the controls that are workable through tear-filled eyes and mechanical noises as real and physical as ourselves was the one that made images that would teach me something about myself, my wife, the strength of our marriage and the meaning of our children.
"When I saw those photos, that's when I knew not to stop making pictures. Even if nobody but we see them, they help us know the world and ourselves."
re·vokeverb \ri-ˈvōk\
transitive verb
1: to annul by recalling or taking back (revoke a will). 2: to bring or call back.
-
"Change of mind is not inconsistency."
—Cicero
Okay, I know this is very eleventh hour (or twelfth—just past midnight, analogously speaking). I know I just said that our Book of the Year for 2012 was the 75th Anniversary Edition of American Photographs by Walker Evans, a current reprint of an important historical book. I even said it was "settled."
Then Here Far Away arrived. And changed my mind.
Pentti Sammallahti was born in Helsinki, Finland, in 1950. He began to photograph at the age of 11, and by age 21 had begun to exhibit. He taught at the University of Art and Design in Helsinki for 17 years, until, in 1991, he was awarded a 15-year grant from the Finnish government—an unusually long endowment and one that isn't given any more. Over a fifty-year career he has photographed in most parts of the world outside of the Americas, mainly Scandinavia and across Russia, the Far East, the subcontinent, and Europe. He is a master craftsman with a deep understanding of printing methods, known for reinvigorating the portfolio form; he naturally works in the form of books. He has published 13 books and portfolios since 1979, which have won many awards.
Here Far Away, published in 2012 by Dewi Lewis Publishing in England, is his first retrospective, representing the best of nearly half a century's work. Reasonably sized and beautifully laid out, it's a substantial 256 pages long, and the reproductions, which the publisher calls "quadratones," are gorgeous. The pictures, mostly rural, enigmatic, and mysterious, are almost pictorialist, painterly and composed. Many of the pictures show the presence of beasts, mostly dogs and birds, but including many other kinds as well—even people, who are often seen as another sort of animal within landscapes or city scenes. Many of the photographs are almost...mystical, if I may, with a sense of lyrical timelessness despite being (for all I can tell, at least) "straight" photography.
Talk about a guilty pleasure. I don't know what blows me away more—the book, or the career. Sammallahti's low profile in the U.S. has blessedly meant that he's mostly new to me (I have a beautiful Nazraeli Press volume of his rural panoramic photographs that is now hard to get, but that's it), which means that most of this work is new to me—which is such a treat for me.
Friends, get this book. That's all I can say. This is just what it's all for. I had some technical problems with the book post the other day and wasn't actually able to finish it—I will add some more titles soon. But I think it's fair to say that even with some strong competition from Vivian Maier and Ray K. Metzker and old Walker, this has gotta be the pinnacle of 2012's books of the ones I've seen. It's certainly one nobody will regret having.
Here's the U.S. link
and here's the one for the U.K.
You can find links to Amazon in Canada and Germany, and to the Book Depository, which ships internationally, here.
I have a feeling this book is in relatively short supply; it's certainly international in appeal, and the quality of the printing makes me guess they're not just able to churn 'em out. As I write this, Amazon in the U.S. has only 10 copies and Amazon U.K. only six. I had trouble getting my copy—I ordered it several times from two different places before it worked. My copy actually arrived slightly damaged, but no way am I risking sending it back. This gets a place of honor on my bookshelves, and, if you'll forgive me for changing my mind at such a late hour, this has got to be the Book of the Year for 2012.
[UPDATE: Sold
out at Amazon.com. They're not accepting orders, either. I'll keep an
eye on this in coming weeks and alert people (at least by
tweet—@TheOnlinePhotog) when/if they're back in stock. —Mike]
[UPDATE #2, 1/7/13: When
I recommended this book it cost about $48 new. I realize the prices for
the few copies on Amazon Marketplace are astronomically high. I'll contact the publisher and find out what the
story is likely to be; I'm
assuming the supply of normally-priced books will be replenished
eventually.
I just don't want you to think I'm suggesting you spend $425 for a book! —Mike]
Almost no matter what kind of photographer you are and what kinds of photography you like, I think you're gonna love this.
Mike
Original contents copyright 2012 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.
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.) Featured Comments from:
Mikko Kalavainen: "Great. Now you've spilt (spilled?) the beans about Pentti all over the Internet. Thanks a bunch.
"Just kidding, it's always a thrill to see The Favourite Obscure
Photographer (choose your own) featured somewhere.
I've got two prints from him on my wall, from the 'Pieniä Eläimiä' (Small
animals) series. Which are lovely.
That book is cheaper over there though, when compared to Finland. Which
is no big surprise. Another coin for your coffer from Amazon then. Thank
you!"
Mike Chisholm: "Mike,
100% agreement, and then some. I bought the German edition because I
couldn't wait for the English one.
I have to say my suspicion is that Sammallahti is either a dog-whisperer
or maintains a trained pack. Surely nobody can get that lucky so often
with so many characterful mutts, can they? Is witchcraft legal in
Finland?
Miraculous, moving and at times laugh-out-loud perfect work."
GuyB (partial comment): "What I love is the pagan animism, without sentimentality or anthropomorphism."
Stan B. (partial comment): "A 15 year grant—Finland (and the world) definitely got its money's worth!"
olli: "Delighted to see your recommendation. He featured in a recent post on The Guardian website and I ordered my copy from The Book Depository shortly after. It arrived a couple of days ago and I've been staring in awe ever since. It's a beautifully produced book and the quality of the printing of the images is stunning."
Jim Couch: "No you may not change your mind! I already purchased the Walker Evans book I am pleased to say. I like having the 'Book of the Year' for 2012! Now I have to go and purchase another book? One that may even be sold out! So unfair! :-) Too many books, so little money (and bookshelf space!)"
Colin Dixon: "Last year there was an exhibition of his work, and a talk by the
artist, at the Side Gallery in Newcastle upon Tyne in northeast England.
The book is beautiful but his prints were stunning. A mix of inkjet for the the larger panoramics and silver
gelatin. On his ability as a
'dog whisperer,' he said that when he travels he likes to eat tinned
sardines, and he saves the fishy olive oil in a small bottle, and when
dogs are needed he sprinkles a few drops, and usually dogs start coming
around in a few minutes."
Graham Dew: "One can despair at what passes as 'quality' photography these days, and then comes along a book like this that re-affirms your love of the medium. I have a copy as a Christmas present, and it is absolutely beautiful. The images are so elegant, the production first rate and the size perfect. Yes, Mike, you can change your mind!"
Michael Hultström: "In Norway they don't use a translation of changing or revoking one's opinion. They have the wonderful word 'ombestemme.' I think it is used in Denmark as well. What it means, literally, is re-decide. I love it because it doesn't give the image of indecisiveness or a fickle, easily-swayed opinion. It is an active considered decision. It just isn't the same decision as you came to a while ago."
Mike replies: I like it! Funny how various languages have perfect words other languages lack.
The fate of beautiful new technologies: an autochrome of a gramophone.
I trust no one missed my main point in the previous post: 2012 was a very good year for cameras. Interesting ones, useful ones, good ones. It was a year of just the sort of creativity in the cameramaking universe that five years ago I was bemoaning the absence of. And that despite setbacks economic, environmental, and corporate. So: bravo to the cameramakers!
I've always thought that the inevitable evolution of digital has to be a layered sensor like the Foveon, and I still feel that one day, the Bayer array will be as antiquated as a top hat. (Or, more on point, as Lumière Autochromes. Or even more on point, as tricolor cameras.) When that happens, all of this year's cameras will be lost in the mists of history, along with Exaktas, Mirandas, and Niccas.
But then, that's what I was saying eight years ago, and I've been wrong about it so far.
For the moment—for our times—2012 was a very good year for cameras.
Mike
Original contents copyright 2012 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.
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.) Featured Comments from:
Manuel: "Cameras are indeed much more interesting now, and both Panasonic and Olympus deserve the credits for having started the ball rolling when they introduced Micro 4/3. Crucially, Olympus sent the message that it was OK to make beautiful cameras again when they launched the E-P1. If it weren't for this brilliant little machine, mirrorless cameras would all probably look like DSLRs (like the Panasonic G1/GH1) or point-and-shoots on steroids like the insipid Canon EOS M.
"This is, in my humble opinion, the reason cameras have become so much more interesting than what we had five or so years ago. The new designs brought back pride in ownership, something that got lost in the way when all camera makers started making ergonomically oriented bodies. (I wouldn't go so far as to call them 'melted soapbars,' as some do.) Now we can have cameras that are a delight to behold, the Fujis being currently the best example of the kind.
"Re the Foveon sensor, I believe it nods to the future. I may be wrong, but it is so clever and effective (at least from what I see on the 'net) that most sensor makers will adopt this technology sooner or later. It's all up to Sony...."
Andre: "Well, the interwebs claim Sony has filed a patent for a layered sensor and Michael Reichmann claims that a major manufacturer will introduce a sensor that bypasses the Foveon patents within 18 months. Assuming this comes to pass, and the manufacturer provides enough information that the major RAW software makers can support it, the Bayer array sensor might be consigned to being a transitional stage in sensor development."
Mike replies: Really? I hate to admit ignorance (never let 'em see you sweat, etc.), but I did not know that. In any event, I've been predicting this since 2002, so my prediction is ongoing...and not based on any actual information. [g]
Huw Morgan: "I went back in time via the Interwebby and found your landmark article in Luminous-Landscape on the DMD (Decisive Moment Digital) camera. At that point in time, a DMD seemed like a distant vision of the future, but we are now suddenly surrounded by 'em. Take your pick: Olympus OM-D, Sony Nex-7 and Nex-6, Fuji X-e1, Canon M, Nikon 1, etc. etc. All fulfil the purpose of a DMD quite handily. All focus quickly, have access to fast primes and have sensors that range from perfectly adequate to verging on humongous. You can find one that fits every hand, from the smallest to the largest. Plus, we've made excellent headway with electronic viewfinders that make it possible to pre-chimp our photos. I like pre-chimping! Aren't we all so lucky to have our fine Japanese and Korean friends making our wishes come true?"
XK50: "Don't you love that Autochrome palette? One for DxO Optics' Filmpack!"
"Best of" awards have always annoyed me because of a principle I'm highly aware of, yet which doesn't, to my knowledge, have a name. Namely: the closer to equal two things are, the less important it should be to rank them, but the more important it seems to be to humans to do so. So if two DACs (digital to analogue converters) are almost indistinguishable from each other, you won't see people saying "ah, just get one or the other, it doesn't matter." More likely, you'll see people arguing strenuously over why one is great and the other is crap. If two Olympic skaters skate hell bent for leather for three minutes and one of them crosses the finish line .02 seconds sooner, that one gets a "gold" medal and the other one gets a "silver" medal, even though it might have come down to where their feet were in their motions at just the critical moment. Whereas to me, what an .02 second difference means is that each of them is just as good as the other. The difference is simply below the threshhold of significance.
Basketball is completely annoying in this respect. Extremely close basketball games are decided by such contingent and capricious factors that some of them might as well be decided by a coin toss.
I concede that the "rankers" can have their way with objectively quantifiable races. One skater does cross the finish like "ahead" of the other, even if fractionally, so, fine, that person "wins." Have it your way, stupid humans. Whatever.
But where our primate ranking obsession becomes really silly is in subjective awards and contests. It's just not meaningful to have a photo contest, say, where there are 15,000 entries and one picture is called "the grand prize winner" and another is called "the runner up." Things like that are so utterly arbitrary.
Take American football right now, for instance. This year, they (and I don't even know who "they" are, I confess) will give out an award for "Rookie of the Year." This year there are at least five rookies who could have won this award in any other year, but, especially, there are three quarterbacks who have done utterly remarkable things—most notably Robert Griffin III at Washington and Russell Wilson at Seattle. Why is necessary to call one of them Rookie of the Year and the other one chopped liver? It's ridiculous. I think they ought to give Rookie of the Year to as many people as truly deserve it. One, two, three, four, five, whatever.
This is inhuman. Literally, in that it's not how primates tend to think and act. It's not what satisfies us. We're driven by competition. We want a winner. And losers.
And then, apparently some sportswriters think it's important to determine which player should be annointed "Comeback Player of the Year." (Again, my ignorance: I have no idea if that's actually an official award or not. School me, please.) Should it be Adrian Peterson, running back at Minnesota, who came back from a full ACL tear, an injury that causes some running backs to retire, yet became only the seventh back in NFL history to rush for more than 2,000 yards in a season, and came within nine measley yards (the running back equivalent of .02 seconds) of the all-time running record? My doctor brother says some people would not even be walking again one year after a full ACL tear, "much less acting like Walter Payton." Or should it be Peyton Manning, who sat out all of last season while undergoing either three or four operations on his neck (different sources give different numbers), and who was given the gold watch and the back side of the door in no uncertain terms by Indianapolis, the organization where he'd spent his whole career—and who then signed with the Denver Broncos and had his second-best season ever as a quarterback, leading the team to a 13-3 record, including a #1 seed in the playoffs and an 11-game winning streak that's still going?
Tell me, how in the hell are either of those two players not the Comeback Player of the Year? They're two of the greatest comeback stories in the history of the NFL, is what they are.
Okay, too much preamble. Sorry. Let's review:
Sony RX100—Brought the new 1" sensor size (13.2x8.8mm) to a very small, easy-to-use all-in-one fixed-lens compact with particular success, due in no small part to a spectacular sensor that takes gorgeous pictures.
Olympus OM-D E-M5—First pro-level Micro 4/3 camera, again with particularly wonderful image quality, distinctive if controversial retro styling, and a host of leading edge (for Micro 4/3) features, including particularly successful implementation of IBIS. All in a small, portable, yet easily handle-able package.
Nikon D800/E—With 36 MP, first "full frame" (i.e., 24x36mm) sensor camera to make true inroads into the territory formerly dominated by medium-format backs. With—yes—extraordinary image quality.
Fujifilm X-Pro1—Satisfying market requests for an "interchangeable-lens X100" with remarkable alacrity, Fuji creates the first truly viable competitor to the Leica M as a digital rangefinder-style camera. Includes a marvelously innovative viewfinder and, no surprise, wonderful image quality that has users very pleased.
Each one has weaknesses. That's because they're all cameras. With literally tens of thousands of attempts since 1839, there have been no perfect cameras so far in history.
And I'm supposed to pick a winner. Okay.
Ta-da!
Drum roll, please: Russell Wilson and Adrian Peterson.
Just kidding.
No, my pick for Camera of the Year 2012 has to be the Olympus OM-D E-M5. I gave most of my reasons for liking it in a previous post. I'm currently more enamored of the D800, and I actually think the best all-around camera that came out this year might have been the Canon 5D Mark III, even though it didn't make the top four because it doesn't break any new ground, and because Canon chose moderate, balanced features instead of extreme ones. (I'm going to rent one so that I can write about it. I enjoyed that when I did it with the D800E, although the exercise ended up being very expensive for me.)
But when it comes right down to it, the best pictures I took this year were mostly with the OM-D. The image quality of which this camera is capable makes it worthwhile putting up with its almost perversely overcomplicated controls. It's also the Comeback Camera of the Year, because of Olympus's very serious and high profile troubles.
I love Micro 4/3 because I love lenses, and there are just more tasty lenses that you can stick on a Micro 4/3 camera than any other kind. And the OM-D E-M5 is the true coming of age of the whole Micro 4/3 category.
It's the Camera of the Year of 2012 for me.
Mike
P.S. Oh, and by the way: I will absolutely be glued to my TV this weekend when Washington plays Seattle. I'm a primate too, after all.
Original contents copyright 2012 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.
(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.) Featured Comments from:
Stephen Gillette: "When I purchased an OM-D some months back, I immediately realized something was missing. Buyer's remorse. As the months have passed, I have not experienced a minute of it.
"Listen: I have owned many cameras over a period exceeding fifty years. I still own too many cameras. My favorites have been either small gems (starting with the Rollie 35) or compact but fuller-featured SLR's (starting with the Pentax ME).
"I had acquired both a NEX-platform camera and an MFT (Panasonic) before Oympus birthed the OM-D. With the acquisition of the OM-D, my camera lust is, for the first time, quelled.
"Peace in the valley. Ah....
"Now, Mike also picked up the OM-D, but without quite the 'Eureka! I have found it!' experience that I had. He did, after all, go on to invest in that big (and beautiful) Nikon full-framer. But then, Mike is younger and thus more impetuous than I. Even so, it seems that given the proper amount of New Year's introspection, he concedes the laurel wreath to the little camera that could. Hear hear!!"
jim r: "Again no love for the K-01 :^) Just think of it as a fully manual camera that can shoot in the dark and costs $320; that's amazing. In the last two months since the price drop it's a clear Comeback contestant, at least for those imagers who think art comes from somewhere other then the external appearance of a camera. Oh well—for the price maybe I'll take two."
Mike replies: No love for the K-01? That's not quite true. My brother Scott wanted me to recommend a good digital camera (his first), and I bought him...yes...this Pentax K-01.
Ben: "Because you picked my camera I can put away my knives and comment on what an eminently sensible person you are to have arrived at the only possible answer. There is absolutely no need for vicious character attacks and inflammatory arguments as long as everyone agrees with me. Kidding aside, I really wish I could try out the D800E and the 5D Mark III just for kicks (no camera rental services here in Costa Rica that I'm aware of). But I know from experience that if I were to buy them they would end up left at home after the initial purchase euphoria had worn off. Then I'd be back to carrying around my EM-5."
Mike replies: Er...well...ahem...I...uh...[tugging at collar, gulping nervously].
Michael Barkowski: "Belatedly, I nominate the 808 Pureview. Not too many controls, great image quality for the size. Yet once again I feel that Canon deserves to win all the awards, for giving sensationalism the finger and just making better cameras."