Note: Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. More... Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.
Featured Comment by Judith Wallerius: "In the original blog entry on John Moore's moving photograph of Mary McHugh is a now-defunct link to the article Moore wrote on the Getty blog about the day he took the picture. You can now find it here."
Posted on 30th May 2010 by Michael Johnston in Photography
We get traffic: On Sunday (it's still Sunday as I write this), TOP got 44,000+ visitors, which is our second-best traffic day in the past three months, and (I didn't actually check) almost certainly our best Sunday ever. And that's without a new post for Sunday—the excess is viral attention being paid to the "Letter for George" post, news of which appears to be wending its way through the tubes of the internets.
Unfortunately, a few people who aren't regular readers aren't grokking it. I've been called some names by people who don't come around here much. Occupational hazard, I guess. But 98% of readers seemed to understand.
We eat Himalayan: I'm happy to report that I got to eat lunch with my old friend, good friend, and very smart friend Ctein last Friday. He was in Madison for "WisCon," which sounds like Wisconsin without the sin but is actually a major feminist-themed science-fiction convention. We went out for Himalayan food at a Nepalese restaurant (a first for me—it was very good) with Ctein's friend Peggy, a mathematician and vocal artist. Believe it or not, it's been 13 years since Ctein and I have seen each other in person, so it was really a treat. Ctein is surely one of this particular galaxy's most interesting people.
We hit you up: It's that time of the month again. As I've mentioned before, hopefully not more than once a month, all this stuff doesn't write itself! If you want to help out, especially if you never have before, you can support TOP in one of three ways: make a direct donation, make a recurring donation—or just buy something for yourself from Amazon or B&H Photo using our links, which can always be found in the right-hand sidebar.
When you buy yourself something through our links, those two affiliates pay us a small commission out of their profits. You don't pay any more for your purchase, but everything you buy earns money for TOP, as long as you start from here when you actually make the purchase. (Items already in your Shopping Cart aren't counted—even if you linked from here when you put them in there.)
Of course, it would be nice if you bought yourself one of these (seriously, who buys those?), but, believe it or not, even buying something small helps out: the percentage we get for everything goes up as the item count goes up. A few notable anomalies on Amazon: we get a straight $25 for any computer purchase, no matter how large; MP3 songs do count; but Kindle books do not. Our highest commission, though—a whopping 10%—is on Kindle readers.
We find out fascinating facts about you: I have no idea how they know stuff like this, but at my friend Stephen Gandy's recommendation I went to one of those analytics sites today, and they say that, relative to the entire Universe of web users, TOP readers tend to be: 35 and older, male (that's photography in general—I believe TOP has more female readers than most photography sites), and—our strongest index—we have far more readers with post-graduate degrees than is average on the web.
We get the best comments: If you missed Jillian's poignant "Featured Comment" to the "P.S., but not to 'George'" post, be sure to go read it. I found it very touching, though tragic. What a thoughtful parting gift from her "camera hobbyist" husband, in several different ways.
Note: Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. More... Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.
Featured Comment by Tom Brenholts: "Regarding buying at B&H or Amazon through TOP; here's an easy way to do it without having to think. Enter the sites through TOP, then bookmark them. After that, any time you go to B&H or Amazon the link comes up as having entered through TOP. Here is what my browser shows: http://www.amazon.com/?tag=theonlinephot-20 Then, every time you buy anything from Amazon, the credit goes here. No fuss, no muss, no brain strain. Buy a book, credit here. Buy a gas grill, credit here. Buy the three howling wolves shirt, credit here. Buy a 7D (I did), credit here."
Mike replies:Thanks for that Tom. That does indeed work for Amazon, but I'm told it does not work for B&H Photo. With B&H, it's best to come here and click on the advertisement. That does the trick.
Posted on 29th May 2010 by Michael Johnston in Photography
Dennis Hopper with his 2009 book of his photographs. Photo courtesy Taschen
Dennis Hopper died today at his home in Venice, California, at the age of 74.
The actor was for many years also a prolific photographer. In the 1960s, when he believed he wasn't going to get future work from movie studios because of his wild-man reputation, he considered becoming a career photographer; he'd received his first camera as a gift from Brooke Hayward, his first wife (who also helped resuscitate his acting career), and had taken to it readily. Most of his better known photographic output coincided with the decade of the 1960s. "I was a compulsive shooter
back then," he told Christopher Goodwin. "I was very shy, and it was a lot easier for me to
communicate if I had a camera between me and other people."
The movie "Easy Rider," which Hopper directed and co-wrote, and in which he co-starred, took in $50 million in 1969, when a typical movie ticket cost $1.25.
Note: Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. More... Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.
Posted on 29th May 2010 by Michael Johnston in Photography
The final hammer has just fallen at the 17th WestLicht Photographica Auction in Vienna, Austria, and there's a new "World's Most Expensive Camera"—an 1839 Daguerreotype Giroux (above) was sold for €732,000, premiums included (approximately $899,000 and £622,000 at today's exchange rates). It is the most ever paid for a camera. (Alphonse Giroux was the brother-in-law of Louis Jacques Mandé Daguerre, inventor of the Daguerreotype—and generally credited as the primary inventor of photography, although the full story is more interesting. Note Daguerre's signature on the camera's label—click on the image to see it larger.) WestLicht expert Michel Auer stated that all other Giroux cameras are in public museums.
Several rare Leicas also achieved good prices at the sale, including #15 of the "0 Series" M3 prototypes—a rare perfect survivor from among 65 M3 prototypes produced, many of which no longer exist—which sold for €130,000 ($160,000, £110,000) exclusive of premiums. (With the lens I just wrote about the other day.)
Note: Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. More... Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.
The Great British Photograph welcomes your favourite photographs taken in any county in England, Scotland, Northern Ireland or Wales. You will have the chance to have your photographs appear in one of the county, regional or city magazines published by Archant Life and in Photography Monthly magazine.
The categories are the names of the counties themselves.
Prizes:
The overall winner of the Great British Photograph 2010 competition will win £5000.
You can enter photographs you have taken of landscapes, people, events, objects or buildings, in fact, anything or anybody that you feel sums up the spirit of a particular county at any time of the year. You can also enter as many images as you like by simply uploading them below. Each county and the Greater London area will have an overall winning image and commended images chosen by Photography Monthly editor Grant Scott and the editor of the appropriate Archant Life magazine. The winning images from each area will then go forward to a national final to be judged by a panel of professional judges to decide the overall winning photograph — the Great British Photograph.
Posted on 29th May 2010 by Michael Johnston in Photography
Our friend (and frequent TOP contributor) Gordon Lewis, of Shutterfinger fame, has authored, for Canon, a set of carry-along quick reference guides for your camera bag. Gordon refers to them as "cheatsheets" in his write-up about the project at Shutterfinger; Canon calls them "QuickGuides." They're free for download from the Canon Learning Center, and they're formatted so you can print them out, fold them up, and take them with you. If you shoot Canon, check 'em out.
Note: Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. More... Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.
Since the advent of digital photography and digital editing software, it has become far too easy for photographers to take really badly exposed images and correct them in post processing. While the end result yields a better image than what was captured, sadly this is NOT really photography, yet as we progress more into the digital age, such image manipulations are being passed off as professional photography and even worse as “fine art”.
In this tutorial I will show you examples of what I mean and how I can take what I consider a really shoddy image (yes even pro’s take shit shots from time to time) and how I can turn that image into a much better looking image, but is it photography? Personally I say not really as what I am about to show you crosses the line from photography into the world of digital manipulation and the resulting image is a digital image but I personally don’t consider it to be an actual true photograph any longer.
We start out with our RAW image straight from the camera. The image was captured against the setting sun which causes the camera to hit all sorts of obstacles when trying to expose this scene. We don’t want to lose the lovely orange glow of the sky and as a result we capture that but all the shadow areas are completely blacked out. The starting image below shows the resulting situation many a photographer is faced with. We captured that lovely glow of the sky but there is no detail in the shadow or midtone areas, at least that’s what we think.
Our starting RAW image, unedited straight out of the camera. This is how the camera interpreted the exposure and had you been shooting with film this is pretty much what you would be stuck with.
So now how do we go ahead and rescue this photograph? First of all I open this RAW image in my favourite RAW processing application and the manipulation begins. I first introduce “Fill Light” so I crank that slider from 0 to about 85. I then play with the tone curve profile of the image (highlights, lights, shadows and darks). I drag my shadow slider up to about +45, I’ll take the Darks slider to +25, I’ll take the Lights slider to -25 and finally I’ll push the Highlights slider to +10. I am now left with the following image but I’m not quite done yet. Amazing to see how much information the camera really captured in the shadow but the manipulations carried out thus far already exceed the actual exposure.
We've done some minor adjustments in our RAW editing programme, manipulating the shadow and midtone areas. Suddenly we start to see something peering out of what was previously total darkness.
Okay so things are looking a little better now and as it stands above is a marked improvement from the original but I’m now going to push it even more. I should stop with the changes I made above which to me look better than what I am about to do but now I’m going to go to insane extremes to further illustrate the kind of work I am seeing in many places on the web. Messing with all those sliders has revealed detail in what was previously just black but by doing these adjustments I’ve introduced a lot of noise and artifacts into the image. Okay so I’ll just do some noise removal … easy peasy. I now take my image into my image editing software and after doing some noise removal I also want to bring a little more detail into the image. So after I’ve done my noise removal I am going to mess some more with the highlights, shadows and midtones and I’ll do this in my image editing program by doing some manipulation on highlights, shadows and midtones contrasts, I call this “raping the shadows”. Each image editing programme has the above adjustments, some programmes call them by sligthly different names. Okay so I messed around for less than a minute and now I have the following image.
Okay so after some more manipulation of the image it's actually starting to look like something but we can still play with this some more.
Now I want to adjust the colours a little and make it look even “better” so I now mess some more with my contrasts, brightness, levels, curves and I add some more warmth using a photo warming filter and at the same time I want to try and get the sky closer to the original colour captured. Each time I’m doing changes I’m introducing noise and artifacts into the image but I can fix that in my final steps with some more noise removal. My final image which I “could” spend another hour messing with would look a whole lot better, in fact I could make make it look much much better but for the point of this tutorial I’ll stop processing now to give you an indication of what can be done with some very quick manipulation and how a really poorly exposed photograph has been turned into something better or perhaps worse looking.
The once ugly duckling now starts to actually look like something (or does it), but is it still a photograph?
To the untrained eye, a quick glance and people will saw “ooh it looks nice” but the image is filled with imperfections now, because I pushed it past certain limits I have introduced many things that need to be fixed now. However, because I am displaying these images to you on the web at a mere 400 pixels in size it’s even easier for me to hide the MANY imperfections that have been introduced as a result of the manipulation I have done, this is another factor that bad photographers rely on, the fact that at a small resolution on the web they can make a poor image actually look ok. I’ve however over exaggerated the imperfections in these examples.
I know if I spent another hour working on this image I could make it absolutely perfect and you would hardly notice a single imperfection but …. you know what …. I’m going no further with it, this was merely to demonstrate something and personally an image like this will never make it into any of my collections nor will I even try to pass it off as a photograph and least of all as fine art. I simply keep images like to demonstrate things like this and normally anything that came out like this would end up deleted on the spot. I will rather re-shoot the scene using the proper methods to capture the scene correctly in a single frame that requires only very slight corrections which are considered acceptable.
Now when I say “acceptable” what do I mean? Well if I shoot the scene correctly using filters to hold back the exposure on the sky while getting my foreground exposed, I can do this in a single frame, I can do very minor RAW adjustments which do not involve dragging any slider more than 5-10 steps from its original setting and do not involve manipulating the image beyond what you can actually see straight out of camera. I will be able to enter the image in any leading competition (not this image of course) and when my original RAW image is requested for authentication I will not feel any worry or resistance sending the original to the judges. This is the big difference between photography and digital imaging. What I have produced above is a digital image and quite honestly no longer a photograph. I would not feel comfortable nor would I dare entering it into a competition (it’s a crap shot for a starter) nor would I try to pass it off or sell it or anything produced in a similar fashion to somebody as photography or fine art. Some competitions allow digitally manipulated images but they are few and far between.
Sadly though I see more and more photographers starting as beginners who learn to digitally rescue their bad photos and within a year they are calling themselves professionals and actually marketing and selling images produced using similar techniques as above. What’s even more worrying is that these photographers actually believe they are really good and instead of learning to take better photos they rely on snapping anything knowing they can fix it later. It’s a really bad approach to photography and does not further the art of photography and instead in my personal opinion it hurts the artform immensely. By all means there is a time and place for slightly enhancing shadow areas in an image but doing such agressive manipulations as above is not “slight” by any means.
Photography forums all over the place are filled with photographers preaching and teaching these techniques and misleading other beginners into following such methods, all this does is produce many more bad photographers who again in a very short time are trying to market and sell this nonsense as photographic art. Too many of these “photographers” have their friends, family and facebook fans telling them how wonderful their photographs are but they are also not being told the whole story of how the person “created” the image and to the untrained eyes it looks perfect but it’s so easy to spot manipulated images and the more you know about photography the easier you will spot manipulated imagery. Unfortunately once these photographers get caught in this trap of digital manipulation they seem to know it all and will simply not take criticism from a professional photographer but would rather remain blinded by the “wow” and “awesome” comments they receive from their friends and fans and as a result they will never really progress.
While they may remain blinded by the truth, I say to such photographers please don’t think that it is not possible to spot these manipulations from a mile away, it’s damn easy to spot a) when you actually know a lot about photography and b) when you have a trained eye. Stop fooling yourself that this is photography, stop relying on photoshop to fix your bad photography and actually learn to take better photos.
Posted on 28th May 2010 by Michael Johnston in Photography
Well, that was fun. Amused myself, which is something.
Thanks for all the great comments.
Of course, "George" is fictitious. And I've never actually recommended that a beginner start with a D700 and two primes. Wouldn't be a bad idea, though. Especially if fictitious George could buy the camera used.
In real life, "buying and trying" is part of the fun. And there's no one
right journey for everyone—just as there's no one correct destination.
The point of "Letter to George," of course, can actually be summed up in three words: "Sometimes,
economizing isn't." You can do great work with very basic or inexpensive cameras, as I've said many times, but
there's also no reason you have to start small. As long as you can afford it responsibly, I see nothing
necessarily wrong with starting at the top. Assuming it's something you really do want.
This idea stems in part from an ancient ethos that I absorbed seemingly by osmosis when I got into photography. Basically, the idea was that you did what you had to do to get what you needed to do your work. That doesn't mean rob and steal. But...save up, sacrifice, seek bargains, even take out a bank loan if you need to. Get what you really need to do the work you want to do. Do it right the first time and then don't do it again...too soon. Granted, it's often expensive. But, as "Letter to George" indicates, sometimes it's more expensive not to do so, because instead of buying one expensive camera once, you end up buying five cheaper ones first...and then you still have to buy the expensive one you wanted all along in the end.
This strategy didn't work very well during the Digital Transition—it worked better in film days, only because you could keep using a good film camera for decades if you wanted to—but things have settled down enough that I think it's starting to be good advice again. At least, it seems reasonable to expect five years of service out of a good digital camera of today without suffering undue obsolescence.
But if I were to sum up my actual, real buying advice in very short form, it would go something like this:
1. Do your level best to get something you really, really like.
2. Make a promise to yourself—set a time goal in order to limit the time you might waste shopping and the money you might waste buying successive iterations of the same item. The best experiences I've had with new cameras were when I invested in exactly what I wanted and promised myself in advance that I'm going to commit to it for a certain period of time. I committed to the M6 for one year, and used it for nearly three; the OM-4T for three years, and used it for nearly five. Both experiences were great—very focused on pictures as opposed to gear. It's fun to shop, but it's crucial to stop.
3. While you own something, no matter what it is, use it as hard as you can and enjoy it.
Of course, that last bit of advice is redundant. You already do, I'm sure.
Note: Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. More... Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.
Featured Comment by Tom Brenholts: "This reminds me of the Law of Tripods: Every beginning photographer has at least three tripods. 1) The cheapest one he could find, 2) The most expensive one at the Big Box Store, 3) The one he should have bought first."
Mike replies:Tripods are an excellent example. I still have, and still use, the first tripod I ever owned, a magnificent, sturdy 30-year-old Gitzo Studex I bought new. It's a bit the worse for wear but absolutely fully functional. It's true that more recently I've considered buying a carbon fiber model—those didn't exist when I bought the Studex, which is made of steel and anything but light—but I haven't wasted a lot of money on tripods over the years. I bought the best right from the start and have never really needed anything else. Far from being a symptom of profligacy, "buying the best from the outset" can be a money-saving strategy.
Featured Comment by Jillian: "Here's a random plug: I have the world's nicest and most expensive point-and-shoot camera. It is a D700 with a lovely lens that I can't describe because I don't know anything about cameras. It says 1:1.8G on it, is that a thing? When my husband the camera hobbyist had cancer, towards the end, he realized that whatever camera he left me with for taking pics of our toddler was going to be the camera I used for the next 20 years or so. So he quietly upgraded the D70 for a D700, and set it up for me. I haven't changed a single setting in nine months, and I take tons of truly gorgeous pictures, inside, outside, low light, sunlight, action, still, whatever. It doesn't zoom but that hasn't been a problem. I have no training or knowledge whatsoever, and I take amazing, artist-quality pictures. Seriously. I don't even post-process. They magically come out looking like that."
Mike replies:That's a very touching story—thank you. So sorry about your husband. And what a nice gift from him, in many different ways.
Featured Comment by David in Sydney: "Early on when I was about 12 I was given something like a 110 film camera. It lasted about one roll of film. Then a second hand Nikon FM (being sold by a trustworthy shop) that had been sprayed internally with WD-40 was gifted me as a 15 year old. Both experiences and both cameras made me lose my faith in photography for a while until the Nikon was fixed.
"Since that first Nikon 25 years ago I've had nothing but good cameras—the top Nikon, Leica and Hasselblad bodies. The bad tools are very depressing and soul destroying. The best tools have allowed me to enjoy photography. Buying cheap and nasty means you've lost the opportunity to enjoy yourself. And if you decide that this new hobby isn't to be you really can't sell a bad camera!"
Mike replies:I've had that same experience, David—cameras I knew I couldn't sell in good conscience.
Talking about bad tools being depressing and "soul destroying," a few more thoughts I've remembered—I'm not a guitarist, but I've heard it said that it's easier to learn how to play on a good guitar than on a bad one. And I recall once talking to a clerk in a big, very old warehouse store. He was talking about fitted clubs, and his opinion was that the common perception is exactly backwards. He felt that beginners really needed fitted clubs so they didn't develop bad habits compensating for poorly-fitting clubs, whereas he himself, on the other hand, was a scratch golfer and could adjust to just about anything. His opinion was that the only people who bought fitted clubs were golfers who didn't really need them, and the people who really needed them would never even consider them.
Posted on 28th May 2010 by News: Digital Photography Review (dpreview.com) in Syndicated Press
Just posted! Our lens review of Panasonic's ultra-wideangle zoom for Micro Four Thirds, the Lumix G Vario 7-14mm F4 ASPH. This lens takes advantage of the downsizing possibilities offered by the mirrorless format to deliver a huge angle of view in a body that's scarcely larger than a typical DSLR kit zoom. But this comes at a pretty steep price, so with the Olympus M Zuiko Digital 9-18mm F4-5.6 now available as a lower-cost alternative, we look to see what extra the 7-14mm has on offer to tempt the wideangle enthusiast.
Posted on 28th May 2010 by Michael Johnston in Photography
Dear Mr. Johnston,
Thank you for your response attempting to assist me in my Nikon purchase. However, I find your recommendation preposterous and extremely strange coming from a so-called expert. First of all, the D700 at $2,450 is far beyond my budget, which I told you is $400, and way too much overkill for a photographer just setting out, and your suggestion that I purchase 35mm ƒ/2 and 85mm ƒ/1.8 lenses is strange. Those lenses don't even zoom? All of my friends use zoom lenses and that is all my local store carries. I am somewhat mystified by your note.
Sincerely, George
-
Dear George,
Yes, you are absolutely right, and I apologize. Like many aficionados I am excessively affected by my own preferences and habits, and it leads me to give buying advice that is indeed idiosyncratic. The suggestion that you jump in from the get-go with an investment of $3,195 is indeed preposterous (good word).
I would like to make amends by suggesting an objectively more characteristic 25-step course of action for you. My experience in this field has demonstrated many times that this sequence is broadly very typical, and I think you will find that these new recommendations far more objectively trace the course of most serious photographers' investments in their gear.
I apologize again—in what follows, I have used some current model names and numbers as representative of product types, even though what I'm describing is usually a 3–5 year process and actual model numbers and prices will naturally change over than interval.
And I say the process as outlined contains 25 steps; but you might well find there will be more.
Step 1. Purchase a "digicam" or digital point-and-shoot, chiefly because that's what most human beings do first when it occurs to them that they want a camera. This will be preceded by approximately four months of troublesome and increasingly frustrating product research and shopping, during which time you will be learning how to shop but not how photograph. Also during that time, you will be limited to taking pictures with your iPhone. It gradually dawns on you that no one can give you perfectly satisfactory advice about buying a point-and-shoot, for the simple reason that there are roughly 13,796 of them on the market (note: estimate only) with dozens dropping off the cliff into discontinuation and dozens more being introduced all the time, making the search for "the best one" a shifting target even if you could tell them apart. Eventually, lose patience and buy what the local local store counterman recommends, even though in the backmost reaches of your almost-subconscious you suspect that his high level of confidence might be motivated by the fact that he gets a spiff for selling that model because it has a higher profit margin than most of the others, and his boss is pushing him to push it. With tax, it only comes in $30 over your absolute top budget number of $400. Belatedly, you will remember to check B&H Photo, which will be selling the same model, only with an extra card, for $236.
Step 2. Be perfectly happy with your new purchase...for about 2 1/2 months. After that, slowly discover its infuriating shutter lag, the alarming slowness of its lens at full telephoto, its wretched high-ISO performance, and its general frailty and operational quirkiness. Nevertheless, use said digicam for another 1.8 years as you doggedly and determinedly "get your money's worth out of it," even though you pretty much hate it the whole time. Still, it's always with you, you do a lot of snapping, photography's fun.
Step 3. After the digicam fails utterly on an expensive vacation—just when you most needed it to work—buy a Canon G10 premium fixed-lens camera. ($420.)
Step 4. Three weeks later, G11 comes out. Buy that ($470), sell G10 at $150 loss.
Step 5. Realize that G10 actually has more megapixels than the G11; sell G11 ($120 loss), buy another G10.
Step 6. Read about small vs. large sensors on the internet, realize you are not really very happy with the premium point-and-shoot category anyway, because it's still mostly a point-and-shoot and you've just kind of had it with point-and-shoots. Sell second G10 for a $175 loss this time and graduate to an $800 entry-level DSLR, purchased with a "kit zoom." Again, that little voice that is almost buried in your subconscious mentions to you fleetingly that the kit zoom is where the company is saving money on the package price, despite the fact that the lens is what determines the essential look of the pictures. The pictures look much better than the pictures from your now-dead p/s, though, and you're sure—almost—that they look better than the pictures from the G10/11, most of the time—so how bad could it be?
Step 7. Some months later, following the happy congruence of a number of occurrences, namely, 1) an unexpected cash windfall, 2) your wife's uncle's ridicule of your "cheap" camera at a family gathering, 3) your own rather acute embarrassment at having to bring your camera to a rare paying job, during which you were pretty sure you saw your client looking askance at it; 4) dozens more hours spent shopping, and 5) your reading of some 340,000 words on the internet (approximately 1/12th of which were at all useful)—purchase a D90. Sell the entry-level DSLR for 2/5ths of what you paid for it, but keep the lens for the D90. (By the way, you still have your digicam. It doesn't work, can't be fixed economically, and is worth next to nothing on Ebay anyway, but for some strange reason—or, rather, just over 400 strange reasons—you cannot actually bring yourself to physically toss it in the wastebasket. It sits in the closet now. Note: the closet of which I speak is a seldom-mentioned but deeply significant vector very near the beating heart of photographic equipment shopping.
Step 8. Almost immediately after buying the D90, begin dreaming of a D300s.
Step 9. Kit lens from entry-level DSLR seems a little forlorn on the D90, and you're wondering if it's "getting the most out of the sensor." Succumb to "metaphysical doubt" and insecurity, and purchase a magnificent do-everything, fast, premium normal zoom lens. $630.
Step 10. Because the camera is so awkward to carry with your new zoom—which you love, by the way—you inadvertently drop it. Just once. It survives, but the LCD is cracked, and you're not quite 100% certain, but you think some of the electronic menu settings have gone a bit wonky. These imperfections eat at you, just a tiny bit, every time you use the camera.
Step 11. Purchase camera insurance.
Step 12. Due a perception that no serious photographer has just one serious lens, purchase a second lens to "cover all the focal lengths" and "complement" your main lens—another magnificent do-everything, fast, premium zoom lens, but telephoto. $520.
Step 13. Add a macro; your zoom doesn't seem to do close-ups very well. Also $520.
Step 14. Spend several dozen hours proving to yourself by reading and rereading lens tests until you're bleary-eyed that your macro lens is as close to technically perfect as it is possible for a lens to be. It's super sharp! Right out to the corners! The tiny voice that won't shut up mentions to you that your macro pictures still kind of suck, and that there are approximately a Graham's number of macro pictures on the internet already, almost all of which look...well, more or less the same.
Step 15. Because you're not quite satisfied, in a way you can't quite put your finger on, with the output of the tele zoom—it just doesn't quite seem to satisfy you like the images from your main zoom does—you're not quite sure what it is—you again dive into an extended bout of internet research and shopping, and resurface from a long immersion only with the purchase a truly magnificent, professional 80–200mm, constant-aperture zoom. $1080. You give the old tele zoom to your wife's uncle's teenage son, who immediately begins doing fantastic work with it after having suddenly come to the stunning realization that you exist.
Step 16. Troublingly, you find yourself increasingly leaving the camera bag at home, as it now weighs approximately the same, and is roughly the same size, as a concrete block.
Step 17. Wife buys you D300s for birthday! Yay! Best birthday present ever! It's love, pure love—for the wife, not the camera. Sort of for the camera. $1530. You would sell the D90, but since it's broken.... You do mean to get it fixed. It goes in the closet.
Step 18. F**king blo*dy tiny voice begins just the faintest, most distant murmur about full frame.
Step 19. Decide you are not a macro type of photographer. In weak, trifling attempt to lighten bag, macro lens joins old entry-level kit zoom and broken point-and-shoot in closet. Hey, you can always go get it if you need it.
Step 20. Now that you have your beautiful constant aperture pro tele zoom, your old "prosumer" mid-level normal zoom doesn't seem to quite match any more. So you buy a 17–55mm ƒ/2.8 AF-S lens. Which is truly awesome. You totally love it. $1,385. Old zoom goes on Ebay, fetches $230 after shipping and fees.
Step 21. You consider yourself completely set where equipment is concerned. Completely set. For all time. You will never need anything more, ever. Yet, for some reason, a nagging sense of ennui sets in where your photography hobby is concerned. You realize, in a moment of exquisite clarity which also elicits just a faint touch of existential panic, that you miss shopping. You find yourself diving into shopping for things you know you're not going to buy. Desultorily, you check prices, read reviews. You find yourself getting uncharacteristically snarky on forums you frequent. Then, wandering about in this strange wilderness where shopping is no longer called for, you read some idiot on the internet who maunders on an on about how fun it is to use just one small prime lens. Completely on impulse, then, you snag a copy of the recently introduced 35mm ƒ/1.8. ($200.) Amazingly, it is kind of nice—it makes the big D300 surprisingly handy, almost nimble. Cue metaphors of bare feet, let-down hair, Julie Andrews in various
meadows with her angelic sky-facing pie-hole exuding glorious plainsong.
You feel...free. Sure, it's not that exciting as a lens, and it's a little too long if you're being honest with yourself, but there's no big bag to carry around. It's easy to grab on the way out the door. To your surprise, your enjoyment ramps up again, much more than just noticeably.
Step 23. Your activity as a photographer re-ignited, you suddenly get religion: you are going to buy the best, the very best, to put the demons to rest. With a grim set to your mouth and a feeling of unstoppable determination, you purchase that D700. You hadn't even really been considering it; you weren't really that serious when you did all that research and read all those reviews. Elation vies with guilt as you write the check. $2,450. Little voice grumbles that your initial budget for this whole enterprise was $400, but you tell it to shut up: the D700 now seems almost cheap to you compared to the D3s and D3x. Wife is a tad cross and hurt: it's only been a year and four months since the D300 birthday present. Guiltily, you explain carefully that the D300 is a great backup and how you still really need it, really, how it's still the best present ever, etc. Of course, there's a slight drawback to this: having told her you still need the D300s as a backup, you can't immediately turn around and sell it to offset the cost of the D700 like you really ought to. Not right away, anyway. And of course you need a lens for it, so you keep that beautiful normal zoom. As a bright, shining symbol of your financial responsibility, you sell the macro lens on Ebay. It brings $380, of which $35 is shipping costs and Ebay fees. She goes, "It's your hobby. I just want you to have what you want." Then she adds, "Honey," giving you a look as if perhaps an incubus has invaded your body and taken over your soul.
Step 24. Slight problem with D700: only one of your lenses—the big 80–200mm, which, apart from the macro and the disused kit lens, is the one lens you own that you use the least—now works on your camera. The rest are all APS-C lenses. However, your spending has been out of control, you do have that slightly sick feeling of one who has indulged in something overmuch, your wife now looks somber and concerned whenever the subject of your hobby comes up, you've put black electrician's tape over the "D700" on your new camera in hopes that your wife's uncle won't notice the switch and tease you about it, and you're ever so slightly worried about...well, not your sanity, exactly—it's not that bad—let's just say, your previous reputation for level-headed practicality. So, in a continuation of the "one lens" notion combined with a certain feeling of penitence, you go on Ebay and purchase a very modest used 35mm ƒ/2 AF-Nikkor. $250.
Step 25. Although you're mostly happy with the 35mm, you do one simple head-and-shoulders portrait with the 80–200mm zoom and find it to be...well, preposterous (sorry!). So you add a simple 85mm ƒ/1.8. $425. You mean to get a full-frame replacement for your beloved normal zoom for APS-C—someday; you're toying with the idea of another macro, but one that works on full-frame; a wide zoom might be nice; you occasionally wonder about this or that other lens...but, really, when it gets right down to it, the lenses at either end of a postulated hypothetical 35–85mm zoom do well enough for you most of the time. And they're fast. And portable. And cheap. Besides, your files, while not perfect or automatically imbued with any special magic, are now about as good as it's reasonably possible for files to be, and you've learned by this time—finally—that photography is a matter of learning to shoot, having the camera with you, learning to handle it as if it were second nature, gradually increasing the sophistication of your taste by looking at great work that appeals to you, learning to edit, and discovering your own visual passions, rather than being a matter of equipment.
Total elapsed time: 3–5 years. Over most of that time, you haven't been terribly happy with what you were shooting with. (Remember that 1.8-year stint with the point-and-shoot.)
End-point: D700 and two basic lenses. Plus, that tele zoom that's too heavy to carry around (as well as a bunch of other things) in that closet.
Total major equipment expenditures: $9,770. Of course, you mean to sell the D300s and the AF-S normal zoom—someday—but in point of fact you will probably just basically forget they exist and end up procrastinating until such time in the distant future when the camera, at least, is not worth all that much any more. In the meantime, it's your...backup. Honey.
An investment of $3,195 would have meant you'd have been all set for 3–5 years, perfectly free to concentrate on taking pictures. The expenditure would have amounted to between $1,065 and $639 per year for a very rewarding and renewable hobby. It would have represented a savings of approximately 400 hours of shopping time, $6,575 in cash, and much needless agonizing over trivialities.
Anyway, George, I apologize again for recommending a D700 and two basic lenses even though you're just starting out. No doubt you will want to learn your own lessons, and make your own progress through a succession of gear, just as most photographers do. In my own defense, I can only say that it doesn't really matter anyway, since no one who asks me for purchasing advice ever actually follows that advice anyway! (Really.) But as you can probably deduce from the above, my initial recommendation to you possibly isn't quite as flat-out mad as it might on the surface appear.
But...$400? Please. No one gets away with that.
Cordially, Mike
P.S. If I managed to do all the arithmetic in this post accurately, it will be a miracle.
Note: Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. More... Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.
Featured Comment by Cameron: "It doesn't have to be that way, though. In six years of taking digital photographs, I've owned three point-n-shoots and two digital SLRs. The point-n-shoots were only replaced because they broke, not because I lusted after something better. I upgraded from a Nikon D50 to a D90 after three years; and then only because I got a chance to buy one second-hand for a price I couldn't refuse. As for the lenses, flashes, tripods, brief film phase and most recently a big Epson photo printer: guilty as charged! But the thing that I want most at the moment is not more gear, but more time to take photographs with what I already own."
Mike replies:Very smart, very...restrained. You're a better man than I! It's nice to know some people get out alive....
Queryfrom Paul O'Mahony (Cork): "I guess my comment was not approved?"
Mike replies: It was. There are only 50 comments per page, so you have to click on "Next page of comments" at the bottom of each page to get to the next one. There are more than 200 comments to this post now, thus there are five pages of comments. It's easy to miss the link.
Posted on 27th May 2010 by Michael Johnston in Photography
By Ctein
I don't hold a lot of agreement with assertions about what photographers are obligated to do, as I've written in columns like "Channeling David Vestal" and "The Photo-Fetishist League." I think one of the more destructive mindsets in the arts accompanies a pronouncement to the effect that you are not a Proper Artist (or Practitioner, if you eschew the term "artist") unless you do such-and-such. We've all been fed them. Real Serious Photographers don't work in color. Or if they do, they only work in slide film. Or if they do that as well, they only work in large format. Or, absent that, at least they work in film, because we all know that it's not real and personal photography when you drag that durn, soulless computer stuff into it. Or, if they are so far gone and lost from The True Path (TTP [tm]) that they're committing digital photography, at least they work solely in RAW and never JPEG. Yup, we gotta maintain standards.
The reason why this is all nonsense is very simple: Every approach you take to photography will have its strengths and weaknesses, both artistically and technically. What's bad is when there's a mismatch between what you want to do and the advantages and disadvantages of how you're going about it. I rail against absolutism because it encourages that sort of mismatch by demanding TTP.
These pronouncements have been appearing my entire life. I don't expect them to stop. It's a game of whack a mole; when it pops up, you whack it. Sometimes the moles pop up where you don't expect them. I was stunned to read in a comment to my last column that, "...photographers who hand their images to someone else for printing are abdicating part of their artistic responsibility." Oh man, I can't let something that wrong pass*.
(Yes, there are certain arenas where prints don't matter one bit. That's obviously not the scope nor intent of the claim. Even absolutism has to be judged with a grain of relativism, so no fair shooting at the fish in the barrel.)
Failing the absolutism test is sufficient reason to damn it, as I've already argued in 2.5 columns. But worse, I think it's specifically bad advice. Printing takes a lot of time, money, and energy. No photographer is given an unlimited supply of any of those. Resources you devote to printing are ones you cannot devote to making more photographs, making more timely photographs (which may matter), learning and practicing how to make better photographs (which definitely matters), even traveling to more interesting locales to make photographs (travel being another one of those things that consumes time, money, and energy).
That's not to say that you shouldn't know what a good print looks like. That's very different from having to do it yourself, or ever having done it yourself. In fact, DIY can sometimes interfere with knowing what a good print looks like. Anyone in the biz has seen vast numbers of poorly printed portfolios, "wet" and "dry," where the photographer clearly had no idea that their printing sucked.
We can likely agree that understanding what a good print looks like is important. It's the main reason Mike started the low-cost print program at Photo Techniques magazine. We both think that's really important; it's hard for photographers to know what to aspire to without reference.
But, once you know that, is there an unavoidable need to be doing your own printing? No. Custom printers have existed since Day One and it's their business to understand what the photographer needs and to elicit the information from the photographer that will get them the print they need...even if the photographer doesn't know how to articulate that. It's part of the job. It's not even an especially rare skill; there used to be a zillion decent custom labs out there.
Many justly-famous photographers haven't done the majority of their own printing. In some subgenres like portraiture that is even the norm; the majority of great portrait photographers did not do their own printing; some never even learned to print. Among four photojournalists I have a fondness for, Pearce, Kennerly, Jarecke and Turnley, we have substantial talents with quite varying amounts of personal printing in their careers. Even in landscape photography, that bastion of fine printing, it's a mixed bunch. Eliot Porter was famous for doing dye transfers of his landscapes. Galen Rowell wasn't exactly well-known for his darkroom time.
Personal choice Obviously I made the "print your own" choice, even taking it to possibly unreasonable extremes. But it's never been clear that it was the only right choice for me. Some arguments to the contrary: I am a vastly better printer than I am photographer. Is that imbalance really good for one's art? I don't think it is for mine.
It may not have even been the smartest career move. Frank McLaughlin, the patron saint of dye transfer, once asked me in all seriousness if I was really better off having immersed myself in doing dye transfer printing. A good case could be made that I've spent as much money in the darkroom as it would've cost me to buy others' dye transfer printing services, and I would not have been out many thousands of hours of my time. And I'm not sure I could even claim a net profit on printing my own work until the dye transfer print sales here on TOP. That's 30 years to financial break-even, again not counting the number of hours spent.
Understand that I am not expressing one bit of regret. I like my life. But I cannot logically defend it as the best choice, either artistically or professionally, for me. As for declaring what must work for others, oh, that is to laugh.
*An afterthought to insure that we don't veer into the ad hominem...I didn't write this to defend my printing business; I did it because I have a deep knowledge of the subject. 99.9% of you could decide that having anyone else print your work would be abhorrent and it wouldn't affect me one bit nor in any way jeopardize my income; you're not my clientele.
Ctein's regular weekly column appears every Thursday morning on TOP.
Note: Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. More... Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.
Featured Comment by Geoff Wittig: "Ouch! Smacked down by Ctein!
"I probably deserve it for implying such an absolutist position. But I'd like to clarify a bit; I was paraphrasing a comment made by Richard Benson in an interview in Lenswork. [Issue 84 with audio on 84 Extended —Ed.] Benson is the author of The Printed Picture, former head of Yale's art department and an expert printer. (Okay, the academic credentials may be considered a negative here, but still.) Regarding the print as a physical artifact, as the final work of art resulting from the photographic process, I think the assertion still has merit. Delegating the actual process of crafting a print from your photograph does indeed relinquish some of your control over the image, and introduces at least a modicum of someone else's interpretation into the final print. David Plowden has described a conversation with a custom printer who boasted that he could make a better print from Plowden's negatives than Plowden could. 'No doubt you're right; but it would no longer be my photograph.' That's obviously a bit of hyperbole, but Plowden is emphasizing the importance of controlling every aspect of the photograph's interpretation. Certainly there have been countless fruitful collaborations between photographers and printers; not for one moment to I mean to denigrate the remarkable skills of fine printers like Ctein. Robert Glenn Ketchum's work for example is known largely through the spectacular Ilfochrome prints made by Michael Wilder. Obviously working closely with a skilled printer who follows your instructions (or who can educate you regarding where the image 'wants to go') can yield a superb result.
"There are also obviously large areas of photographic expression where finicky darkroom (wet or digital) interpretation and a physical print are irrelevant. The vast majority of snapshots and family photographs come to mind. Plenty of photojournalism finds its home as 2x3" halftone reproduction on newsprint, where careful attention to print quality seems beside the point. Then again, it's hard to imagine W. Eugene Smith's work having precisely the same feel or impact without his obsessive stylized darkroom interpretation.
"As always, YMMV. Like the old Ben & Jerry's bumper sticker says, 'If it's not fun, why do it?' For me, printing is easily half the fun. But if anyone finds it torturous and gets great results from Mpix or Costco, well, have fun!"
Ctein replies:Oh, absolutely not meant as a smack-down of you. (I'm sure you know that, but I want to make sure everyone else does, too.)
I think there are some interesting ideas worth exploring in more depth in the Plowden anecdote; there's a deep and fascinating question along the lines of "What does 'artistic ownership' mean and what compromises or enhances it?" It might even be the seed for a whole new column. But, I'm too blitzed after 13 hours of traveling to think deeply right now.
Featured Comment by Greg Smith: "Best thing you've posted I've seen. Good job. I do my own printing, because I haven't tried a pro shop yet. Economically, its cheaper for me to self-print. My work sells, so there is some validation for my efforts and I take a measure of satisfaction in being able to tell those curious that I do the entire process from camera to frame myself. Someday, when the funds present themselves I will try a custom house, see what's what. Talk of absolutism brings to mind a bumper sticker: 'Death to extremists!' Best wishes."
Posted on 27th May 2010 by News: Digital Photography Review (dpreview.com) in Syndicated Press
Pentax and Nikon have released firmware updates for the Optio H90, I-10, W90, X90 and Coolpix S230 compact cameras. The updates to version 1.0.1 for all Pentax compacts offer additional settings while using Eye-Fi wireless memory cards. The firmware v1.1 for the Nikon S230 fixes a minor bug. The latest versions are available for immediate download from the Pentax and Nikon websites.
Posted on 26th May 2010 by News: Digital Photography Review (dpreview.com) in Syndicated Press
Just posted: our look behind the scenes of in-camera lens corrections. It's become increasingly common for manufacturers to design cameras that perform some degree of lens correction. So what are manufacturers playing at? Why are they releasing lenses with distortion, what effect does it have, and should dpreview review the distorted or the corrected output? We spoke to a series of leading camera and lens makers, as well as the creators of leading RAW converters to find out just what's going on.
Posted on 26th May 2010 by News: Digital Photography Review (dpreview.com) in Syndicated Press
Sony has detailed the double-layer microlens technology it used to maintain imaging performance in its chip featuring the industry's smallest pixel size. Its latest Semiconductor and Components online newsletter explains the structure of the ICX681SQW 14.2 MP 1/2.3" type CCD sensor that adds convex lenses beneath the existing microlenses to improve optical condensing (the process of directing more light onto the photodiode). The chip is used in the Cybershot H55 and several recent W Series compacts. The newsletter also gives details of the company's 3:2 aspect ratio, 1.03 million dot LED-lit LCD panel that sounds a lot like the one used in Canon's Rebel T2i.
Posted on 26th May 2010 by Michael Johnston in Photography
We'd bet it was the guy front and right-center who turned her in. Doesn't he look like a math teacher who's thinking, "Is that gum?"
• "The ongoing clash between modern technology and old traditions": Newbie Member of Parliament for Leicester West Liz Kendall is in hot water for violating the no-photography rule in the House of Lords—for a picture she snapped with her iPhone, and immediately tweeted. At Enticing the Light, Miserere wonders whether she might be put to death like Thomas More. (Good on Leicester West; that post makes me rather like Liz Kendall.)
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• Location isn't everything: So you think unique access to a rare subject will save you from criticism? Think again. A humorous put-down of a certain accomplished robot photographer from Christopher Lane.
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• New portfolios: TOP Foreign Correspondent Peter Turnley has updated his web page with 12 new portfolios from recent times, including several bodies of work that had their world premieres right here on these virtual pages. Well worth an extended visit!
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• Portrait of a photographer: An astounding number of readers have sent us this link. "Photographer at Old Orchard House," Maine, circa 1904. Another curiosity from Shorpy.
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• Long-awaited: The next book by the Ornette Coleman of the camera (only his instrument is a Hasselblad Superwide instead of a white plastic sax), America by Car, by Lee Friedlander, is out. Almost. Sure to be quirky, real, and funky. Who else would take landscapes the way we mostly actually see them, with the car in the way?
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• Now you've gone and done it: A few of the comments yesterday got me interested in the Canon EF-S 17–55mm ƒ/2.8 IS USM zoom, and I spent a good chunk of the day yesterday researching it, reading reviews and looking at pictures. From what I can discern online (not everything), it indeed looks to be a very sound balancing of all the competing and conflicting parameters involved in designing a normal zoom: almost too big but not quite, almost too expensive but not quite, not too many foibles to remain aware of...and the picture quality looks generally luscious. The "perfect" contemporary all-purpose zoom? Could be. The only problem is that a "nested" fast prime would not have IS.
And it stands up pretty well to my mostly-tongue-in-cheek Handy TOP Guide to How to Buy a Zoom Lens:
1. The lower the range of the lens, expressed as a multiple, the better. To find this number, take the longest focal length and divide by the shortest focal length. Thus a 35–70mm is 2X, a 28–85mm is 3X, etc. 1X is best, up to 3X is okay, anything over 4X should be evaluated with caution.
2. The faster the maximum aperture (the lower the f-number), the better. (If
the speed of the range is expressed as a range, e.g. ƒ/3.4–5.6, the first number is the lens's fastest speed.)
3. If the speed of the range is expressed as a range, the less difference between the maximum aperture at the widest focal-length setting and at the longest focal-length setting, the better. Constant aperture zooms are best; an ƒ/2.8–4 lens (one stop) is okay; if the difference is two stops or more, choose with caution.
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• And speaking of zooms, a vintage Herbert Keppler quotation: "I am fed up to the ears with all the guff about 35–70mm zoom lenses. I don't think they're great, I think they will assure you of fairly ordinary pictures and are apt to stunt your growth as a photographer." (Popular Photography, March 1988)
• Books by readers: Australian TOP reader Phil Aynsley's magnum opus on Ducati motocycles is now available from Amazon. The Amazon page says there is only one available, but Phil assures me that actually "they have heaps." So, no TOP effect.
Mike (Thanks to José Luis Galanche and Rob Atkins)
Note: Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. More... Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.
Featured Comment by Ed Kirkpatrick: "So I had to go look at 'Photographer at Old Orchard House, Maine, circa 1904,' and while it turns out I know this photograph, I noticed the link to another photo, 'Alpha Girls, 1912,' and in looking at that saw it was part of the Harris and Ewing Collection. If you are from Washington, D.C., you might remember that H & E was the go-to photographic studio in the early half of the 20th century. My great-grandparents and grandparents used them all the time.
"A Google search yielded a link to the Library of Congress, which houses the partially digitized collection of H & E's negatives that is searchable. So what do I find but two images of my family that have been lost to me for years, and are down-loadable for free (the images, not the family, although maybe that's next).
Ain't the internet a great thing? Thanks for the link Mike!"