5.15.2012

Haven't digital cameras just gotten good in the last five years?


I buy into the hype as often as everyone else.  I get convinced that a camera like the D800 or the newest Canon is an amazing leap forward and that I'll need to rush right out and get one or my competitors will trample me into a puddle of non-commercially dysfunctional goo and my career will grind to a bitter halt.  I'll be the Willy Lohman of photography.

I guess this insecurity with our cameras comes from many of us regarding them as little computers, bound intractably by Moore's Law.  That every 18 months the value, speed, coolness and everything else about new cameras will be double what it was before.  And that may be true of some of the processors inside, but.....

So there I was this morning, walking into the Austin Kipp School campus with my latest and greatest cameras getting ready to set the world on fire with 24 megapixels of hyperventilating coolness when I was stopped in my tracks.  Just kinda paralyzed in place by a visual smack on the head.

You see, I'd done a job for them about seven years ago and they'd printed it large.  How large?  The smallest image was about four feet by five feet.  The images were printed on a Lightjet printer by one of the best labs in the country and mounted on one inch thick GatorFoam.  And the school hung the images all through the entryway and lobby of the school.  They were stunning.  Incredibly sharp.  No obvious noise (especially at the viewing distance required by such big prints..) and tonality to die for.

My ability to process files that well is non-existent, I'd sent the lab raw files back then, knowing that their lab software, costing thousands of dollars, would do a much better job on the images then me running them through PhotoShop or a similar, consumer raw processor.  (which makes me think the raw conversion software has improved a lot more than the cameras....).

It took me a moment to remember which camera I used to shoot the images up on the walls.  Judging from the prints I imagined it might have been a medium format camera with a Leaf back I used to use from time to time, in the past.  Then I remembered.  They'd all been shot with a Kodak DCS 760C camera.  A whopping six megapixels on an APS-H sensor.   I'd given the camera as much of a head start as I could.  I used the lowest ISO which was 80.  I used a tripod for every shot.  I used a Nikon 105mm f2 DC lens at it's optimum aperture range (f4-5.6) and I used Profoto Electronic flash equipment in a big softbox.  No issues with subject or camera movement, etc.

I also did my set up tests tethered to a computer in order to make sure the exposure was right on the money.  The camera's rear LCD screens at the time were almost useless for fine tuning exposure...

When I walked into the school today I walked right up to one of the big prints.  It's of an African American teenager holding a microscope and staring into the camera with calm self-confidence.  I can't think of a better way to make that image today, even with "better" gear.  It's as perfect as I think I could make it.

In light of this I have to laugh at myself, my friends and all the people on the web who create so much self-inflicted anxiety in their quest for the latest and greatest cameras.  Yes, the new Canon 5D3 will shoot better in lower light but we needed the lighting not for the photons but for the direction and style and look.  The light from the ceiling mounted fluorescent bulbs wouldn't have the same feel.  Yes, the Nikon D4 would smoke the AF of the DCS 760 but then my subjects were all standing still in the glow of my modeling lights and focus just wasn't an issue.  The fact of the matter is that manufacturers have made shooting easier but not necessarily better.  Let me explain that for engineers and their surrounding Umpa Lumpas of high tech.  The camera makers made all the stuff you could measure "better" but they aren't in charge of manufacturing the art.  We add that.  And in the end, once you've crossed a certain line of quality or have the discipline to work in the sweet spot of the tools, all the mechanical and electronic stuff melts away and it comes down to how well you can direct, light and motivate your subject. The camera, in many ways, becomes nothing but an afterthought.

If you see the camera work before the art then the photograph has already failed and all the extra pixels in the world won't make a difference.  When Joe McNally shot a spread for Nat. Geo. with a Nikon D1x (5 megs.) he broke the acceptance of digital barrier for everyone else working in print. Since then countless great images have been done with 6 megapixel cameras and, at the 2000 Olympics, most of the shooters were using 4 megapixel Canons and 2.7 megapixel Nikons.  The pictures were stunning.  The world gasped.  No one asked for more.  The artists had done their work...

This post is partially to answer a reader who asked if the Nikon D2X was really such a good camera or, only good for the time.  Yes.

5.14.2012

I have to laugh, sometimes, when people talk about cameras.


They think everything should be sharp, like the images of earth from outer space.  But remarkably, the images most people seem to like don't really have much to do with sharpness or lack of sharpness.  The real parameters seem different.  People are engaged by subject and, with life documented sharply and accurately twenty four hours a day they may be more interested in photography that's an interpretation of a thing instead of it's literal molecular construction.


Both of these images are of a green chair.  The second image totally describes the chair. The first image alludes to something that might be a chair.  I like them both but the more abstracted reality of the chair wears well, day in and day out.

I looked back at these photographs as a counterpoint to the chatter all over the web about the new Olympus OMD EM5 camera.  Half the people discussing are convinced (as I am) that it represents the next real generation of tools for a large subset of photographic artists.  The others either don't care (which is shrewd) or they cling to what they know best and assume a defensive stance.

The arguments rage as to whether the camera is sharp enough (for almost everything I can think of  it is...) and whether it is a worthy tool (most cameras are).

But it got me thinking.  Were all the cameras that came before just a charade?  Were they some sort of place holder between film and digital perfection that we had somehow been duped into accepting because we had no other reasonable choice?

I didn't think so either and so, by way of a reality check, I went back to these files from a trip I took to west Texas where I took only two cameras:  an Olympus EP2 and an Olympus EPL-1.
After the hysteria of the web I expected that, when I opened the files, I would find only mush.  Baseball sized electronic noise and hideous color shifts that would render the files unusable.

But, in fact, I am quite pleased with all the files I scrolled through.  They seem to have more than enough bite to please even the most stringent and critical viewer.  I was pleased to see the squares again.  And pleased to see that the colors were as I remembered them.  Not hampered in the least but a nice rendition of what I'd seen and remembered.

When I finished pulling out some favorite files I was pleased by the thought that the work I'd done before the arrival of the new breed of revolutionary cameras wasn't in vain.  In fact, I think a lot of what I shot with the ancient EP2 is downright lovely.  In fact, I think I'll keep it.






Portraits. Light. Engagement.

Portrait of Sarah after a swim.

Years ago, before people got so serious and so busy, I would often ask my friends to come over to the studio and stand for a quick portrait.  One day I asked my friend, Sarah, who is a painter.  She makes art for a living.  And she swims for the joy of it.

I used two lights.  One was a big softbox, mounted up high.  The other was a small softbox just behind Sarah, illuminating the background.  The camera was a Hasselblad with a 150 or 180mm lens.  ISO 100 black and white film.

I never ask people to smile.  I ask them to stand in a certain spot and to turn in a certain way.  We shot a roll of film.  Twelve frames. Sarah went off to paint and I headed into my darkroom to develop the film.  

I like to look back at prints I've done of my friends.  It reminds me that I started doing photography for the fun of it.  That I work on projects for clients but I take images of people because it satisfies a human need to connect.  I could print this large or look at it on the screen, it has the technical finish to go either way.

People seem to think photography is all about sharpness or lack of grain and noise but it isn't.  It may be the imperfections in the processes (and the seeing) that makes images seem more valuable.  Very few people are really interested in perfection.

Go see Ken Tanaka's article about the Olympus "paradigm shifter" at TOP

http://theonlinephotographer.typepad.com/the_online_photographer/2012/05/olympus-e-m5-first-notes.html

He writes well and, more importantly, I like what he writes.

Gamechanger.  Coming (some day) to a store near you.





Pecan Street Festival. May 2012



Sitting on the edge of Sixth St.  Sony a77 camera.  35mm 1.8 DT lens.  ISO 50.  1/80th f3.2

5.13.2012

Funny. I am reading a book about Steve Jobs. His mantra was to simplify and always move forward. Not back.




The simplest lighting I can imagine.


Simple styling.


Looking at the image in a straightforward way.


Trying an alternate point of view.


Trying a different dish.

Sony a77 with the 30mm Macro DT lens.  


After playing around with my smaller cameras I thought I'd revisit some bigger files.


This is a file from the Phase One 40+ forty megapixel camera I shot with back in 2010.  It does some stuff really well.  The resolution is amazing and, with a $10,000 Schneider zoom lens, the sharpness and contrast are very good. Even at medium focal lengths the rapid change in depth of field is obvious and somewhat dramatic.  The trade off is that the camera is much slower to operate than my other cameras, doesn't focus nearly as quickly and, with a couple lenses, the package cost about $52,000 at the time.  The raw files were very big.  The high ISO was just okay (and we're talking ISO 800, max.)  For the most part the size and complexity of the camera caused it to be relegated (for me) mostly to studio work where I could use it on a tripod and with ample time to focus.  


Here's how the Phase One handled an assignment to document some architectural production.  You are looking at a file that has been reduced from a huge file (pixel count) to a file that is only 2100 pixels on the long side.  In the original file you can blow things up really large and still see lots of detail.  It's pretty wonderful but nothing that my ancient Hasselblad film camera with similar lenses and low ISO slide film can't come very close to.  The real secret to getting sharp and contrasty shots with good depth of field in medium format (or any format) is to put your $52,000 camera on a good tripod.


I also shot a number of studio portraits with the Phase One system.  It was very good and the files were nice to work with.  Again, I kept the heavy camera on a stout tripod and shot at lower ISOs.  Something like ISO 80 or 100.  So, since the files are amazing and big (raising the bar?)  do all pros shoot with these kinds of cameras?  Not at all.  The smart ones consider the final destination for their files and use the tools that will do the job.  Even an iPhone can work in a pinch.  The different tools exist for different applications.  And sometimes they exist because we want choices.  We want  to break from the formulaic.  That's what moves the vision thing forward.  



5.12.2012

An interesting job with mixed light sources. On the stage.


I had several assignments during the course of the day this past Friday but this set of images for Zachary Scott Theatre was the most interesting to photograph. There's a scene at the end of the play, The Laramie Project, where one of the actors (Jaston Williams, of Greater Tuna and Tuna Texas fame) stands on a square riser covered in grass and is pelted by rain as he stretches his hands out from his side.  In the context of the play it's a very powerful moment.

I saw the scene the first time ten years ago during a dress rehearsal shoot and we captured it on film.  The shot was okay but not quite what we wanted.  Then, ten years later, I shot the scene again, during a recent dress rehearsal.  Technical issues kept me from getting the shot the marketing director and I both wanted.  The spot light on the actor was too contrasty (for the camera...just right for the audience) and the letters across the back were not bright enough.  The slow shutter speed we needed in order to dig into the darkness meant that we didn't get any sort of frozen motion on the rain drops.  We knew we'd have to light the shot to get the image that we both could visualize in our heads.  

I wanted to light up the rain drops and I knew I would have to do it with electronic flash to freeze the  motion of the rain.  I also knew from experience that the light from the flash would have to come from behind so that it didn't wash out the word, "hope" that was rear projected onto a screen behind Jaston.  It also occured to me that I'd have to filter the flash in order to get the color temperature of those light sources into the ball park with the stage lighting and, especially, the spot lights that were the main source of illumination for Jaston.

Finally, we needed to do all of our set up and all of our testing without Jaston in place because we didn't want him to have to spend much time at all in the water.  Even though the water is heated our supply of warm water would only last 11 minutes before the temperature dropped by 30 degrees or so...


To facilitate our set up I had the crew bring in a mannequin and place it on Jaston's mark.  We put the same kind of shirt on the mannequin that Jaston would be wearing so we could look at the reflectance and  see how to best light the set up so that we didn't burn out the tops of his shoulders or plunge the bottom part of the stage into blackness.

I placed two Elinchrom monolights behind the subject position to create effective backlighting for the rain (and for Jaston).  I used small, carefully focused, umbrellas with black backings as modifiers.  Through trial and error I found a sweet spot that did what I wanted with the rain (make it stand out against the background) and didn't over light Jaston in the process.

Since the main, filtered spot lights were around 3600K (as measured by a Minolta color temperature meter) I knew I needed to add a 1/2 CTO filter to each of the flashes for a better balance.  The flashes are as far back as I can get them; nearly touching the back screen.  Each one is just out of the frame on either side.

I was using a Sony a77 camera with a 16-50mm zoom as my main camera.  I settled on ISO 320 as being a good compromise between sharpness, the mix of the flash and low noise.  I shot each frame in raw.

The main frontal illumination for Jaston came from two spot lights mounted on a catwalk overhead.  He was also lit by a bank of blue gelled spots from the rear left and right. (You can see them in one of the photos below).

Once we had the test shots sorted out and approved by both the marketing director and the artistic director for the theater we removed the mannequin, quickly mopped the stage and then had Jaston step in and get settled on his mark.  I shot a couple frames of Jaston with no rain in order to assess how the light on his face looked and then I called "places" and asked the scene manager to "cue the rain."

I shot many variations of hand and arm position but all other settings were left alone.  We knew we had the lighting and color nailed.  After we got what was called for in the initial brief I wondered what the scene would look like from about five feet higher up so we gave Jaston a little break, reset the camera position up two rows in the audience seating and went through the process again.  I liked it better because the position change helped to "move" the word in the background up which gives us a few more options in final production.




I like the way the water dances off Jaston's shoulders and trickles off his ears. We started our set up around 3:15 pm and had all the technical stuff locked down and ready by 4:00 pm.  Jaston was on the set and ready. We shot for about 15 minutes, looked at samples and declared the shoot "wrapped."  The house electrician helped wrap cables and lights while I packed cameras and lenses.

Just a few photo tech notes:  The lights were far enough away from the water so that there was little danger in them getting wet.  Even so, we made sure that both cords were plugged into a GFI socket that would trip if there was a grounding issue.  I brought a total of four lights and four stands to cover the project even though I was pretty sure I would only need two.  I triggered the flashes with a Light Waves 2 radio trigger.  I brought two sets with two extra sets of batteries.

I brought two identical camera bodies just in case one failed.  I brought a total of four camera batteries.  I brought the 16-50mm zoom and a number of single focal length lenses that would cover the ranges of focal lengths I knew I wanted, just in case the lens failed.  I also brought an 85 and the 70-200mm 2.8 G Sony zoom just in case I wanted to go tight in on Jaston.  It never came up.

I cut filters for the lights in 1/4 and 1/2 CTO strengths, enough to cover all four lights, so I'd be prepared for more or less filtered main stage lights.  

I love working with a professional crew.  Having scenery manager who understood every hose, nut and bolt of the water prop was very efficient.  Having the house electrician at the lighting board for the theatrical lights was great.  We were able to adjust the levels to match the projected word light levels.  I love working with experienced marketing directors because they don't waste anybody's time with the newbie mantra, "Let's keep going, I'll know it when I see it."  We were on the same page from the first discussion.  And finally, working with a professional actor is so luxurious.  No nervousness.  No pretense.  Just, "Where do you want me? What is my action?  What is my affect?" Done.



And that's a wrap.  I didn't even need to ask someone to hand the actor a towel.  It was in his hand five seconds after the rain shut off...


This is the final camera POV.  You can see the two umbrella augmented monolights on either side of the curtain screen.  If you look directly up from the actor you'll see the two spots that are lighting the square grass prop and the actor.  Just to the outside edge of each umbrella you'll see banks of three blue gelled lights that edge light our subject.

Thanks to all the people at Zach Scott Theatre who made this moment and thousands of other magic moments happen.

(this post was edited at 7:47 pm to reflect my changing mood.)

Here's a great post from TOP:  http://theonlinephotographer.typepad.com/the_online_photographer/2011/12/the-problem-with-perfection.html





5.10.2012

Earlier this week we celebrated our 5 millionth pageview since starting in January of 2009. Today I'm celebrating our first day of over 50,000 page views.


I know that page views and individual visitors are different but it's a metric that means some people read some things that I wrote over 50,000 times today. That flat out amazes me. Thanks for being part of the discussion.

That's a lot of coffee...

Why I think the Olympus OM-D, EM-5 is making so many waves.


You would think that, with the earth shattering performance numbers presented by DXO, that the Nikon D800 would be monopolizing the photographic conversation across the web-o-sphere but that's clearly not the case.  The camera of the season is the Olympus OMD.  But, in a disconnect, the cameras most existing professionals will use from now until the near future will be traditional, full frame cameras.  To be more precise, the overwhelming majority of existing professionals will buy and use the Canon 5Dmk3 and the Nikon D800 and it's because they have already bought into a commercial paradigm that is too scary for them to turn away from. And because they are not risk takers.

For the last decade the drumbeat of common knowledge has been to embrace two camera features:  One is the lure of full frame that came from not being able to buy cost effective full frame cameras from Canon until 2007 and not being able to buy any full frame camera at all from Nikon until the introduction of the D3 in 2009.  The other "must have" feature has always been massive resolution.  The more the better.  But crucially, for those with their noses pressed hardest to the paradigm, over 20 megapixels.

The reasons for this selection process are many but I suspect it goes back to the idea that being part of the pack is safer than wondering through the savanna alone. It also paid off in producing images that were high enough quality to pass the test for most clients, be they magazines, ad agencies or direct to businesses.  But part of the appeal is what always makes the Bell Curve relevant = most purchasers are not early adopters, are not on the cutting edge and seek the tried and true solution, vetted by the more adventurous. If they bought a Canon 5Dmk2 a year or two ago they would be able to tell clients that they were shooting with "an industry standard."

A current selection from the big two buys them the same cover.  So why all the noise about the Olympus?  I think that people have, for years, understood that it was possible to reduce the size, weight and costs of camera systems with new technology.  Nikon and Canon had lots of legacy lenses in the pipeline and a leadership position in large sensors so it didn't make sense for them to embrace new lens mounts and new camera sizing.  Olympus tried to compete with their four thirds cameras but their dependence on a moving mirror technology meant that the cameras couldn't be reduced in size enough to make a difference when viewed next to their competitors.

By removing the mirror altogether Olympus could now make (in the micro four thirds space) a line of cameras based around a much smaller lens mount.  That meant the cameras could be much smaller too. And the actual lenses.

The first few iterations were aimed in the right direction but issues abounded.  Especially for professionals.  The lack of a built in eye level finder meant sacrificing the hot shoe in exchange for viewfinder usability.  The focusing was too slow.  The response of the cameras was slow for professional work.  And the sensor they were using in the EP1, EP2 and even in the EP3 didn't perform at the level of the their APS-C competitors.

The demand for a small camera was clearly there.  At least for a huge number of non-professionals who didn't need big bodies to impress clients, giant lenses for sports magazine work, or the safety of the herd mentality.  The ones who would embrace a great, small camera system were the same ones who restlessly rotated between Panasonic LX-5's,  Canon G12's, Leica X1's and a series of small interchangeable lens cameras from Olympus, Panasonic, Sony and Samsung.  They were all looking for the same thing:  A cost effective package that, when used well, would create the same kind of results, on paper or on screen,  they were getting from a Canon 7D or a Nikon D7000 but in a smaller package with much smaller lenses.

Last year was a turning point for the micro four thirds systems.  Part of the momentum in their direction was created by the introduction of four new lenses that the segment desperately needed.
The Olympus 12mm 2.0 and 45mm 1.8 added critical focal lengths and lens speeds the market had been asking for.  The 25mm 1.4 added the normal lens mastery (hello HCB) that had been missing and the announcement of the 70mm f1.8 by Olympus signalled that they were committed to making serious camera equipment again.  Deep breath.

When the OM-D hit it became an instant hit (back-ordered everywhere) because of three critical features:  A set of lenses people wanted, at one third the size of similar lenses for traditional digital cameras.  Very fast and sure autofocus.  And the image quality that the market had been demanding.  The camera now achieves an image quality at parity with it's similarly priced competitors. And that is it's most compelling new feature.  Parity.

The market wanted the size reduction.  The market wanted the cool lenses.  The market wanted fast and sure autofocusing.  But they were not willing to give up perceived image quality of existing cameras in exchange for the benefits of the size and weight reduction.  When Olympus removed IQ barriers all of the other features were unleashed to become market drivers.

While people can argue the relative merits of OVF versus EVF for as long as they have breath, the tipping point for the entire mirrorless catagory is the adaptation of high quality EVFs.  It is so for Sony, Panasonic and Olympus. And, as the fastest growing category of serious cameras it will drive EVFs into the other segments of the market at a much greater speed. The EVF makes all the cameras all terrain photo tools.  From high sun to no light.

The OMD is nicely designed and feels good in the hand.  The finder works well but it is not this camera per se, that is moving the market, rather it is the confluence of technology, the desire to physically downsize systems and the desire to lower costs that make the camera an important mile stone.

Another aspect that is rarely mentioned is the relatively open standard of the lens mount.  Something that is not currently lost on Canon users.  I've read statements by quite a number who would like to get into the Nikon system in order to leverage their perception that the performance of the new D800 is a must have for their market niche.  The barrier is the need to totally exchange all of their Canon lenses for Nikon lenses.  They will lose money.  And, sadly, when Canon comes out with their 54 megapixel, full frame camera in a year or two the same users will lose money switching back.  If you limit your system choices to variants in the micro four thirds segment you can freely invest in bodies from different makers and still use the lenses you've selected.  And, for the most part, they will be lenses optimized for the sensor size.

The reality as I see it is this:  Most of the cameras on the market right now, that have recent sensors of 16 megapixels and more, will do a good job creating the files we need for most of our uses.  In web advertising, most print, all newspaper, high res monitor display, etc. the 12 megapixel cameras dating back to the Nikon D2X are all perfectly capable.  The newest cameras offer lower high ISO noise.  Fees are flattening for most professional work.  It could be because people's approach to photography is pretty much homogeneously aligned.  (and that is not necessarily a dig at the capabilities of the photographers as so much work is driven by client desires, comprehensive layouts and expectations.)  It could be because of market forces.  But clients now understand, perhaps better than their suppliers, that tour de force photo tool inventory isn't nearly as important as it once was and, that by any measure  even the less expensive tools are of such high quality today that, practically, they are interchangeable.

Once professional photographers catch up they will return to the time honored marketing tradition of selling their personal vision instead of their technical inventory.  At that point they'll consider the same cameras that their hobbyist counterparts are embracing today.  And for all the same reasons.

It's good to remember that in the age of the Nikon F2 and the Canon F1 that the most popular professional photographer tool was the Nikon FM or the Canon AE-1.  Both were small, light and capable. Neither were originally aimed at professionals but were quickly adopted for many of the same reasons m4:3rds is in ascendency today:  Smaller, lighter, easier to use, cheaper and just as good image quality.

The Olympus is selling like hot cakes not because it is so good (and it is a very good camera) but because it represents a tipping point into a sea change of camera buying by most serious amateur photographers.  The fact that it has been anointed by no less than DPR is a testimony both to the camera and also to the prescience of the uber-marketers that the dam has indeed broken for a whole category and that the lines between camera types are being erased.

If you can't imagine them prying your hands off your "full sized" body or your eye from your optical viewfinder, and you can't imagine not hearing the clickty clack of your mirror banging around as you shoot photographs then you may be the newest iteration of all those people who, in the early part of this century, were still resisting any experimentation with digital imaging and  predicting that it would be years at least, and maybe decades, before digital technology would be as good as film......

The OM-D is the lighting rod.  It's the shot over the bow that says this (the sector)  is both good enough and, in many ways, better.  The real alternative?  Big ass medium format.  But that's a whole nother blog.

The traditional, big DSLR?  Quickly becoming the Firebird Trans Am of an older generation.  Wearing their Members Only jackets and revving up their engines... While the world drives by in a Prius.  Or, are you still using your Motorola Brick cellphone instead of an iPhone?

Finally, everyone I know has asked if I have an OMD, if I have one on order, if I'm getting one from somewhere.  And if not, when?  The reality is that while I like the camera just fine and would love to own one I'm intrigued by rumors of a new Panasonic GH3.  I'm still having fun with the Sony's and I'm in no rush.  It's all fun.

Additional reading: http://visualsciencelab.blogspot.com/2012/01/its-new-year-im-playing-with-new-camera.html