Photographs, Photographers and Photography

If only ….

Which of us (us as you are a photographer if you are reading this) does not rue the what might have been?

You know, the moment that you missed.

The other day I found myself on one of those picture perfect days in America’s most beautiful city, camera in hand, and there it was. The picture.

But, boob that I am, I missed it.

Too old, too slack jawed, too slow.

I would love to blame the gear. Shutter lag, poor auto exposure, blah, blah, blah.

But age or equipment is no excuse.

Because, dear reader, I have been missing great snaps since I first held a camera. And the curse of it is that I can remember every one of those misses. Far more so than I recall the successes.

And while my interests in photography are fairly catholic, meaning genre is neither here nor there, it’s street photography that brought me to this wonderful place and it was a street snap that I missed.

My excuse is that I was simply in the wrong mindset for street work. Upset about this and that. Distracted. None of this conducive to street snaps.

In the studio you bang away and sooner or later get it. Still lives always behave. Landscapes are tricky but lighting generally gives you a second or two. But street snaps are the most unforgiving of taskmasters. Miss one and it never comes back. It is gone. For ever. Except in your mind’s eye, which vision you can share it with no one.

But that only means I will be back. I’m no quitter. But I am upset.

The city? Why, San Francisco of course.

So, much as I hate to do so, I’ll share one of the also rans with you.

No, it’s not in Lens Work

All those free magazine subscriptions I am enjoying, courtesy of too many frequent flier miles on Delta, are beginning to be a mixed blessing.

First, two of the original twelve never arrived, yet Delta’s computer wrote me a polite note explaining they were no longer offering those, but please choose three more to make things hunky dory.

Then Condé Nast, whose splendid ‘Portfolio’ I am enjoying immensely, wrote with a free subscription to ‘Preservation’, a National Trust piece, and it is proving to be every bit as enjoyable. The current issue has a fine illustrated piece on Route 66.

So I’m seeing some fine photography in all of these, with none better than that found in Elle and Harper’s Bazaar. The latter is especially noteworthy for the cutting edge of their photographers’ work. Take a look at Peter Lindbergh’s superb portfolio of Julianne Moore in the current issue, interspersed with the great classical paintings (Modigiliani, Klimt, Schiele, etc.) which inspired the piece. It really seems that a high percentage of the newest, most exciting work is to be consistently found in fashion magazines – something I have been seeing since 1960 as a subscriber and well before that when perusing back issues at the local library.

Once place where you will rarely find good pictures is in photography magazines. Pseudo art for pseudo photographers invariably, of course, in tired old, over-processed black and white, masquerading as ‘art’. Large format, a beer belly and the obligatory artist’s beard are de rigeur for these pretenders, known largely only to those obsessed with gear and processing. It has to be black and white, you know because the people on display are clueless when it comes to seeing. They need the benefits of abstraction which monochrome confers, so limited is their skill and imagination. Why do these technicians – for they are rarely much more than that – always look to me as if they could use a good bath?

For more, just check in to Pseuds Corner.

Finally, once done, I have to schlepp all the magazines I’m done with to the curb every Tuesday, for recycling. Boy, do I miss the time when we just chucked stuff out and the hell with recycling and the sanctimonious green lobby driving around in SUVs (invariably emblazoned with a ‘Keep Tahoe blue’ bumper sticker). At least I tear out the really good work first as my nod to the environment.

Film really is dead.

From a recent reader’s email:

“I noticed on your last upload that you used a Mamiya for that particular photo – I’m experimenting with film myself recently as I’ve never owned a decent film camera until I bought a used eos-3 a few weeks ago. I’ve only shot digital since becoming an enthusiast, but because my camera is not full frame I don’t enjoy the full benefit of my wide angle lenses. Let me get to the point, where, in your opinion, is the best place to send film for processing and scanning? What is the best film to use?”

My reply:

“Clean negatives/slides:

Despair at getting clean processed negatives was just one of the reasons that drove me to digital, so I really cannot recommend a good place. Most seem to walk on your negatives with hob nailed boots before packaging them.

Film quality:

a – Slide:

In 35mm slides nothing beats Kodachrome for image quality but it’s rapidly dying and only one or two places remain that process it. (B&H in NYC send theirs to A&I in CA for processing – A&I has a good reputation but they are not cheap). Plus it was discontinued in 120 size a few years ago. Further, as Kodachrome (like most monochrome films) is a silver-based emulsion, scanning with dust removal software is impossible so that’s another strike against film. So if you see reference to technologies like Digital ICE, they will not work on Kodachrome, smart as they are.

b – Negative:

In color negative I found the best 35mm combination of fine grain and color palette was in common or garden Kodak Gold 100, available in any drug store. In 6×6 and 4″ x 5″ I used Kodak Portra and loved it. These are 100-160 ISO, so not good for low light use, but perfect for landscapes and skin tones. Fuji is a mighty competitor and while I never used their emulsions they would not survive if they were no good. So I doubt you will go wrong with any of the better offerings from Kodak and Fuji. With the exception of Kodachrome all color films (and many so called chromogenic monochrome emulsions) are dye based and work with scratch and dust removal technologies incorporated in many scanners. If you value your time, delegate the scanning. Once ICE is invoked, scan times double and quadruple. Life’s too short.

I have heard good things about Scan Cafe but have no personal experience of their service. They offer ICE.

Film is dead:

By all means enjoy film but I would advise against any serious investments in film gear as film really is on its last legs and you will be left owning useless paperweights. A cheap Leica/Hasselblad/Nikon/Canon film camera without film or without anyone to process the film properly is useless, if pretty to look at.

The Mamiya snap I uploaded was one of the last few taken on film …. there’s no going back for me. Properly processed digital is superior to film in every possible respect, IMO, and I would rather you looked at investing in a good full frame digital (used 5Ds are becoming attractively priced, as one example) or some ultra-wides for smaller sensors than that you went to a near-dead technology. I’m just telling it the way I see it – as an amateur user who makes big prints for display. Viewers don’t care what you used – film or digital. It’s just that digital is so much less hassle in every possible way, so there’s less to get in the way of a good picture.

And trust me on this, no one can tell the difference between properly exposed and processed film and digital. It’s just that digital needs a different approach to quality from film. I have had people write me telling me how much my film images have a greater look than digital ones. Considering they are looking at a 640×480 pixel image on a poorly adjusted computer monitor, that opinion is simply worthless and not a basis for rational comparison.

Film is dead will raise your blood pressure if you are a film aficionado!”

Life is short. Don’t waste it processing:

In other words, the only people getting into film cameras today are either hardware collectors or cranks. Those who continue using them place little value on their time or their balance sheet.

Film or digital. You cannot tell and I’m not telling either!

Sell the film hardware to Japanese collectors (can anyone remember a good Japanese photographer since Hideki Fujii and Kishin Shinoyama in the 1970s? No, because they all collect gear instead), pay someone to scan all your old stuff and move on. And get a life.

No, not pants, dear!

Just in case you though this piece was about our philandering ex-President (that’s ’serial pant dropping’, if you don’t mind), well, I’m sorry to have to disappoint you.

Rather, this little note is about my sadly all too common habit of dropping my cameras.

The first, and still most painful drop, was of my Kodak 620 Brownie, a gift from my parents around 1958, when I was seven. After conception and birth this was the best things the old folks ever did for me. I adored that camera, my first. It was a (very) poor man’s imitation of a Rolleiflex twin lens reflex, and for some obscure reason known only to Kodak, took 620 film, in preference to the more common 120. The only difference was in the spool fittings. The negatives were 6 x 6 cm from both. Well, she came crashing down to Mother Earth one spring morning when, rather than attend boring old school, I high tailed it to Holland Park in Kensington to run a roll through her.

Now while plastic predominated in the make up of this fine piece (the only visible metal was the ‘folding’ aluminum hood for the waist level viewfinder – ‘waste level’ for obese Americans) it was no less sickening a sound when her baseplate contacted cement on the Park’s main avenue. Being British the Park had been properly paved in Victorian times and remained so to that sad day. After all, this is a nation whose Mr. Crapper gave us the flushable toilet. Tidiness is important to Empires.

The damage, it transpired, was what I would later come to call ‘non functional’ – like America’s Energy, Foreign and Fiscal policies. The chipped piece of plastic that gave its life actually did its job protecting the film chamber opening knob. That is good design. The greatest damage was to my pride.

My little half frame Pen F, the Kodak’s successor, had its moment of pain in St. James’s Park, that most civilized of London’s open spaces. There’s perhaps no finer place to be on a spring morning, provided you can actually find that scarce event – a sunny day – lost somewhere in England’s May climate.

She visited gravity soon enough, but mercifully the ground was fine British soil and the only broken bit was a viewfinder eyepiece. Must have been that first bounce and the rock …. When I sold her (believe me, no one would ever accuse the Pen F of being a ‘he’) I cheerfully disclosed the event and that actually helped seal the sale, cracked plastic and all.

Given the number of Leicas I have owned, their drop rate has actually been surprisingly low. Let’s see, at one time or another there was a IIIA, IIIC, IIIG, M3, M3 DS, M2, M6, SL, R4, another SL – yes, I think that’s about it. And only one drop for one of the screw mount cameras. A 10% drop rate as we SDs like to call it. (By the way, screw mount Leicas are feminine, their bayonet mount successors anything but). This one was nasty as the camera fell on the baseplate edge. Extrication of the Leitz (not so) removable film cartridge involved pliers. You really do not want to know. Leitz replaced the cast body and I declared bankruptcy soon after.

The digital age was no excuse to cease pursuit of Newton’s Laws. Our lovely little Olympus (at least it seemed little ten years ago) D340 had its date with destiny a few years back. Being Japanese with all those smart rubber seals and shock-absorbing casings, it picked itself up, dusted itself down and was good for the best part of another decade. All 1.3 megapixels. We finally honorably retired that charmer a couple of weeks ago. Not unreasonably, she said ‘No more!’. And if you want to extend the gender comparisons to current Japanese manufacturers’ progeny, Olympus cameras will always be feminine and Nikon’s pride could only be masculine. The rest are asexual).

The 5D and the Lumix LX-1 have been lucky so far, but that’s no guarantee. We serial droppers rarely relent. Stay tuned.

So I proudly dedicate this piece to all of you droppers out there. Like that pant dropper of yore, I feel your pain.

A thematic approach blends discipline and goals.

A goal oriented life may not be a happy-go-lucky carefree one, but it is consonant with success.

I have found this to be as true of photography as it is of any other field of human endeavor. Love, money, possessions, family – all benefit from goal setting.

The photographic high point of 2007 was, for me, my one man show at a local winery. As a result, I have many of the framed pictures from that show hanging on the walls at home – many more were sold to happy buyers. The thematic goal of that show was that it would only include landscapes of subjects within a 50 mile radius of our central California home and, with that theme in mind, it took one year to take and make the pictures for the show.

Now, one year later, I am getting bored with those pictures. So a new theme has to be decided on and expressed in photographs. I have no idea yet what that should be, but as I am not tied to any particular genre of photography, I will look for something alien to me and bang away to see what comes up. Maybe it will be close-ups. Or night scenes. I have no idea.

One thing I am quite certain of, however, is this. No goal means no results. Just wafting about in the hope of capturing a good snap now and then is a waste of time – one of the biggest knocks against that old saying “always carry a camera”.

And no deadlines guarantees no results, goals or not. So I need to get this done by the end of the year.

Moonstone Beach, CA at low tide. Mamiya 6, 75mm, Kodak Portra. A direct result of thematic goal setting.

Things I don’t need.

This column is total fluff. Light, airy, inconsequential. I just finished my tax return so I’m entitled to some fun.

Our 2007 income tax returns. Time for another bloody revolution, methinks.

A Toy is, by definition, something you don’t need. For some that means a fancy car, for others a fancy woman (or man). For many it’s electronics gear which, I suppose, largely covers modern photographic equipment. High cost is not the sole qualifying attribute for a Toy, either. To be a serious Toy the object of desire has to be used rarely, if at all. And it helps if it looks great. Whether Ferrari or Swiss Army Knife, utility value (both, let’s face it, are quite useless) is not a qualifying attribute for the Toy list.

Now I try to look at the toys in my life objectively from time to time to decide whether I really can live with having capital locked up in them. Toys, for the most part, are not things you buy for capital appreciation, which makes them a depreciating asset. I don’t like that aspect.

Indeed, After the Purge, I have few photography Toys left. I have told myself that when it comes to the photography world, most of the objects of my fantasies will remain just that. Life is too short for all that clutter.

Cameras? Call me a happy camper here. The Canon 5D is 90% of anything anyone could every wish for in a camera and mine continues to delight. The Panasonic Lumix LX-1 fills the other 10%. Would I like a Hasselblad H3D-39? Is the Pope a Catholic?

The Hasselblad H3D-39. No change from $34,000. And it’s made by Fuji, lenses and all.

Of course, I would have to throw in a few lenses to really make this fantasy gel.

And speaking of lenses, while I have just about every Canon lens I could ever want, none of these is exotic, so if you forced a 600mm f/4L IS USM on me, don’t ask whether I would return it. I would simply place it on the mantlepiece, never to be used. Instant Toy status.

The awesome Canon 600mm lens. Chump change at $7,000

I have always loved anything that said ‘Pentax’ on it and their range of fixed focal length lenses for their DSLRs is very tempting.

There’s a 21mm f/3.2, a 70mm f/2.4 and, my favorite, the 40mm f/2.8. All Limited, you understand. All total Toys.

The charming Pentax 40mm f/2.8 and its two siblings can be had for $1,200. Add another $1,000 for a decent body

The next choice is a bit odd, because I cannot even think of a use for it, but it’s…. a battery. There is no such thing as a useless Toy, right? When I got married a few years back the happy day took place at the 18th hole at Pebble Beach. A magical place, and I don’t even play golf! Anyway, as the (now) wife and I made our way to the Pacific, the photographer accompanied us and I couldn’t help noticing this totally macho thing dangling from his shoulder, like some kind of secret weapon. A moment’s discussion disclosed it to be a high capacity Quantum Turbo battery with some real oomph to keep the flash charged. Probably enough power to start a dead car, for that matter. I suppose I could always use it with my Vivitar 283 flash gun. Neat Toy, that.

The Quantum Turbo. $400 for a battery?

Ball heads come in all shapes and sizes. Indeed, the Novoflex 486RC2 is strictly practical and affordable (and I use a funky variant myself) and, best of all, it comes with a QR plate built in. All you need add is a plate for the camera and that tripod will come out of the cupboard and upgrade all your lenses into the bargain. A useful Toy, that one.

The Manfrotto 486RC2 ball head. A gift at $70.

Why no $1,000 carbon fiber tripod, you ask? Because it’s a hair shirt thing with me. If you are using a tripod you need to suffer. That’s the way I was brought up. Let me live with it, OK? I am sticking with my ancient, all metal, Linhof. The one with the cantilevered leg supports pinched from the Brooklyn Bridge. No, when it comes to tripods aspiring to Toy status, there is only one:

The ideal support for that Hasselblad, the $29,000 Sachtler System 75 Plus Pedestal

Yes, you read that right. $29,000. Probably made by hand by the last three German artisans on earth, in the Black Forest. Or maybe they are just the guys who apply the ‘Made in Germany’ label as the products makes its way to the western world from China’s factories?

I have used a Rotatrim paper trimmer for ever. The additional cost has paid for itself. The only problem is that mine is too small. Bought back in the days when I though 12″ x 15″ was large, now I increasingly find I default to 18″ x 24″. So a 24″ trimmer would be nice for the few times a year I curse getting out the straight edge and fighting with the blunt knife.

My ancient Rotatrim Mastercut II – made to this day. Wish I had the Big One!

The Rotatrim, as my mum used to say of Sheffield Steel cutlery, is British and Best. A product where form and function are one. I should know. I grew up with one of those deadly guillotine trimmers and thank my lucky stars that I can still count ten digits on my hands. But the Big One, which would hardly be used, is a total Toy.

Studio lighting? Well, sure it would be great if mine said Norman and allowed five snaps a second, but I’m more than happy with my small, portable Novoflex outfit and simply too fond of it, now that I know its quirks and preferences, to allow an impostor in the home. So you will not find studio lighting on my Toys list. Though I wouldn’t kick this studio gear out, if I had somewhere to place it:

The Manfrotto powered backdrop system. A total Toy at $1,900. Backgrounds extra.

What, you ask. No exotic Leicas on the list? Oh! please. Leica is so yesterday.

Now do excuse me. I have to check this weekend’s Ferrari listings.

A wealth of great thinking.

Tune your PC or Mac to the iTunes Music Store – or better yet direct your Apple TV there – and type in the key word “photo” and you will get a wealth of podcasts by famous writers and photographers on our favorite subject.

These are more easily found using Apple TV, one of whose best kept secrets is easy access to a wealth of free podcasts. You can also access these on your computer though it takes a bit more searching. Here, on my Mac, under Podcasts->Visual Arts, is one interesting area:

Some idea of the content may be gleaned from the following list:

Wait a minute. Aren’t many of those interviewed rock musicians? What would they know? Turns out the answer is “A lot” and when you think about it – these are people with well developed right brains oriented to creativity – it makes sense. Two interviews that I found especially interesting were with Graham Nash, who speaks of his photography collecting – and Mick Fleetwood.

I know little about rock but I am aware that Mick Fleetwood has held a famously dysfunctional and ever changing band united under the brand equity of Fleetwood Mac. No mean feat.

So it’s no surprise that one of the best bits of advice I have ever heard on becoming a better photographer comes from the lips of this rock survivor: “Just pick up a f*****g camera!”

A flash of color.

The Red Shoes, Panasonic LX-1, 28mm, f/3.6, 1/30, ISO 100

A flash of color on Montgomery Street in San Francisco.