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Canon 400mm f/5.6 ‘L’ lens – Part II

Simply the best 400mm lens I have used.

Refer back to Part I for the design and handling aspects of this lens.

Now for some pictures. These were snapped with the camera/lens mounted at the lens ring on a Bogen 2016 monopod, one of the greatest bargains for any photographer. The monopod is fitted with a Manfrotto QR head, another tremendous bargain. Absent use with the very fastest shutter speeds, a monopod, as a minimum, makes great sense as it eliminates vertical movement of the camera. The long tube of the lens, with its attendant high turning moment of inertia, reduces rotational movement. That leaves fore-and-aft movement, something that can be greatly reduced with a solidly planted, wide legged, stance and support of the long end of the lens’s barrel with the other hand. Remember the lens has no IS – a shame, but that would add $500 and 8 ozs to the price and weight. I can live without it.

These snaps were easy. I drove 21 miles west to California’s wonderful Highway One with the sun having a couple of hours of gambolling about left, before its date with the far east. Early and late light always conveys the best drama. Add a lens that is inherently dramatic, and the rest is easy.

ISO was set to 400 for shorter shutter speeds. All snaps were underexposed by 1.5 stops, as these late lighting conditions are simply an opportunity for highlights to burn out with the 5D’s sensor. Underexposure and a little use of the ‘Shadows’ slider in Aperture makes for a far better dynamic range. The aperture makes no difference to resolution with this lens – the aperture controls only light and depth of field. Definition remains unchanged. Meaning superb.

All pictures were processed in Aperture, meaning RAW conversion and default 5D sharpening settings. The lens does not need additional sharpening, unlike its two Leica predecessors. Focus was automatic, with a first pressure on the button locking the central rectangle focus point, pending recomposition. Forget matrix focus and all that marketing gobbledegook – there is so little depth of field at short distances that critical focus must be on the key part of the image – meaning the eyes, where animals are concerned.

First, driving north on One, a quick stop at Moonstone Beach to catch the pelican doing his thing. This one is actually one half of the image, cropped for drama. So it’s as if I used an 800mm lens here! You can’t tell – there is no grain with the 5D’s sensor at ISO 400.


Pelican at take-off. 1/1500th, f/8

10 miles further north, just past Hearst Castle, is Elephant Seal Beach and a stop to enjoy sunset with these big boys was just what the doctor ordered. Just stay upwind of these fellows if at all possible. The lens is completely flare free, even directly into the sun. And who said fish don’t make you fat?


Elephant seal pup. 1/180th, f/8


Elephant seal. 1/250th, f/8

Finally, with the sun three-quarters of the way down the horizon, driving back home, Hearst Castle glows in all its splendor. This one had the camera resting on the car for support.


Hearst Castle at sunset. 1/180th, f/11

The striking thing about this optic is that, for the first time in my experience with a 400mm focal length, absolutely no excuses need be made for micro-contrast. Meaning the resolution of fine detail with high contrast is equivalent to a fixed focal length prime (OK, excluding the lousy Canon 20mm!). That statement alone should have you rushing to your favorite vendor to buy yourself one for the holidays. Sure, you may only use it a few times a year, but when you do …. Wow! Canon’s megabuck f/4 and f/2.8 optics of like length may be better, but at that price I neither care nor propose to find out. This lens is a stunning bargain.

Canon 400mm f/5.6 ‘L’ lens – Part I

First, the ergonomics

Ergonomics are vital to all effective machine design and nowhere is this more true in photography than with really long lenses. The user is already confronting slow apertures and a high risk of camera shake. A poorly handling lens does nothing to help.

So in this first of two parts (the second will deal with performance) I take a look at my latest Canon lens addition, the 400mm f/5.6 ‘L’ telephoto which I have been using for a while now. And let me start by saying that I have not used a lens of this length with better ergonomics.

First, a few notes on my long lens history. I started with a 280mm f/4.8 Telyt on a Visoflex II mirror housing mounted on my Leica M3. An ergonomic nightmare. The big glass front elements of the lens were so heavy that the brass focusing collar would bind if the front of the lens was not supported. The collar was also very small, the lens had neither auto focus (this is 1975!) or an automatic diaphragm, overall contrast was low dictating the use of contrastier grades of printing paper and, well, it’s a miracle I managed to make any good photos with it.


Hyde Park, 1975. Leica M3, Visoflex II, 280mm f/4.8 Leitz Telyt, Tri X

Later, when the Leicaflex SL came along, it was joined by an 180mm f/3.4 Apo-Telyt R. Great if not superb ergonomics, more than made up for by fabulous optics. This is the lens Leitz designed for NASA for use on space flights. It shows.


Lake Elizabeth, 1995. Leicaflex SL, 180mm f/3.4 Apo-Telyt R. Kodachrome 64

Later, I added a 400mm f/6.8 Telyt which was a fine, if failed, attempt at improving the ergonomics of long lenses. It was very long being a true long focus lens rather than of telephoto design, unscrewed into several pieces and came with a weird shoulder mount (redesigned many times, all awful) which would connect to the base of the lens with the stock for your shoulder, like with a rifle I suppose. So time consuming to set up and so impossible to carry around, I never used this add-on contraption. Focusing was original too, using a sliding trombone mount locked with a small button on the side of the lens. Remarkably effective as long as the slide had fresh grease. The maximum aperture was slow at f/6.8, resulting in a very light lens which was always used at full aperture – not least because the lens lacked even a pre-set diaphragm. Click stops only. It had but two elements and lost definition off axis quickly, but the center was dead sharp and the results satisfying.


Hearst Castle, 2006. Canon 5D, 400mm f/6.8 Telyt, monopod, ISO 400

But my latest long lens journey bears documenting, if for no other reason than that someone has finally got the ergonomics as right as they can be on something so ungainly. The Canon lens I am writing about has been around for ages and ages, but this is my first experience with a fully automatic 400mm lens.

Who needs a 400mm lens? Well, the fellows at sports events for one. Intrepid wildlife snappers and paparazzi swear by them. I am none of these. However, for landscapes, there is nothing to beat them for drama and impact. And I photograph landscapes.

I sometimes think Canon must have two lens design teams. There are the geniuses who design the wonderful optics and mechanics of their big guns and their ‘L’ glass, and then there are the guys who couldn’t make it in the bean counting department and were relegated to the sub-basement, only to churn out truly awful cheap zooms and ultra wides.

Looking at the long focus lenses in Canon’s catalog, you gets lots of choice in the purportedly better ‘L’ glass – with a 100-400mm zoom, the 200mm f/2.8, two IS-equipped 300mm optics (f/2.8 and f/4), no fewer than three 400mm choices – f/2.8 IS, f/4 IS DO (non-‘L’) and the f/5.6 non-IS. At 500mm there’s an f/4 IS and a 600mm f/4 IS monster rounds out the range. Most of these run well into the thousands of dollars.

Unfortunately this lens adopts the garish cream coloring seemingly de rigeur for the polyster set to whom nothing matters so much as displaying their possessions. Don’t wildlife photographers just hate this? The lens has no IS but is small and light instead, in as much as any 400mm lens can be thought of in those terms. Add a monopod and a quick release tripod plate and you have a very effective combination which can avoid the worst of the shakes. It bears emphasizing just how long a 400mm lens is – any shake is magnified eight times compared to a standard 50mm optic. The grain free nature of the 5D’s full frame sensor goes a long way to beating the shakes by simply cranking up the ISO to 400 or 800. That makes for short shutter speeds.

Why is this the best 400mm I have used from an ergonomic standpoint? Simple. First the autofocus is deadly accurate (when used with the center focusing rectangle in the 5D), it is super fast and no focus collar (Did I get that right? Maybe a little more this way? No, maybe the other way?) twiddling is required. This is a good thing as the longer you have to hold any heavy lens at eye level, the more fatigued and unsteady does your hold become. Secondly the lens is auto aperture permitting full exposure automation. Finally, for its length it’s compact, coming in at 10.1″ long and only 2.8lbs in weight. (Compare with the 16″ or so inches of that f/6.8 Telyt). That weight is perfectly balanced on the 5D and the lens comes with a superbly designed tripod collar – more of this later – and a (not so superbly designed) built-in lens hood. The latter is a pain until you get the hang of it. It’s nicely flock lined and is pulled out and rotated counterclockwise (and counterintuitively) to lock. The front of the hood is cleverly surrounded with a rubber protective ring. Try to collapse it and you quickly learn there’s a right amount to rotate it clockwise before trying to slide it down the barrel. A click-stop or two would have been welcomed here, Canon. New price is some $1,100 but I bought mine mint, if used, for just under $900. Check the used listings – these come on the market periodically and most seem to have had light use. I would definitely avoid pros’ beaters. Mine came with the tripod collar and expertly designed pouch, both standard with the lens.


Perfect balance at the tripod mount on a Canon 5D

This flock-lined tripod collar is a true masterpiece. The knob operates a short-throw cam to lock the collar in place after clicking it onto the lens. The click-lock is bypassed on removal by turning the knob CCW then pulling gently. No force is needed to lock the ring and it remains very stable in use. I have fitted a Manfrotto QR plate to the foot for quick mounting on a tripod or monopod.


A design masterpiece – the locking tripod mount ring

As an added feature, if you want to use the tripod collar on the 200mm f/2.8 ‘L’ it fits perfectly, so long as you reverse it to clear the camera’s front escutcheon when mounting the lens. This provides a far better mounting point for the front-heavy 200mm lens compared with the one on the 5D’s baseplate. Stress, of course, is greatly reduced also.


Tripod mount ring mounted on 200mm f/2.8 ‘L’, reversed to clear body

Snugging up the collar is easy with the generously sized cammed knob provided. This is a magnificent piece of engineering design clearly thought through by a real photographer-designer.


Top view. The ring is snugged up when the line is aligned with the focus indicator

The focus range switch purportedly makes for faster autofocus when set to the narrow range. I cannot tell the difference and simply keep it on the broad range setting. In either case, the focus is blisteringly fast. This is not your grandfather’s Leica Telyt! Given that focus can be locked with a first pressure on the shutter button, I have yet to use manual focus, though it has to be said the focus collar is very smooth and devoid of any of the raspiness afflicting Canon’s garbage non-‘L’ zooms – you know, the ones from the boys in the basement.


Focus range amd auto/manual switches, just like on the 200mm

Canon did not stop there. They did the case right. Instead of some dumb drawing room display tube of shiny leather (thank you, Leitz Wetzlar – ‘Echte leder’ as they used to proudly claim) they give us something in pure vinyl (the better to ward off rain and much harder wearing) with an ingenious velcro plus 2 linked zipper flap design which really works. The case needs a shoulder strap to make sense (buying an oversize camera bag to accommodate this monster does not) but, boy!, does it work!


Canon’s bag easily accommodates the quick release plate from Manfrotto


Ingenious double zipper opens velcroed flap for quick lens removal from the LZ1132 case

In Part II I will take a look at performance in the field with some snaps to illustrate. Suffice it to say that if my specimen is typical, you should be rushing out to get this lens if the need dictates.

Classics

The soul of the machine.

What is it that makes a machine a classic? For that matter, how do you define classic?

Well, it has to have class. I can’t define that but I know it when I see it.

It must be superbly functional.

Its use must be second nature.

It must have magic. Yes, that sense of fitness for purpose you get when you pick it up, use it.

It must be made well enough to survive the ravages of time and use.

It must be reliable.

For as long as I can remember, I have used a classic. No, not the Leica, that was sold a while back and yes, it was and remains a classic. The one I continue to use daily is the Bic Cristal ball pen.

A classic if there ever was one. 5D, 85mm.

I was reminded of the sheer genius of the Bic Cristal’s design (it used to be just a ‘Bic’ until newer, poorer variations came along) when my last one, above, got dangerously low on ink. The local office supply stores no longer carry it. Clerks, when asked, return the question with a vacant stare. How can this be? Here’s a device whose hexagonal barrel fits the hand just so, cannot roll off a desk, is clear so you can see the ink level, writes for ever without leaking and comes with a push on cap that, while easily lost, cannot possibly fail. The only moving part is the tungsten carbide ball tip. Anyway, I got on the web and tracked some down in Chicago. The order will likely last me until I’m six feet under, pushing up the daisies; meanwhile, you can bet that some accountant at Bic will make sure it’s discontinued because the profit margins don’t work.

In the internal combustion world, motorcycles have given us but three classics – the Brough Superior, the Vincent and the BMW air cooled twins.

In cars, the VW Beetle and the Porsche 911. Utility and purpose combined. The Mini was chic but a passing fad. No classic.

In camera design there are as few classics as with pens, bikes and cars. Indeed, give me just about any modern camera, or pen, and I will turn right around and either sell it or give it away. Not much out there with the sheer design genius of that Bic.

But I’m lucky to have owned a few. Heck, no, not lucky. I sought them out.

The Leica M2, obviously, preferably with a 35mm lens. An instant classic whose beauty and functionality defined the 35mm film era and while the functionality died with film, the beauty remains. Many refer to the old screw thread mount Leicas as classics but they are nothing of the sort. Poorly made compared to the M2, a truly awful viewfinder, a rangefinder almost as bad and the inane two shutter speed dials. Rube Goldberg would be proud.

The waist level Rolleiflex. About as clunky and strange a design as you could conceive of, but it worked, was near silent, delivered large sharp negatives and was lovely to behold.

The Crown Graphic. Nothing too subtle here, but it worked, made enormous originals yet folded into a small box. And you could fix it with a Swiss Army knife when it went wrong, which wasn’t too often.

And then you come to digital which, after ten years on the market has not come remotely close to producing a classic. Maybe that’s because the rates of change have been so high during that decade that no one has come up with a stable, survivable design. Maybe no one ever will? But do I ever think of my two digital cameras – the LumixLX1 and the Canon 5D – as classics? Not remotely. When they fail or get materially improved, they will be discarded just like that Bic.

But the Bic will remain a classic.

This lot should last me.

Failure rates and fraud

A trip to the dentist gives a pause for reflection

What have my teeth to do with photography?

Let me start with a recent couple of incidents which caused the needle to spike on the Pindelski BS meter.

I have my teeth cleaned every six months. I don’t know why it’s every six months. Maybe it should be a year? Two years? I floss twice daily, adhere to high standards of dental hygiene and try to preserve that most important of tools for success in America, a beautiful, toothy smile. I live with the six month frequency as it seems to me the related check-up will disclose any problems in a timely manner. The cleaning, on the other hand, seems like a waste of time and money, even if it makes me feel holier than thou.

On a related topic, I take my dog to the vet annually for his shots and they assure me he is in great shape. Like a cold nose in the leg every morning didn’t already tell me that.

Now both these ‘professionals’ tried to rip me off last week. The dentist decided I needed to come in every four months. The vet said the dog needed biannual check-ups. When asked why, neither could provide a reasoned, objective, statistical argument supporting their views. Rather, I got the usual BS about “We feel that….” and “In our opinion….”. Notice how fraudsters and monarchs (same thing, really) default to the first person plural when they mean ‘I’. A simple, if naive, attempt at the power of agency. If it’s ‘we’ then more than one person must be in on the decision, right? And who are you, Mr. Layman, to question us professionals? Further, whenever I hear the words ‘believe’, or ‘think’, or ‘in my opinion’ my default conclusion, absent evidence to the contrary, is that the speaker is either lying or ignorant.

This technique is most commonly used, of course, by car mechanics, the medical profession and every scumbag salesman in insurance. Fear sells. It’s why some believe in God absent no credible scientific evidence to support their delusion. It’s the ultimate fear sell. “Buy insurance (make a donation) now at the Temple/Church/Mosque because one day you will need it”. Each is levering the consumer’s ignorance to tack on gratuitous bills. “Trust me, your engine will last longer on synthetic oil” (even if it means I can charge you four times as much). Zero objective statistical evidence on that one, by the way, unless you believe the stuff the oil companies put out. “You need an annual check up” (even if I disclaim all liability for missing the golf ball sized cancer on your head). Statisticians are wise to these games, of course, and the smarter ones are publishing refutations of these frauds by the medical profession (whom you thought you could trust) and the car mechanic (whom you know you cannot trust).

The bottom line when it comes to any sort of insurance is, in the words of a great US President, “Trust but verify”.

So if the current weakening US economy is the true source of these fraudulent attempts at revenue enhancement (dentists, vets, doctors and car mechanics have sub-prime loans too), some consideration of failure curves is in order. Which is where the photographic bit comes in.

Those who are in the machine sales racket will tell you that preventive maintenance is de rigeur. But think a moment about failure curves and you will see that machines fail most often when very new and very old. One of the greatest frauds in American retail sales practice is the ‘Extended Warranty’. It’s offered on every car, computer, camera, gadget, you name it, on sale in the retail world. Doctors, of course, offer no such warranty on their work and neither do dentists. There’s too much money to be lost. But the retail vendor knows the consumer is, for the most part, a blithering idiot. He knows if that new camera is to fail it will do so right away or thousands and thousands of pictures later. Any failure in the first year (the highest risk one) is covered, free, by the manufacturer’s warranty. The late one is irrelevant as the extended warranty will have expired. Meanwhile the sucker who has just paid the extended warranty premium has contributed a like amount of pre-tax net income to the seller. Sweet!

Think it’s trivial? Let’s check the B&H website. These estimable, honest folks are not above capitalizing on victims of American public schooling (mathematics is not on the curriculum). Can’t really say I blame them – it’s a for-profit business, after all. Too bad I cannot buy their stock.

Here’s the warranty they offer on the $2,200 Canon 5D body:

Here it is on the $1,059 Canon 24-105mm L zoom, a natural partner for this body:

Now given that these are statistically computed premiums which assure the seller maximum profit, we can glean two things from the amount. The 5D is more likely to fail (the premium is 5.9% of the selling price) than the lens (3.8%). OK, so how likely is that failure?

If I was in this protection racket, I would expect to clear a 75% margin. For every $100 dollars of revenue a net profit of no less than $75. Now when that 5D blows, it’s going to be something big – the mirror fails, the motor burns out, the meter goes kaput. A $1,000 repair, but $750 to you, Mr. Retailer. So every 5D failing because of manufacturing error (use, of course, is not covered) costs the writer of the insurance policy $750. So if I want a 75% margin, the failure rate of Canon’s 5D can be seen from this Excel spreadsheet – I have used the Goal Seek function and show the input box for the variables:

Stated differently, for the policy writer to make his 75% annual margin, he can sustain no more than one claim for every 69 cameras sold.

Or, looked at from the perspective of the user, there is a 1 in 69 chance of the camera failing in the three year extended warranty period. And you are going to pay $129.95 to protect a 1 in 69 chance of a $1,000 cost?. Let me put this politely. If you answered ‘Yes’ I am going into the warranty writing racket.

You want the numbers for that fabulous Canon 24-105mm L zoom? Assuming a $375 repair cost to the insurer, the result is 1 in 112. I repeat. 1 in 112.

When did you last bet on a 1 in 69 or 1 in 112 long shot? Because that’s what you are doing if you buy an extended warranty on your photographic gear.

So next time you are encouraged to have preventive maintenance on your car, body, teeth or camera, or someone tries to sell you an extended warranty, do the math. The rational amongst you will keep the money every time. The others need to beat a path to Pindelski Warranties Inc., cash in hand. And the smart ones will, of course, run the camera until it drops because that’s the lowest cost statistical probability.

Is there ever a set of circumstances under which a warranty makes statistical sense for your 5D? Check this database of shutter lives and you will see that the average life to failure of the Canon 5D’s shutter is some 217,000 actuations. Over 4 years (the extended and basic warranty periods in aggregate) that translates to 1,043 snaps a week. So, if you are a pro banging away at a higher rate than that, consider the warranty. But check the fine print. Chances are that professional use is not covered ….