Category Archives: Photography

Listmania

No, we are not talking about the great Hungarian composer/pianist

Humans love to make lists. Whether they are Democrats (win election, raise taxes, claim credit for economy), Republicans (win election, lower taxes, claim credit for economy), shoppers (butter, eggs, blame politicians for prices) or photographers (blame anything and anyone when the picture does not come out). Lists can aid failing memory or can force fulfillment of commitments. They can educate, cajole or just nag.

My list, as a photographer, is mentally revised from time to time, and focuses on The Most Important Inventions in Photography. It’s more fun, though, to write the list down as that makes for amusing reviews years later, generally accompanied with statements like ‘Boy, how dumb was that?’ and ‘What was I thinking of?’. So, as of now, here’s my list in attempted chronological order which, I’m sure, you will correct where errors are involved. Because list entries must have reasons, I have appended those also.

1 – Roll film, especially once unstable, combustible nitrate stock (great for making fuses for Molotov Cocktails) was replaced with inert modern plastics. Roll film made the camera both easily portable and capable of recording many images in quick succession, though you might argue the latter attribute was its biggest drawback, especially when you contemplate Gary Winogrand’s work. Credit George Eastman, Kodak’s founder, with that one, in 1888.

2 – Modern multi-element lenses that rendered most optical aberrations insignificant. Small film (see #1) means big enlargements, so optical magic was called for to allow reasonable enlargement of the images on the roll. Hard to date this one, but multi-element lenses were available well before roll film. You might argue that ‘modern’ really did not apply until anti-reflection coating (later ‘multicoating’) came along, or zooms, or aspherical surfaces, but I would disagree. By the time the Leitz Elmar and the Zeiss Tessar were commonplace in the 1930s, little was left for optics to improve, whereas film was continually improved until its demise a couple of years ago. So maybe circa 1900 for this one?


The personification of the 4 element, 50mm lens. After this improvements were marginal

3 – The coupled rangefinder. Now you could focus your small camera accurately, leaving only camera shake and bad exposure to mess things up. The idea came, like many good things in our lives, from the military, who used rangefinders to shoot at people more accurately, but some genius came along and linked the device to the focusing ring on the camera and everything was suddenly in focus. Probably around 1915, but it took until 1954 for the device to be perfected – meaning parallax adjustment and a super sharp delineation of the rangefinder patch which was finally integrated into the viewfinder. Contax had tried it in their 35mm cameras with mediocre execution. Leitz Wetzlar got it dead right in the Leica M3, then added perfection where improvements seemed impossible in the M2 a few years later.

4 – Kodachrome. A quantum leap in technology with an exceptionally fine-grained, fade-free emulsion. Make that Color Film. This one made big color prints from roll film cameras a possibility. While the product is all but discontinued, it can still lay claim, in its final iterations, to being the best color film ever. 1939 saw the first rolls for sale. With entrepreneurial insight that they sorely lack today, Kodak put up the cash for that one and it took two Jewish musicians to do the job. No one ever said that God apportions grey matter evenly across the world’s peoples.

5 – Automatic exposure. Search me who invented this but I do recall that one of America’s very early manned space shots saw the astronaut John Glenn take an automatic Minolta Himatic 35mm rangefinder point-and-shoot with him, so all he had to do was focus. Now only focus and camera shake remained to ruin a snap. No idea when this came about but I’m guessing in the 1950s or so.


NASA’s space camera before they realized how easy it is to milk the taxpayer for Hasselblads

6 – Autofocus. Now only camera shake remained to spoil the picture. My memory is poor on this one, but Leitz messed about with their Correfot system, originally invented by Honeywell, some time in the seventies, before ceding primacy to the Japanese. An invention of sublime subtlety, it may have caused as many wrongly focused pictures as ever there were before but at least the lens was focusing on what it was pointed at. Operator error remained a foe which modern face recognition technologies are trying to address. Never overestimate the intelligence of your customer.

7 – The digital sensor. Kodak again, in the mid-1980s. Though digital sensors predate Kodak’s first 1 megapixel sensor of that year, Kodak’s was the first practical use of the technology which would go on to kill its annuity income stream from one hundred years of film sales. I doubt this was the sort of creative destruction they were thinking of at the time. A few years later and most written communication would be obsoleted by image sharing.

8 – Anti-shake cameras and lenses. Now you had no reason for a bad picture. Other than your native talents. I have no idea who invented this but it sounds awfully like something the military (meaning the US military) would have built into its aircraft spy cameras. Now given our predilection for invading the wrong place at the wrong time, quite why the military felt it needed the attendant level of detail that anti-shake conferred upon its images is lost on me.


Canon’s 24-105mm L lens with IS

9 – Minituarisation. This one just sort of happened over the last one hundred years until we are now at a point where cameras cannot get much smaller owing to the finite size of our hands which, at least for now, we need to operate the camera with. The point and shoot pocketable digital camera is infinitely superior in every way to the 1901 Kodak, yet fits comfortably in your (designer) jeans’ pocket. Why, it’s almost as small as the Minox which predated it by some fifty years.


The palm-sized Minox spy camera

10 – The Internet. Well, I know who didn’t invent that one – that guy currently cleaning up on global warming. Call it the early-1980s. Now the audience for your pictures was expanded from those close to you to the whole world. And that may just be the greatest photographic invention ever.

Black and White is dead

Time to move on and get with the real world

My subscription to LensWork magazine – a bi-monthly small format photography magazine which holds itself in higher regard than the Kennedys – was up for renewal and, I confess, I thought long and hard before paying for one more year. The reason? Each 90 page issue is completely devoid of color photography. This is the oh! so serious world of High Photographic Art, you see.

Let me tell you that the leading contributor’s work over the past year was a book of pictures of tramps. Now a tramp is a tramp is a tramp; he is not a street person, a mendicant or disadvantaged. He is a tramp. No one forced this choice on him and he is neither to be respected or adulated. These tramp snaps were reproduced in volume (sadly, high volume) with obligatory excess contrast in search of drama. Now do you get the drift of this sometimes fine publication? The tramp series said absolutely nothing new and the use of Club Mono was, well, tediously predictable for such cliché subject matter. The sum total of photographic art was, in other words, untroubled by this derivative, poorly printed work.

So why waste money on a publication whose dominant content appears to be snaps of derelict steel and coal town in America’s Rust Belt, longing for the good old days of tubercolosis and black lung? Because, maybe twice a year, a great photographer is discovered in its pages. That almost makes the very high cost of this rag worthwhile. Take Dan Normark’s outstanding work as an example.

Anyway, putting my gripes behid me I renewed with the promise to the publisher/editor that this would be the last time if no color crops up in the publication over the next twelve months. One has to draw the line. And if they can do Club Mono so well, why not some color?

We live in a world defined by color. A lot of photographers, choosing the easy way out, opt for monochrome and then wax lyrical over how some ink jet printer or other has purer blacks and whiter whites than the other guy’s. Please. These people sound like a washing detergent ad. The result is that you see a lot of truly miserable work, matted in acres of white with the obligatory thin black frame, signed, as often as not, in pencil. The latter is mute testimony to the monochrome worker’s recognition that membership in Club Mono dictates this sort of thing if you are to be taken seriously.

So why are all these hard working photographers excluding 90% of the content of their photographs by making monochrome prints?

  • Because it’s far easier to take a good moochrome picture.
  • Because the man in the street can’t get it at the local drug store.
  • Because you automatically get the ‘art’ premium associated with this form of pretentiousness.
  • Because you have neither the talent nor guts to see in color.
  • Because color is infinitely more difficult to do well.
  • Because someone else who is ‘arty’ does it.
  • Because it worked for Ansel Adams and Bill Brandt.

And on and on. Not a good reason to be found.

Take a look at the current issue – #69 for Mar-Apr, 2007. There is a lovely set of pictures of Hanoi, moving and expressive. Some are of street scenes at different times of the year. They simply scream for color. But no. This is Club Mono.

So I’m voting with my feet. Add color, Mr. LensWork, or subtract one subscriber. And next time you see a Club Mono snap, just ask yourself how much better it would have been in color.


South Beach, Santa Monica, CA. Pentax 6×7, 105mm Takumar, Kodachrome 64

The power of RAW

RAW offers a vast range of adjustments without destroying image quality

Here’s a case in point where RAW originals really make sense.

I was traipsing along through the charming side streets of Burlingame in the Bay Area of San Francisco when this neat wall sconce presented itself. Now I did have Bertram the Border Terrier straining at the leash in the other hand, so I did a pretty lousy job of holding the camera level. Add the high contrast of the scene and I knew some post processing would be de rigeur.

Here’s the original – if this was a film scan it would be pretty much past saving, the highlights comprehesively blown out (not hard to do with digital!), the perspective badly in need of repair, everything tilted.


Wall sconce. Lumix LX1, RAW, 16:9 format

Rather than recount the adjustments made in Aperture at length, here’s a snapshot of what I did:

I also had to roundtrip the file from Aperture through Photoshop, where I fixed the lens distortion and perspective, tilting the top of the picture towards the viewer to correct for the low angle from which the picture was made; Aperture does not (yet) provide these adjustments.

And here is the result:


Cropped for 4:3 format

The highlight details (look at the textured stucco wall finish) have been nicely recovered with a combination of the Exposure and Highlights sliders. While Aperture does not support Lumix LX1 RAW, I used the workaround explained here to give me the full range of RAW adjustments.

The ‘repaired’ version will scale nicely to an 18″x24″ print, something you would not dream of doing with the original.

Formula One – Bravo Honda!

Can you think of a better use for photography?

Now it’s no great secret that I graduated from the same college as Colin Chapman of Lotus Cars fame – University College, London. Indeed, while I shared the education of Mechanical Engineering with that inspired genius, I never practised as an engineer. Not only was I far from Chapman’s class, it was just too hard a way of making a living, and too fraught with risk. In my case, I suspect, that risk would have gestated in the guise of serious injury to users of my designs. No, the engineering world became a safer place for my absence from it.

However, none of this in any way dilutes my interest in one of the only two sports I care about (the other is cricket), which is Formula One auto racing. The near senseless pursuit at vast expense of solutions to problems no one ever imagined has a certain perverse appeal, I must admit. Sort of like an expensive woman. You know you should know better. But you get involved anyway. When it comes to photography and Formula One racing, it has largely been a desert strewn with forgettable detritus. How many snaps of cars at speed and babes in tight tops do you really want? OK, I can do with fewer of the ones of cars at speed.

With the honorable exception of photographers like Jesse Alexander, little great photographic work has been done in this sport, despite the fortunes expended on motor drives and extreme telephotos. However, watching the 2007 season opener in Melbourne, in the fair land known as Australia, I was captivated by the new Honda car, which is devoid of stickers and sports a magnificently applied picture of the earth. The picture is from Honda’s web site, God bless them.

It gets better. Honda has offered to pixelate the names of the first two million donors on the car, so that you can honestly say you support the racing effort. And the money goes to saving the world. That’s a twofer. Rest easy, the boob who was one heartbeat away from the presidency a while back isn’t going to be stealing it, as he is not involved. Anyway, he’s too busy with cinema ticket sales.

I have always greatly enjoyed the huge pictures of produce on those delivery trucks and now Honda has gone one better.