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 is not a silver-based emulsion, scanning with dust removal software is impossible so that’s another strike against it. 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.

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, a second M3, an M3 DS, my beloved 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 9% drop rate as we SDs like to call it. (By the way, screw mount Leicas are feminine, their bayonet mount successors anything but). The M3 drop was nasty as the camera fell on the baseplate’s 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.