Why do I still have warm, fuzzy feelings about the old Nikon D700? I guess it's because the photos I shot with it eight years ago still stand up today. Can't say that about some other cameras I've bought....

New Pix at Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kirktuck/

One of the most fun photo assignments I've done for Zach Theatre was a season subscription brochure shot back in 2008 or 2009. We photographed the actors who were going to be cast in different productions and the marketing team let me decide how to light them and how to design their looks. I wrote about it in a very early blog post here: Hot Lights. Fun Lights. I used a Profoto Tungsten light in a beauty dish pounding photons through a 72 by 72 inch scrim to light my subjects. As an afterthought I wrote about the camera I used to make the shots. Just so happens that it was a Nikon D700. Lost to the sands of time and memory is what lens I used. Looks like a 105 f1.8 to me... 

I remember that we shot on a Saturday and that my art director/friend/theater marketing mentor, Jim Reynolds, loved it when I shot more frames. We photographed six or seven actors that day and probably went through 500 shots per actor to get just exactly the right photograph for Jim. The camera never missed a beat and probably made it through that shoot with a battery and a half (not that Nikon was ever in the business of making half batteries). I guess I was so confident in what I would get from the D700 that it was barely a footnote in the original article. The files were like butter to edit. The skin tones fell right into place and the tonality was perfect. I've shown these photos over and over again and I love the look and the general file characteristics. 

But what about MORE MEGAPIXELS????? It never came up. The files worked flawlessly and transparently as printed pieces on glossy paper at 10 by 13 inches (CMYK Offset Press) as well as on life size lobby posters. No glitches, no issues with the super big enlargements. I grabbed one of the files from an archived DVD yesterday and played around with it in the current revs of PhotoShop and Adobe Raw and I'm able to make even better files today. The software got better and can do more complex processes with the files (Something I am certain camera makers DO NOT want you to ponder.... as in: "Was my 2008 camera's primary limitation just the processing software of the time???? What would happen if I used the most current version? OH MY GOD, IT'S BEAUTIFUL!!!! IF I'D ONLY KNOWN").

I moved on from the camera (big mistake) because I thought I needed a more sophisticated (and quieter) shutter and more resolution. I could not have been more wrong. I just needed ten years of software improvements.

The final image I'm showing here was done in the laundry room of a wonderful and beautiful five million dollar, west Austin home. We needed a nice laundry room in which to make this photo of a spirited kid grabbing his teddy bear from a gas dryer. It was part of an ad campaign for a Texas utility company. This one photograph could have paid for a bag full of Nikon D700s. And it was done with a D700 camera and a small European flash system. I loved what I could get out of those cameras then and love the files even more now. We have other cameras. They are each good, in their own way. But there's something very cool about the D700. Ah well. 

OT: Sunday's with Kirk in the Kar.

My Dad. A couple years ago. At Cappy's Restaurant in San Antonio.

Sundays have followed a very familiar pattern this year. I get up and pack a small camera bag. I put into it cameras I might use if I have time to stop and do some street photography. I never do. The bag also gets a phone, some eyeglasses and a checkbook. We all walk the dog together in the early morning and then I get into my car and head for IH-35; the most direct route to San Antonio, Texas.

The drive can be quick and efficient. Today I covered the 78 miles, from door-to-door, in about an hour and fifteen minutes. Sometimes the drive can be excruciating. One day, because of a series of accidents and one construction detour, it took over three hours to cover the distance. Music helps after the Sunday morning radio shows on NPR start to merge together in my consciousness.

When I get to San Antonio I head to the big H.E.B. grocery store near my dad's place. If you are from Texas you more than likely shop in a neighborhood H.E.B. or grew up shopping with your parents at one. I drop by the store ( A huge Texas chain) to pick up a copy of the Sunday New York Times and a small bag of Hershey's Kisses (milk chocolate: traditional) because my dad has been reading the NYT for nearly 60 years and has probably been eating Hershey's chocolates for even longer. I also stop at the H.E.B. to use their toilet; a vital step given that I leave Austin with a large coffee in the car's cup holder and by the time I get to San Antonio it's all gone...

Some days, I also pick up a package of Depends (adult diapers) and some antiseptic wipes, just, you know, in case we're running low at my dad's place. I show up at the front door of his deluxe (and brutally expensive) memory care facility most Sundays (traffic permitting) by 11:00 am. I get buzzed in then sign into the guest book. I glance through the pages of the register to see who else has been by to visit my dad in the last few days. I'm always hopeful I'll see my older brother's scrawl on one of the pages. Sometimes it works out.

I head down the hall and knock on dad's door. He's generally in his favorite, big upholstered chair. Sometimes he's listening to classical music on his Henry Kloss radio. Sometimes he's napping. I check in with him to see how he's doing. He still remembers me without hesitation but his memory is fading fast. My sister called to tell me that when she visited recently it took him a while to understand who she was.... Memory loss and dementia is a long goodbye...

We get down to business and I tell him how he's doing financially. He likes to hear the current investment strategy and how it's working. He's always happy with the results. While we talk I check his closet and his dresser drawers to make sure the facility is up to date with dad's laundry. He likes to look professional even at 90 years old. Even after being retired for decades. Although we'll probably never use them I keep several of his business suits and even some formal wear in his closet. You never know. And I think knowing the suits and pressed dress shirts and ties are there makes him feel better. Somehow still attached to his previous life and work.

On good days we go for short walks around the (very nice) facility. He introduces me to the staff members whose names he can remember, sometimes explaining, as he has for the last 30 Sundays that I am his son and I've come by for a free lunch. Around noon one of the staff drops by my dad's room to let us know that they are serving lunch. The food is really, really good. The soup in the first course is always exemplary. There are always fresh flowers on the table and linen napkins for our laps.

Everyone who lives in the facility is about dad's age. Some are a few years younger than 90 and a few are even older. All are living with various conditions that rob one of memory and cognition. About half the folks come to our dining room (higher functioning residents) with the aid of walkers while the other half come in wheel chairs. There is one gentleman who still walks without mechanical assistance and my father takes pride in getting around with just his wooden cane. The same one I got for him when he had a knee injury twenty some years ago.

Dad and I sit at the same table, with two other people, on each visit. One of my favorite tablemates is a woman who is always smiling and positive. She sometimes asks me a number of times during the meal who I am. I always smile and answer the same way. The staff brings each person the soup of the day to start. Then they bring two "show" plates by the table so the residents (and their guests) can see what their choice of entrees will be. Today we had a choice of chicken breast or pork loin, each paired with two fresh vegetables. We all swear that my dad is eating in a healthier fashion than he has for years. Dessert today was a small fudge brownie with walnuts; finished with a swirl of whipped cream. Delicious.

After lunch we'll walk out into the enclosed and landscaped courtyard and dad will tell me disconnected and oddly conflated stories that mix memories from his childhood with random conjecture and repetition. I listen with rapt attention and agree with everything he tells me. I have learned to distract him from subjects that upset him and deflect his attention to other topics. After a while we go back to his room and he settles in with his music and the fresh NYTimes and there's a moment when I can tell he's ready to slow down, take a nap and push the company out the door. He's always been happiest spending time reading, alone.

We make small talk and I remind him to have one of the staff call me if he needs anything. Anything at all. This week he let me know he wants a haircut. There is a barbershop on the campus; over in the assisted living wings. One of the staff will take him over in a wheel chair and wait with him while he gets his hair cut. There will be a charge on the monthly statement from the memory care facility for the barbershop. I've stopped even looking at the bills. At 90 you should be able to do exactly what you want. I don't worry about the money. It's there. He and I can afford it.

When I leave his room I'm exhausted from the energy it takes to always be positive; always smile and to be present in a way we never really were when my mom was alive and ran the show. Before I leave the facility I stop by the nurse's station to ask how his week was and how his vital signs look. I also want to make sure he's not giving them too many problems about taking his medications. I say "goodbye" to the staff whom I've come to admire for their infinite patience and care, and sign out, heading for the car.

If it's been a long day and I haven't been sleeping well I'll stop by a Starbucks in the neighborhood and grab another cup of coffee. Then it's back to Austin. I'd stay and shoot some images but it's hard to change mental gears so quickly and then I never really know how the traffic will be on the way back. I'm also trying to take care of myself. Part of that is making it back home in time to get ready for my own job tomorrow, to take Studio Dog out for another walk, and to have a nice, quiet dinner with my own small family.

I can say with authority that the traffic coming back into Austin will be brutally slow and stupid. I used to link up my phone to the bluetooth in my car because one or the other of my siblings would always call and want to get "a report" about dad from me. They know my schedule too well.

Since I own my own business the siblings equate what I do with "being somewhat retired" and they imagine I have loads and loads of time to spend managing my dad's finances, legal stuff and healthcare through the week, with ample time left over for the Sunday visits. I started to get the feeling that I was reporting to my "bosses" (and I've never really had a boss before) and this left me feeling a bit unsettled so I've just turned my phone off and tossed it back into my camera bag for the journey home. I generally send a group text when I get home with a synopsis of the day and week. I try for transparency without judgement. Sometimes they just get transparency.

When I get home it takes me some time alone to get back into my own rhythm. I carry a certain amount of worry about my father throughout my waking hours. There is an inevitability about his eventual demise but knowing that doesn't assuage my persistent feelings of responsibility, and a bit of dread. Ah well. I hope I'm setting a good example for my own son.

Speaking of the boy!!! As you may know he's graduated from college and has been searching for, and interviewing, for jobs. I'm pleased to announce that he got, and accepted, an offer on Friday. It's a great job in public relations for a large San Francisco firm with an office here in Austin. The job has stuff we freelancers have never experienced!!!! Such as paid health insurance, dental insurance, a 401K with a match, a parking place in the garage, and an office in a downtown high rise. After accepting the offer the firm asked if he'd like to fly out to S.F. on Monday to meet the H.Q. team. Youbetcha. I'll be dropping him off at the airport tomorrow morning at 5. We're very excited for the boy but he seems to be taking it all in the same calm stride with which he navigates most things in life. Yes, millennials do work!

Well, that's how I spend Sundays. Me, the car, and my dad. Sometimes it seems like a duty but mostly it seems like a nice opportunity to spend time together. I don't leave him until I see a smile...

Hope your Sunday is equally interesting and well spent.

So, you've decided to go retro with a Nikon D700 but you don't like my suggested 2nd lens choice. Well, maybe this one is more your style.

shot with a Sigma 60mm f2.8 DN at f7.1 on a GH5 body. 

Nice set up for products. 

I'm not much of a wide angle lens fan but two recently purchased lenses have gotten me further and further into the tar pit of shorter focal length image-making. Both are zooms and neither would be my primary recommendations for a third, bargain lens appropriate to match up with a "minty" used, decade old, Nikon D700. But both encompass a range that covers approximately 16-28 (or more) and when I use them I find myself gravitating more toward the longer end of their range. When I check the lens information I find that my super wide angle zoom lens usage falls into an equivalent of 28mm at least half the time. (One of the zooms is the Tokina 16-28mm f2.8, which has its flaws but can be a sharp, fun lens when used with care. The other is a much better behaved lens; it's the Panasonic-Leica 8-18mm f2.8-4.0 zoom. It's quickly becoming a favorite for establishing shots for videos when using the GH5!).

But I guess my point is that when I do use wide angles, unless I am constrained by my ability to back up, I end up in the 24-28mm range much more often than not. With that in mind, and wanting a compact and fairly light single focal length lens for those times when two pounds of zoom seem like overkill, I starting researching and testing the various 28 and 35mm lenses in the Nikon mount. Remembering back to the film days my first thought went to the 28mm f1.4 D lens (ultimately fast and sharp) but a quick check revealed that the current used price for that lens (with a glass aspheric element) is currently hovering around $2100. That one immediately fell off the list.

I narrowed my choices down quickly. I owned both of the 28mm f2.8 AF lenses and they were both ho-hum performers. Nikon figured out how to make their AF lenses a bit rattier and probably much cheaper; at least in this focal length and speed. The manual lens pictured here is the 7 element Ai version. The two AF-D lenses were: five elements in the first iteration (which was widely disparaged) and six elements in the second version (which was a bit better). The manual focus lens in this range that is widely believed to be one of the best is the Ais version of the above, (manual focus) lens which trades the 7 element construction for an 8 element design. It's the best of the 2.8 bunch.  I couldn't find one in good shape for a good price and so I compromised and went with the original Ai, 7 element version. Wide open the newer lens is supposed to be marginally better, in terms of overall sharpness and contrast, but by the time you hit f4.0 the differences shrink down to the point where only the most compulsively ardent lens analysts think they can see a difference. And then it's mostly at 300% magnification.

The model I bought (7 element Ai)  is in great shape and features a silky smooth, long throw focusing ring which makes it a great candidate for video as well as regular photography. I paid a whopping $125 for my copy and have used it often for location/industrial work. It doesn't flare, is scary sharp by f5.6 and better than just "usable" when used wide open.

The 28mm focal length makes a nice half of a two lens kit when paired with an 85mm. If I were specifically looking for a second lens to pair with the 105mm f2.5 Nikon lens I guess I'd be looking more for a 35mm focal length (so the gap between lenses isn't overwhelming) but so many of the zooms I already own cover that focal length nicely so I'm sticking with the 28mm.

Small, light, sharp, wide enough and dirt cheap. That makes it choice number three in my budget, full frame, retro kit. You could do a hell of a lot worse.

Find a used one at Amazon (or elsewhere).

Once you've gone Nikon-Retro what is your second lens choice? What would you pair with your D700?

A Fairly Modern Copy of the Timeless Nikon 105mm f2.5 ai Lens.

Here is where I'll lose a huge swath of photographers whose focus is on landscapes and street photographer versus portraiture and detail work. If you are one of the lucky VSL reader who just got your hands on a new/old Nikon D700 (or D3, D3x or D800 of any flavor....) you might be wondering about which lenses to pair with your new and wonderful camera. Especially if the Nikon world is new to you...

Yesterday I made the argument that the first lens most people should consider would be the 24-120mm f4.0 VR zoom lens. It's wide focal length range, high sharpness over most of the frame, and its very good image stabilization make it a really good all around choice for such a wide variety of situations that I think it doesn't require much deep thought to appreciate its value. But what comes next?

Well, a prudent business person could probably stop at the 24-120mm zoom and get most of his or her work done without having to invest another cent in lenses but I know most of us aren't wired specifically for practicality; and that the lure of the lenses is

You went retro and bought a Nikon D700. What's my recommendation for a great first lens?

By: KirkTuck.com Austin, Texas. 2018

If you read the blog you'll know that I've reached back in time to cherry pick few really good cameras that Nikon made and to use them for much of my still photography work. I've written a bunch about one of my favorite cameras, launched in 2008, the D700, because it seems to me to be a wonderful blend of compromises that led to a camera of high reliability, great mechanical performance and speed, and it has a sensor that delivers 12 really good megabytes of resolution along with some of the best color performance and tonality I've come across in cameras; at least since the days of the Kodak professional cameras...

In the last few weeks there has been a run on good, clean, used D700 camera bodies as people snap them up and discover which part of the compromise equation they may have missed out on due to their allegiance to a certain camera conception or mythology. For example, one friend never shot full frame before. When they came to digital photography they embraced the basket of compromises and features (light weight?, small size?, good video?, good stabilization) that micro-four thirds cameras offered and rejected other options. Now they've decided to experiment with a different format and a different basket of compromises and, most would agree, that older full frame cameras flooding the markets right now can be a bargain. Certainly, the expense of $500 for a good, used imaging tool isn't going to break the bank; and if the new adopters decide the added weight, the moving mirror --- with its attendant noise and vibration--- and the lack of in body image stabilization isn't the balance they most enjoy they can easily sell the camera back into the market without much, if any, loss. They will have only really lost

Getting ready to teach a workshop. Practicing on a few private workshops first.

Kirk and Josh at Red Rock in Colorado, taping one of the Craftsy.com classes. 

This one was about Family Photography.

When I worked with Denver based Craftsy.com to create three different online classes about photography I learned a lot more about the best methods to teach technique and photographic concepts. The need to perform for video cameras and to work to a loose script added a bunch of new skills to my teaching knowledge base. I'd taught workshops before but having the cameras there, auditing my every word, made me work harder to hone the expression of the concepts into easily learnable chunks of good information. 

I wasn't a total newbie at teaching since I'd taught photography classes in the College of Fine Arts at the University of Texas at Austin a number of years ago and have kept my hand in the teaching part of photography with a number of daylong classes that teach very specific lighting and camera skills. But being on the "other side" of the cameras makes you really tighten up the way you convey ideas and information, and reinforces the need to keep your audience engaged. 

I'm teaching a workshop in Iceland this Fall and I'm already going back and practicing my teaching skills so I can give our students a great experience by delivering a lot of good information, and demonstrations, in the most efficient (and fun) ways. To do this I'm setting up a video camera and microphone and taping myself presenting various teaching segments. Using the video I can see where I become bogged down in an explanation and I can go back and work through it until I can make the concept sticky and learnable. 

I'm also teaching private, half day workshops for more advanced photographers who want to concentrate on specific parts of their photography that they'd like to improve. I put together  four hour modules with theory, demonstrations and then hands-on practice. At the end we look at the results and do a critique. The private, half day workshops are $650 and we fit them around my commercial photography schedule. We're already booked up for all available slots in August so we've stopped taking new students for now; we'll see what September looks like.

I'll be doing a "warm-up" event in Marfa, Texas near the end of September and I'll be taking along a couple of models to work with while I'm there. The goal is to get more and more fluid with my teaching. I've long stressed that fluid camera handling comes only with daily practice and, to a certain degree, it's the same with teaching photography. It's nearly impossible to drop in cold and do a great job. Teaching well means planning and testing your methods. I'll have more details to share later but the Marfa event will be a workshop for a very limited number of people.

All of this is to get ready for the Iceland workshop on the 27th through the 4th of November. If you are going to photograph with me in Iceland you deserve my best work as an instructor. I'm excited about the trip and have dived into some deep research about all the places we'll visit so I can help everyone get the best possible photos. If you are interested there are still a few slots available. You'll need to get in touch with Craftours to join in the experience. I'm sure we're going to have a blast. Bring some warm clothes, and your favorite cameras and lenses, and lets make incredible photos!

Thanks, Kirk

When do I need more? Why should I shoot with the D800e instead of a D700? Do Megapixels Matter Anymore?

Texas Hwy. 165. Nikon D700. Nikkor 35-70mm f3.5 ai lens.

I got curious about how people are using their cameras these days. Back when the megapixel race in DSLR cameras really took off (2004-2013) a lot of well-heeled photo enthusiasts were coming to the market having learned their skills making photographs of film, and, more importantly, sharing the results almost always on prints. If you remember the early days at the crest of the impending acceleration from 2 megapixels to 4, to 8, to 10, and finally to 12 and 24 megapixels the internet was still mostly molasses slow and there weren't anywhere near the photo sharing sites available, or even accessible, to most. I mean, really; think about it, Instagram didn't launch until late 2010 and back then it was limited to cellphone users. In the early part of this century people were carrying over practicing from shooting film and having prints made.

That's why the early years of this century were the boom years for ink jet printers. People thought they still would be sharing via prints and for the first time they had access to their own wide carriage color printers at affordable prices. We all printed. I printed on printers that I converted to pure black and white inks and I had an unstable genius printer for color in the (never reliable but sometimes brilliant) Epson 4000. That rat bastard of a printer seemed to require a big gulp of pricey ink to clear clogs before almost every printing session.

After spending thousands of dollars on ink and paper and many more thousands of dollars worth of time I suddenly realized that prints were no longer important to commercial photographers. I only wish I'd paid attention to the signs a few years earlier.

But as long as we continued to accept the printed print as the gold standard of photography the stridently defended need to put high resolution down on big paper drove us mercilessly to assume that more detail in a camera sensor was always a better thing.

So, here's the funny thing; as far as I can tell people are printing less and less each quarter. I talked to a couple national labs and their sales have been flat, kept alive by lower and lower per print prices and more product extensions (photo books, coffee cups, refrigerator magnets). It's unusual for me to meet a commercial photographer who is still feeding his ink jet printer for anything more than printing a portfolio and almost every aspect of sharing and utilizing photography has rushed to the web. We can thank iPhones and Android phones for training a whole new generation in a whole new way to enjoy/use/share photographs.

And, of course, with ubiquitous sharing on phones and a general decline in detail intensive final usage the rationale for ever growing megapixel counts is falling apart. It's pretty easy for me to see that while current cameras can beat the crap out of lower resolution, older cameras they seem to have gained resolution by shrinking pixel size and lower color discrimination. Basically, it's harder to do Bayer overlay screens as the sizes drop and it's harder to deliver convincing color too. So we were willing to give up very pleasing color in order to look more closely into pores on people's skin. But now we're sharing on laptops and phones and no one sees the detail with the same rabid compulsion as the small cadre of large screen pixel peepers who seem to be aging out of the market altogether.

Someone had it right once upon a time. It may have even been Ken Rockwell. They posited that with the exception of traditional, large four color printing and giant wall photos the majority of people could buy a six megapixel camera and be happy forever. For aspiring pros and ardent (non landscape) hobbyists I'd realistically put the number at 12 megapixels. For the nervous, and those unsure of their own skills the safety blanket metric might extend to 20-24 megapixels. Anything above that and you go into weird trade-off world. If you think you need more pixels then you might as well also step up your search for the ultimate lenses. You'll need them in order to see any difference at all.

I've been going back and forth between the D800 series cameras and my two D700 series cameras and my color/file/look preference lies with the D700s. The D800s are really good cameras and they resolve more than I usually need, but the D700s generate files that look like what I think photographs should look like.

I know this is pie-in-the-sky wishing but I would love to see Nikon come our with a camera that uses the absolute latest BSI chip technology on a sensor that's only 12-16 megapixels. I'd love to see just how well they could deliver perfect (happy) color in the files. And I'd bet we'll still be able to make good and convincing prints when we need to. You know, to show the hard core.

Looking Backward When It Would Be Smarter To Look At Now and Plan For The Future.

Two Friends at the Studio in Westlake Hills.

It seems that most artists with a growing body of work have a tendency to look backwards at what they've done instead of paying attention to the moment in which they exist now. If we've gotten praise and nice reviews for certain photographs we've done we tend to have a prejudice toward showing those to clients and friends and allowing the positive feedback to keep us closer to the worn path of making the same kind of work; hoping for the same sorts of accolades. But if we are to grow and continue to be relevant in our circles or marketplaces it's vital that we continue to move forward with our visual work.

I started out the month determined to mine through all the good work I have done in the past 30 years with the goal of making a printed portfolio that would showcase it well. My logic was that the pieces I was choosing were "proven" winners, and they would ensure successful portfolio shows. But, of course, I ran this idea past my in-house "focus group" and the "new hire" suggested that I made my choices not because they would necessarily appeal to a current audience but because I was predisposed to keep the photos in the portfolio because I had adopted an affection for the work and I was "rooting" for its continued popularity so strongly that I had lost my objectivity about the work's relevance to an ever changing audience. And audience that decidedly doesn't share my long history, my understanding of the arc of photography or even how difficult it was to do technical work at a high standard back in the shrouding mists of time.

My young mentor suggested that a portfolio that would be most effective today would reflect the age, tastes and milieu of the present, not represent milestones of one's personal career from the past. "That" he said with a certain degree of astringent kindness, "Is what museums are for...."

I realized that he was right. Right on the money. I look at the image above and I see it through goggles of sentiment. The woman on the right was my long time (brilliant and supremely capable) assistant and the woman on the left was one of our friends and favorite models. I am always predisposed to enjoy looking at their faces. The image was shot on black and white film and souped by me, by hand, in our darkroom; which I also remember too fondly. The final print represented lots and lots of time spent in that darkroom, bathed by the red glow of the safe light (actually the orange/yellow glow of the sodium vapor safe light....), listening to old Joni Mitchell C.D.s and breathing in the acidic bouquet of fresh stop bath (glacial acetic acid).  A lot of work went into the image but no one besides me sees or intuits the hours spent making the image come alive. 

I looked through the other prints I'd selected for the portfolios and had the bittersweet epiphany that my insightful guide in this process had clearly identified my overwhelming marketing problem: I was stuck in the past. My goal, as he explained it, should be to start working more, as I did when he was growing up in the house, and watching the parade of projects and people flow through the studio. By doing more work I would, he suggested, create a much needed and ever growing inventory of more modern images. Images that could be more technically polished by a blend of the thousands more hours of experience I'd accrued since doing the older work coupled with the ability to more completely polish each image via higher quality camera output and the ultimate flexibility and control of PhotoShop. 

But most importantly I would be creating images that will be accessible to the buyers and users of commercial photography, in the moment. 

It's good to have people who are willing to help you make honest and effective assessments. It sure can't hurt.

A Silly Lighting Solution Done Mostly Just to Do it.

Shower heads. 

I was photographing at a Spa out near Lake Travis when I came across this shower room, just off the massage area. I wanted to shoot a close up with the water running and I wanted the light to come from below and really accent the water stream. I thought about it for a few minutes and then it dawned on me that with little LED panels I could put the lights anywhere I wanted them. 

I stuck them on the floor, directly under the water streams, but first I stuck both of the LED panels into plastic bags. With my camera on a tripod I could select any shutter speed and aperture combination I wanted so I tried to find one that isolated the shower heads from the background without completely obliterating the background. This is the image straight out of camera and I'm sure we prettied it up a bit in the post production but it was a lot of fun watching my assistant's face when she realized I was going to subject my lights to "water torture." 

It's not the first time we've stuck lights in odd and wet places. A few years back we were photographing a zero edge swimming pool at sunset for an architecture magazine and we sealed portable flashes, equipped with radio triggers, into several layers of Ziploc(tm) plastic bags and tossed them into the pool for more illumination. It all worked out well. I did have to jump in and retrieve the lights at the end of the session but I never seem to mind getting in and out of swimming pools....

Here's what our BHS lighting looked like in the shower...

And here's the pool shot:

OT: Life is all about making choices.

Les Miserable. Zach Theatre.

It seems fashionable these days for bloggers to share their weaknesses, addictions, foibles and idiosyncrasies. I think I'm generally transparent enough for most of my readers to discern that I'm indecisive; long term, and too decisive; short term, when it comes to buying cameras and lenses. What seems like a brilliant strategy in the moment seems like a blunder when I look at the long game. I think you can also tell that I can ignore logic, in the service of immediate gratification, better than most. Otherwise I'd still be shooting with the two Canon 5Dmk2 cameras I bought nearly ten years ago, along with the selection of lenses which, in hindsight, I did not appreciate enough. Those cameras would have  served me just as well as the never ending conveyor belt of new camera models and brands I've dallied with over the years.

Maybe worse than others I subconsciously believe