A fun, silly, crazy, wonderful afternoon spent at Esther's Follies; Austin's premier comedy and political commentary venue. Right in the middle of Sixth St.

"Would you like to come over on Wednesday afternoon and make many zany promotional photographs with us at Esther's Follies?" Yes. As much as I would like my bank to give me free samples of one hundred dollar bills. Esther's Follies is a comedy nightclub that's existed in the center of downtown Austin for over thirty years. Democrat or Republican, your party is sure to get equal time as the butt of a never ending series of skits, musical numbers, jokes and other forms of political commentary. But Esther's doesn't just do politics they also excoriate weird Texas stuff. They riff on Whole Foods Market and Amazon. They filet the latest Austin trend: Austin has become the #1 national destination for bachelorette parties. Imagine limos full of just post teenage brides-to-be and their entourages drinking until they throw up on their own shoes and then going back for more.....

In short, Esther's is bawdy, biting and right on target. The continuously funniest live show I've ever seen.  Just my cup of tea. I've been going to their shows for years and one Summer even did a Comedy Driver Training course there to get a speeding ticket expunged from my permanent record....

So, I've been photographing for their marketing materials almost forever; since the beginning of the new century, and I've always had a blast. These folks can bang out irreverent comedy at the drop of a hat. And they do it on a tight schedule with weekly additions and modifications to their routines. Some parts of their shows change almost daily!  I show up, set up three or four electronic flashes with umbrellas and sufficient kick to flood the stage with enough light to get me f5.6 or 7.1 @ ISO 400 and then we just sail through routine change after costume change and half the time I have trouble focusing because I'm laughing so hard...

Today I headed down to Sixth St. for a fresh dose of humor and photographs. I parked in one of the close by garages and dragged my equipment over on my multi-cart. I set up three of my Neewer battery powered monolights ( which kick out up to 300 watt seconds for 700+ flashes via their lithium batteries..) put a big umbrella in the light on the left side the stage, a medium sized umbrella on the right of center light, and another medium umbrella on the far right side of the stage. The main light comes from the big umbrella on the left and its monolight was set at half power. The other two monolights were set at one quarter power. Altogether they provided a nice wash of light across the stage with a bit of directionality. More importantly they froze the action and helped me absolutely nail the color balance.

I used one of the new Fuji XH1 cameras and the 18-55mm XF lens for the entire shoot. Everyone in all the different format camps can theorize about quality all they want but I know that when I zoom in to one hundred percent I'm seeing super sharp eyelashes and striations in the actors' irises, and I don't know how the troupe can use better than that. At ISO 400 the files (when shot correctly=exposure and color balance) are razor sharp and noiseless. 

The system nailed focus on about 98% of all 1200+ shots from our session. The 2% that weren't tack sharp were plagued by operator error as I laughed and waved the camera around instead of being tightly disciplined. It was a great way to get a large number of almost perfect shots in a short span of time. 

I was still laughing as I dragged the cart into the elevator of the parking garage.... too good.

If you spend much time in downtown Austin on weekends you'll not be able to avoid the onslaught of drunken bachelorettes. They're as invasive as electric scooters. I think Esther's has this particular subject matter down pat....

At the end of a marketing photo session we always do a group shot. Here's the one we'll use to start out the new year and the new season. A different way to shoot theater than the way we do it at Zach Theatre. Viva la Difference!

Let me tell you about shooting opera sometime......

A few thoughts about the Fuji 60mm macro lens. And a couple blog notes.

One the warmer days my boss let's me show up for work in

my authentic Austin uniform = shorts and sandals.

It got cold here. Then warm. Then cold again. I shot some stuff with an XE2. 

If my blog has seen fewer posts in the last two weeks it's because I am in something of a holding pattern. I'd like to get the year started and to dive in with both feet but my dad is not doing as well lately and I've been steeling myself for the inevitable. I'm visiting him more often, staying longer and also trying to get a myriad of little important details squared away. It's hard for me to start anything if I know I may have more important family business to take care of without much warning. My lesson here? Life seems short; live it well...

On a lighter note, I had a fun time a week and a half ago shooting behind the scenes images for Zach Theatre's upcoming production, Hedwig and the Angry Inch. During that shoot I leaned heavily on the 60mm macro lens, a lens that Fuji introduced back in its first generation of X series cameras. The focusing is a bit slower (helped a lot by the continuous image stabilization setting on the XH1 body) and a bit mechanically clunky but the images I got from the lens --- even wide open --- were very, very satisfying. Sharp without being exaggeratedly sharp. And the detail nicely rendered. For me, on the APS-C sensor Fuji bodies, it's just the right focal  length and also has the advantage of being relatively small and light. 

The XH1 and the 60mm are a great combination for the way I like to shoot portraits; even more so when I use the 1:1 crop in the camera, effectively turning the rig into a mini-Hasselblad 500 CM with a feel that reminds me of those old, square format film cameras but without the hassle of having to change film backs after every twelve exposures...

Daniel getting make-up for his role as Hedwig.

I got a call from a San Antonio advertising agency today. We started talking about a multi-day project for a services client in the south Texas regions nearly eight months ago. The project stopped and started several times last year but it looks like it's finally got legs. I'll be in San Antonio scouting on the 28th of this month.  The assignment requires me and my (occasional) video partner to shoot in a number of locations with talents at each location. We'll set up people shots with employees and customers engaged in various tasks and processes and get both still photographs and B-roll video in each set up. I'm bringing in a videographer because the pace of the job mitigates against doing the one man band routine. Besides, James is fun to hang out with and a much better video shooter than yours truly.

I'll shoot the stills with the Fuji cameras; probably just the two XH1's, and James will handle the video with an assortment of Panasonic GH5's, exciting new gimbals and our generous bag full of Panasonic and Olympus lenses. I'll bring a bag of flashes and also an assortment of LED panels. We're traveling only by car so we can bring as much photo gear and lighting stuff as we want!!!! 

Knowing that the client will also want wide shots of the facility interiors I decided to add a wide angle lens to the Fuji inventory (we already have the spectacular Panasonic/Leica 8-18mm for the video cameras) so I can get stuff at wider angles of view than those provided by my current widest angle lens, the 18-55mm. After a lot of research, and some discussions with smart people here, I opted for the Fuji 14mm f2.8. I know that it vignettes more than some reviewers might like but I also know that it's extremely sharp (especially in the center region) and has very low actual distortion. I'm sure the cameras will take care of most of the vignetting.  I agonized a lot about the various choices but my friend, Paul, the architectural photographer and friend of many years, convinced me that I'll never be comfortable with a wider angle of view and the I'll probably mostly be using the lens at f5.6 or f8.0.

The 14mm lens should be here this week and then I think I'll take a break from buying more photo stuff for a while. I'm trying to save up to buy another car. I want to keep up with Belinda! I have my mind just about made up to buy a 2019 Suburu Forester with all the fancy accident avoidance features. Maybe even leather seats. I've appreciated using the safety stuff and the adaptive cruise control (Texas is a big state) in Belinda's Impreza. I'm also smitten with the all wheel drive. But cars are a lot more expensive than cameras or lenses, and I hate the idea of car payments, so I'm economizing wherever I can...even checking for lost change between the couch cushions.

The assortment of lenses I've put together for the Fuji cameras is just about right. Down the road I may upgrade the longer zoom to the f2.8 model but I'm in no hurry.

I hope you are having a Happy New Year and blazing through your memory cards making art. 

Later.

Sometimes you have to go back and reconsider files from a job. With a little time it's easier to see how to make an image work.

I photographed this scene last Fall when I was totally immersed in a corporate project. The art director and I had gotten up early, driven like crazy people, met with a group of engineers and contractors and then followed them up dirt roads, cut into the sides of mountains, until we reached a spot where the consensus was that I might like the scenery. Yes. I loved the scenery. And I appreciated that we got to the site just as the weather was perfect. And I was even happier when the weather held together long enough to use the site to do nearly a dozen different portraits.

I'd more or less forgotten I'd made a photograph without people in it at this remote location until I was preparing files from that long and involved job so I could create an e-mail promotion about ---- making portraits on remote locations. As I looked through the folders this image stuck out to me specifically because it didn't have people in it. When I took it my intent was more or less just "visual note taking" and now I realize that it was a portrait of the location; the most important part of our canvas.

Another aspect of re-reviewing work done months before is that you approach appraisals of the file quality; the camera performance, with a more honesty. I've been toying lately with downsizing my collection of m4:3rds cameras and lenses but my review of not just this file but so many of the portraits convinces me that the work I've been doing with the Lumix G9 cameras, and the best of the format's lenses, can go toe-to-toe with just about everything on the market I've shot with. While some cameras obviously have higher overall resolution these cameras have wonderful color palettes and, when using a lens like the Leica/Panasonic 12-60mm f2.8-4.0 the system provides its dual I.S. which is head and shoulders better than any one else's image stabilization but Olympus. We actually ended up ditching the tripod after the first trip on this assignment.

As I sit here in my comfortable office I could rationalize using cameras and camera systems of just about any size and bulk. We forget about logistics of transporting all our gear when we're fantasizing about how that next bigger format may help us take better photographs. But when I look at my work from last Fall and remember how great it felt to be able to fit my entire camera and lens kit into a small backpack that could even fit under the torturous and diminished seats of a ragged little commuter jet I realized that getting to the locations I needed to and not having to worry about whether or not I'd have to gate check a camera bag, or pack full of the tools with which I make a living, added to the quality of my day to day life. It eliminated one recurring stress point.

But mostly I just like looking at this photograph and remembering how isolated, quiet and peaceful the location was for us on that Fall day.

Can a new camera or lens make you a happier photographer? I'll vote "yes."

A work photograph. One of those times when everything should be in focus.

Sometimes it works for me to separate out act of photography from experience of owning and using a camera. The more rational among us will choose cameras that are cost effective, fulfill some needed photographic mission, and are straightforward and logical to work with. Apparently, as people age, they also gravitate toward cameras that are lightweight and easier to carry....

None of this really enters into my eccentric process for seeing, choosing or buying and then using cameras. Sure, they have to meet certain minimum criteria; they have to produce salable files, they have to make photographs on demand and on my schedule, but as long as they check the right boxes for image quality and reliability everything else is more negotiable. But the one thing that's not really negotiable is that the camera be fun. Fun to shoot, fun to own and aligned with my particular nostalgia of what a camera should look like and how the physical controls should present themselves.

I'll be frank, I get a lot of pleasure out of owning certain cameras and also trying out new stuff that's well made. I'm sure my predilection for the craft of camera making is a hold over from having come of age in photography at a time when there were a number of different cameras made to the highest physical quality. From mid-century Leica M series cameras to titanium Nikon models to the stellar construction of the Hasselblad SWC series cameras, the bodies were made to be handled for decades and to be totally stable platforms for the films moving through them, driven by gears and cams. At that time in camera history a dense and well made tool conveyed one of great accuracy (tolerances were important for film flatness in the gate and accurate focusing) and reliability. The idea of reliable cameras was especially important to professionals as camera bodies, pre-digital, were expected to earn their keep not just until the next cycle of Moore's Law but for spans of a decade or more of near daily use.

I like well made cameras. I don't particularly care about size or weight. A camera has to be big enough so that the controls aren't crowded and finicky. A good user camera for a person who is mostly mobile has to be limited, at a certain point, where weight and portability are concerned too. I remember testing the Leaf Af7i medium format digital camera. The camera, prism finder, digital back and the 180mm f2.8 Schneider lens together weighed in at nearly ten pounds. That's a bit much to drape over one's shoulder and use as a walk around, street shooter....

On the other hand I've handled a number of smaller cameras that are nearly unusable because their external controls are so minute, and clustered so closely together, that any real use of the camera is largely luck and hit or miss. Those smaller cameras are usually plagued with equally diminutive batteries as well... There are "right sizes" for cameras and they have evolved in the same way hammers and garden tools have evolved; after years, decades or even centuries of trial and error designers have largely figured out what configurations work (for most people).

I recently ditched Sony full frame cameras because I didn't like the way their cameras felt when I was holding them. Sometimes just holding them in my hands and other times when holding them up in the shooting position. It's all very nice that a camera can produce a pretty, 42 megapixel file but it's much nicer if the camera's design makes it look and feel good while you are using it. Same for the Nikon D810. It felt a hell of a lot better to hold than the Sony but was ungainly for carrying while urban hiking, just the same.

Truth be told, the Fuji XH1, when combined with battery grip, is just a bit too big for comfortable, long walks as well. But when stripped down to it's essentials the body is more or less just right. I like it a bit better than the XT3 and I love the design of the basic body. I haven't shot enough with the XH1 but I'm carrying it with me everywhere because it feels like a real camera and that makes me happy. Other cameras that had that feel (but missed on other parameters) were the Nikon 600 and 610, the Sony a99, and even the Canon 7D. Not too big, not too small. And with good proportions and control layouts.

I'd guess that many photographers are less immersed in their cameras. Mine travel with me everywhere, from the car to the pool to lunch and back home. I carry one into my doctor's office and it works great as a kind of security blanket. Once, in the midst of a medical emergency, I stopped by my office to grab my Leica M4, and took it with me to the emergency room and into ICU. It was a comforting companion and never complained about the hours or the service.

There are times when I've left the cameras behind. Usually when the gravity of a situation (which by its very nature is non-photographic) mitigates against it. I don't take a camera into the pool with me (although strapping a Go Pro to my kick board has crossed my mind... And I don't take cameras to funerals or business meetings (although there is always one in the car).

Sometimes the ownership of a fine camera is less about taking photographs than having the intention to make photographs. And sometimes carrying a camera is less about making a good photograph and more about having the potential to make a good photograph should the situation arise.

Intention and potential. That, and an appreciation of the (too few) times when camera makers get everything just right.

The unsettling realization that your images were better when you just started out. Is it just because your social circle was younger and beautiful?

I remember taking this photograph as though it was yesterday. I was playing around with graduate school, working in a high-fi store near the UT campus, and doing photography as a hobby. A few months before I shot this I'd stretched and bought my first studio electronic flash. It was a Novatron. It came as a metal box (horrible build quality) with two plugs on top and put out a total of 120 watt seconds per pop. Of course the system also had a (plastic) flash head at the end of a ten foot cord which plugged into the box. I stretched my budget a bit more and bought a 42" shoot thru umbrella and the least expensive light stand I could find. I experimented with it for a while and added a background stand set and a roll of dove gray seamless backdrop paper. I remember that one roll of seamless lasting me over a year...

My camera of choice back then (I had two) was a used Yashica Mat 124G. The "G" stood for gold because the camera had some gold contacts somewhere in the mix, I guess. The other camera, the one I wore on my shoulder during almost every waking hour, was the Canon Canonet QL17 iii. I liked to play with different film types back then and at the time the image above was taken I think I was in the middle of a deep dive into Kodak's Panatomic X; a 32 ISO, black and white film. That is not a typo, the film was rated at 32 ASA/ISO. 

I generally left the gray seamless background paper and the flash gear set up in one corner of my living room. It was a time in Austin when one could rent the top half of a sprawling and beautiful house on Longview, just a few blocks west of the UT campus for under $100 a month. And that included utilities. As my then girlfriend, now spouse  would remind me, I left the background and lights up because I never got around to straightening up anything back then. Even laundry was an iffy thing, left in situ until it became an emergency situation. Then the scramble for quarters for the laundromat would commence....

I figured out the exposure of the flash and umbrella by trial and error; which, in those days meant shooting a test roll of film at various apertures and then heading into the darkroom to mix chemicals, roll the film onto reels, and then processing it by inverting the developing tank at set intervals for a set amount of time and then stopping the process by pouring out the developer and pouring in an acid bath, followed by a sloshing in liquid fixer. Oh, and one could not forget the archival wash and the application of Photo Flo. A couple hours later, or maybe the next morning the film would be dry and ready for me to make contact sheets and then suss out which frame might be the correct one. 

I might then pull out the trays, mix chemicals to develop paper, and make a few prints, just to test my findings more rigorously. At that point I might have found that having the umbrella and light six feet from my subject would give me an exposure of f5.6. I would grab a short piece of rope or ribbon and cut a piece to exactly six feet and tie it to the light stand. All future shots (until something got moved or I used a different film with a different film speed) would start with me positioning the subject and then moving the tip of the ribbon or rope to the subject's nose in order to ensure that the light was at the same distance it was when tested. As you can imagine, the subsequent shots were the nadir of consistency... You might ask why I didn't use a flash meter back then but in the mid to late 1970's the price of good meters was huge and my budget was small. I did long for the day when I would be able to afford a camera with a Polaroid back and the additional budget to get some Polaroid test materials...

At any rate I would pull everyone who came by my house into the living room "studio" and make their portrait with this very barebones set up. In the 1970's very, very few of my friends and acquaintances were overweight or would qualify as "couch potatoes." Most were former or current athletes and the lack of fat padding their faces seemed to let the camera see a more natural facial shape, complete with cheekbones and a neck below; things nearly hidden in the majority of people I photograph today. 

Of course, it didn't hurt that we were all in our early 20's and it was really an age of great innocence and openness. People were willing to be photographed without having to negotiate the process or be overly self-conscious. 

I was always falling in love back then and one of the manifestations of that was my desire to capture the beauty I found in the people to whom I was attracted. After a photo session I couldn't wait to be in the darkroom to develop the film and get started making prints. My favorite paper was double weight Ilfobrom #3. It was a superb paper and, when I started out, was very inexpensive. Now, when I pull them out of archival boxes I realize that we were working at a specific time in photo history when printing papers were like visual gold and the purchase price of a box was peanuts.

So there was the magic set of bullets. Beautiful, fit people. Young and fresh. Innocent and, for the most part, joyously happy. Films that still rival the best image quality we can get from digital but with ancillary, subjective benefits. Papers that were like magic and were, by their very nature, imbued with artifactual gravitas. And time. We had so much time. Time to linger over a session. Time to linger in the darkroom, sometimes going through an entire 50 sheet box of paper to get EXACTLY the look we wanted. Time to wait for processes. Time to share prints face to face, heart to heart. 

So now, decades later, I sit in an office surrounded with layers of the best gear money can buy, sitting in front of computers laden with thousands of dollars of processing software, a dozen feet away from a drawer filled with your choice of flash meters, and nothing I shoot these days comes close to delivering what I shot then. Perhaps the constant compromises of doing photography as a business have all but extinguished the thrill. Perhaps it's just the relentlessness of it all...

Sobering. 

If you have a happy, optimistic counterpoint I'd love to read it...