2.10.2021

Delivering 1984 Kodachromes in current tech times. File organization? Who? Me?

 

Texas Governor, Ann Richards
at a Mondale-Ferraro rally in 1984.
Austin, Texas.

I was working in the ad business back in 1984 but I still spent time walking around with my camera. I heard that Fritz Mondale and Geraldine Ferraro, who were running for president and vice president at the time, would be at a rally at the Texas State Capitol so I put on a pair of shoes, grabbed a couple rolls of Kodachrome 64 (as in: ISO 64), my favorite camera and a 135mm lens. 

Politicians weren't as precious back then so there weren't layers and layers of security to wade through in order to get close to the speakers and presenters. You could just, kinda, walk up to the front row, about 30 feet from the candidates and claim a bit of territory on which to stand. So I did.

I photographed a handful of frames of Mondale and Ferraro and then Ann Richards gave a short speech. At the end of her speech everyone cheered and someone handed her a bouquet of yellow roses. She reached up and tipped her hat and I shot a frame of film. Slide film. No wiggle room. No post processing magic available at the time. Thankfully, I nailed the exposure but I was hand-holding the camera and lens at around 1/60th of a second and it was before the wimpy times of image stabilization everywhere. It's not the most tack sharp frame I've made in my career but it's acceptable.

The image turned out well enough and got some use by the Richards people for a spell. I wish I had taken more frames but in that time period, if you weren't on assignment and were shooting for fun, you might try one frame and save the next five or six shots on the roll in case anything else, weirder or more picturesque, popped up. 

When Ann passed away a few years back I had a bunch of requests for use of the image. I searched my computer and found some that I'd scanned at a decent (but not great!!!) size. I think the biggest scan was something like 1600 by 1000 pixels. But everyone's use was either newspaper or web so everyone was happy to get the smaller files. It's a good thing I had the scans because I was unable to put my hands on the original transparency even after searching for days....

Yesterday, one of the partners at Pentagram, (https://www.pentagram.com) which bills itself as "The world's largest independent design consultancy", got in touch and asked me if they could use (and pay a fee for) that image to integrate into a project about Ann Richards. I was flattered and thrilled as I have followed the agency, and the requesting partner, for decades.  We e-mailed back and forth and agreed on terms. He'd sent along a digital copy of the image as a reference for our conversation so I assumed he had what he needed.

As you might guess, a half hour later one of the people actually responsible for production got in touch and requested I send to them the highest resolution version possible of the image that I might have. I panicked. 

I spent most of yesterday evening busting open boxes I've been storing for decades looking for that one chrome. I looked through every folder in every drawer in every filing cabinet but kept coming up empty-handed. Finally, I dusted off the last box, poured everything out onto the floor of the studio and went through every slide page. And there, at the very bottom of the stack, was that Ann Richards image, stuck in a slide page with 19 unrelated images. 

My euphoria was short-lived. I had donated my last film scanner about eight years ago and I have no idea who in Austin still scans slides. I decided to do it myself and ran into the next brick wall. I no longer have a copy stand or a set of macro lenses with which to do slide copies. I took a breath and looked up an article about copying slides using newer, high resolution cameras and macro lenses. At that point I was confident the new Leica, or the ancient Panasonic S1R, would resolve more detail than the slide contained, but I lacked a well corrected macro lens. Rabbit hole, rabbit hole. 

I showed up at the camera store a bit after they opened today to buy the Sigma 70mm f2.8 Art series macro lens and a horizontal arm for my tripod. Back at home base I put my camera into electronic shutter mode and set an eight second delay to prevent any sort of vibration from degrading the shots and, after super careful focusing, I banged off five or six big, 47 megapixel raw files. I spent an hour dust spotting and fine tuning and then sent along huge, layered PSD and Tiff files. 

If I submitted this job to a business expert they would quickly divine that I'd done everything wrong and could have had the slide scanned for about $20. If I wanted a really wonderful scan I might have paid $60. Instead I dropped something like $650 to "scan" a fairly low resolution, 37 year old Kodachrome slide in a cardboard mount. I don't really care. I always wanted to do something with Pentagram. And I needed to figure out a quick way to copy more favorite old 35mm and MF negatives that I want to use from time to time. I'll mark this as a win... but also a hard lesson about filing and organization. I'm not sure you really own something if you can't find it. 

Why did I write this? Because I'm scared of two things in life: shots and blood tests. This post kept my mind off my upcoming, 5:00 pm appointment to be vaccinated; for about an hour. A good trade off yet again. 

Now I have copies of my favorite "Ann" photograph on multiple hard drives and also tucked away up in the cloud. Next time someone asks to use the image it should require nothing more that a few mouse clicks to get to a huge file. But I'm less happy imagining all the time it's going to take to organize a couple hundred thousand other slides..... Maybe it's best to not even start.

2.09.2021

Chasing relevance.


I had coffee with a friend who is slightly older and much wiser than I. We met at a local coffee shop and sat at a table outside. I told him that I was sorry not to have brought along the new SL2 camera but he told me he didn't need to see the camera...he was hoping I'd just bring one of the $275 camera batteries since he'd never seen one that expensive before...

I don't know exactly why but I started to explain why I bought the new camera and he more or less stopped me and suggested that the successive purchase of cameras, along with the dogged pursuit of the blog, and my interminable walks through an over documented downtown, might all have the same purpose. 

I asked him to explain and he did so with his usual economy of words. He said, "You have to stay relevant." 

My connection to photography, to the blog, even to a venue like Instagram is my attempt during the long running pandemic to maintain some feeling that I am still relevant in some form. 

I think he hit the nail right on the head. It certainly popped my eyes open. 

To my mind that's one thing that draws all freelance creative people together; our collective need, both emotionally and for many, commercially, to feel relevant to the world outside ourselves. We want to know that we are still acknowledged and our visions and opinions broadcast. But to what end?

To say we are here? To ask the universe to count us among the people who haven't metaphorically checked out yet? To always be under consideration for the next project? To be respected for our knowledge and experience by a contemporaneous audience? 

These are all interesting questions. The answers for many living in the United States of America swirl around the cultural roles for older men. Meaning anyone over 50 years old. We tend to be more isolated from, and less integrated into, our own national culture by this point in our lives and careers. For so many our identity is partially dependent on viewing ourselves by the reflections of our jobs and career pursuits. 

As we age out of different parts of our cultural matrix our friendships seem to become more diffuse and our connections less strong and resilient. We might find that people we counted as friends were only work acquaintances and when our employment changed the fabric of those relationships was laid bare. 

Photography is what I know how to do so I reflexively hang on tenaciously to every part of it that I can. The blog gives me a sense of connection to like minded photographers. New cameras give me a sense of adventure and purpose but mostly end up giving me something new to write about and share. 

While thinking about all of this I was reminded of a photograph I shot in Rome, many years ago. It shows a group of older men sitting at an outside table in an old, residential neighborhood. Some are engaged in a game of cards while others look on or talk amongst themselves. It's the middle of a weekday. These guys are hanging out together, sharing life together. Maintaining, at least in their own group, their relevance. 

One of my friends who, at the time, was a practicing psychologist in private practice saw the black and white image and asked if she could buy a print. I sold her one and she had it framed for her office. I asked her why. She said that a big part of her practice was spent helping older men who had long professional careers,  many spent in the top ranks of the C suites, find their footing after retirement. The biggest issue each faced, in their own way, was a self-aware sense of lost relevance, followed closely by the loneliness brought on by losing the bulk of their work driven social connections. The photo was a jumping off point which engendered conversations about the need to re-discover relevance and social connection. 

I get the point. 




 

Well, well, well. It's vaccine time! And no! I didn't skip the line.

In Texas everyone over 65 is now eligible to receive a Covid-19 vaccine. Yippee.

 I was talking to a friend in Calgary, Canada today and he brought me good luck. I've been trying to get a Covid-19 vaccine for several weeks now. Austin Public Health has an online sign up system that's torturous to navigate and fraught with issues. It crashes more regularly than it stays up. The system demands that you jump through many hoops for (literally) hours before sending you to a final page which lets you know that  your session has crashed and you need to re-load. Refresh. And start again. 

Today I spent an early morning hour trying to lock in an appointment for this week. I gave up and went to swim practice. When I was talking to Eric a bit later I was sitting in front of my computer and I would refresh the page of the APH site from time to time. We finished our call and I reached over to try my luck one last time. Almost like playing the slot machines in Las Vegas. And finally, I hit the jackpot. 

I have an appointment across town at 5 pm tomorrow and I'm excited to finally be moving forward on something. Anything. While I have an abject fear of needles and injections this is one instance in which the fear of NOT getting the shot is actually greater. 

The syringe above is not the one I think they will use. This is a special, lead lined syringe for injecting radioactive (medical) material. It sure looks sinister... Used only by radiologists. Yikes.

If everything goes according to plan I should get a second dose in early March and, if it's protective against some of the newer virus variants I'll be a happy camper. I have heard that the body's reaction to the second dose can be uncomfortable for 24 hours or so. It's got to be better than having a full blown infection. 

I was going to document my experience with a camera but my friendly, favorite doctor reminded me of the HIPA rules and suggested that the new Leica be put to a better use. I concur. I'll have my hands full trying to keep myself from fainting.

It's a good start. I hope we get to finish strong. 

2.08.2021

Do you photograph with a mirrorless camera? If yes, you might want to find a good, film era, 135mm lens and an adapter. They seem to have, miraculously, gotten much better than I remember them having been.


The one feature that mirrorless cameras ushered in and which I embraced from the outset is the ability to magnify the preview image in the finder/LCD so that we can manually focus more accurately. We seem to think that lenses only just became really good in the age of digital cameras and digital sensors but, more and more, I'm finding that older "legacy" lenses could already be very good on their own; even if some of the optical design considerations were different for film than for digital.

I started buying mirrorless cameras when Olympus came out with the EP-2 which offered an EVF attachment that allowed eye level focusing and composing. The camera was among the first with a shorter lens flange to sensor distance which allowed one to use dozens of adapters to retrofit hundreds or thousands of lenses to the body. I bought my first mirrorless camera specifically to use with my collection of Olympus Pen-FT half frame lenses; many of which are still quite good performers. 

The Panasonic S1 series works very well with older, manual focus lenses that were originally designed to be used on film cameras. If I find an interesting older lens that was designed for use on an SLR I go to Amazon and check to see if there is an adapter available for that lens mount family which will work on an L-mount camera. Usually the adapters are available in the $20-$50 range and it's rare for me to get one that doesn't work well with both the camera and lens. I've gotten one or two really cheap ones with too much play but most are well made and almost every one I've gotten has allowed for infinity focus.

I recently picked up two Contax Y/C Carl Zeiss lenses at bargain basement prices. These were both lenses designed to be used on the mid-1980s Contax line of SLRs. The lenses and cameras were built in Japan by Kyocera but before you turn your nose up remember that Kyocera was the maker of several well received Leica SLR zoom lenses, and that the engineers at Carl Zeiss designed their branded Contax lenses and set the parameters for their manufacturing and quality control. In short, with a few exceptions, most of the Contax lenses from that time period, if well maintained, are good-to-excellent and, perhaps a step above other brands from the time period. 

I owned a number of Contax lenses back in the late 1980s when I shot with an RTS II, and then an RTS III camera, and never had reason to complain about their optical performance. 

When I found a little collection of the lenses in the used department of a camera store I opted to buy the 28mm f2.8 (which I wrote a bit about yesterday) along with the 135mm f2.8. Both are later, MM mount lenses with slightly improved coatings and no "Ninja Star" aperture artifacts. You can tell which lenses are the later models because their smallest aperture settings/numbers on the external aperture rings are colored green. 

There was a 50mm on offer as well but I skipped that because I already have a good copy here in the studio which I had originally bought to use with an earlier Sony A7 variant. In retrospect I might as well have bought the one at the store since the supply is ever dwindling, but I'm trying to curb my reckless avarice for lenses. 

I found an adapter supplier I like for two reasons. First is that every adapter I've bought from them has fit both camera and lens snuggly and allowed focus to infinity and, second, they are priced at under $20 apiece. I have two of the adapters and use them on the two Contax lenses I use most, switching out when I need access to the third lens.

When I shot with 135mm lenses in the film days we did not have image stabilization or really good focusing assistance from our cameras. Sure, the optical finders were optimized for manual focus lenses, and there were split-image or microprism focusing aids but all focusing was done strictly at whatever the viewfinder's fixed magnification was. Now we can "punch in" 16 time or even 20 times on most higher end digital cameras which means we're focusing at multiple times the accuracy that was available on something like a Nikon F3. 

While I did an acceptable job focusing a 135mm lens on a traditional camera I can plainly see the huge advantages of magnifying the viewing image in order to fine focus. And that brings into clear view the advantages of focusing while the images are being stabilized.

We tend to think of image stabilization as a benefit only at the time of exposure. We push the shutter button and the image is stabilized for the duration of the exposure. But if you think about it from a different point of view; that of IBIS being a focusing aid, you'll see that stabilizing the overall view of the image while manually focusing also allows for much more precision and accuracy in the process. Which means a much higher number of better focused keeper images. 

All of a sudden, and maybe for the first time, we can actually see and take advantage of the innate qualities of some of the lenses we previously dismissed as "good in their time, but...." 

When I looked at the results of my casual test shots with the older 135mm I was happily surprised that, like the 28mm lens, the 35 or 40 year old lens was entirely capable of matching current AF lenses in that focal length range, without issue. An interesting observation for someone like myself who is happily disposed to experimenting with old lens-to-new camera adaptation.




Some cities have statues of war heroes. We have statues of musicians.
The statue of Willie Nelson sits in front of the Austin City Limits Theater.

funny how a detail of a chair can be visually appealing to me.
I saw this in a downtown hotel and enjoyed the contrast of the bright 
red against a background which I could see with my eyes but which 
fell off into darkness in the photograph.


Making faces out of traffic barriers. 



Another face created by light.






Donuts. Essential business. Happiness is good.



2.07.2021

Out enjoying an early spot of Summer weather while savoring the odd magic of a 28mm lens. And an ancient camera body.


For some reason I'm lately captivated with getting wider. Well, not me personally but my appreciation for wider angle lenses than the normal focal length (50mm)  and longer lenses that have always been a more comfortable part of my routine. The 28mm f2.8 Carl Zeiss Y/C lens in particular has me working to better understand composition with that angle of view. I've come to like these older, film era lenses for several reasons. First, they didn't have in-camera distortion correction when this lens was made back in the 1980s so Zeiss had to make it as geometrically correct as possible. Now, that doesn't mean it's necessarily sharper in the corners but it does mean that there is no interpolation black magic happening which sometimes ends up looking as through an image has been unnaturally stretched. The interpolations to correct for inherent lens distortions also means that the stretched corners have made up pixels which can sometimes be...unconvincing. It doesn't need "fake" corrections since it's already well corrected. 

I used the lens with an inexpensive C/y to L-mount adapter which allowed me to put it on a Lumix S1 for today's casual photography. After an hour or so I was reminded that although the S1 is not the most expensive or extravagantly spec'd of the three four Lumix S1 series cameras it is, nonetheless a very good image making machine and using it just a day after spending time with a Leica SL2 I was surprised how close the performance, viewfinder image, and file integrity is. In fact, it's a highly competitive camera body for the L-mount systems. I'm beginning to wonder just how well it might perform with the Leica 35mm f2.0 SL lens might work with it. If I find some more change in between the couch cushions I may just find out...

But camera bodies aside, I am surprised and impressed by how good this particular lens, which was used and purchased for little more than a song, is when it comes to rendering highly defined detail and rich colors. I imagined that newer lenses would be leaps and bounds better but I'm constantly revising my opinions about optical progress. I'm almost ready to believe that many earlier lenses were designed and built to very high standards but that cameras of their time didn't allow photographers to fine focus reliably and accurately the way current cameras with 5.7 megapixel EVFs can when used with 16X image magnification when manual focusing. I noticed the same uncanny improvement when it came to shooting with the 135mm f2.8 Carl Zeiss lens from the same period. My memory of the lens when used in the film days was that it was good but not "great." Now it seems much, much better. But I guess I'm not taking into consideration that I'm comparing relatively low res Tri-X film performance, sans image stabilization, with super accurate focusing, much higher imaging resolution, total control over contrast and quite good image stabilization. Those factors elevate nearly every lens. At least I think so. 

The beauty of photographing with a good, manual focusing 28mm lens is that one can operate in either of two modes. You can use a smaller aperture, like f8.0, and zone focus when you are out shooting scenes that require deeper focus and quick reflexes, or you can take a bit more time to use your EVF, punch in on the point you'd like to target for the plane of sharpest focus, and then shoot. Either way you'll be able to get lots of stuff sharply focused and I'm thinking that a well focused image makes every lens look like it's been improved. 

I like having a smart watch. I got the newest generation Apple Watch for my birthday last October. I used it for many things today but the most fun was using it to measure the distance of two different walks today. The first was up and down the hills in our neighborhood. I walked with Belinda and we did a leisurely 2.5 miles with about 800 feet of changing elevation. I walked this afternoon with the camera and logged in about 3.75 miles. Mostly on flat, urban terrain. It's nice to quantify a walk and see just how much movement you are getting. No wonder the soles of my Merril hiking shoes are wearing down through all the tread... I guess I knew they would not last forever.

I am always amazed at this "green space" at the Seaholm development. 
People love to bring their kids here to play on the green Astroturf. 
There's no mud to worry about and the kiddos live the flat uniformity of
the space. But dog owners and their dogs also love the space
and the cute little pooches love to relieve themselves on the fake grass.
While I'm sure the whole surface gets power washed each morning...
I'm not sure I would feel comfortable laying out on the 
ground cover to work on my tan. Just conjecture...








 After all the excitement of getting the Leica SL2 it was a comfort to walk around with a more familiar camera and a vintage lens. There is a familiarity that makes the camera seem so well sorted and well integrated into a walk. It's like strolling with a friend. 

It was a balmy 72° this afternoon and blue sky everywhere. I cleaned both bathrooms this morning and felt like I really deserved some quality time with my camera and lens. I am amazed at how nice a day it was. 

We're going to get cold later in the week but we like to "make hay when the sun shines." Or photographs.

So far, on a personal level, the year is off to a good start. No big drama and no big changes. And that's good since I fear change. Everyone does. Don't write a comment about how you never fear change. We'll have you well pegged as either delusional or a liar. 

2.05.2021

Relatively new lens. Very new camera. The Leica SL2 paired up with the Sigma 65mm f2.0. Does that work?


I know you're probably waiting for me to write a gushy review about the brand new Leica SL2 I picked up on Thursday, and to show you amazing photographs that could not be taken by any other camera, but I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. While the camera's color is tweaked in a certain way and the filter pack in front of the sensor is thinner than the one on the S1R I find that there's not a heck of a lot of difference between the two cameras. And I didn't think there really would be. It's pretty obvious that Leica and Panasonic are working hand-in-hand on these big, high res, mirrorless cameras and I actually would have been a bit shocked if there had been a big difference in image quality in either direction.

The Leica is, visually, a much nicer bit of industrial design but none of the spreadsheet jockeys here or on the WWW will take the value of better industrial design too seriously; not when two otherwise very similar performing cameras have a $2,000+ gap in price. 

So, what is the logic in buying such an expensive camera? Especially when it so obviously duplicates the capabilities of a camera I already own (Lumix S1R) and doesn't bring any radically new and different features to the mix? I could mention the clean look that having fewer buttons and knobs confers but, again, it's just industrial design differences which are, themselves, too subjective to measure. 

I think it mostly boils down to how the SL2 feels when you hold it in your hand or bring it up to your eye. 

For me it purchase was a symbolic capper to a long career during which I owned and used all generations of Leica cameras and became fond of most of them. Sentimental. Nostalgic.

I started shooting the interchangeable rangefinder models when all I could afford was a Leica IIIf, red dial screw mount camera, and an old 50mm Elmar f4.0 collapsible lens. You had to trim the leaders of your Tri-X film back then in order to load it into the camera, and the viewing window was tiny. Really, really tiny. But the overall camera package was small and discreet and I liked it so much that one day I put it in a small backpack, drove over to the airport and booked a ticket to Mexico City to shoot for fun for a week and a half. I didn't bring any other camera. I didn't own any other lenses that would work with the camera. But it was fun to shoot, maybe because it took discipline and newly learned skills to do it right. 

Later I "graduated" to a Leica M3 and a 50mm dual range Summicron lens. It was such a revelation. Still probably the best camera I ever shot with. It was the first one I took up in a helicopter. We went up to shoot a shot from the north of the state capitol building looking south into downtown. I was shooting Kodachrome 64 and the shots were done just before sunset. They were amazing. Pure luck but still amazing.

That shoot also generated my first copyright infringement lawsuit. A magazine copied the image from the cover of a glossy, color brochure I'd shot for a commercial client and used on their own magazine cover. The infringing company decided it would be alright because they used the image in black and white. But everyone could see right away that it was the same image. I settled out of court for enough money to buy a few more M lenses and both a Leicaflex SL and Leicaflex SL2. Both "Flexes" were bullet proof, mechanical, SLR film cameras which took the new (at the time) Leica R mount lenses. 

I picked up an original Leicaflex just to have and then went down the line picking up the R3, the R4, the R4sp, the R5 and finally a couple of R8's, as they emerged. In the mid-1990s I started using more M series cameras and ended up with an M6 and an M6.85 (larger view magnification for use with slightly longer lenses). I used those for nearly weekly event work for the better part of 8 years before succumbing to the lure of digital. 

I wrote a long article about the M series Leicas for Photo.net in 2000 which, by the time they decided the article had become passé and took it down, had generated millions and millions of page views and earned me an honorary membership to the Leica Historical Society. It was at an LHSA meeting in San Antonio that I had drinks in the hotel bar with the famous photographer, Jim Marshall. We had some good laughs in between professing our common high regard for the cameras. 

For over a decade I watched Leica struggle and go through multiple ownerships and buyouts. For a while I didn't believe they were going to make it through, financially. Then the M series cameras went to full frame sensors again and a raft of new M lenses appeared followed by both a medium format camera, and the first Leica SL. By the time they fleshed out their SL line of lenses and started the L-mount venture with Sigma and Panasonic I started paying attention again. 

I'm sure it was the three "Leica Certified" Lumix S-Pro lenses I'd bought for the Panasonic S series cameras that started me down the path to owning this new Leica camera because the 24-70mm, the 50mm and the 70-200mm are all superb lenses that lack nothing; as far as I'm concerned. 

The final mercantile "kick to the seat of my pants" that pushed me to go forward and get a new Leica camera was my purchase of the Sigma 65mm f2.8 L-mount lens. It's nothing short of phenomenal. It's sinisterly sharp at f2.0 and then becomes futuristically capable as one stops down. I like the look, the feel and the rendering of it and it convinced me that it wasn't necessary to run out and buy my favorite focal lengths in Leica SL models (at $5K to $10K a pop!!!) in order to put together a fun system around an SL2 body. I could buy the body I enjoyed looking at and handling and still get top quality imaging but at (compared to Leica) a discount price. 

I shot with the camera yesterday, together with the 65mm. It's not going to revolutionize my work or hoist me up into the photographic stratosphere of gifted artists. But it's fun, feels great and handles wonderfully. 

But I'll say it again: I never thought I'd pay $275 per battery for spares. That's just crazy. 

This blog post is peppered with random images from a long walk, both before and after seeing a new show of two artists at the Austin Contemporary Museum. One of the artists did work that was sublime and brilliant while the second gallery hosted a show of photographs that looked every bit like the haphazard portfolio of a clumsy, second year student in the commercial photography program at the local community college. It was a jarring juxtaposition but you go see what you can during a pandemic. The bad artist's manifesto (paraphrased): He eschews the ease of digital imaging with all of its post processing and manipulation and instead works in the "mythical" analog space, using film and chemicals and printing on photographic color paper. 

Making the case once again that some curators are blind. And that many artists are not self-aware.

the images here are 2200 pixels wide or about 1/4 of the camera's actual capabilities. click on them to make them bigger. But they still won't be big enough to make you catch your breath....