Voigtlander 90mm f2.8 APO Skopar lens for Leica M mount makes an appearance. It gets a warm welcome.

 

Voigtlander makes a lot of very interesting lenses for M mount cameras and I'd be confident in saying that more M camera users end up buying Voigtlander's lens products for their Leica M cameras than they do actual Leica lenses. One of the reasons I circled back and started buying rangefinder digital cameras was due to the impulsive purchase of a stand out VM lens, the 50mm f2.0 APO Lanthar lens for M. Sure, I'd love to have acquired the Leica equivalent but the current cost of a Leica 50mm APO is $9095 USD while the Voigtlander is just $1,000. After having used the Voigtlander version on an SL2 and, as intended, on an M240 I can't imagine that the eight thousand dollar difference would be worth it considering how I use cameras and lenses (mostly handheld) and what my final targets are for the images I would generate (mostly web-centric). Both lenses are critically sharp at even the widest apertures and while I would guess that they have different "looks" I would also feel confident saying that the differences would be slim. At least to me.

When it comes to lenses I think a lot of the value lies in the subjective appreciation of the user. It's like the differences in discernment between various wine enthusiasts. Under perfect conditions I might be able to appreciate more positive flavors and characteristics from a $50 bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon but I'm certain that anything more expensive would be lost on me. And, with good food and good company I can be just as happy sharing a $12 to $15 bottle of wine. Like lenses the appreciation of wine is contextual and personal. ("Buy on bread, sell on cheese". -- tells you everything you need to know...).

If you've been reading here for the last year you'll know that I gave up any pretense of being logical and rational about camera and lens purchases and started tossing good money into a rangefinder system. I started with an inexpensive (?) used Leica M240 and really enjoyed using it. I worked with Leica film rangefinder cameras for fun in the 1980's (M3, M2, M4) and then, more seriously, for work in the 1990s (M6 .72, M6 .85, and M6 .68). When digital arrived, and digital Leicas didn't, I sold out of the film RF system and concentrated for the next twenty odd years on using digital Canons, Nikons, Sonys, etc. Along with some deep dives into 4:3 and m4:3 cameras. When I got my hands back on a rangefinder camera I felt like I was coming home to my earlier days in photography. It felt (and feels) nice. 

Until last week my "new" rangefinder system was barebones. Two identical cameras (who would travel for photography without bringing along a back-up camera???) and the usual complement of M mount lenses in 28, 35, 50 and 75mm. There's also a 40mm f1.4 M lens  in the studio inventory but I don't consider it to be part of this kit because neither of my Leica M cameras have frame lines for that focal length. And, when used on a Leica SL it does a good job of shrinking down that overall package to a more manageable size. So the 40mm camps with the SL stuff.

There was one focal length that I historically got a lot of use out of back in the 1990s that I didn't have for the new system. That was the 90mm. The longest focal length lens I would want to use with a rangefinder camera. As the focal lengths get longer the projected frame lines get smaller and less easy to use. You can get a 135mm lens for the Leica M cameras but good luck using the tiny frame lines for composition... (You could get accurate framing in live view but that slows down the camera a lot...).

I thought that the 75mm would work for me but memories of the old 90mm M Summicron lens kept popping up and poking at me. The 75 is a fine lens and I used it last month for some commercial cityscapes that turned out really well. But that extra 15mm on the 90mm is addictive. What finally pushed me to buy the VM90 was the realization that, with two adapters I could also use the 90 on both the Leica and Panasonic L mount cameras and the Fuji GFX 50Sii. I already had the adapters so all that was left was a trial run. 

When the 90mm VM lens arrived the first camera I mounted it on was not a rangefinder but was the Fuji medium format camera. When using the 4:3 format there is a bit of vignetting in the far corners but when using the 4:5 format crop on the camera the lens delivers good results with minimal-to-negligible vignetting and, at f4-5.6 a very sharp image. It's a "no brainer" on the SL cameras, especially with their easy "punch-in" magnification for fine manual focusing. A plus for both of those camera systems. 

I finally put the lens on one of the M240 cameras and first checked to make sure the camera and lens were well matched for precision focusing with the rangefinder. Yep! Check. 

Then I shot test frames all over the studio. It's a good performer. I can't wait for the current gray days to vanish so I can give the lens the workout in the sun light that it deserves. 

Three attributes of the 90VM lens that endear it to me are: When using it on a rangefinder and taking off the lens hood the lens doesn't protrude into the frame lines for 90mm lenses. Yay! Next, the lens is tiny. Absolutely tiny. Probably the first longer lens I could honestly describe as "pocketable" ---with a straight face. Along with its very small size is a commensurate very light weight. And, in the silver version, it is beautifully designed and constructed. 

One benefit of the Leica M240 and, I assume more recent Leica rangefinders, is the inclusion of live view. While I love rangefinder focusing and optical finder viewing sometimes, especially with longer or very wide angle lenses, it's advantageous to be able to compose across a three inch rear screen instead of trying to accurately assess what's in and what's out inside the frame lines in the optical finder window. Modern tech to the rescue. Live view actually makes the camera and lens practical for on tripod portrait shooting...

I seem to be hurtling in an ever accelerating trajectory toward having and working with a complete M rangefinder system. Why? Because it's fun. The process provides a bit of welcome friction to the process of taking photographs. The tiny size of the lenses makes it a perfect system choice for travel or one person-no assistant jobs. And the cameras are a joy to carry, hold and use. Why M240s? Because they are built like tanks, have massive battery reserves, and since the model was introduced in 2012 used camera bodies are plentiful and relatively cheap. Well, relative to newer Leica M products. I have one more body coming but I'll save that for a future blog post. 

For right now getting used to the 90mm VM lens on an M240 body is the top of my agenda. 

Swim notes: Drat. It rained today. We swimmers don't really care about the rain so the coach and 20 or so swimmers hit the water for the 8 a.m. Saturday workout. Coach Peter was on the deck. I was in my favorite lane and we'd just pounded through the warm up sets and were settling into the main sets when the weather intruded. The morning had been gray, rainy, dark and cloud covered but now, at 8:30 we started hearing distant thunder. A phone app showed the coach that lightning strikes were 14 miles away. Then the thunder picked up and started to resemble a tympani concert. The lightning strikes got closer and when the app showed them to be five miles out and heading our way Peter called it and ordered everyone out of the pool. Ten minutes later we had a thrashing downpour and lightning was dancing all around the horizon. With almost immediate and near continuous thunder. 

Most of us are so addicted to our endorphin rushes that we'll probably hit the pool in the afternoon for self-paced slogs. Depending on weather. Those who only want to get wet once a day will hit the soggy hike and bike trails for an hour run and some of us will give up on the great outdoors for the day and head to the gym for some weight work.

So sad when swims get truncated. Almost as bad as leaving the house and driving a long way for a bout of street photography only to discover that you forgot to pull the camera battery off the charger at home and put it in the camera. ...  Only it's worse because it's swimming. Or, more accurately,  not swimming.

Once upon a time we just adapted to our tools. We didn't expect them to adapt to us. And photos from a bizarre camera and lens combination on a gloomy day.

Once upon a time photographers and writers adapted to the tools on offer rather than begging for custom made equipment designed and produced for small, tender audiences. I am often reminded of this when I pick up my ancient Nikon F camera, with a non-metered prism, put on a 50mm lens from the 1960s and go out to make photographs. On a bright and sunny Texas day is there really any pressing need for a light meter? Between the hours of 10 and 5 I'd say, "not really." Do I need a motor drive in order to capture images? Never have. Not with that ancient Nikon. Besides, adding a 20 frame per second (modern obsessions) motor drive to a camera loaded with a 36 exposure film canister would mean having to change film every two seconds.... And that would get annoying really quickly. Not to mention, quite expensive.

When I start looking at current camera spec sheets I wonder just how infirm modern photographers have become. Needing all the "features" of modern cameras seems in some ways antithetical to the lovely process of actually having to be physically and mentally involved/invested in the process of taking a photograph. Or many photographs. One learns stuff when fully engaged with a camera. One learns nothing about photography but a lot about menus when the fully automated camera takes center stage. 

The interesting thing to me about photography and gear is that in the time that AF, AE and digital everything have become the standard in cameras the level of interesting photography in general hasn't gotten one bit better than where we were in the late days of film. Or earlier. People love to love the work of the late photographer, Elliott Erwitt. I do. And one of the things that I think makes his work interesting on a technical level is that his camera of choice right up till the end was a Leica M series Rangefinder. Sure, he used lots of other cameras over his long career but when my friend Will and I took  Erwitt out to lunch at our favorite Mexican food restaurant in east Austin a few years back he certainly wasn't sporting the latest feature laden digital SLR or mirrorless camera. He was carrying (and using) a Leica M7 rangefinder with a 50mm f2.0 lens. No autofocus. No IBIS. No face detection. Nothing but the time-honored exposure control via aperture and shutter speed dials and the manual focusing of a single focal length, prime lens. 

As a commercial photographer I understand that the new cameras can be used to make image capture easier. More efficient. More foolproof? But I constantly miss the friction of simpler techniques. A friction that requires me to pay attention. To be intimately involved in the process of making photographs. I walked into a client space one day with a modern camera fitted with what might be the world's best standard zoom lens. I set it up on a tripod and rigged up some beautiful, continuous lighting for a series of environmental portraits. It quickly became obvious to me that once the camera was set and the scene well lit the camera functioned just like a fully manual, mechanical camera from the film age. Yes, it provided eye detect AF. But you know what? I learned to focus on subject's eyes when looking at the upside down and reversed, dark image on a 4x5 view camera while huddled under a black cloth. Manually focusing on a subject's eyes through a bright finder under bright lights is something that should be a piece of cake for anyone except people with critical ocular deterioration. And, at least for me, the challenge of doing things with total immersion is much more fun than abdicating responsibilities to a camera. 

After taking portraits with the state of the art, modern camera, and breathtakingly good glass of its matching zoom lens for the portrait client I decided to make the next encounter more exciting. More challenging. Or is it just more fun? I returned the next day with a different set of tools. A Sigma fp with no auxiliary finder. A Nikon 105mm f2.5 Ais lens which is fully mechanical from start to finish. I set the camera to manual exposure and took the same kind of photos as the day before. It was more fun. It was more challenging. I had to change batteries much more often. Compose on the rear screen. Check focus on the rear screen.  But the friction of the process was not only fun for me but also for the clients who sensed that we were doing something different and quirky. Relying on skill over automation. And that felt much more authentic.

I mentioned writers because I just read Michael Johnston's long essay on his "need" for absolutely specialized keyboards as a result of his life long refusal to learn touch typing. I immediately thought of all the writers I loved who carried around portable, manual typewriters with atrocious keyboards (and great keyboards) who blazed through reams of paper without a peep of complaint. My Olivetti still works. Even though it was used intensely and used roughly. Thousands of sheet of beautiful white, bond paper flowed through that fully mechanical machine. Yes, I often had to rush out and buy a new ribbon when I was in the middle of typing a thesis with a tight deadline, but the work got done. And, since I learned the correct way to type, surrounded by beautiful young woman in a high school class, I am still able to type somewhere north of eighty words a minute even though I can certainly not think that fast. 

It makes producing a blog short work. Or, rather, writing quickly gives me more time to go out and shoot photographs with which to decorate the writing.

I just had a sad thought. That if Olivettis and Royals, and even lowly Smith Corona typewriters were still in wide use today some in the sensitive cohort would insist on new accessories to silence that staccato (or largo) tapping of the keys and the sound of metal letters on steel wands striking the surface of paper with authority. And how that would diminish the process! Maybe the lack of actual, physical keystrokes is in some small part to blame for the decline in some areas of good literature today.

The point is that blaming the tools or pining for labor saving devices may be one of the things that's blunting the overall quality of the creative work we'd like to do. Just sayin".  I found it interesting to learn in the 39 comments appended to MJ's column about keyboards that so many people have actual prejudices about using various keyboards. I guess I should have been paying attention all along but I've rarely given any thought to the quality or usability of any of the keyboards I've worked with. And I type a lot. A LOT. 

I'm probably an outlier about all of this. I should try an "ergonomic" keyboard and see if it makes my writing better and smarter; or at least faster. I should buy a Sony A9 and see if portraits really look better when taken at 20 frames per second. I should ditch that charming 105mm f2.5 Nikon lens and see if a much newer and more modern lens makes my portrait subjects look more creative, more interesting, and more engaging. I'm going to bet the answer is "no." 

Yesterday I went for a walk after a long day of procrastinating and online camera shopping. Oh, I did do a bunch of retouching on a client project and I read through a bid to have the 800 square feet of my living room floor demolished, removed and replaced with a new hardwood floor. (That's a price tag that would give even a seasoned Leica buyer pause...). But at some point you just have to stand up and move around. 

I grabbed a camera I haven't used lately and put a zany lens on it. The camera was a Leica CL, unadorned by many buttons and even fewer button markings. The lens was the manual focusing, non-electronically connected, Voigtlander 40mm f1.4 Nokton. I walked around in the gloom and mostly thought about how much photography has changed and how much of the joy of it has been diminished by its homogenization on every level, from the art being shared to the design intention of current cameras. But I came to the conclusion that, if it's still enjoyable to me on a personal level then that's all I can ask for. Sobering thoughts. 

Valentines Day is coming up fast. Time to pick up those diamond tiaras and 

Bentley Flying Spurs for your loved one. Or maybe a box of candy and a bouquet of

flowers from the stand in the grocery store.

Photographer wishing we could have digital cameras that didn't need batteries...

This is not an ATM I'd trust with my credit card....

My actor friend, Billy Brooks (left) and a friend, downtown by Esther's Follies Theater.

Nasty little bokeh balls from that 40mm lens...

Downtown. It was 5 o'clock. Everyone went home.

Interesting. I spent about four or five hours photographing in San Antonio on Sunday and managed to squeeze five blog posts from the photographs. It's fun when you just let go and make pictures for the joy of it.

The image just above is my favorite of that day. I've been watching an Irish photographer named Paul Reid make incredibly nice portraits with his small camera and its twenty-eight millimeter lens and I was inspired to go out and do the same. Intermixed of course with lots of color images of buildings, gorditas and the Alamo. Paul uses a Q2 Monochrome for a lot of his work. Or at least he did when he was making the work that I really liked. I don't have a monochrome camera but I'm pretty sure I can get a nice black and white file out of my conventional Q2 if I'm willing to pay attention to the process of both shooting and post processing the files the right way (for me). 

I've always been interested in what other photographers write about so I've been catching up on essays by Bill Jay and I find that there's a lot we share, idea-wise, about getting comfortable with being uncomfortable and progressing as a photographer. I think it's symptomatic of being a photographer to spend a certain amount of time looking for the lost gold of Cortez...oops. I meant the magic camera that makes the ones who discover it much better at making riveting and exciting images that stand the ravages of time, and the changing tastes of our own civilizations. I know, intellectually, that such a camera doesn't exist. In the same way that I'm pretty sure various vitamins and supplements aren't going to stave off inevitable death, and strict diets won't do much more than make you sad and hungry. But it's human nature, I think, to never stop looking for the Fountain of Youth. Or the perfect street shooting camera. 

One of the things that Bill Jay and I agree on is the almost certain reality that you get better by doing whatever it is you want to do as frequently and with as much excitement as you can muster. Sitting at home reading about the Zone System or delving into arcane recipes for film development will only get one so far. Or not far at all. What really counts is being in a place, physically and mentally, where there is the potential for making photographs. Situations that provide the motivation to bring the camera up to your eye and nail the composition and all the other good stuff that makes photos sing. Sitting at home reading about photography is different than navigating the pavement and seeing actual stuff that you can actually photograph --- and maybe share with other people. 

There are some things that help get me out the door. Even on days when I'm inclined to lay around in bed and have servants bring me various coffee drinks and freshly baked pastries. One of those things is the realization that I have no servants and if I want a hot beverage or a snack I'd better crawl out of bed and get my ass in gear. Coffee is a big help when it comes to getting out to shoot. Not because coffee is good or bad but it is a ritual and a time honored way to start the day. The caffeine is a big help for those who require an extra push towards the door. Any additional momentum is welcome.

Just the right pair of shoes is an important part of street photography. Oh heck, good shoes are an important part of just about anything. And as I get older it seems that good shoes are ever more important. Those pads on the bottoms of my feet aren't getting any thicker.... You need light and airy shoes for hot days, good, enclosed hiking shoes for temperate days and probably a pair of insulated boots for those times when the temperature refuses to rise about the level required to keep frozen foods frozen. I'd recommend some brands and models of shoes but I've found that everyone's feet/taste/budgets are wildly different so you'll just have to rely on good ole trial and error. I do know that thick wool socks are a helpful addition when moving from sandal weather to Arctic blasts. 

Now that I find myself firmly ensconced in the Leica camp I understand that I need to take myself far too seriously and customize my chosen camera so it fits my taste while also looking just so professional and well decorated.  When I see most cameras out in the wild, be they Sony, Nikon or Canon, they are generally unadorned and not outfitted with pricy accessories which are meant to convey that the owner uses his camera so much and so well that he's discovered small additions that bolster his already fine camera up into some higher tier of camera existence. If only wishing made it so.

Having become a de facto Leica snob I can't resist festooning the various cameras with all nature of aftermarket junk meant to convey just how serious I think I am about capturing vital images in fast moving scenarios under tremendous pressure. Or, in reality, I can't resist adding things that help to keep the slippery cameras from sliding out of my hands and crashing to the pavement. Were that to happen the only thing I know how to do is to affect a look of nonchalant annoyance while all the while I would be holding back tears and tormented by my heady loss....

When I bought a Leica Q2 I thought for sure it would be a perfect camera to hand hold and shoot with. Oh, how wrong I was. Its rounded and slightly slippery front desperately needed a front grip to keep it from sliding out of my hands. There's a Leica branded grip for about $10,000 but there is also one made by Hoage for about $75 which works just fine. I bought that one --- having spent all my money on the initial camera purchase. I presumed this would help with the handling since Leica designed a little depression on the back of the camera which seems intended as a thumb rest. But after using the camera for a few days I realized that only a gorilla would have the thumb reach to make their fashionable thumb depression workable. Aftermarket to the rescue again. A JCC branded thumb grip that fits into the hotshoe works quite well. Sure, I could have bought the Leica branded thumb grip but I'm pretty sure they have it made by Hermés and costs about $1200 USD. The JCC version is great and it was only $45. Now I need to get a can of matte black spray paint so I can paint over the (non-Leica) logos on the two accessories so no one will know that I'm just a really cheap guy....

Here's what all the "hood scoops, spoilers and air dams and curb feelers" look like on my camera. Be advised that I have yet to apply black gaffers tape over the logo. I'm just too afraid the logo will come off with the tape when I go to remove it....

Laugh all you want but this is what it took to make the camera comfortable for me and now that it's all "customized" it's much more fun to take out and make photographs with. The one thing I haven't wanted to mess with is the leather strap that came in the box with the camera. It's pretty much perfect. So that's one thing I don't need to pay extra for. 

All kidding aside, of all the Leica stuff I've squandered my retirement money on the Leica Q2 is without a doubt the best bang for the buck. The color out of the camera is great. The lens is wildly sharp. The whole package is small and light enough to make a long day of shooting a pleasure and....it takes the same big batteries as three of my other camera bodies. So, I might never have to deal with running out of battery power. A big plus. 

While I was photographing in San Antonio I made frequent use of the crop mode. I was shooting Jpegs so the images showed up cropped in the review screen. And I like seeing the 35mm and 50mm frame lines in the EVF while lining up a shot. Reminds me of the old M cameras. I was happy with the crops. The 35mm creates a 30 megapixel file while the 50mm creates a 15 megapixel file. More than enough for images destined for the web. 

The important thing, regardless of the brand you've been suckered into buying, is that you like your camera, and its existence in your little nest of things helps to motivate you to get outside and play. We all take ourselves so seriously but in the end I measure the process and progress of taking photographs not by how perfect the images are but by how much fun I had taking them --- and subsequently sharing them. 

Perfection and flawless technique are traps. The best way to escape the traps is to grab a camera; any camera, with a fresh battery and make it out the front door. Do that and the momentum will hopefully carry you through. 

Sit on your butt and read about photography and two or three things will happen. Your butt will get bigger. Your desire for the newest gear will grow to overwhelm you. You will miss out on so much potential. Wonderful scenes, people and weirdness just waiting to be plucked. 

I went to swim practice this morning. The camera waited patiently for me in the car. I've now finished up this blog post and my ever patient camera is winking at me from the table behind my desk. Inviting me to go out and discover something new. Or something old that we can see together in a different way.

"But at my back I always hear 

Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near; 

And yonder all before us lie 

Deserts of vast eternity."

"To His Coy Mistress."  a poem by Andrew Marvell. 

A reminder that time is always short. Better not to put off real experiences. The past will take care of itself.

Gallery of Random Images from San Antonio. Taken on Sunday Feb. 4. Camera? Leica Q2. Jpegs.

 

 hanging sculpture of frying pans at the Culinary Institute.

the original Pearl Beer stables. I photographed this reconstruction for advertisements 15 years ago.

The building is now a theater for live performances.

The Pearl shopping and dining can point to the stables as the fuse for the rest of the 

incredibly popular new center. Another SA attraction.

A super proud parent of a Texas Tech University graduate.

Hanging out at El Mercado.