Familiarity breeds attempt. I'm warming up to the Fuji X-100V. Setting a few things in the menu and adding an accessory or two helps. A lot.

Pounding the sidewalks and dragging a camera all over the place is the only way I know to warm up to a camera. You learn a little bit more every time you bump up against an impediment and dive into the menu in an attempt to fix the roadblock. Two physical things improved my handling of the new camera a lot. First, I added a Hoage lens hood to the camera. It's made of metal and fits well. Some won't like it because there's no neutral detent to let you know when you have it placed correctly. It can rotate. But it a very stiff fit and you'll know if you rotated it and you are still sentient. The defect this cured for me is that it kept me from inadvertently touching the lens with my greasy fingers. I'm sure it will theoretically increase the micro contrast and also impart some additional grooviness to the package but for now I'm happy with the degreasing technology. 

Metal Hood from a Company called "Hoage" on Amazon.com

The second thing I added was a small, dense handle that I originally bought for the Sigma fp, on a lark. It's designed to give you some additional grip on a small camera body and it screws into the tripod socket. The attachment is a small, dense knob that gives the index and middle finger of your left hand a place to grip that's safe and convenient. You won't be accidentally changing any settings. It also helps to add density to the camera to make it more stable during exposures.

A Sigma BG-11 grip. Bought for the fp but very useful on an X-100V.

I've also taken some time to go through the menu a number of times looking for settings that might make the camera nicer to operate, at least for me. I noticed that when I have the camera set to "S" for AF and the drive setting to single frame that the camera switches the OVF to EVF and blacks out while writing the file. Then it shows the file on the EVF if I have the camera up to my eye, or the LCD screen if I have the camera away from my eye. I was able to obviate the long black out by turning off the review function entirely. Now I shoot and if I want to "chimp" I hit the "play" button and the image comes up on the LCD screen (assuming I have the camera away from my eye...). The shooting operation and the playback operation can be set separately. That's a nice touch. 

I find that I chimp much less if I have to go to the button and take the extra step to review the file. I tried using the EVF instead of the OVF for general work but the EVF in no way matches the color or contrast of the rear LCD so I'm settling on using the OVF and enjoying the frame lines. 

If the camera is set up just to turn on when you bring it up to your eye you'll find the battery life is much extended over the default which is to just switch back and forth between the finder and the rear screen, depending on your proximity to the eyepiece switch. My method of using the OVF exclusively is much like the operation of my favorite, old Leica M rangefinder cameras. 

Note: middle and third finger of left hand resting on the Sigma BG-11 attachment...

Another feature I was very happy to master is the "digital tele-converter." Essentially, the camera is able to record a frame cropped into either a 50mm equivalent angle of view or a 70mm equivalent angle of view (in full frame speak). The cropped frame is interpolated in the camera so that all files appear as 26 megapixel files. Digital sleight of hand has been done to the files but it's actually hard to see without big enlargements on a sharp screen. The additional, nice part of this feature is that the 50 and 70mm "frames" are shown in the OVF, depending on which one you've selected. The framing area is commensurately smaller but then so are the framed areas in an $8.000 Leica rangefinder if you select longer focal lengths. 

One advantage of the OVF and the finder frame lines (which only show up one at a time --- depending on your focal length selection) is that you can see outside the frame which can help you anticipate objects coming into the composition. It's a nice plus. But....if you want to see each of the three focal lengths filling the entire eyepiece frame you can switch from OVF to EVF and each focal length will display itself magnified (or shrink-ified) to fill the eyepiece frame. I find I prefer the size differentiation in the OVF because it constantly informs me which one I have the camera set to. There is a symbol that shows up when you set the camera to 50 or 70 in the EVF or on the LCD screen. That's nice too. 

Let me backtrack for a second and admit that using the 35mm focal length on a rangefinder style finder seems more comfortable than using the same focal length on a more conventional finder like the ones in most mirrorless cameras, like the Lumix S1 or S5. I'm happier with the (dreaded) focal length on this camera than I usually am when shooting lenses in that class.

Once I mastered the non-blackout, non-review settings, figured out the digital teleconverter, remembered the different Fuji film simulations, got a decent hood on it and attached a weighty gripping surface from the tripod mount I started to feel more comfortable and less apprehensive about the camera's handling.

And that's good because I'm finding the combination of the camera's sensor and the improved (over previous models) lens to be a generator of some of the nicest files I've seen. I was thrown off balance at first because I assumed that the EVf would give me a fairly accurate representation of the final file but it doesn't come close enough. I supposed I can dial in the color in the settings menu but I couldn't find a control for gamma or contrast and for me that's just as important as getting the colors correct. Many people default to the EVF but it doesn't look like I'll be one of them.

While the focusing is pretty quick you have to know that I'm using the center sensor and using S-AF so I think we could all expect that focus would work as it should. Some day, for some reason, I'll try the focus tracking but it's not really the way I generally want to shoot with this kind of camera. I won't be doing sports with it so it seems a bit silly to get all worked up about slamming through a zillion frames while tracking an athlete running or otherwise doing kinetic stuff. I do like setting up the camera for street photography by setting the aperture to f8 or f11, setting the ISO to auto and figuring out a good hyperfocal manual focusing distance. Once you have all that set up you can generally just point the camera in the right direction at the right time and click the shutter. 

I do want to touch for just a few sentences on the exposure metering. Most of the time it "seems" a little hot or bright but I think that's a side effect of the meter being very accurate. I think we've come to expect metering to take into consideration light and dark scenes and automatically compensating for them. The X-100V doesn't seem to compensate in the same way. If I shoot a dark wall the camera aims for a neutral tone in the center of the grayscale. It's up to me to tweak it in one direction or another to compensate for light or dark scenes. I get a lot of use out of the EV dial and even though I've only done three, two hour long forays with the camera I'm getting a good sense of how much to compensate exposure based on how light or dark the scene in front of me might be. It works and it's very predictable and to me that means it's accurate. You just have to zero in your methodology based on getting to know the metering characteristics of this camera model.

Because of my previous experiences with Fuji cameras I seem to have over-bought on the 126S batteries. I have four of them. I could have called it quits with two since the camera is parsimonious with electricity. It's also chargeable via the USB-3 plug so I can pop in a cable while I'm driving somewhere and recharge fairly quickly. 

One my point of interest to me and then I'll let it rest for a while. I had some misgivings about buying a modern camera without image stabilization. I guess I've subconsciously bought into the hive prejudice that image stabilization is now as vital as being able to actually focus a camera. I've found that once I added a touchable extension to the bottom of the camera and practiced my old rangefinder stance I've been able to photograph non-moving objects at hand held shutter speeds down to about 1/15th of second with consistently good results. Couple that with a fast, sharp lens, a zero vibration body and fairly noise free ISOs to past 6400 and all of a sudden, for the most part, I.S. becames inconsequential. Would I like to have it? Sure. But for almost everything I'd use this camera for we'll have more than enough light to allow for high enough shutter speeds as necessary. Perhaps the whole design of the camera and the lens has a tighter integration between them that makes files sharper from the get go. It's a thought. 

So, am I regretting having bought the X100V? Not in the least. It's a good, little camera that reminds me in a very nice way of the years I spent shooting rangefinder cameras in the film days. It's simple, direct, non-threatening and fun. Just work to personalize the menu and the physical touch points and it works like a champ. More to come later. More photos below. As always, click to enlarge. 

that 70mm focal length is nice to have. 

Yes, I know I can crop in post. I could macramé my own car seats too, if I had the inclination. 

 

A pleasant afternoon spent in the studio with black and white film. And an actor.

I was remarking to Belinda about how the change over to digital had presaged my addiction to the wild merry-go-round of camera buying and how it was well nigh impossible to choose "just the right camera" to use in making the images I really want to make when she laughed, derisively, and said,  "The camera indecision has been going on since the day I met you.  You can hardly blame digital."  And I was prepared to defend myself because that's what guys do when they get called on their bullshit.  But I took a few moments to reflect.....

These studio images of Rene Zellweger reminded me of my dalliance in the small field of medium format cameras.  Convenient memory wants me to believe that I only dabbled in prestigious German and Swedish brands but actual filmic proof demands that I recognize that I also sampled most of the Japanese fare as well.  These images were done back in the early 1990's with the first Pentax 645 camera and whatever lens I was enthralled with at the time.  I remember liking the very hip sound of the motor and shooting at least twice as much film as I normally would have.  The lighting camera from a studio, electronic flash with a 60 inch Balcar Zebra Umbrella, covered with their unique (and thick) diffusion attachment.  These were the days when I eschewed fill light altogether so the one light is it.

I came to the Pentax 645 from the Pentax 67.  That camera was a beast and the film had a wonderful look BUT unless you were shooting in the studio that gigantic mirror took its toll interms of vibration and very slow flash sync.  It sync'd at 1/30th of a second and the mirror slap was agressive enough to create secondary image blurs even when mounted on a hernia inducing tripod.  The practice of the day was to only buy the model with the mirror lock-up and to use it on every shot.  Even when doing flash. You got your ten images and then you loaded again.  You can see why I was lured into the 645 system with its preloadable inserts and 15 images on a roll.  You could shot forever.  At one point I even own a second 645 with a fiber optic enabled Polaroid back to shoot tests with.  But the 1/60th of a second sync speed stunted my affections for that system as well.....

It was always fun to shoot with Rene.  She would show up and we'd shoot whatever one of us had in mind.  One day we'd go out and shoot cross processed negative film down by the train tracks and other days she'd float down the steep hill on Tenth St. towards Congress Ave. in a giant platform heels, a tiny black dress, a leopard print scarf and Bridgette Bardot sunglasses while balancing a coffee cup and saucer in her hands...(we were making an ART video about coffee entitled, "Coffee.  Is it a gift from God or a tool of Satan?" And we were using the very first Canon L1 high eight system in Austin.  Very bleeding edge.)  But the amazing thing to me, when I look back on our shoots is that fact that we rarely used the same camera twice.  There are negatives from both of the Pentax systems and from Leica M's, Nikons, Contaxes and Leica R's but we never did nail in a "favorite" camera.  

Which brings me back to Belinda's observation.  I've always enjoyed mixing it up.  In fact, I'm toying with the idea of opening a store for people like me.  We'd have a couple of all the coolest cameras and we'd charge a subscription rate.  Every day you could come in and trade out and use a different camera.  I haven't done my market research and it could very well be that I'm more or less unique in my indifference to routine.  Especially inventory induced routine.  But I don't think so.

None of my subjects have particularly cared which camera or lens or film I used.  They just wanted to enjoy the process and like the end results.  My only regret in my shoots with Rene and others at that time in my career is that I wasn't shooting with the square yet.  That would have made things a little more perfect.  As it is the work is still fun.  

It's cold and windy and wet today.  A nice day to stay inside and scan.  A nice day to blog.  I hope everyone is having a nice start to the week.

Art teaches us what it is to be human......

Snapshot taken in the museum with Olympus EP2 and 20mm Panasonic lens.

This is a plaster cast from the Battle Collection at the Blanton Musuem.  It used to live at the Humanities Research Center but it moved.  I didn't get the change of address form but I found the collection on sunday afternoon.  It had moved to nicer quarters.  Corner office.  I know they are plaster casts but they are amazing stand ins for their real counterparts.

I thought of some e-mails I'd received recently from photographers who wanted to know how to get much better much quicker so they could make "big" money.  I laughed because I was thinking about a quote from Oscar Wilde, "Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing worth knowing can be taught."

Then I thought of the long paid apprenticeship (paid by the family of the apprentice to the artist!!!!!)  and years and years of practice, and the years of learning about life and art that culminated in this work, and I just shook my head.  Learning by precious osmosis.  And repetition. The thrill of mastery.  The wonder of discovery.


It's not the destination that makes the man (or the artist).  It is the journey.  

Two great books about art that everyone should read.  One tells you how to keep at it.  The other one explains what it's all about.

I stepped back in time yesterday and bought a Nikon F4

It's silly.  The tidal wave of progress long since ground the champion cameras of yesteryear to the ocean floor of photography to be compacted over time into an archeological layer that future scholars will dislodge with tepid interest.  I couldn't help it.  The Nikon F4 (film) camera represented a revolution in so many ways.  It was the first professional autofocus camera.  It was the first of the Nikon F series cameras to come with a self contained motor drive.  One of the first cameras to include "predictive" autofocus.

From a manufacturing point of view it was the pinnacle intersection of mechanical and electronic symbiosis.  A blend of 1700 parts.  Each chosen to be the best ever crafted for this kind of tool.  The inner shell of the body was constructed with a specially concocted alloy that boasted incredible strength while also dampening vibration and shock.  The view through the eyepeice was designed to introduce as little dissonance between the object as it was and the object as it was observed.  Even the metering was new and spectacular.

But why would I fling $200 away on a piece of antiquated industrial art in the age of digital?  Well, precisely because this is the age of digital.

Let me explain.  In one or two generations the camera manufacturers will advance the craft of digital camera making in a number of ways.  One of which will be the removal of the moving mirror which must lift up to make an exposure and then drop down again into order to allow the photographer to see through the finder.  SLR cameras that still feature this sort of "thru the lens" viewing require precision ground, silver pentaprisms of extremely high quality glass.  The best are still pretty much hand finished.  The mirror mechanism in the professional cameras has to be engineered to rise and fall up to 12 times per second which requires appreciable mass to be started, accelerated and then stopped in milliseconds. The mirror mechanism also requires a highly precise shutter to shield the sensor from light until the exact moment of tightly timed, and highly repeatable exposure.  All this costs money while introducing less reliability than a totally electronic camera.  It costs lots more money.

So the drive is on to drive cost from professional grade cameras.  The first thing to go will be the pentaprism and the beautiful image projected optically through the finder.  The next thing to go will be the mechanical shutter.  In one fell swoop every mechanical connection between man and camera will be eliminated.  Withdrawn.  And this is generally a good thing for both camera manufacturers and people who will never experience a "real" camera because both will save money.  And the difference in images may not even amount to a hill of beans.

But it seems as though the tactile integration of man and machine will be greatly diminished.  Like a race car driver who can no longer shift gears.  A mechanic with computers but no tools.  A chef with a microwave.  The Nikon F4 represents to me the collective drive that existed in the last cenury to make a machine that wasn't sensible and efficient (or worse, cost effective), not the best in a category,  not just "good enough"  but the very best machine that could be built, for its intended purpose,  with no holds barred.  And in my mind it's come to represent something that's missing from our digital culture:  The Pursuit of Creating the Most Excellent Art Possible.  No excuses.

Since we capitulated to the power of the web, and the implied cost effectiveness of digital cameras, we've gone down a sinister path that may be more devastating to our culture than the present economic disaster.  We've allowed ourselves, collectively, to be subdued by the economics of process progress.  The web represents the lowest common denominator of quality precisely because every image placed upon it is a compromise between size and quality. Resolution and loading time.  Color depth and quickness.  Surrendering to the idea that color is just relative since no two monitors will perform identically.  We work with the expectation that everything will turn out to be crappier looking than ever before so we aim for that target.

The economic fear that we live with is already reducing the number of printed magazine pages, month by month. The driver of the professional digital camera market has been a relentless pursuit of higher and higher resolution but that will become increasingly meaningless as the drive to the web accelerates.  Even ad agencies are finding ways to make "social marketing" and "networking" profitable (in direct opposition to the intention of social networking......) which will further decay the need for true quality.

As the demand for large prints diminished so will the demand for the last remaining photographic labs and their master printers.  All photographic art will be destined for the screen or the wild interpretations of ink jet printers on papers of dubious quality and keeping potential.  We, as a culture, will have done to art exactly what we have done to the DVD player and the hamburger:  We will have commodified it, driven it brutally to it's lowest price with all the attendant compromises and we will have sucked the "humanism" out of the process in a vain and egalitarian attempt to make all things accessible to all people.

So, the F4 convinces me that the expedition in search of excellence is still part of human nature....even though it is temporarily in hibernation.  The feel of the camera is superb.  The feedback of the shutter and mirror noise is sensuous.  And the looks of my photographic peers are priceless as they try to figure out just what the hell I'm up to now.

Bottom line:  You owe it to yourself to go out and buy the industrial art of your era.  The Nikon F2's, F3's and F4's.  The Leica M3's, M4's, M5's and M6's.  The portable Hermes typewriter.  The Linn Sondek turntable or the Luxman tube amplifiers.  Once they disappear, like spirits and whimsy in old fairy tales, they disappear forever.  And over time the tool, and the imperative it represented recede and finally vanish.

That's why I bought a used F4.

Note.  I'm doing a little experiment.  I'm buying color film from Costco.  It's Fuji 400 speed color print film and it can be had for around a dollar and change per roll.  Each roll gives you 24 individual frames to fill.  When you've got a handful of the rolls shot you take them back to Costco where their lab develops the film and color corrects and prints the film and finally puts all the images on a disk for a very low price.  Then I'll come home and look at them.  And I'll be happy that the images exist in a physical form.  That they can be physically cataloged and reinterpreted.  It's comforting.