Just another day.

 Sony a77 with 16-50mm 2.8

I flipped my day upside down.

I slept in late.

I skipped my swim.

I avoided my office. 

I saddled up my car and flowed into downtown.

I got a breakfast taco and some coffee.

I talked to a nice person I'd never met before.

She's has a business importing and selling Fair Trade

fashion accessories from third world countries.

We had fun talking about advertising and photography.

Then I went for a walk.

Whose flowers?

They were on the sidewalk just south of the grocery store.

I was going to pick them up but I didn't know what I'd do with them.

I photographed them, wondered who they were intended for 

and then shrugged and walked off.

I finished drinking my coffee in the middle of the bridge.

I looked for a trash can.  There wasn't one.

I decided to photograph my empty coffee up with Shoal Creek in the 

background.  I love the out of focus background.

I picked up my cup and went on looking for a trash can.

The coffee was from Mexico.  At least that's what the little sign next 

to the coffee pot

said.

Every downtown business is stocking up for SXSW.

The chubby guys with the black button down shirts

under black sports coats worn over black jeans have landed from the 

coasts.  Their eyeglasses are geometric and 

fashion forward.  They all dress the same.

When all glasses are fashion forward......

I hadn't seen a Yumi Ice Cream Truck before.

I loved the product illustrations on the sides.

The swirl cone looks incredible

and 

the Håagen-Dazs looks really rich.

A nice burst of color on a grey and misty day.

I've finally figured out how to do a 100% crop.

Now all the people who must know will be able to know.

This is the window at Estillo. 

They sell "fashion." 

It looks like clothes to me.

The top one is 100% the bottom one is full frame.

"I hate EVFs.  If XXXXX camera company switches to them I'm 

switching to YYYYYY."

"I love EVFs.  I'm selling all the cameras I own that don't have EVF's."  

I love the middle ground.  I get to shoot with both.

Switching is fun.  Even chocolate pudding would get boring

if I had it at every meal...

Sometimes I really want chocolate mousse. 

"Are you from out of town?"  "No we're just heading out for lunch. We live here."

"Can I take your picture?  Would you squinch a little closer together?"

"Me?  Yeah, I live here too.  I'm just talking a day off to do my hobby."

"Have fun!"  "You too!"

(And don't forget to dial in a stop of exposure compensation for that bright sky

 in the  background. Got it.)  

At some point, for some people, life is all about disk golf.

That's a great collection of disks.  Some go left and some go right.

Some go straight ahead.  A man's got to use the right tool for each throw.

I used my zoom lens.

This is the guy who owns the brightly colored disks above.

This is Trevin.  He's in radio.  He does a show 

on 101x every night from 6 to 10 pm.

He was going to hide the cigarette but I liked the "retro" 

charm.  Thanks for posing!

I made him black and white to offset the color from the disks.

I found this fellow at the Belmont.  It's a popular restaurant and bar

on West Sixth Street.

He's re-wiring the whole place.  And he's an electrician.

Isn't that an amazing yellow door in the background?

I don't think he had anything to do with that.

I felt a little guilty since he seemed to be working hard 

and I was just out walking around with a camera

being a tourist in my own town.

I was walking around with a Sony a77 camera and the big, honking

16-50mm f2.8 zoom lens.

You shouldn't be surprised since I talked about that camera

last year.  It's been out of stock forever because of the floods in Thailand.

Did I mention that I really like EVFs?

It's a nice camera.  If you need one with lots and lots of resolution you might consider it.

If you need a camera that takes Canon or Nikon lenses it's probably not a good choice....

Also, I've read but haven't tested this for myself, some testers say that the files are noisier by a stop than other cameras in its class.  I wouldn't know.  I was shooting at ISO 200 most of the time.

I'm getting ready to do a shot in the studio at ISO 50.  I've heard that the 

Dynamic Range at that setting is pretty darn amazing.

But I'm sure I'll show you what turns out for me in due time.

Don't buy this camera just because I did.

I have a long history of buying strange gear.

Mellow Kirk signing off.

Post note 5:11 PM same day:  It's dark and grey and raining here and getting colder by the minute.  What a wonderful time to be in the studio, looking west out my wall of windows and working on a book.  The glow of my laptop screen tanning my face, and my mind churning out little plot points and descriptions.  Beats the hell out of working.

Just photography. That's what I signed up for.

If you're not shooting you're wasting your time.  If we're arguing about gear we're both wasting our time.

TOO MUCH MAGIC. A book that helps explain our inability to stop buying gear. And much more.

I have a book addiction and I'm not ashamed of it.  There's a ton of great stuff out there in the book-o-sphere.  And the focus it takes to write and produce a great book means that there's more signal and less noise in a book than in most other media.  I know from past experience that most of my readers here at VSL love to read.  Otherwise they wouldn't trudge through my longer posts.  We've pretty much scared off the people who profess to not like reading much...

Today, instead of crooning about the latest cameras or doing another heartfelt post about shooting with your heart instead of your brain, I'm reviewing a book that has absolutely nothing to do with photography and everything to do with why we enjoy photography less, feel as though we have less time to devote to our photography and can't seem to get a foothold onto the steep cliff of creative expression.  And why we're spinning our wheels instead of getting stuff done.

Reader, Jason Benlevi, sent me his book entitled, "Too Much Magic.  Pulling the Plug on the Cult of Tech." (full disclosure:  It is a review copy, paperback, and no other value or exchange of services has occurred to, in any way, influence my reviewing of the book.)

The book is both a history of our entanglement with, and accommodation of, all the devices and programming and social interfaces that the past 100 years of technological advancement brought to the consumer.  Benlevi makes a very good case that every new application and device has a useful side and a dark side and that we, as consumers, are being pushed into choices and use patterns without informed consent. And without truthfully acknowledging the dark sides.

I  won't go into detail and spoil a great read for you but one of the statements that jumped out at me concerned the shift in our focus of brain and financial resources.  At one point, two generations back, we (the U.S.A.) sent men to the moon.  Now, with our focus on recreational and sales oriented websites as targets for our joint venture dollars the only way we can get our people to the international space station is to hitch a ride on a Russian spacecraft.  We our the masters of "I'm at Starbucks!"  "Do these shoes make me look fat?" and other important social interactions.  But at the same time we earn less than we did 20 years ago and work harder.

Benlevi is a good writer and he makes the concepts flow.  His time lining of our tech history helps all the concepts fall nicely into place.  His ability to show both sides of the tech coin comes from his own long history in the technology world. He is a hardly an outsider. 

If you've felt uneasy about the massive intrusion and implied necessity of social networking in your life but you don't understand why you feel uneasy or what to do about it, then this book is for you.

If you think an iPad is a tool to enhance your creativity then this book is for you. 

We are being stalked for our consumer information every minute we're on the web or on our phones.  The people who vacuum up our information are deciding what we will see and what we won't.  They are using the information to help us spend more and to spend it more often.  They are helping us relentlessly upgrade.  Find out how and find out why.

I got the book yesterday afternoon and finished the 361 pages over coffee this morning.  That's all I have to say because I'm off to pull the plug on my Facebook account.

Sometimes one light is all you need.

One of my favorite portraits.  "Creating interesting portraits one person at a time...."

You can't use that. It's not professional.

This is a homemade florescent bank.  We cobbled it together to use it as a fill light in a giant data center that was all lit with similar florescent tubes.  It worked great.  The images were exactly what the client wanted.  It worked better than thousands of dollars of filtered flash would have.  It cost less than fifty bucks.  It's held together with tape and bungie cords.  There are chunks of cardboard that separate the tubes.  It's not pretty it just works.

Marketing works harder at sucking the individuality out of art and life better than just about anything else except poverty.  When you are poor you have to use what you have at hand.  But when you have enough pocket change rattling around you can get sucked into the whirlpool of "how the professionals do it."  And pretty soon you'll be shooting just like everyone else.

I wrote a column for Michael Johnston's blog, TheOnlinePhotographer, that ran on Sunday.  In it I talked about the Panasonic/Leica 25mm Summilux lens for the micro four thirds systems.  One commenter asked, in so many words, how I could convince clients that "Kirk+G3 = Professional?"

(The G3: referencing a < $550 small sensor camera).

This comes up in every facet of being a working photographer.  It's all based on looking in the rear view mirror of working life. How we did things a decade ago.  That's how it seeps into the current idiom.  The truth is that there's no longer any even imaginary line between what tools are professional and which ones are just screaming fun.  Now that the overwhelming target space for our "visual genius" is the iPhone screen or the website viewed in a coffee shop on a 15 inch laptop the metaphorical sky is the limit.  Not the number or provenance of our pixels.

Here's how I think of the whole subject...

Old school "pro" computer = The big tower with multiple processors and the giant monitor. The rationale: Big files demand fast processors.  The speed saves me time and money...

The reality = Most photographers would find the latest i7 equipped laptops screamin' fast.  And cheaper.  I ditched big computers in 2007 and I've never looked back.  My office set up right now?  A 13 inch Apple MacBook Pro with an i5 processor hooked to a 24 inch monitor.  Runs fast and works well.  

Old school "pro" camera = Canon 1 series, Nikon D3 series.  According the the experts who don't make money taking photographs any camera used by a "pro" must be weatherproofed, watersealed, shoot at 10 frames per second, have a shutter that will last far longer than their interest in said camera, and the camera must be made out of many pounds of metal strong enough to endure re-entry from outer space and impact with the Sonoran Desert at terminal velocity.  In the current space the camera must also have tons and tons of pixels.

The reality = Given that 80 percent of the images go to the web, that very few people make prints anymore and that ever advancing digital technology makes camera bodies more or less disposable there are tons and tons of people getting paid for making images with Canon Rebels, Sony nex5's and other small and delicious cameras.  The size of the body is meaningless as an evaluation of final quality in use.  My current small cameras spank the big, expensive cameras of yesteryear and our clients aren't really pestering us for anything better or more "spec'd."  Twelve megapixels is still the sweet spot for most work from a size/quality paradigm and sixteen megapixels is huge. 

Bulletproof?  The only two cameras I've had that required major service (or any service at all) have been a Canon 1 series camera with a defective circuit board and a Nikon D300 that backfocused everything in the universe.  The smaller, cheaper cameras?  In my small, anecdotal survey?  Much more reliable.

I'll trade face detection autofocus with eye preference over extra seals every day.  Makes my job easier.  Makes the focus better.  If I spent my days in San Diego, dedicated to photographing the Navy Seals in action I'd probably want an "everything proofed" camera but most photographers I know shoot in offices and in cushy suburban neighborhoods. 

I prefer using the micro four thirds cameras when it's appropriate.  They're more fun.  And, for most of the stuff I do the images are just great.  If you shoot sports you need something different.  But that's one of those YMMV things.  For ad guys the whole live view thing is a wonderful.  Do I need an optical view finder? Only to impress my hobbyist friends.

Old School "pro" lenses = The pervasive idea is big, fat, white zoom lenses with f-stops of 2.8 and lots and lots of knobs. Or big, fat primes with gold or red rings around the barrels. Heavy, weatherproofed and beknighted with a string of letters like ASPH, ED, UD, IF, and of course, LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL.

Reality? =  While I've got some bigger lenses in a drawer somewhere the stuff I use looks more like fun stuff.  I like little zooms like the 14-45mm zoom I have on my G3.  Or the 14-42mm zoom I have on my EP3.  If I'm lighting stuff the apertures are fast enough.  If I'm outside the lenses are always fast enough.  If I need better I switch to cute little prime lenses (at a third the cost of their bigger cousins)  with apertures that are just as fast as the "pro" lenses but give me a little more focus coverage because of their shorter focal lengths.  But more importantly not having to carry all the prestige around with me leaves me more energy to explore and be nice.

Old School "Pro" lights = Profoto.  Big boxes. Big monolights.  Lots of big accessories.  Many stands.  Lots of sandbags.  Lots of assistants to hold everything together.  In fairness though I should mention that the great middle of the professional market has transitioned to plastic flashes from Paul Buff without too much grumbling.  

Reality? = Most of the images I see could be made with a couple of $100 speedlights and a couple of slave cells.  My five figure project in December was done entirely with three LED panels (maybe $1,000 total).  You light with what you need.  Most pros have a small set of electronic flashes, some portable flashes and a few fun lights like LEDs or florescents.  If you need more you rent more.  The real art is knowing when to turn most of it off...

This pro versus amateur thing is so silly.  When I talk to guys who've been doing it for years I hear the same story over and over again.  They started taking photos with a (fill in the blank/advanced amateur camera) simple, basic camera, shot lots and lots of fun stuff that people really liked.  Went "pro" and bought all the trappings and then spent the next twenty years trying to get back to that simpler time. Why? Because everyone, including themselves, loved the images from the time when the pictures were about the idea or the emotion instead of the magnesium alloy and product positioning.

Remember the early cellphones? Remember when you owned the Motorola "brick"?  Was that more professional than an iPhone?  Could it do as much?

Remember the Buick Electra?  Remember when you owned that Suburban? Was it better transportation than your Mini Cooper or your Outback?

"Professional" is such a lovely advertising buzzword because it connotes acceptance of a defined standard. But what is professional video in the time of the Canon 5Dmk2 or the Panasonic GH2?  Is it still a $50,000 Sony Betacam?  Will it matter on Youtube?  Does it matter on Vimeo?  What if the smaller cameras create files that looks just as good? Or better?  Now you can afford to be a videographer.  Now more people can afford to be photographers.  All they need to supply is intelligence, taste and elbow grease.

In medicine and law "professional" means more training, not more gear.  

Old School Photographer = We conjure up the hip guy in black with a warehouse full of studio space, surrounded by high power popping flashes in enormous umbrellas telling hot models to pout with more energy.  The guy is surrounded by legions of assistants.  Some look at big screens as the photographer shoots.  Some shout out encouragement.  Some flirt with the hot client.  Some flirt with the coterie of hot models waiting in the wings.  Some flirt with each other.  All wait breathlessly for the magic.  All vie to be the next one to hold the prestigious medium format camera.  All wear their black baseball caps backwards. It's only for webcasts, only for TV.  Only for the movies...

The Reality? = For most it's a process of daily marketing, a trip to a client's store or factory or restaurant to shoot.  Setting up a few lights.  Taking good photographs.  Billing reasonable amounts and delivering images that will help to move a client's products and services.  Sometimes they'll bring along an assistant to help carry some gear up the inevitable stairs or across the parking lot.  Headshots in our smaller and efficient studios.  The day-to-day needs of local commerce.

Back to the original question.  Most clients who know the difference between professional camera models are themselves deeply interested in photography and would have shot their own products or people but they needed you to do so because something needed to be lit or people needed to be posed or the client could belay their ego and admit that you routinely found better compositions than they would have and they were willing to pay for your services.

If they know nothing about the nuts and bolts of photography they probably hired you because they went to your website and looked and saw what they needed to see and have/had a reasonable expectation that you'd deliver a similar and satisfactory product.  They didn't see your camera or your lights or your computer when they hired you.  Nor (I hope) did you bring the gear along to your pre-production meeting.  If you want to be considered professional your first obligation is to deliver at least to the level that you advertise on your website.  And the kind of gear you need in order to be able to do that is something that's up to you.  My wife is a graphic designer.  She couldn't care less what camera or lens I use on her jobs.  The final tally is binary.  I got the image she wanted or I didn't.  End of story.

Professional is how you act and deliver, not something you lug around over your shoulder.

A re-posting of a "last year's favorite."

2.12.2011

Street Shooting with abandon. The joy of strolling and looking.

Rome, Italy. 

When we're immersed in the rhythm of our everyday lives we tend to overbook and underlook.  We scan for danger and opportunity.  Will the woman in the Chevy Suburban, juggling her latte and her cellphone, run the red light and slam into my car?  Can I grab that parking space before anyone else?  But when I go off to shoot somewhere (even if it's just downtown in my own hometown) there's a mental shift that moves me to disregard tight scheduling, turn off the cellphone (yes! They do have off switches!) and stop running the obsessive mental checklist that clicks away in my head.


I allow myself to succumb to the ebb and flow of the visual life in front of me.  I get up early and grab the camera (one camera) that I want to use based on how I feel in the moment.  I usually feel conflicted about taking more than one lens.  If I take two I find myself confused about which one might be best for each subject.  There is not "right" or "wrong" lens so the choice becomes mired in a web of countervailing possibilities.  My mind moves from decisive to indecisive and the energy that first attracted me to a subject seeps away, replaced with a paralyzing ambiguity.   One lens and one camera is best.  It's easier to wrap your vision around a subject than to be enslaved by choice.


I want to look like everyone else in the street.  I want people to think, "There's a guy.  He has a camera."  Instead of,  "There's a photographer."  It seems transparently the same but it's not.   And the people you encounter shift their demeanor based on the display you create about yourself.  One camera and a lens might say, "Tourist",  while a bagful of paraphernalia marks you as someone actively hunting images.  You become someone who "wants" something from someone else instead of someone immersing themselves in the milieu.  And people are wary of other people who want things from them.


I don't linger unless I'm trying to line up and image.  If I work without feeling sneaky people very rarely take notice of what I'm doing.  If someone catches me "taking" their image I smile and ask, with my eyes, if it will be okay to take another one.  Sometimes I put the camera down and just savor a thing in front of me because I know its beauty might be transient and inappropriate for "image capture."  Like closing your eyes and enjoying the song rather than focusing on how to capture an image of the music.


When I go out for my walks I'm drawn to scenes that show what it's like to be human.  The couple falling in love.  The woman who seems displeased about something.  Perhaps it's her ice cream.  Maybe she didn't pass her driver's exam.  We've all been in both emotional places and the photographs have the power to remind me of my own feelings.  That's why I take them.


When I walk often and for a long time with one camera I come to know it in a much different way than I do a camera I pick up only every so often.  It's like driving a car for years and knowing just exactly where everything is.  Then, one day you take your car in for service and you get a loaner car, and everything feels awkward and out of place.  It hampers your ability to drive in the subconscious and fluid manner that you've become accustomed to.


People choose cameras for so many reasons.  But I think they largely overlooked how it will feel and wear after months and months or years and years of use.


Street photography requires that you suspend your own greed for success.  The things you think you'll find rarely come up.  But if you have a list of predetermined images in your head when you begin you will have made it so much harder to find the images you weren't looking for.  And those might be the images that will surprise and delight you exactly because you never knew you were looking for them until they found you.  If you learn to let go of the desire for control you'll learn to stop suffering for your art and start having fun.


Might sound like "New Age" madness or hippy stuff but before you go back out to shoot again try reading the Tao Te Ching and see if it changes how you react with the world.

Panasonic G3 with fun lens on front. (Photo Only).

G3 and Leica Lens photographed by stable mate, Olympus EP3 and 45mm 1.8.


For examples see my column this morning at the onlinephotographer