Having too much fun with a solid camera and an "ancient" lens. Let's go wide!

I was so wrapped up in the idea of how cool it would be to buy the Sigma 24-35mm f2.0 Art lens that I almost forgot that I have a lens that pretty much covers those focal lengths. Oh, how am I kidding, my current lens covers a full frame of silicon from 20-40mm; and it's already paid for. 

I never thought of myself as a wide angle lens user but lately I've been pushing the wide limits a bit more than I did in years past. In fact, one of my favorite projects from last year was an annual report from an electrical utility that was done predominantly with the wide end of my old, Nikon 25-50mm f4.0 lens, with a splash of Rokinon 14mm f2.8 tossed in for good measure. 

I had just about convinced myself that I "needed" the Sigma zoom to "up my game" in the new year. I had the money put aside but everything changed when the CFO stepped into my office and requested (demanded) yet another check for the IRS, effectively draining my slush fund for new toys for at least the better part of the first quarter.

I was pacing glumly around the studio wondering, "What in heaven's name will I do if I suddenly "need" a cool, wide angle lens for a vital client project??" I fretted. Then it dawned on me that I should look in the crowded Nikon drawer in the studio tool chest and take a quick inventory of the "solutions" available to me at a moment's notice. 

That's when I noticed the "sleeper" lens lurking in the back right corner of the drawer. It was the Tamron (yes, Tamron) 20-40mm f2.7 to 3.5 SP Aspherical zoom lens. A screwdriver drive, early AF lens that hit the market back in 1994. It was on the market until 2000. I had remembered it being considered pretty good in the film days so when I saw one in good shape for around $100 at my favorite used shop I bought it. I shot with it once or twice on my downtown walks and the defaulted to using the 24mm end of the 24-120mm or the 25mm end of the Nikon 25-50mm when I found myself in need of moderately wide angle focal lengths. Occasionally I needed a really wide lens and the Rokinon 14mm (in conjunction with a custom len profile in PhotoShop) handles those situations nicely. I bought into the general stigma about older, third party lenses and as result I've previously sentenced the 20-40mm to a life of lost potential...Until yesterday. 

Bereft of discretionary funds needed to buy the Sigma Art zoom I took comfort in putting the almost orphaned 20-40mm on the front of a Nikon D810 and went out for a therapeutic walk through the old town. 

I finally gave the Tamron 20-40mm lens it's chance to prove that it was more that tool kit drawer ballast. And I must say that I liked everything I saw. Wide open it's not perfect but at f8.0 it struts around like an "L" lens or a gold banded Nikon lens. There's a bit of complex distortion but I'll build a profile for the lens at 20mm and give up worrying about distortion anywhere else. 

Most of the images here are shot at 20mm and at f8.0. The lens is sharp and the colors are really great. I've almost given up pining for the Art lens. Almost. But I am fairly confident that I can use this lens for lots of stuff. It's one I've overlooked. But not anymore. 

Denver Grafitti. 2013.

I'm heading to Denver for the weekend of Jan. 22-24 for a conference of Craftsy.com instructors. I expect to learn much more about marketing. My upcoming trip reminded me of this graffiti I saw (and liked very much) on previous trip to the "mile high city." I photographed it with the eccentric (and quite capable) Pentax K-01.

Sadly, I won't have any free time to spend with Denver area friends but I hope to be back soon for some personal time off. We'll see what the CFO says...

On another note, our television commercial shoot last Saturday was quite successful and I hope to be able to share the spot with you later this month. All the footage is currently in the hands of a capable editor.

The year is off to a good start. We've already completed our first four assignments and have three more booked for next week, before the conference in Denver. Commercial photography and video production are alive and well in 2016.

Swimmer. USMS Short Course Nationals. 2008.

While it is nice to have a state of the art lens and camera I'm thinking that standing in the right spot is at least as important.

I'm slow to think things through. But I think I've figured out why dedicated sports shooters get the best shots and make shooting sports look easy, but feel damn hard for the rest of us. It's the same reason the best architectural photographs seem to have a magic touch in doing their work. We may buy the same tilt/shift lenses and the same cameras but there's something a bit better, a bit more pleasing about the way their work always seems to turn out. Same thing with landscape photographers. There are legions of retired businessmen and engineers, accountings and certainly doctors and dentists, who can afford gear that's even better than the stuff a full time landscape artist might be able to afford but for some reason the committed artists always seem to get the shot everyone else wishes they'd gotten.

After 25 years of shooting theater I think I understand the missing link! It's not the gear, it's knowing where to stand with the gear, that makes all the difference in the world. Work in sports photography long enough and you learn the stuff you cover forward and backward. The intimate knowledge, coupled with years and years of trial and error, eventually lead you to anticipate where the action will end up. This means you can get ready with the right focal length and settings. You can line up the right background and the wait for all the moving pieces to pull themselves into position. You get it because you've tried it all before and you were smart enough to

There is a lot of talk on the web about the new Phase One camera. 100 megabytes sounds good...

Nearly eight years ago I used to write articles and reviews for Studio Photography Magazine (another casualty of the digital transition) and in my role as a freelance technology writer I got asked to review some pretty cool stuff. Sometimes interesting boxes would appear at my doorstep. One day I was shocked and amazed when I got a box from Leica containing the brand new M8.2 and four brand new lenses. The Fedex or UPS driver left the box, unsigned for, right at the front door. I thought that was crazy and risky until I had a similar thing happen with a box from Phase One that contained their latest 40 megapixel, medium format camera and a trio of really nice lenses. $40,000 worth of cool camera gear just hanging out in front of my studio and thunderclouds looming in the northwestern sky....

But, as usual, I digress. What I really wanted to talk about today is the announcement of the latest Phase One camera, with 100 megapixels. The underlying question: Is this camera at all relevant to working photographers or enthusiasts today? I know there is a market for it but for photographers who are not employees of large corporations or museums; does this camera make any sense at all?

When I reviewed the 40 megapixel Phase One camera (based on a Mamiya body) the one thing I really liked about it was somewhat independent from the pixel count. I like the way the larger sensor emulated the look for medium format film cameras by allowing the use of longer lenses for the same angle of view as shorter lenses would give on smaller format cameras. Even a fast 80mm lens gave a different look when coupled with the larger sensor. One could say the benefit of the system was the way it drew images. 

While I understand the benefits of higher megapixel counts coupled with low noise CMOS sensors I think that the designers of medium format cameras (and sensors) have been going in the wrong direction. They should have moderated the pursuit

OT: back to the push-ups for a moment.

Self portrait #12

When I visited my portrait subject, a 93 year old physician, today at his house I noticed that he had an exercise mat and several 10 and 20 pound hand weights in his day room. We talked about exercise a bit and he told me just how important maintaining muscle mass is when aging. I mentioned the push-ups and he countered with the weights. I asked "why?" and he told me he never liked doing push-ups and found weights to be a good alternative. He's a good role model. I noticed he wasn't even out of breath when we climbed up the stairs to the third floor to look at cameras (tangential connection to the blog). 

Thinking about it I decided to share my push-up progress with the brain trust here at VSL; having written about it recently. I am now, after weeks of building up to it, able to execute 50 proper push-ups in one set without falling apart or breaking into a sweat. I am now pushing for my ultimate goal of doing 100 in a continuous set but I am breaking up the training by doing one continuous set of 50 in the morning and then two sets of 25 in the evenings. Once I get used to it I'll increase the number of reps in the first set in the evening until I am do continuous set of 50 in the evening. 

I plan to keep the numbers the same after I hit this intermediary goal but to then start slowing down the push ups to put more pressure on the muscles involved. 

Someone mentioned a concern about blood pressure in one of the comments. I took that seriously and have been monitoring my blood pressure after my set of 50 reps in the morning. I do the set and then rest for 60 seconds and then take my blood pressure with an automatic wrist cuff. 

My blood pressure this morning after the 50 set and the 6o seconds rest was 130/70 with a pulse rate of 68. My average reading, done at random times during the day, seated is usually about 118/60 with a pulse rate of 58-60.  I don't think I am taking too much of a risk at the moment but I guess it's always a good idea to monitor. 

But how are all those push ups paying off? I am stronger in the pool and it's reflected in a new ability to shift down about 5 seconds on intervals (based on sets of 100 yards). I also seem to have more endurance in the middle of a set than I did only a month or two ago. I am also noticing a slight reduction in waist line measurements. Other than that, no radical changes. I think I'll have to stay at it for a longer period of time to see really obvious changes. 

Nothing has changed in my sensitivity to getting up in the dark, driving to the pool in 32 degree temperatures and then flinging myself into the chilly water. I still hate process right up to the point when we get sufficiently warmed up. The hardest part? Getting out of the pool in a brisk wind and running the 200 feet to the locker room. Ouch!

I make house calls. I packed my little black bag and made one this morning. It was good.

This photograph has little or nothing to do with the subject of the blog post other than to show 

the opposite end of the aging spectrum; the playfulness and whimsy.

I'd love to post an image of today's subject but I can't until it goes through "the process."

For the last two decades I've done a lot of photographic and video work for a large company that is owned by 120+ doctors and which provides imaging services all over central Texas. Last week I got a phone call from one of the people in the management department. The phone call turned into a request that I make an "official" portrait of the company's founder. The man is a retired doctor. He founded the company in 1954, here in Austin, Texas. He is now 93 years old. 

The manager and I discussed the logistics of setting up the session. Usually, the doctors from that group come to our little studio in west Austin and I photograph them against a canvas background that their marketing team likes, and has been requesting for nearly 15 years. There's a continuity there. But when I heard that the portrait subject was 93 years old I quickly suggested that we do a "house call." I knew it would be easier to pack up a lighting kit, camera and the "timeless" background and head on over to the doctor's house. And I thought it would be much less hassle for our sitter.

The doctor, my portrait subject, called the next day to set up a time. He lives in a central neighborhood, about ten minutes away from my studio. This morning I loaded three portable flashes, a big umbrella, some light stands and a smaller umbrella as my lighting kit. I grabbed the Nikon D810 and the 24-120mm lens as my basic camera kit (Olympus EM5.2 as the perennial "car" camera for back-up) and I added the 5x7 foot collapsible background to complete the tool selection. 

I had photographed this particular doctor about six years ago when several of his younger friends retired from the group. He met me at the front door of his house wearing a dark suit and a perfectly tied tie. We scouted the downstairs of the house and decided to set up in a living room area that had nice light coming in big windows. We chatted as I set up my lights and my camera and I didn't feel the barrier that a difference of ages and generations used to create in my mind. I guess I'm coming to grips with my own aging. 

The lighting was my typically simple light with a large, soft main light used in close, a light on the background for separation and a passive fill via a white pop-up reflector on the opposite side from the main light. The whole set could be contained in about 15 by 15 feet. 

I wanted to make a standing portrait because people's suits look better that way and have fewer wrinkles and fabric bulges to contend with. I found a high backed, dining room chair to use as a "posing" device and a place for him to anchor his hands and provide a bit of support. I love the backs of chairs and use them this way as often as I can find them. 

After I had the primary portrait I asked if we could do an alternate because I loved the Robin's egg blue that his walls were painted. He agreed and I quickly did a number of frames against that alternative background. 

When I finished up the doctor told me that he was quite interested in photography and always had been. I followed him upstairs to the third floor of his home where he showed me a display case filled with the cameras he had owned and used over the years. We talked with genuine nostalgia about loading our own 35mm film when we came across his old, bulk film loader. That led to a discussion about doing our own black and white darkroom work.  We talked about his time in the navy in World War Two, and we talked about aging and living well. We agreed to catch up over a cup of coffee in the next week or so; but only if he likes the images we did today. I hope he loves them, I'd enjoy going back.

Photography is fascinating work because you repeatedly get permission to insert yourself into someone else's life and expand your knowledge of what different people are like. It's a never ending story. The camera is my ticket for entry. 

Today the business this man started employs hundreds of people, provides well for over 100 specialized partners/doctors, and helps to diagnosis and treat lots of health issues for people. What an incredible legacy!