A Small Selection of Lenses Has a Number of Benefits for Urbanscape Photography. Not Least of Which is You Have Less to Carry.

 

"When you only have a hammer everything looks like a nail."  But you get really good at finding nails and better and better at driving them home.

I have a Leica M240 camera and a Q2 camera and in so many ways I'm just realizing they are mirrors of each other....at least in the ways that I use them. When I first pondered the idea of getting a Q2 I was repeatedly stopped in my tracks by my resistance to buying a camera that "only" has on it a "fixed" 28mm lens. My traditional way of thinking about lenses and sensors came from a time when digital camera resolutions were measured in single digits and not being able to zoom in or crop an image was more or less a reality. But I was really intrigued by the Q cameras and finally metaphorically "held my nose" and bought the camera "in spite of" that 28mm lens. For months afterwards I would opine to anyone who cared to pay attention that I would love the camera so much more if it had a 35mm or 40mm lens instead. 

But they something happened. I started to play around with the in camera frame cropping. The ability to see a composition surrounded by new frame lines that would give me, in addition to the 28mm, a 35mm and a 50mm with very little reduction in actual quality --- and even a decent (but lower res) 75mm, in a pinch gave me an increased appreciation for the whole idea. As I experimented more and more I found that the 35 or so megapixels of the 35mm crop resulting in completely convincing files. Why would it not since the resolution was still higher than most of the other cameras I have in inventory, even at full frame? 

At some point I became totally comfortable considering the Q2 as a 28-50mm compact camera and have been using it that way ever since. And loving the images that come out of it at any of the three finalized angles of view. 

When I bought an M camera I thought I would mostly use it as a body with a semi-permanently attached 50mm lens. That's the way I always used my M3 camera back in the early 1980's and I postulated that it would be the same with any new or future M camera. But my experiences with the Q2 made me want more angle of view flexibility. Especially if the M was the only camera I brought along for a photographic adventure. Of course I ended up with an M kit that is, basically, a 28, 35 and 50mm system. While in a side by side comparison the Q2 blows away the usability and the quality of using a 28mm lens on the M240, if you don't do a side by side comparison you'd be forgiven for thinking your 28mm Carl Zeiss lens on a 24 megapixel M body was pretty damn good. 

But you'd also have to admit that using the 28mm with the frame lines stretched to the very edges of the camera's optical finder is a lot less pleasant than looking through the wonderful 28mm EVF finder image in the Q2. 

In the M240's maiden voyage abroad (with me) I ended up duplicating pretty much what I already have in the Q2. At least when it comes to available and usable focal lengths/angles of view.  Silly me? Not in the least. This makes the Q2 and the M240 system the almost perfect back up cameras for each other. If, God forbid, one of the cameras bit the dust or was otherwise taken out of the equation the other camera would be able to make a near seamless replacement. 

In some regards the trip to Montreal with these two cameras was a learning experience for me. And I'm not too old to learn new things. Really.

What I really came away with was my understanding that the Q2 might be the ultimate travel camera for someone who wants to travel light, have high quality files and never worry about bringing along and changing multiple lenses in the field. I learned to trust the 15+ megapixel 50mm crops in the camera and became absolutely comfortable with the 35+ megapixel 35mm crops. If I found images that worked well at 28mm then that was obviously the ultimate sweet spot.

Was it a mistake to bring along the M camera and all three of my designated system lenses? No. I mean,  how else would you compare different cameras and methods of working if you couldn't fluidly switch back and forth between the two options? Especially when not only is handling pertinent but also differences in color and image quality. 

One thing I did notice was that no matter how great the 28mm lens on the Q2 or the M240 might be I still have a preference for the 50mm angle of view. I like distilling stuff down. But as my favorite (now retired) graphic designer points out, one of my compositional weaknesses is that I do tend to crop too tight. Not enough space around subjects. Oh well. It's always a work in progress. 

Here's a smattering of images from the two cameras and their respective lenses: 

Funny. At least to me...how much difference a change in the angle of composition makes 

in the images just above and just below. The face of the mannequin takes on two 

totally different looks.

Yes. I get it. Food.

these store posters generated a revived interest for me in Halloween.

I think this might be a fun year to go to 6th St. in downtown 

Austin to see thousands of young adults parade around in costumes...

To sum up: While I'm enjoying the handling and use of the Leica M240 I'm no longer infatuated with the whole M rangefinder idea. I'll probably sell off all of the M mount lenses and the M240 and dump the cash into a second Q2 body. The main reason is that I hate traveling specifically for photography without a back up camera body. Having a duplicate Q2 or maybe a Q3 would mean the same lens, the same menus, the same batteries, the same handling, etc., etc.

At this point in my amateur career (as opposed to my commercial work) I think the range of 28 to 50mm is more than adequate. Any longer or shorter just seems like a burden. 

When I finally notch my last commercial job I have the idea of getting rid of all the cameras, lenses and lighting I kept for professional work and just enjoying the streamlined pleasure of one nicely designed and realized camera. A dream maybe but why not?

Random Color. Just walking around, getting the feel of my new orthotics in my Keen hiking shoes, reveling in the cool weather, having fun with a camera.

Shooting vacations are tricky. You have a good time while you are vacationing. You come home, sit in front of your computer hoping to find small photographic treasures. After a week at home, and the same week spent playing around with the files you've shot, there is a let down. Almost a frustration. The dissonance of not being out there photographing now. And you find yourself planning the next adventure. Maybe building on the new directions you took on the last one. Shifting your vision around based on the feedback last week's images impart. 

The interesting thing to me in being of a certain age and having enough of everything is that as your sense of security and your bucket of free time grows you find that the passion you had for making your art takes a hit. Is it because planning well for life's inevitable bumps robs the process of its necessary friction? Or does one hit a place at which you think you discover that it's all meaningless anyway? All the photographing and all of the looking and walking. 

I like to think it's temporary. The sense of disillusion. That it's just post-vacation disquiet. That the next trip will revitalize my interests.

I wonder if other photographers go through this. I presume they do. The loss of motivation scares me more than most challenges. Because, I think, after 45 years of doing photography I've built a whole life around the various imperatives of being a photographer. It's an identity. A constant. 

Interested to hear if you've experienced this kind of slump. And how you fixed it. If you did. 

I sure hope you did....

I left off some of the black and whites I intended to show in the last post. Here they are. Busy, busy.

Does it feel like everyone who used to be interested in photography is "winding down" like an automatic wristwatch lying unworn on an old nightstand? On blogs I read it seems people have moved from the "enjoyment" of photographing to the "necessity" of archiving and preserving work they did long ago. No wonder it feels like the hobby is moribund. People are gravitating from the active fun to the passive task of preservation.

I'm resisting the call to succumb to the busy work of preparing old material for an eternity that may or may not arrive. I know my family well. They are not nostalgic and sentimental. They won't spend their days after I am gone sitting on the couch in the living room paging through old albums of my photographs. There are a small number of photographs they'd like to have after my unfortunate and catastrophic decline and passing  (it's always tragic but mostly just to ourselves...) but these are at most a hundred images of family and friends. Everything else is destined, whether I want it or not, to be tossed, recycled or abandoned. And much as you'd like to think otherwise mountains of evidence suggests this will happen to your images at well. They will, over time, be lost and gone.

But really, isn't it the enjoyment of the process, the fun of the hunt and the satisfaction of people appreciating your work in the here and now that's the important/satisfying/fun/rewarding thing about photographing? Are we really so self-centered as to believe that out of 8 billion people currently on the planet, at least 2 billion of whom are photographing relentlessly, that our photos from vacations, strolls, birthday parties and "serious landscape projects" are going to be the photographic images that rise to the top? That out of the trillions of images made every year the curators will come looking for my image of a stagnant pond at the state park to ensconce in the hallowed halls of the Fine Arts? 

If this is your mindset then you'll be lucky to eventually be quite dead and immune from having to watch the near inevitable decay and disappearance of the work you've tried so hard to preserve. 

When nostalgic and sentimental writers opine on the archival preservation of their photographic work they often couch the saddling of their younger family members with the pile of images as "giving them a gift!!!" Something they will cherish for a lifetime.  We love to look at photographs of our own children. We like to look at photographs of our own experiences. We tolerate looking at photographs of other people's families. But when we hand over the physical "treasures" we've curated for our progeny what we are really doing is burdening them both physically and also psychologically. Most of them will long to winnow down and toss much of the work that we liked. And we liked it because we worked hard to create it. But our unlucky family members are paralyzed about getting rid of what they don't need or want because they remember how important the prints and negatives seemed to us. They become trapped by their understanding of our expectations. And they, for the most part, are far less infatuated with our work than we are.

Photographs are both a visual object and a psychological conundrum. In my experience the people who slavishly hold old family images close are the ones who have unresolved issues surrounding family dynamics which they hope to resolve. And it's almost as if the saved photographs of those now dead are a key to unlocking and understanding the crucial points of their family's past.

I'm constantly involved in a version of "Swedish Death Cleaning" when it comes to the boxes and filling cabinets of my work. We used to keep just about everything in the dark ages of film when there was the promise that everything might be profitable fodder/content for stock photography sales. Now that no longer really exists. I toss a couple dozen pounds of negatives, slides, CDs, DVDs and assorted other photographic content in the trash at least once a month. I think it would be nothing short of cruel to foist a million blah, blah photographs on my son and my wife. Better to make a small folder of family images and provide them before my own ability to reason runs dry. And when I do I will include a note that says: "you are under no obligation to keep these. You will create your own memories and have your own experiences. You deserve your own space in which to enjoy them. I lived well. I don't need to preserve the work. I had a wonderful time living it.  Have more fun!"

The images I'm sharing in this particular blog have no real significance to anyone but me. I enjoyed walking around in the brisk, fresh Canadian air after a Summer of unrelenting heat in Austin. I enjoyed handling a camera that is also an iconic tool. I liked playing around with cropping and post processing. But, after we've seen the pix here, and they've augmented the written word,  I would have no compunction or hesitation in reaching over with my "mouse" and deleting the folder in which they currently exist from my hard drive, altogether. They are not precious just because they are photographs. They are like a morning swim. When it's done it's done and we move on with the rest of our day. And the rest of our lives. 

You can save all your images if you want. I have more life to live. And it's a lot more fun to be out photographing then it is sitting in the studio carefully documenting the facts and dates around my own work. I've already seen yesterday's work now I want to see what there is to see NOW and TOMMOROW. 

Obsessing with the past is like sitting in the rear of a boat and staring at the wake. Better to sit in the bow and be intrigued and fascinated by what's ahead. If we can't live in the NOW, in the moment we're blessed with,  then what's the point?

I had time over the weekend to play around with various files from my recent trip so I tried to envision some of them as black and white images. You know --- Monochromes. I used various tools in Lightroom to make conversions from color files. Cheating. Yes, I know.

I am a constant sucker for columns and arches.

Ooooh. I do like this ceiling better in black and white than in color.  Hmmmm.

Artist at work. In my favorite "artist shirt." Navy blue. Linen. 

Since I am shy and introverted I try never to get close to strangers...

Couch in hotel lobby. I sometimes walked through the front door dead tired. Flopped down on the couch and begged for cappuccino.... And, voila, there it was...

The public spaces in the hotel were covered  with wonderful, square,

black and white prints. Even in the elevator. I'll get the name of the artist.

He or she was very good. And a very good printer to boot.

I wanted Crew Café to be my favorite coffee house in all of Canada.

But it wasn't. That honor went to a small chain I first discovered in Vancouver and 

then re-discovered a block away from my hotel in Montreal. It's called,

49th Parallel and the coffee is superb. As are the freshly made, (on the premises)

donuts in all shapes and forms. Pistachio glaze anyone?

If I visit Montreal in the Winter I will certainly need a coat like this one.

I think it's stylish and would fit in well with the vibe of the city. 

Don't want to be caught out in some puffy North Face marshmallow jacket.....

Ah, the "beautiful people." You can always tell because they love the idea of 

the red carpet and the men wear more gold chains than the women. 

These also seem to be "that type of man" who wears his loafers without 

socks. An odd nod to 1970s fashion.

Yes. Mannequins. Get over it.

 All of these were originally shot in color/raw with the Leica and then converted to my taste. Some of you will like the effect while others will savage it. Don't really care because it looks good to me.

And, incidentally, I am the client....