I have longed for high quality prime glass for some time. Long no more! The 56mm f/1.2 purchased last week is simply stunning, isolating subjects with razor sharp resolution and creating a wonderful fuzzy bokeh. A lens like this makes everything interesting, and my little Konica C35 above looks regal amongst the collection with such a narrow depth of field. I haven’t had time to really play yet, but the few family head shots tell me I’m in for a creative journey.
Moved from the X-Pro2 to the Fujifilm X-T2. Why? One word… Periscope.
Having used the X100s for years now, the hybrid viewfinder of the X-Pro2 seemed a natural evolution. However, and I write this with great sadness, the X-Pro2’s hybrid viewfinder is the equivalent of looking through a periscope. The Hybrid bit is outstanding… Quick, responsive, bright. All the the attributes one would associate with Fujifilm viewfinders. Yet the eyepiece requires the user to accurately place themselves dead-centre to get a narrowed view of the hybrid wonder. Being an early adopter I thought it was just me, but then others came out of the woodwork to reveal their disappointment in the hybrid execution.
Not convinced? Take a X100s and place it up to your eye. Brilliant, large and easily accessible viewfinder, like the Mintolta 7s of old. Now the X-Pro2. Nope, not even close. The OVF image is smaller, the eyepiece less forgiving and the overall satisfaction of using the hybrid system devalued. I just want to get a 10mm drill bit and open up the eyepiece to reveal the glory of the hybrid system. It’s as though Fujifilm has inadvertently handicapped the system by integrating a restrictive eyepiece. A real shame, and not the effective hybrid system that attracted me to Fujifilm in the first place
So, to the X-T2. Wonderful camera with a big, bright viewfinder. I’ll just have to wait for the X100F to satisfy my rangefinder lust.
The European Vacation of 1984 continues with the following set of scanned transparencies. The Espon V500 Flatbed Scanner has really impressed me. Bang-for-buck I doubt it would be necessary to aim higher for the purpose of preserving and enriching slides at the amateur level. Piggy back the precise colour controls available in Lightroom and quality images can be reproduced from ageing (and fading) slides. The screen shot below demonstrates how playing with ‘Hue’ (specific colour tweak), ‘Saturation’ (intensity of the Hue) and lastly the Luminance (brightness of that specific Hue) provides immense control over the fading slides, even for the Lightroom newby like me.
The following photo has been cropped above and below. Being able to crop a scanned transparency has been an unexpected boon, with the resolution maintaining overall picture integrity.
Lightroom’s vignette removal has been essential. I recognise that a travel zoom was a wise choice over a fixed focal lens, but I wonder how much resolution has been lost in the process. The Minolta 50mm f/1.4 was razor sharp and may have yielded sharper and more detailed snaps than the pretty average Kiron blurry-wobblefest I opted for. Regardless, the X-700’s metering was simply outstanding, evidenced by the consistency of accurate exposure. I was very indulgedto have such a competent camera as a 15 year-old , but at least the results suggest I was aware of my favour.
OK, a little post production in the photo below, but only to highlight what was already there. Stone Henge deserves a little reverence. From memory the day was blustery, wet and not at all inviting. Somewhat undignified, the stone wonder is situated reasonably close to busy motorways, perhaps removing some of the other-wordly ambience one would expect of such a unique monument.
Oh, a photo of reflected mountains in a still lake… Very original.
Cliche 1. I can’t deny that my teenage reading hours were spent pouring through Photography Magazines (and yes, there were nudes, and no, I still read the articles), and the cliche’s of composition probably guided my eye early on. Not everyone can (or wants to be) a trailblazer.
Cliche 2. Who could resist the valley-fest Switzerland has to offer… So much scenery love and photographic memories, and once again I have a wonderful camera, clever scanner and smart software to thank.
I moved on from the Pentax MX in 1984 when my parents offered to help me purchase the newly released Minolta X-700 that I’ve blogged about previously. The motivation came from, in part, Dad’s realisation that his camera was failing him. In hindsight, this was a probably more of an emotional moment for him than I understood at the time, being the usually distracted 15 year old boy. My father had just retired after a lifetime of hard work and found little pleasing about post-work life. His health was failing (he would pass away in another three years), he had few active interests and the failing camera was perhaps too much of a metaphor for his liking.
The family had planned for dad to visit his birth town of Zurich, Switzerland before he died, dovetailing a trip through the UK as a last ‘hurrah’. I therefore became the trip’s chronicler, and a new X-700 with Program, TTL flash and brilliant 80’s looks became the conduit. It was an eight week trip through what would be the easiest of adventures to photograph, with all the cliche’d tourist sites on the agenda. Shooting fish in a barrel. However I elected to go with a substandard zoom rather than sticking with a sharp prime lens seen in the photo above. The Kiron 28-105 was hardly anything exciting, but when it came to a travel zoom, it certainly ticked the focal-range box. Pity about the gross vignetting. Oh, and the lack of sharpness…. and the poor build quality. More on that later.
Yet I’m not disappointed. I was armed with a brilliant camera that despite nearly 700 shots taken, barely any misfired with exposure. The centre weighted metering of the X-700 preceded the complexities of computer-aided multi-matrix metering and provided you were up to tweaking the scene with exposure compensation, success was usually guaranteed. In fact, success in this camera was arguably far more predictable when it comes to exposure compensation. In the modern matrix metering I sometimes wonder if I’m overriding something smarter than me when engaging exposure compensation. On the X-700, it was a true adjunct. Helpful, predictable and often warranted. The result were terrific, aided by a mild film-emulsion latitude. However the memories are on slides….
So which film? I had used Kodachrome extensively with the Pentax Mx, and loved the richness of colour it delivered. However every transparency owner has discovered the dreaded slide-spillage that accompanies the Kodak Carousel. Remember conference presentations given by slide rather than digital projector? The debacle of jammed slides, upside-down images and old school transition; ker-clunk-clunk. That’s if the Carousel made it safely to the projector and not become a floor photo-mosaic! Nope, not for me. I elected to go with Agfa’s transparency system. A decision of function over form that while aided storage and viewing, missed out on the Kodachrome’s legendary colour chemistry.
With typical Teutonic engineering, Agfa developed a system that clicked the slide into the magazine. In short, no spillage. Yes, the slide could still be upside down, but not because you’ve just played 52-pickup after another carousel accident.
Called ‘Agfa Reflecta CS’, each slide frame possessed a click-lock system that would interface with the magazine, providing enough hold to prevent spillage. The downfall of this system was the proprietary nature of it. The user could only benefit from this system by using the Agfa magazine. Sure you could use the generic carousel, but the spillage problem would remain.
The photo above details the intricate yet very effective Agfa click-lock system. I will attest that not once did I ever have slides spill from the magazine, even when dropped. Each magazine can be placed in a two-magazine draw designed to protect the slides from light and dust. Well, light at least.
The Agfa ‘Diameter’ projector itself was a pleasure to use. The one pictured below is over thirty years old (purchased in Germany during our trip) and works as described, albeit with a slow mechanism and a dust-laden projection. It features a nifty corded remote that allows for arm-chair focus, advance and even a pointer. Don’t get excited though. No “Lasers” on this relic, just an incandescent bulb shaped as an arrow projected by a series of lenses. It works though, and maintains the old(ish)-world charm of this device. This version of ‘The Diamator’ (yes, best said with a Germanic accent) came with Auto focus, which works reasonably well once initial focus has been achieved manually. There is a brightness switch, a manual slide selector (when the slide needs re-orientating) and a fan, which was silent in it’s early life. Not so much now.
Was this a better system than Kodak’s Carousel? Absolutely. While the initial loading of the slides required a little more attention, the result was hassle free handling of your precious slides, otherwise eager to jump free.
Why then are all the slide systems from this era Kodak? Simple. Reigning image quality and it was, after all, Kodak; King of the Monopoly. I have both Kodachrome and Agfa transparencies from exactly the same time dated thirty five years ago. The former retains the rich colours for which Kodachrome was famous for (here’s an example), while the Agfa transparencies, despite utmost care and dark storage, show signs of fading beyond their initially washed out appearance. This film simply wasn’t as ‘punchy’ with colours that the Kodak equivalent could muster. Two different films, two different effects. In hindsight, I made a mistake. I went the engineering advantage, not the photographic/creative benefit by aligning with Agfa. Had I gone the Kodachrome route I would have had well preserved, highly detailed and colourful reproductions that would have lost little impact with the passing years, albeit more likely to fall out of the carousel. I’m left with well engineered fading transparencies.
I highly recommend reading this detailed article of film colour permanency. The ironic conclusion suggests that Kodachrome is by far the best choice, so long as it’s not frequently projected, which fades it rapidly. Agfachrome is relegated behind it’s Kodak cousin and Fujichrome.
The kids love a slide show. I’m blessed with a family that (kinda) get my photographic obsessions, so when I speak of slides, the kids get on board with the adventure. Slide shows excite their senses. The sight of unknown moments in dimmed light, the smell of burning dust and the sound of the slide mechanism revealing the next image. I recalled these fond memories when I wrote about my father’s slide projector, and it’s wonderful to think the excitement is multi-generational. Fun for the moment, but not terribly accessible, nor optimal. The Agfa slides needed some permanency and cheering up, and we have the technology.
Let’s begin with the scanner. I’ve owned the Epson V500 for over five years now and it’s worked flawlessly. It’s reasonably speedy and produces outstanding results when scanning transparencies. I’m sure there’s better on the market out there, but within the constraints of a budget you’d have to spend a lot more to only get a little better. Having re-familiarised myself with the functions of the Epson Mac interface along with a little web-based research, I elected to use the following settings. Let me walk you through them.
First, what I’ve detailed here is a balance between file size, speed and quality, erring towards quality. Having selected ‘Transparency’, I chose 48-bit colour. To be frank, I saw no real quality difference between the next lowest setting, but it didn’t burden the speed of the scan nor the file size in any great way, so I stuck with the highest colour spectrum.
A DPI of 3200 provided terrific detail, as you’ll see. Think about what’s being achieved here. A 35 year old fading transparency can be brought to life despite being only 35mm wide. Very impressive, and being able to access such a high DPI allowed for all the intricate detail to be identified. I chose not to select 4200 DPI since it had a noticeable speed penalty. I cannot speak for the improved quality since I was pleased enough with the lesser setting.
Since much of the sharpening could be done post-processing, I was initially going to switch Unsharp Mask off. I then read a few forums that said the image benefited from its subtle addition. Why not. Set to low it certainly appeared to bring edges to life.
Colour Restoration was a worthwhile selection. Yes, this can also be done post production. However ticking this box clearly improves the colour temperature, saturation and the exposure with such accuracy that I habitually engaged it every scan. It saved a lot of time and effort post production, which became more tweaking than gross manipulation. In the case of the ‘faded’ Agfa slide (they look faded, but I again acknowledge that the Agfa transparency was never endowed with rich colour reproduction), the improvement to the slide was even more noticeable compared with scanning Kodachrome. Very slick.
Dust removal. OK, here’s a lesson learned. For all of its supposed capability, I did not use ‘Digital Ice’ for this series of scans. I’ve found that it has a nasty habit of forming artefact around edges, which I put up with when scanning a batch many years ago believing it to be part of the cost of doing dustless business. The photo below clearly shows the artefact around the collar of my father’s out-of-fashion dress shirt. This time I simply didn’t use ‘Ice’, and the artefact didn’t appear. Clean, sharp, well defined lines. Any resident dust was easily removed in post production anyway. I did elect to use Epson’s software dust removal on low, but I think this had a negligible influence upon dust. A couple of mildly dusty slides remained that way, so leaving dust removal off entirely would not have been a bad idea.
Regardless, Lightroom offers the best way to remove unwanted blemishes, including light bleeds and colour mismatches.
So, armed with a rounded set of scanning parameters for a very reasonable scanner, I set some time aside and became a scanning factory-line worker. Establishing a rhythm is paramount, as it ensures compliance to what works best and passes the time rapidly. Here’s how my regime went;
All up I scanned just under 200 slides taking the good part of an afternoon, evening and indeed the twilight hours of the next morning. A journey well worth it though. Samples you say? Oh, thanks for asking!
I’m new to Lightroom, having been an Aperture stalwart until recently. So this multiple scanning event provided a perfect opportunity to play hard with my new Lightroom toy. And it’s great. I find the workflow easy and reasonably intuitive, once I became familiar with the Adobe way. What did impress me is the effectiveness of Lightroom to improve the detail and colour rendition of the slides, Take the example below.
The picture on the left is fresh from the scanner. As mentioned, colour restoration and auto exposure (by default when Colour correction is selected) ticked. Post colour temperature selection and levels/curves, I tweaked the image using the individual colour saturation and luminance adjustment shown on the right, I was able to bring out the beautiful tones and detail in the archway that were invisible in the original scan. Lightroom’s ‘Clarity’ slider and vibrance certainly pays handsome dividends too, giving the image presence and life. Vignetting? Yes, the Kiron lens was consistent in darkening the corners of the image. Lightroom’s manual lens correction is simply outstanding for correcting this error and the photos have benefited from a constant luminance. I have no doubt in skilled hands Lightroom’s attributes would continue to improve this image, but for now this newbie is pleased with what is obtainable thus far.
When combined with Nik Software, the images can be manipulated further to produce really interesting results. For example;
Probably too much of a good thing. Each stage reveals a little more of the unwanted detail in the photo. Note the artefact/grain residue in the top left corner. Now, of course this can be worked on in Lightroom, but I think it’s important to reflect upon the problem with digital. If you want to enlarge crap, that’s what you’ll get, just bigger. The way around it is to be reasonable about what can be achieved (in this case, don’t push the post-production too hard), and spend the time cleaning the image via Lightroom if you seek enlargement. Just expect to work a little harder.
Perhaps the photo below is a better example of what effects-software can achieve.
The original photo had a B&W tilt already by being a little washed out. Silver Efex granted its wish, and I like the (cliche) result. Below is another example of a transparency scan than ended itself to B&W;
Scanning my old photos has been a wonderful adventure. Not only has it rapidly developed my understanding of Lightroom, but future proofed faded photos. I’m pleasantly surprised by the artistic qualities of the photographs, and thus reinforced how important photography has been to me, offering a creative outlet to a largely ‘left-brained’ thinker even through my teens.
Just when I thought I could live without the Leica brand…
Yet another opportunity to handle a modern Leica gem. A Leica Q travelled past my humble doorstep the other day courtesy of my camera enthusiast neighbour. Of all the ‘out of my pay-grade’ cameras he has flaunted, this one connected with me. I make no secret of my retro passion for rangefinder cameras, and the Leica Q is another example of how the genre is far from dead. Digital Photography Review compared the Q with the Fujifilm X100T, reasonable given both sport a rangefinder shape fitted with a fixed focal length. Holding the Q does indeed remind me of the X100 series, with its clean lines, friendly compact shape and ease of use via straightforward controls. Of course the Q wins with it’s larger sensor, but at just over four times the price of an X100T, it should have at least a few winning moves.
I snapped off a couple of frames, but was unfortunately pressed for time. I was left with the impression of an outstanding piece of engineering with the enthusiast in mind. Classic looks, simple controls, straight forward operation… at a price. I remain cold however to Leica’s choice of a 28mm lens. Too wide for effective portraits, and perhaps even too wide for street photography, I would have thought a 35mm (42mm?) would have offered a broader photographic spectrum when inter-changeable lenses are no longer an option. Perhaps a Fuji-like teleconverter may be on the cards, but that’s not very Leica.
So yes, and no. ‘Yes’ to a fixed focal length, full-frame rangefinder camera that is beautiful to hold and simple to use. Yet ‘no’ to the choice of focal length and absolutely no to the stratospheric price that Leica commands. Like I have a say….
The SX-70 is probably the most under-estimated gem I have acquired.
Given to me by a very generous friend, my collection wish-list had left out this iconic camera. Once in my possession, I felt miffed that I had made such a fundamental omission.
From the genius of Polaroid, led by the enigmatic Edwin Land, the SX-70 was the original project name of the ‘one-step’ instant photo system Polaroid developed that superseded their initial peel-apart instant film. Both technologies were derived from Land’s thirty year ambition to provide the photographer with instant pictures, an idea prompted by his daughter’s frustration at the delay at seeing the results. Interestingly, my kids express the same sentiment when I use film. Perhaps my ‘deal with it’ response is a little less elegant than Land’s.
My recollection of the 70’s & 80’s Polaroid camera was one of disdain and ambivalence. Back then I was developing a passion for photography that evolved through 110 format, quickly graduating to 35mm. The instant camera market failed to excite me. It’s only now I understand how naive I was, as the technical genius required of Polaroid to develop their radical film was a unique episode in photographic history that should be honoured. Even more outstanding is the engineering prowess they engaged to develop such a beautiful and iconic camera in the SX-70. In contrast to my initially poor attitude towards the Polaroid system, the SX-70 has become a favourite within my collection. I find the architecture of this origami-like instrument captivating.
And it still works. Thanks to a very dedicated group of engineers, chemists and investors, the creation of the ‘Impossible Project’ breathes life into the SX-70 which despite being forty years old, still flawlessly spits out instant film. Admirable.
And fun! Resist the temptation of the red button, I dare you! I thought the rapid fire click-whir of an F3 was addictive. The ejection of a fresh Polaroid print creates a whole new set of sensory interactions that are just as engaging as any motor drive. Yet the dividend with the SX-70’s clicks and whirs is a finished picture. The process begs to be repeated.
I highly recommend ‘The triumph of genius’ by Ronald Fierstein. OK, the trial semantics in the middle of the book do get a bit tedious, however the historical background of the instant-photo phenomena and the consequences of the Kodak v Polaroid patent slug-fest are fascinating reading. For me, the technical achievements detailed by Fierstein solidified my admiration for both the challenge of providing instant photography and the SX-70 camera itself. Both deserve immense respect.
One of Kodak’s equivalent instant-pic cameras is pictured below. It looks like the tan interior of a Datsun. A very poor me-too copy of the Polaroid system, destined to be pulled from the shelves after Kodak’s Patent infringement saga was lost to Polaroid.
Give this box a very big texta tick.
A personal ambition for the Japan holiday itinerary was to explore the legendary Tokyo second hand camera stores. I was not disappointed, and more surprisingly, perhaps a little under-prepared despite some research.
I’m blessed with an extensive range of cameras in my collection, some of which are detailed here. Nothing too precious mind you. The Nikon F Pro series is probably where my extravagances end. Despite priding myself on being a savvy urban explorer, my approach to these comprehensive and often cluttered stores was surprisingly flawed. I initially took a tourist approach, as though they were something else in Japan to ‘take-in’. However the collector in me took over once exposed to these vast and comprehensive stores, yet I had no idea what I was specifically looking for. It was like trying to find the end of a fractal.
Faced with such endless choice and ill-defined purpose, I retreated to regroup. It’s a simple rule of sensible buying (know what you want), and one that I realised was an absolute when the choice is near infinite.
Tip 1: If you’re looking to buy, know what you want before you walk in. Precisely.
What also overwhelmed me was the ability to choose between multiple examples of the same camera, often ranging from mint through to heavily brassed. How does eight Nikon F4s’ sound?
Tip 2: Know what condition of camera you’re willing to go with.
I’ve read a lot about these camera stores online, and much of what has been said about dealing with these specialist stores have some universal truths. Politeness, patience, low-tone conversation and an obvious respect for their store and wares make for a very pleasant experience. At best, I found the majority of the staff attentive, friendly, patient and passionate about their product. At worst (only one store in fact), ambivalence. Too many other great experiences to be fussed by the one.
Tip 3: This is not a pawn shop. Second hand camera store owners in Tokyo are professional collectors and respect their wares. As a customer, share their attitude.
The photos here are of the same shop, and I ended up not purchasing anything here as I was in the early stages of my exploration. I will admit some surprise at the prices in Tokyo. My blind optimism led me to believe I was on a bargain hunt. However given Tip 3, these stores are not in the business of flogging old stuff for a bargain price. Clearly articulating my objectives during the strategic retreat helped identify the bargains, since I was more focused in my renewed search.
Tip 4: There are bargains to be had, but they won’t be obvious amongst the sheer volume. Engage Tips 1 & 2 first, then seek the best price.
So, what did I go looking for? A replacement F4s (since mine looks like it’s been in an acid bath), a Nikon F3 with motor drive and a Nikonos. Behold!
I’ve described the F3 here, and I’ll get around to detailing the Nikonos in due time. The F4s purchase is now the third (!) one I’ve owned. I passionately assert that the F4 is one of the best cameras ever made….. within my second hand price range. The first was a photo-journalist’s with deep sentimentality attached to it, only realised once I sold it. The second unit was picked up for a bargain (Ebay), but is in terrible shape despite being fully functional.
Tip 4: Buy a Nikon F4s for your collection. Trust me.
Very excited.
While in Tokyo I toured the many second hand camera stores, and I must admit, was overwhelmed by the vast range of products. So that I didn’t take a second mortgage out on the house to fulfil my desires, I settled on three cameras. The Nikon F3 with MD-4 motor drive was the first of them. Produced between 1980 to 2000, this aperture priority pro camera lacked Program, but did have TTL metering and a continuance of the Italian funky design from the previous F siblings. This particular unit is in great shape. Not mint, but still terrific. I’ve never really been interested in mint condition anyway. I like cameras that have a history, told by wear and tear.
The kids are fascinated by the mechanics once again. Of course, none of their digital cameras have moving parts, save for the SD card access door. I so dearly miss the click-whir of these industrial cameras. Such a positive, familiar sound evoking an epic era in camera technology .
The appeal for me here relates to my love of the X100s; Dials. Simple, accessible, purposeful dials. No LCD displays doing what a dial does better. And this thing is solid. It’s certainly not what you’d call handy nor discreet, but that wasn’t the F3’s gig. It relied on user intelligence, now superseded by smart scene evaluation an Matrix Metering. How rewarding to obtain perfection in an era that made you work for it.
Note the lack of Flash hotshoe is offset by an unusual and proprietary flash connection on the left film winder. So 80’s….
Once again my friend and neighbour has trumped me.
We share a common passion for cameras, but he has taken Gold for bringing home this incredible piece of craftsmanship.
The Leica T.
Designed in association with Audi, the unibody design is utterly gorgeous. The lines are clean, stylish and extremely tactile. The shape yields a wave-like appearance that begs to be held. The reward is immediate, with a solidity rare in modern cameras.
I am simply in awe.
So, rather than take photos with it, I took photos of it.
I’ve done it.
I’ve plunged into the mirrorless world. A world of non-tradition. Of new-age expectations. Of a world that breaks away from the mechanics I so adore in traditional SLRs. I decided on the X-E1 because it’s discounted due to the X-E2 being available. But that’s not the whole story. The X100s has so fascinated me in such a way that has reignited my love of photography that going back to DSLR just didn’t feel right. Whether it makes sense or not, the desire to take a photo extends well beyond the quantitative.
This was photo number three. Charley had a ‘peace sign’ up (at least I think that was what she was gesturing), which I should have either included or excluded. Alas, It’s sort-of in, but the angelic look is too much for a dad to knock back. Sweetheart.
camera passion 
