Showing posts with label digital. Show all posts
Showing posts with label digital. Show all posts

Friday, 30 September 2011

New lamps for old...



Ironically, I started this blog with a review, and here I am a couple of years later writing another. The world has moved on, however, and now I am writing about a different concept, one that did not exist when I started.

I have recently acquired a Ricoh GXR in anticipation of the introduction of the M-Module A12. This module allows the mounting of Leica M (and other) lenses to the Ricoh body. An interesting concept that, if it lives up to its promise, could offer considerable scope and flexibility not to say a new lease of life for older lenses. The GXR itself has been around now for about 18 months, with a small set of dedicated "Lensors" - lenses and sensors combined into a single "dust free" unit. The GXR system is not cheap, and the four Lensors thus far available have themselves been quite pricey. The GXR concept is intriguing, but for a long time has looked like a solution in search of a problem. The GXR body is rugged and well-made and by all accounts designed by photographers for photographers but it has enjoyed only modest sales success in a market that seems awash with mirrorless interchangable compacts - Micro Four Thirds and others - from Sony, Samsung, Olympus, Panasonic, Nikon and now (amusingly) Nikon. Against that backdrop the Ricoh has been seen as innovative but just a bit odd - a bit like Saabs used to be before they were assimilated by GM.

The GXR kit I picked up came with the 28-300 lensor (I added the VF-2 viewfinder soon thereafter). This little setup is a competent but frankly lacklustre "travel zoom" that produces ok results but nothing to write home about. Ideal for slipping in a pocket and handing to a waiter in the beach restaurant to catch that snap of you and your loved one partly hidden behind unfeasibly large cocktails. Honestly, if this was all there was to the system the answer would be no. The two prime lenses (28 and 50mm) come with bigger sensors and are reputed to be a lot better, but I have neither tried them nor intend to.

I rummaged around looking for a UK price for the module and ended up visiting my friendly neighbourhood local "crack dealer". London Camera Exchange in Guildford has been my primary source for all things Leica for many years, both new and secondhand. The manager there knows me and was more than happy to give me first dibs on the first M Module that he was able to get his hands on. A week or three later the phone rang and I trundled over on a sunny Saturday afternoon with a bagful of lenses.

It was busy as usual in the shop but one of the staff handed over the box and they left me to it. First surprise, the Lensor once attached prompts you through a firmware upgrade - none of that sticking a file on an SD card and loading it up. The upgrade gave my GXR body the necessary changes to menus etc to accommodate the M Module. It fits like a glove, of course, with a bulge that doesn't appear on the other Lensors which actually adds to the handling. My first, hurried shots in and outside the shop were what you would expect - crap - but good enough to show promise. Card details were provided and I walked out with another of those brown cardboard Ricoh boxes that looks as if it has been recycled from old cereal packets - very green, very now.

Apart from the Lensor, the box contains a sheaf of instruction books and stuff and a little bit of plastic that resembles one of those drain sieves that stops bits of carrot from blocking the U bend in the kitchen. This neat device is actually a "lens gauge" that allows the user to check if their lenses will mount without fouling the sensor. First (but not unexpected) disappointment - my three collapsible lenses, 5cm Elmar, 50mm Elmar M and 90mm Elmarit, cannot be mounted and collapsed - c'est la vie, but a shame since two of that three are my favourites.

Lenses that do mount, I am here to tell you, do so with a satisfying snick - there is no play in this mount. So far I have tried it with a range of lenses from Leica, Zeiss and Voigtlander and have yet to be disappointed. M Mount lenses fit and perform of course, but so do LTM (Leica Thread Mount, or Screwmount, or "Barnack") lenses such as the tiny 3.5cm Elmar and the 15mm Cosina Voigtlander Color Heliar. No accessory viewfinders needed, of course, since the view, on the rear screen or through the Electronic Viewfinder ("EVF") is WYSIWYG (TTL). I have tried it so far with focal lengths of 15, 28, 35, 50, 60 90 and 135mm and have yet to observe any significant vignetting, darkening or colour shift at the corners.

You notice I listed 60mm in there - that's not M, but R... I have three Leica R Mount Elmarit lenses - 28, 60 (macro) and 135mm - that I have already converted with Leitax mounts to use upon Nikon bodies (in my case an FM3A). With the addition of a Novoflex "Lem/Nik" converter from the nice people at SRB Griturn, they can also be mounted to the M Mount and thus the GXR body. The same would be true, of course, of any Nikon AI, AIS, AF or AFD lens although you could not mount the G lenses with this combination without losing aperture control. (By the way I initially tried a "cheap" mount that I found on eBay. It was looser than a footballer's morals; the lens drooped from the mount like the "before" metaphor in an impotence advert. The Novoflex, on the other hand, is tighter than a 10th generation Scotsman's sporran clip; proof of the old adage "buy cheap, buy twice"...)

So, I have a single platform that is able to take any Leica LTM, M or R mount lens (with a litttle prior adaptation). I can use glass from the 1920s to 2011 with a modern, APS-C sized sensor. As a backup this is ideal, but it also has advantages as a primary system under certain circumstances.

So, what's it like to use and does it deliver the results?

We all get there, Sonnar or later...

The most important thing for me is that this combination allows the character of each lens to come through. I have chosen the lens "palette" that I have for good reasons - each performs differently and delivers a different rendition. The GXR sensor does not get in the way but instead delivers a faithful result. Each focal length is multiplied by 1.5x, of course but in practice this is workable and certainly won't come as a surprise to those who come to the GXR from the M8, M8.2 or Epson R-D1. Where the little GXR scores over the M8 of course is that it doesn't require UV/IR filters, let alone dedicated viewfinders for the wider focal lengths. That, coupled with the ability to take lenses of greater than 135mm focal length, starts to add up to a compelling package.

Handling takes a little getting used to. The need to grip the body while manually focussing the lens means that one has to think about where to put one's fingers... Initially I found myself regularly pressing buttons on the rear with my right thumb - irritating, but soom remedied with some self-discipline. Larger lenses are heavier, of course, but not unduly so. The offset tripod socket may be a little irritating, however and for lenses larger than the 135mm Elmarit R I think I would be happier with a tripod mount on the lens rather than relying upon the body.

Focussing is via two different Modes - much has been written about these already from a technical standpoint so I will focus (pun intended) on the practicalities. Mode 1 provides a "marching ants" white dotted outline around anything within the plane of focus. It offers the advantage of maintaining a "natural" view of your subject, in colour (if set) but is not that easy to use, particularly in very bright or low light. Mode 2 provides a monochrome view that again highlights the plane of focus with whiteness but this time against a grey background. Although less "realistic", I find this easier to use in all conditions. A half-press of the shutter release gives you a normal view and I find myself toggling between the two easily. For critical focussing applications it is possible to enlarge the view, either as a central "picture in picture" or filling the screen. I have tried this but don't find it particularly useful. Focussing close up with the Macro Elmarit is particularly interesting with Mode 2; it's easy to rock back and forth and watch the plane of focus wash across your subject until it is were you want it to be.

Overall, how easy is it to focus? Here is a very subjective, very personal league table - you may be able to relate to it, but then again, maybe not...

  • M2 - simply the clearest of all
  • MP/M7 - mine are both .85. My MP only has four framelines so is marginally clearer than the M7
  • Contax RX - about the best film SLR I ever owned
  • Nikon FM3A with R lenses
  • M6 "classic" - I've had a couple of .72 Too many framelines for my taste
  • Epson R-D1
  • Ricoh GXR with M Module
  • Leica II
  • Leica IIIc
  • Olympus XA
  • Panasonic LC-1 (Digilux 2)
  • D-Lux 4
  • Olympus E-P1 with M lenses

So far I have not had the time or opportunity to do much more than scratch the surface with the M Module. All of my shots have been test shots, with no "soul". I'll address that in the weeks and months to come. For now, you can see the fruits of my experimentation here, together with a bit of "camera porn" that shows a number of lenses mounted, either directly or with the Novoflex adaptor.

So... the verdict so far is a qualified but approving thumbs-up. The GXR system comes of age with the M Module and it will be fascinating to look back in about 12 months time and see what has developed next. For now, the GXR has a firm place in my kit bag. It does not replace my M or Barnack cameras but it augments them well and gives my Leica glass - all my Leica glass - a strong digital platform.

--o-O-o--

- All images on this blog are copyright Bill Palmer and may not be reproduced in any format or medium without permission.

Tuesday, 15 February 2011

Tantric Photography?


What (or indeed who) springs to mind if I say “tantric sex”? (No sniggering at the back there...) For most people of a certain age, in the UK at least, it is Sting and Trudie Styler. Sting was once famously quoted as saying that the couple enjoyed hours of tantric lovemaking. An image was conjured up of Mr and Mrs Sumner lying intimately entwined in a protracted state of ecstacy, each on the brink of a wardrobe-trembling climax, holding the same position for ages in order to prolong the moment until, when it – and they – came, it provided the ultimate high. This slightly disturbing image was shattered forever years later when in another interview, Sting confessed that the hours of tantric sex alluded to actually encompassed going to a movie, followed by a decent dinner and a bit of begging on his part.

Seldom has an illusion been cruelly and totally shattered; women the world over sighed and resigned themselves to forever muttering “No, its alright, you tried, you couldn't help it” and men smirked in the confirmation that their sexual stamina was not going to be compared unfavourably any more to that of the great Mr Sumner.

Which of course brings us, as you knew it would, to the world of photography. Since the dawning of the Age of Digital (AD) photographers have become hopelessly addicted to the siren lure of instant gratification. In the past, the only way to hold the image in your hand shortly after exposure was to invest in a Polaroid camera, film or back. The slightly ridiculous looking act of shaking the print worked the necessary chemical magic and in moments you could find yourself holding the end result. Of course the great advantage of the instant camera was cutting out the middleman – the processor – and hence keeping your sordid little snaps to yourself. It was said that Edwin Land, the inventor of the Polaroid camera refused to include a self-timer in any of his products in order to dissuade their use for immoral purposes.

Whatever.

The reality was that Polaroids were a niche product, and it wasn't until digital image capture really took off that instant photography came into its element. Suddenly you could take a photo of granny and show her the immediate result (bifocals permitting). Suddenly you could fire off a snap of kids in the street (PCSOs permitting) and show them the immediate result, to their delight (assuming they didn't try to up their ASBO count by stealing your camera). Above all, suddenly you could take a photo and see for yourself if it was blurred, poorly exposed, or just plain crap.

Enter the “chimp”.

I don't know who first coined the phrase, but they had clearly spent time observing both apes and humans; perhaps on the same zoo trip. “Chimping” perfectly describes the act of snap-check-snap-check-snap-check that the inexperienced or insecure indulge in. Some risk repetitive strain injuries as they whip their heads up and down. No thought is given to the very real risk of missing what is going on now while checking what has happened in the immediate past. Chimpers, in effect, spend more time living in the past than capturing the present. The hunt-peck, hunt-peck action is actually reminiscent of an inexperienced typist – maybe the eponymous chimp was one of those employed to knock out the works of Shakespeare...

Back to the plot. The problem with instant gratification, as is well known by anyone who has succumbed to the lure of a bag of sweets, is that a moment of pleasure is followed by an anticlimax. The moment has passed, and the only way to recapture it, to get that high again is to have another

and another...

and another.

Before you know it you feel both mildly nauseous and forever dissatisfied. Instant gratification has devalued the experience for you, reduced it to a ho-hum norm. You are engorged and unhappy, and worst of all, a suspiciously porky looking Jamie Oliver is contemplating visiting you to make an infotainment programme pour encourager les autres.

As with bags of sweets, so with digital photographers. Just before the mighty SD card swept all before it, the high-street processors battling for your business were offering ever shorter turnarounds on your prints of little Tarquin and Tasmin. Modern machinery such as the Fuji Frontier series reduced an already rapid one hour service to 30 minutes, then 20 and in some cases 15. I don't know about you, but I struggle to drink a cup of tea in 15 minutes let alone dip, dunk, develop, print and cut to CD. At one point you could walk into some branches of Sainsburys, drop your films at the dry cleaners just inside the door and receive a text to tell you your snaps were ready before you had even got past the cake ingredients – well, certainly long before you got to the wines and spirits.

Queen once released a song called I Want It Now. This elegant bit of pomp-rock could have been penned as the theme tune to today's cash-rich, time-poor, need it yesterday consumers. The entire concept of patience being a virtue has been devalued to the point of parity with the Zimbabwean Pound.


The nearest I get to phallic symbolism...

And therein lies my point. In sales, there is a concept rather unpleasantly but graphically referred to as “the whores dilemma”. In simple terms this states that there is no point in asking for the money after the product or service has been provided; the act of provision has in effect reduced if not eliminated your customer's willingness to pay for something that is already in their possession. The immediate availability of the image on the back of the digital camera reduces both the enjoyment of “rediscovery” hours or days after the event and the likelihood of the image ever being printed at all. At best it may be shared with “m8s” on Facebook, at worst it is consigned to a computer hard-drive or never taken off the card at all. The print, on the other hand can be displayed, passed around, touched, felt, put in a drawer, forgotten then rediscovered months or years later. It can be written upon, front or back, or stained with tears of sorrow or joy. It exists, therefore it is.

Call me old-fashioned (it wouldn't be the first time) but the instant nature of digital photography has impoverished the photographic experience. Tantric photography is as much about the journey as the destination; tantalising expectation is part of that journey. Sometimes it is truly better to travel than to arrive.


And sometimes you should seek to prolong, not just preserve, the decisive moment. Try it – think Tantric. But please don't stand so close to me...

--o-O-o--

- All images on this blog are copyright Bill Palmer and may not be reproduced in any format or medium without permission.