Rapid weight loss...

Back from sunny Malta, I've been thinking...

I am struck by the recent rapid growth in the availability of "good things in small packages". Hot on the heels of Four-Thirds - itself a move in the small direction - Olympus and Panasonic have forged ahead with Micro Four-Thirds, and Sigma and Leica have gone down the large-sensor-small-body route to give big camera performance in a smaller body. Even "ordinary" high-end digital compacts with small sensors such as the G-11, D-Lux 4 et al offer a "power to weight" ratio that would have been unthinkable just 24 months ago. The photographer no longer needs to carry a large "pro-spec" camera everywhere to guarantee a decent image.

History repeats itself, of course. The digital size/quality ratio improvement is just following the same trajectory as that of film many years ago.

But why?

What drives the urge to miniaturise? Is there truly a demand, or is it a vanity development on behalf of the manufacturers? Portability is a very strong argument, of course, and something that I have written about in the past. The smaller, lighter and more compact your camera the more likely you are to have it with you when you need it. That's a simple equation. But I think that there are other forces - dark forces - at work.

Ever since 9/11, passenger air travel has become a trial of patience and a challenge to the traveller's ingenuity. Ever tighter security restrictions have not just reduced the amount of hand baggage but altered it's very composition. Changes in airline pricing structure, encouraging hand-baggage only by imposing a premium on hold baggage has squeezed from the other direction. The travelling photographer wanting to cover all eventualities on a long weekend city break has to fit everything he needs in a bag measuring 56x45x25 centimetres. Being slightly oversized is not an option, unless you want to run the risk of having your bag taken off you at the departures gate and shoved in the hold - don't even try to argue with the gate staff...

All this is old news for the Leica M and LTM user, of course. They have long enjoyed the advantages of a high quality, compact camera system. With the advent of digital, the need to pack multiple rolls of film has been largely circumvented (only to be replaced by the necessary chargers, spare batteries, spare memory cards and a backup storage device, of course...).

All you need? Not quite - yet...


I recently travelled to Malta for a long weekend. Beyond the clothes on my back, everything else, including three cameras, fitted in a Tamrac photo backpack. I recommend the type with the built-in laptop compartment, by the way - it's great for "flatpack" items such as shirts and trousers. Once "in theatre", everything "domestic" can be unpacked and left in your hotel, and your "luggage" becomes an ideal daypack while exploring. I'll do the same when I go to Budapest later this year. I couldn't have dreamed of doing that a few years ago, when I carried a big SLR with matching lenses - that WAS my hand-baggage. I might have fitted a spare pair of socks in the bag besides, but only if I used them as lens pouches. But the encouragement to travel light is powerful, and now we have the high quality compact camera equipment to match.

Compactness is no substitute for planning ahead though - don't for a moment think it is. I have never forgotten traveling all the way to Hawaii and finding myself with no more than a 135mm lens while trying to shoot a pod of whales from a catamaran. I did the best I could, but I was "outgunned" by those who had lugged something a little longer. Not a single decent shot that day, because I hadn't planned. Lesson learned. Now I think about what to take, and squeeze in a longer lens if absolutely necessary.

For the most part though, a decent kit these days takes up little more room than a pair of shoes (alright, I have large feet) and takes far better pictures.

So there we have it. Darwinian evolution is at work. The days of the bulky (D)SLR for travel snaps are numbered, thanks to the cold hand of Al Qaeda. Think of that the next time you heft your camera to your eye...

Bill

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

There can be only One (Challenge)...

Now.

By the time you read this I shall be in sunny Malta, for this year's One Challenge. This was a competition wot I invented six years ago exclusively for the users of Leica cameras that frequent the Leica User Forum. That first year, twelve die-hard souls met up in the Chandos pub in St Martins' Lane, London, on a dank and dreary December day. Some lunch and convivial chat followed, then everyone made their way out into the gathering gloom to shoot 36 exposures in one hour, with one camera, one lens, one ISO, one focal length and one aim in view - to capture the essence of the place.

How far we have travelled since that first gathering - literally. Subsequent One Challenges have taken place in Amsterdam, Paris, Berlin, Krakow and now Valetta. The shooting time is now two hours, but the other rules have remained the same; short, simple and truly challenging. Amateurs and pros alike are tested by the rules, by the strange surroundings and by the time constraint. It is not as easy as it sounds to capture the essence of a whole city in such a short space of time. After the event, the entrant has to select one of their thirty-six shots to put up for the public vote - the most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing. We have had some close-run voting in the past, but the winner has invariably been more than worthy.

It's not about the money, either. The "entry fee" has stood at ten Euros for the past six years. That forms the "pot" - winner takes all. Nobody is going to get rich winning The One, but they will have the satisfaction of knowing that their carefully captured and selected shot has won them the acclaim of their peers. On a number of occasions, the prize money has been donated to charity by the winner - a grand gesture that is in keeping with the spirit of Leica.

The One Challenge was always meant to be as much about the opportunity to socialise as about the competition. In recent years that too has evolved from a quick pint at the pub to drinks the evening before, lunch immediately before, dinner the evening after... it's a never-ending social whirl! It's great to meet up with old friends each year, and to put faces to new names. Long-suffering partners come along too, and make the evening dinner far less Leica-focussed - thank goodness!

The One Challenge has also spawned it's own offspring - The Uno Challenge in Los Angeles, and other spin-offs worldwide. It has been featured in the LFI, and has attracted sponsorship in the form of prizes from Leica and this year from Red Dot Cameras in London. Ivor, the owner has very kindly donated a D-Lux 4 to this year's winner - a tremendous prize and one well worth going the extra mile to win.

So. The One Challenge is now a healthy, active 6-year old, that shows no sign of slowing down. When we meet this year, we will discuss where to go in 2010 - that's half the fun of it. My thanks to the organisers, both for this year and past years, who took up the original mantle and have helped The One to be the fun event it is today.

Yes, I am proud of The One Challenge, but most of all I am proud of my third placing in 2007 - the best I have done so far!

Bill

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

Snob value...?

If I had a Pound (or a Euro, or a Dollar, etc.) for every terabyte of server space devoted to the subject of snobbery - particularly pertaining to photo equipment - I would almost have enough to afford an M9. I mention the M9 because as a brand Leica seems to attract more snobbery - both real and inverted - than any other brand of equipment with a lens on the front.

One of those ghastly on-line dictionaries - you know, the ones that claim that "lense" is a word - defines snobbery as "...the trait of condescending to those of lower social status". In this context "social status" is defined not by birth but by financial clout. There is no such thing as a "cheap" Leica; even second-hand they command a premium over comparable equipment - assuming that anything comparable exists, which is frequently not the case anyway.

So why are Leicas so expensive? And why do people with more money than sense buy them? Finally, why does Leica ownership inspire such envy in others?

To understand this phenomenon we have to understand the unique place that the Leica camera holds in both history and mythology. Long ago, it ceased to be just a picture-taking machine. It became a lifestyle choice, before the term was even invented. When Leitz Camera introduced the Luxus in the 1930s it set the tone for years to come. Never let anyone tell you that the Leica was a professionals' camera that has been adopted by well-heeled amateurs - the well-heeled amateurs got there first, at the time the professionals were still using bulky full- half- and quarter-plate folders and 120 rollfilm and looking down their noses at the new-fangled "miniature" format as inadequate for serious use.

It didn't take long, however, for canny pros to realise that those pesky amateurs were on to something worthwhile; the light and compact Leica and its contemporaries taking 35mm film loads were turning up all over the place and producing publishable results. From the Arctic to the Antarctic, from the gondola of a Zeppelin to the pyramids of Egypt, the world was being viewed through a small viewfinder and captured through an Elmar.

The Leica was never cheap. It was hand-made with quality materials and for years represented the acme of German manufacturing ingenuity. Have a look at a Leitz product catalogue from 80 years ago and you can see that the camera itself was just at the tip of an ever-increasing iceberg of accessories and attachments, each identified by its' own five-letter designation - LYCAN, FODOR, FODIS, VALOY and of course my all time favourite, NOOKY. The complexity of the system of course appealed to the boy within the man - it's the same thing you see today with modern gadgets - iphones, bluetooth headphones, GPS keyrings, Nespresso coffee makers - boy toys one and all. The Gnomes of Solms (well, the Gnomes of Wetzlar at that time) were quick to realise that the acquisition of the kit was as important to the experience as the end result.

Fast forward to today; Leica is no longer at the bleeding edge of camera design; instead the company and its' products occupy a niche that was until recently almost unassailable - the cost of entry is prohibitive to all but the most resourceful - or obsessed. Nikon, Canon, Olympus and the rest have left Leica to it, abandoning the rangefinder as the SLR moved into the ascendant. And with a few notable exceptions - Voigtlander, Epson, Contax, Zeiss, Rollei (has anyone actually SEEN a Rollei m-mount rangefinder?) that is the way it has largely stayed. Only with the advent of micro four-thirds has there been a resurgence of the non-SLR "serious" camera as - belatedly - the big boys have realised once again that there is a market for small, high quality interchangeable lens system cameras.

Snobbery abounds there too, though. When Panasonic announced the GF-1 interchangeable lens micro four-thirds camera it took about 24 hours before it was being derided on the internet as the "GirlFriend-1" - a camera that no "serious" photographer would be seen dead with. This is of course bollocks, but sadly is a school of thought to be found almost exclusively among middle-aged men with more money than sense.

...and there is the crux of the problem. Like many quality items in this world - expensive sports-cars, high-end watches, bespoke tailoring - Leica ownership is not a young man's game. Forking out the thick end of £5000 for a camera body is not something that the average thirtysomething trying to bring up a young family is going to regard as a high priority.

Snobbery - or is it passive aggressive racism? also surfaces in the form of the perennial "Where is it made?" question. To some, it is not a Leica if it isn't made in Germany. Leitz Midland in Canada and the Portuguese facility are dismissed as not quite good enough, and heaven help a lens made under licence in Japan! The highest opprobrium is reserved, however, for the products of the partnership with Panasonic. Derided as "Panaleicas", they are regarded as the bastard spawn of a desperate marketing manager's wet dream. The reality - that they are built in close co-operation to a high standard, that they bring in a newer, younger clientele that would otherwise never go near Leica, and the fact that they provide an "on-ramp" for new customers who graduate to the more expensive products - is conveniently ignored. This has reached new heights with the recent announcement of the X1 - the very thought that a Japanese company may have had a hand in its' manufacture sends some into a fit of the vapours.

Lastly, we have the "It's good but it's not a Leica" snobbery that is displayed at the sight of a non-Leica lens mounted to a Leica body. Cosina Voigtlander (CV) and Zeiss have brought to market some groundbreaking lenses in recent years. They may not be the match of the equivalent Leica glass, but more often than not they are not specifically designed to go toe-to-toe with Solms' finest. Until very recently, there was no overlap at all between the CV and Leica lens ranges. Either focal length, aperture or both varied. To this day Leica still do not offer a 12mm lens, for example, or a 40mm 1.4, both of which CV introduced. Above all, CV revitalised the screw-mount ("LTM" or "Barnack") market with a slew of new lenses, offering modern glass in the classic mount and bringing a new lease of life to the older bodies alongside their own offerings. Lenses should be regarded as a palette, or perhaps more accurately as a selection of brushes; each delivers a different result, in support of the photographer's vision. Sharpness may be a quantifiable absolute, but since when was photography about absolute technical perfection?

So.

There are Leica snobs - elitism is rife. But does that explain the bitchiness and envy that abounds? Every time Leica puts a foot wrong - or even dares to go quiet for a time - the nay-sayers and doom-mongers gather. Every time somebody dares to praise the company or its' products there are those who will crawl out of the woodwork to point out that somebody else does it better/cheaper/faster. Buyers are derided for spending so much money on something that is far more capable than they are.

It seems to me that, like Montblanc, Rolex, Porsche etc. Leica has fallen into the "lifestyle" niche - a discretionary purchase that says as much about the purchaser as it performs the task it is designed for. iPods are egalitarian - everyone has one and they are cheap and plentiful. Leicas are elitist because they are expensive and (relatively) rare.


Posh "porn" - Montblanc and Leica...

Ultimately, it doesn't matter. If you can afford it, buy it. Personally, I have a simple philosophy - "buy cheap, buy twice". I bought my M7 new back in 2002 when they were first introduced. Since then I have lost count of number of SLRs and DSLRs and compacts (with various innards) that have sat alongside it in my gadget bag. It has long since paid for itself, and will continue to do so for as long as I can get film to feed it. It has been joined in recent years by an M2 and a II - neither of them in the first flush of youth, but both capable of superlative photography for years to come.

Snobbery? No. Lifestyle choice? Maybe. Lifelong choice? Yes.

Bill

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