Sunday, June 28, 2020

Shades Of Blade Runner

For a compilation of the morning walk images, click here.
I'd eat here, if such a restaurant existed.
"...Sushi...and noodles". 
Since we all started sheltering at home in March, I must have watched Blade Runner (the real one) at least six times. I was surprised to learn that it was not well received initially, but rose to achieve a cult status within a variety of genres. For me, it's always been a favorite, although I find it  hard to reconcile this vision of the year 2019 AD with what has actually come to be.

In one sequence, Deckard analyzes one of Leon's photos, and through computer enhancement, is able to produce a grainy image of Zhora, one of the replicants he's been sent to retire. I believe the process and the result can be attributed to creative license on the writer's part, and the resulting image far from providing a definitive identification. 

Screen captures of the photo analysis made in Blade Runner. Photo source here.

Computer enhanced image of Zhora.
I was surprised to find that some legal-geek types submitted a post on whether this image could be admitted as evidence in a court of law, and from what I can tell, it's a well researched argument in favor of the technology. 

Be that as it may, recovering that much information from a grainy 4" X 6" drugstore photograph seems far fetched, and I'm sure that the technology may actually exist to conjure a miracle such as this. 



Artifact, Seventeenth Street In San Francisco. June 20, 2020. 25mm 1.8 lens.
On June 20, I found this strip of color print negatives on a street near my  home. It probably escaped from some trash bin on garbage day, and I noticed it when a gust of wind sent it flying. Introduced in 1982, this strip of Kodak Gold 200 negatives could potentially be almost 40 years old. I made a photo of the negative by holding it slightly above the horizon to show some of the inverse detail. I considered this photo a document of a technology made irrelevant by the digital age, from a time when their were no alternatives to analog technology, as we now call it.


Rudimentary negative reversal via Elements
Prompted by the spirit of Rick Deckard and a passing familiarity with Elements, I inverted the color of the image just to see what this unknown photographer saw through their viewfinder.  It appears to be a performance by an orchestra in a plaza venue that resembles something one might find in Foster City. I'm afraid I won't get much more information than that, seeing that it's 2020, not 2019 from a science fiction film.


Maybe I'll be interested enough to attempt a more detailed reversal of a color negative under more controlled circumstances. In the mean time, I think I'll call Chewbacca and see if the Cantina in Mos Eislie has outdoor seating.

Sunday, May 24, 2020

The 7artisans Experience - The Final Word

For a compilation of the morning walk images, click here.
7artisan lenses, from left to right: 12mm F 2.8, 25mm F 1.8, 35mm F 1.2,  and the 50mm F 1.4.
Now that I've played with four of the six 7artisans lenses, I have drawn some conclusions based on actual use. I've had fun with all of them, and consider them good value for the money, with some caveats.

Marrying  Down: I want to immediately dismiss the "marrying down" aspect of using these lenses. I bought them in an attempt to re-kindle some of the excitement I felt as a pre-digital photographer, when lens focusing was manual, controls were mechanical, and proper exposure was dependent on the type of film you just loaded in your camera. Ironically, as film cameras became more affordable in the mid '80s, my interest in photography started to wane. It wasn't until our school's thrice-annual catalog publication went from actual "cut and paste" to computerized desktop publishing that my interest in photography was reignited.

Olympus 35SP
When my main camera was an Olympus 35SP, a sharp 8" x 10" black and white print was my standard output. Sadly, my particular specimen wasn't as sharp as the hype would have me believe. My father commented, "If you can't make them sharp, make them small." I took this advice to heart, and as a result, adjusted my expectations down from "good" to "good enough". Sharpness became a relative thing, and I went about creating art as best as my equipment and I possibly could. Looking back, the limitations on my equipment forced me to set the bar far lower than where it is today.

The Epiphany: Buying my first Fuji X-Pro1 was the first step. With many photographers excited over the potential for a Leica experience at a much lower price, I thought I'd give this whole manual focus fad a chance. After all, I'd been manually adjusting my cameras since the early '70s, so this was far from being uncharted territory. Since I was sure that the project would include several lenses, it would have been prudent to stay with one brand, hoping the keep the handling as uniform as possible. After looking around, I chose the stay with the 7artisans line of lenses, primarily because they were sold by two of the largest New York camera stores, so if they were willing to stake their reputations on this upstart company, why couldn't I?


Fuji X-E1 body, 35mm F 1.2 7artisans lens
By staying within the 7artisans "family", I assumed that all of the focusing and aperture rings would rotate in the same direction. Here, my decision was partially right and partially wrong. To the good, all of the aperture rings rotate in the same direction, which is to say that rotating the ring to the left, as seen from above, will decrease the size of the aperture. Unfortunately, the 35mm lens, shown here, is the only one whose focusing ring, when turned to the left, goes from near to far. The other three rotate in the opposite direction.


50mm 1.4 lens.
While on the subject of focusing, only the 50mm lens has its focusing ring next to the body. Fortunately, the ring itself is quite wide and easy to grasp should you accidentally grab the aperture ring instead.

There is some discussion on the relative smoothness of the focusing rings, the amount of resistance to rotation, and the number of degrees required to go from nearest to infinity. In all four lenses, this is accomplished by a rotation of about 120 degrees. or one-third of a rotation. They all rotate smoothly (no jumps or rough spots), and all offer a comfortable level of resistance when focusing, although the 25mm lens offer just a tiny bit more.




Al Gore. David Burnett, 2001. Click here for the whole story.
What Really Matters: This photograph of Al Gore was made with a  Holga, a plastic "toy" camera made in Hong Kong and popular in China. In the Wikipedia posting, the camera's simple design and  plastic lens yielded dreamy "surreal" results. This award-winning photo was made with a Holga, and its lack of critical details notwithstanding, succinctly captures the spirit of the 2000 Presidential Campaign. It is elegant in its simplicity. Sharp? Definitely not. In focus? Who can tell. A moment preserved? Very much so.

Why Did I Bother? I'm sure the answer can be inferred from this top view of the Fuji camera I've been using daily for nearly three months. It looks like a real film camera, and to a very great extent, presents the same operational challenges of the film cameras I grew up with. Glancing down at the camera, I needed to confirm that the shutter speed and aperture settings were correct, leaving me to verify the correct focus when the camera was at eye level. In short, the layout of the Fuji reminds me of the care I had to take before I made each exposure.


Ivy Vines On A Wire Fence, Romaine Street San Francisco. April 20, 2020.
This challenge of manual lens photographing has actually been a major motivation for my getting into my walking shoes and venturing out looking for potential subjects. I find myself moving briskly up streets and down avenues, looking for imaging opportunities. I've taken a greater interest in the shadows. light quality, and subtle shaping that are found in the early morning. It is that rush that gets me moving.

Call me a nostalgia buff, if you wish. But if one seduced by total focusing and exposure automation, they are essentially surrendering control over a major portion of the creative process. When I adjustment my camera manually, I'm in total control of the camera. I do avail myself to auto exposure (I shoot aperture priority), which allows me to choose my aperture based on how I want the photo to appear, but will frequently over-ride the camera's settings based on my own experience. In the end, it is my decision on when to shift my car's gears, how much butter and salt to put in my popcorn, and what adjustments will best capture the image that I imagined before the shutter is pressed.

And that's just the way I like it.