Another batch of images that I just got around to processing…shot with the 50/2 APO-Summicron ASPH and M9-P. Enjoy! MT
2012 Equipment picks for travel photography
June 20, 2012 by
This is an article that will probably go out of currency about six months after it’s published, but no matter; just because new cameras are released, it doesn’t reduce the usefulness or image-making ability of older ones. Travel is something I do for both work and pleasure; in my previous corporate life I used to travel heavily (think anywhere up to 100+ sectors per year) for work. My love for photography inevitably led me to carry a camera of some sort wherever i went – both to document my experiences as well as for use as stress release during my limited free time. Shooting is cathartic to me – I’m probably the only person I know who relaxes after a day of commercial shooting by taking pictures.
Traveling for meetings and other corporate reasons really takes most of the fun out of it; the TSA and other forms of airport security and administration do the rest. Much to my wife’s consternation, it’s taking me a little while to start enjoying it again.
The thought of going on a trip actually presents me with much anxiety: what the hell do I bring in the way of equipment? Early on in my photographic career, the choice was simple: everything that would fit into the bag, which at that point, was pretty much everything. Later, I’d take just new gear, or once again, if undecided, pretty much everything. However, my first trip with a significant other – Paris – showed me that hefting around all of that gear was both pointless when the primary purpose of your trip isn’t photography, as well as that it’s a sure way of annoying the hell out of your partner.
This considered, equipment choices changed from ‘how do I use X piece of gear?’ to ‘what is the minimum I can get away with and not feel like I’m missing anything?’ (My article on minimalism deals with this handily).
As a general rule of thumb, I don’t like to bring untried or untested gear with me unless I have absolutely no choice (my Vienna/ Prague trip at the end of 2011 was to get some images for Leica; that was the first time I was shooting the M9-P and 28/2.8 ASPH properly, and I paid for it occasionally with missed shots and questionable focus); there’s too much at stake if it breaks or doesn’t perform as expected. You’re probably not going to be able to repeat that trip to the Himalayas, so it’s probably a good idea to bring both a spare camera and a primary that you know can handle a bit of abuse.
What I do like a lot at the moment are both the raw shooting compacts – think the Ricoh GR-Digital III/ IV, Leica D-Lux 5/ Panasonic LX5; and the most compact of the system cameras. My current choice for travel is the Olympus OM-D, because of its image quality, huge responsiveness, small size – and more importantly, small system size – and ability to work well with longer lenses.
The Leica M9-P ranks pretty high up that list too – however, using anything over 50mm isn’t so easy without a magnifier, and if you’ve got one of those on, then you can kiss goodbye to your 28mm. It also isn’t so flexible when it comes to shooting food, for instance – another thing I enjoy. I do admit, it looks and feels nicer, though – but I’m shallow that way. (Why not travel in style if you can?) However, the biggest gotcha with the Leica is the liability – I don’t know how it is in other parts of the world, but to get insurance for cameras in Malaysia is near impossible, especially if you’re going to be taking them out of the country. And the premiums to fully cover an M system would probably cost a goodly portion of the trip itself.
I like to go with a two-lens kit these days – 24/28 and 85/90. This gives me two distinct perspectives, prime lens quality, fast apertures (with the low light ability and depth of field control that also implies) and (mostly) reduced size. This means the 24/1.4 AFS and 85/1.4 AFS on the D700; the Olympus 12/2 and 45/1.8 on the OM-D and Pen Mini; or some mixture of the Zeiss 28/2.8 Biogon, 50/2 Planar, Leica 28/2.8 ASPH and 50/1.4 ASPH on the M9 (anything longer being impractical). Where possible, I’ll generally also bring a spare body in the same mount, and perhaps also a highly capable compact – the Pen Mini and 20/1.7 pancake or Ricoh GR-Digital III usually fill this niche. I also like the Leica D-Lux 5, because its lens conveniently happens to go from 24 to 90mm…
The one hypothetical situation – which so far has not yet happened – where I’d make an unconventional equipment choice would be if I went skiing. The landscape opportunities are fantastic, but one generally needs more millimeters to make it work; however, there’s a lot of light, so they don’t have to be fast millimeters. I’d probably use the D800E and 28-300VR in a chest pouch, with a 45/2.8 P pancake in the front pocket for when the light gets low and I want something smaller for social evening activities.
If I’m going to an advanced country where spares are easily available, I’ll probably go with just one body; Japan would be a good example of this (though for some odd reason, I’ve always had two bodies whenever I’ve been there). This reduces weight drastically, and I know that I can still use my Nikon lenses if I have to pick up a used D700 or something to replace it. The other nice thing is worldwide support via NPS, which I’ve had to use in the past when the lens release button on my D3 fell off on the second day of my trip(!).
There are reasons for having two bodies, however – instant readiness is one of them – but it’s also important to consider how much of the trip you plan to spend shooting, and how much you plan to spend enjoying and experiencing being in a different place. It would be a shame to miss out on or have an incomplete experience because you’re too busy trying to get the shot. (I’m one of those strange people who experiences things by shooting them, so you may not necessarily want to follow exactly what I do here, either.)
So, distilling all that into a paragraph, my current camera choice would be the Olympus OM-D, 12/2 and 45/1.8 lenses. Either with a second OM-D body, or a Pen Mini as backup.
What about other equipment?
Well, batteries and chargers are a no-brainer. Figure out what you need for a full day of shooting, and bring one more so you can be charging and shooting at the same time. This number should be at least two. Ideally, you’d want your cameras to share batteries and chargers to improve backup, but this isn’t always possible. It seems that all camera makers want us to buy their horribly overpriced accessories all over again every time a new camera is released. Shame on you.
Spare cards are also a no-brainer. I generally bring three to four times what I think I’ll need; these days it’s usually 32 GB cards in the cameras, another two spares each, and some older 16GB spares.
Depending on how long you’re going to be on the road, you might want to consider bringing some sort of editing device or at least something to give you web access; I like the 11″ Apple MacBook Air because it’s both a proper computer, and light enough that you don’t notice you’ve got it. I don’t do any processing on it because of screen color accuracy issues, but I could if I had to. In fact, almost all of this blog is written from that machine. It also gives me somewhere to backup my files to at the end of the day. (Although I won’t do any photoshop work, I can do some light editing after seeing what works on a larger screen and what doesn’t.) After a two week trip, the last thing you want is for one of your cards to get corrupted and take all of your images with it. Backups are important: I’ve learned that the hard way in the past. Fitted into the USB ports are a pair of 32GB Sandisk Cruzer Fit USB drives, which are extremely small – they stick out about 5mm – but add another 64GB of solid state storage, which works as another backup. I’ve also got one of my portable drives with me, which holds a complete backup of my work at home – just in case something happens while I’m not there.
A comfortable bag is a must for moving from location to location, but when you’re there and shooting, you might want to consider a waist pouch or shooting jacket instead (depending of course on the climate). If I’m going with two bodies, I’d put a lens on each, spare cards and batteries in a cargo pants pocket, and off we go. It’s much, much more pleasant to shoot unencumbered without any bags or things that you might have to watch out for or remember to zip up and guard against thieves; you’ll be surprised how much of a difference it makes to your travel photography experience. I went with a shooting jacket last time, a couple of lenses in my pockets and one camera around my neck, and it was a hugely liberating experience.
Other things that are useful, but people seldom think of:
– Chewing gum.
– A permanent CD marker.
– Business cards, if you’re a pro photographer.
– Press passes – you’d be surprised how many times this has gotten me into places to get shots where the public wouldn’t normally be allowed.
– Duct tape, and cloth tape – it’s the magical stuff that holds the universe together. Both of them together, wrapped around that original particle, could probably have prevent the big bang from happening. Good thing they were inside the particle.
– Plastic ziploc bags, big enough to hold your cameras. This is my emergency rain cover, in case it gets really bad; however, you can take care of this to some extent by having a weather sealed camera. The lightest, smallest one in this class is the OM-D.
– A small flash, if you haven’t got one built into the camera; fill at night is useful.
– A tabletop tripod for long exposures; you can also rotate it through 90 degrees and brace it up against a window. I like the Manfrotto 345 set, which comes with some incredibly sturdy cast magnesium legs, a small ballhead, and an aluminum extension (which can be useful for small cameras, but absolutely too weak for larger ones).
– If you’re going to a hostile environment like the sea, then UV filters to fit all lenses.
– Spare lens caps and back caps**.
– Lens hoods. They’re good bumpers against impact protection.
– A small multitool. You might have to check this one in. Those little screwdrivers are extremely handy; actually, make sure you check your mount screws for tightness before leaving home – they have a curious proclivity to work themselves loose over time.
– Copies of your critical travel documents on a USB memory stick or memory card.
– Memory card reader; the compact direct-plug-in USB types are the most handy.
– A local sim card and cheap phone to put it in might be useful for extended trips.
**I usually tape two together, back-to-back, to make lens changing easier. Take the lens off the camera, put it onto your double-ended special, then take the other lens off and put it onto the camera. No fumbling with caps or leaving things unnecessarily uncovered. The alternative – aside from having two bodies – is to use a waist pouch or drop-in and forgo the caps entirely. Just make sure there isn’t anything else inside the pouch that could damage your lenses.
One last thing: don’t forget to have fun. It’s infinitely better to go with less gear and get creative to make do with what you did bring, rather than carry 30kg with you because you’re worried about the security of your hotel room and can’t bring yourself to leave anything behind, but at the same time don’t really want to walk around all day with it either. MT
Update, August 2012: I want to add the Sony RX100 to the list of recommended cameras. If you’re traveling in a group or with a partner, or doing any sort of travel at all where photography is not your primary objective, then consider taking along the RX100 instead of something larger. It’s barely noticeable until you need to get the shot, then it does it with a minimum of fuss and hides until it’s called upon again. It’s the very definition of the concept of photographic sufficiency.
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Photoessay: The Jaeger Le-Coultre Master Ultra Thin Moon
June 19, 2012 by
From the horological files. MT
Set shot with a Nikon D800E, several SB900s, the AFS 60/2.8 G Micro, and one shot with a Leica 35/1.4 ASPH FLE via adaptor – see if you can spot which one!
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Olympus OM-D lockup problems
June 19, 2012 by
I’ve found a particular combination of button presses that makes my OM-D lock up – admittedly it’s probably one that only I use, but I thought people should be aware so they can avoid it:
1. I’ve got my camera set to Continuous-L, 4fps, RAW.
2. Play back a file
3. Press the Fn1 button to zoom to 10x, keep pressing to zoom out again to the screen that shows the zoom slider and thumbnail toggle (i.e. keep pressing the button)
4. At that screen, press the Fn2 button to protect the file
5. You’ll now find the camera has locked up and requires a battery removal.
6. The file will still be there, though.
So there you have it. Unfortunately it happens to follow the way I work (zoom in to check focus, zoom out, protect file) – same thing I do with my Nikons – just that here it seems to trigger some sort of firmware panic, which requires a battery removal to resolve. MT
Book review: Supercell by Kevin Erskine
June 18, 2012 by
Image from Amazon.
Suppose you only ever photographed one subject in your life – hell, you’re not even a photographer by training or trade – what would your images look like? Supercell is the answer. Kevin Erskine is a farmer living in the American midwest, who also happens to be a storm enthusiast (storm chaser? I have no idea what these types of people are called).
What’s unique about this book is that Erskine photographs nothing but clouds and storms – he might well be great at portraits too, but it seems unlikely judging from the text. I must admit that a huge part of the appeal of this book for me stems from the subject – granted, the images are technically competent and nicely printed, but I want to look at the clouds, not the photograph. It’s one of those collections whose images speak for themselves – it’s rare, but you can actually look through the image, through the ink, through the page, through the book, and into the scene itself – nothing more, and nothing less.
Image from Amazon
And you know what, I really, really like it. To be honest, this book isn’t for everybody. Many viewers will find it extremely boring; page after page after page of nothing but clouds, tornadoes, rain, and myriad other forms of atmospheric precipitation. But to a huge Magritte fan like myself, who lives in the tropics and sees nothing but perhaps two or three common varieties of cumulus (and if you’re lucky, the occasional cirrocumulus) – it’s like looking at pornography. I can only imagine how much more interesting my cityscapes would be against a backdrop of enormous dramatic clouds; the interplay of light and shadow off the glass facades of modern architecture. Alas, Erskine’s problem is perhaps the opposite of mine: he has no end of clouds to play with, but nary any more construction than a grain silo or barn – the equivalent to our local clouds.
Image from Amazon
Almost all of the images in the book were shot with a wide angle, large-format camera; there really is no other way to capture the scale and majesty of the formations otherwise. I’m curious though, with such a slow method of working, how on earth does he get out of the way of the weather in time? It must be a pretty near thing in some of the images.
Image from Amazon
If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to live in the great empty plains, or wanted to, then this is the book for you. It’s as much about the infinite fractal variety in nature as it is about the powerful beauty of clouds. And if you don’t like clouds, or prefer to live in the city, then it would at least make a great present for your meteorologist. MT
Photoessay: Around the temple at Tanah Lot, Bali
June 17, 2012 by
Tanah Lot is a rock formation on one of the Balinese beaches on the western side of the southern tip of the island, facing the Indian ocean. It’s also home to a famous temple to the Balinese sea gods, purportedly set up by the 15th century priest Nimrata. During the 1980s, subsidence and erosion threatened the temple’s survival; a comprehensive restoration and stabilization program saw about a third of the ‘rock’ replaced with artificial rock and concrete – courtesy of the Japanese Government. Today, it’s a popular site for both tourists and pilgrims. MT
This set was shot in 2006 with a Panasonic TZ3.
Travel minimalism: one lens to go
June 16, 2012 by
Canterbury in autumn. Leica M8, 21/1.4 ASPH
Every time I travel for personal purposes, I’m always torn between experiencing the place, and photographing the place. Photography is such a part of me that sometimes I feel that I experience and understand things more through trying to capture the essence of them. Or perhaps it’s because doing so forces you into conscientious observer mode, and this in turn makes one’s mind more receptive to things, and more willing to question what you see and find juxtapositions or contrasts.
Canterbury Cathedral crypt. Leica M8, 21/1.4 ASPH
That aside one of the things which inevitably keeps me up the night before departure is trying to figure out what to bring equipment-wise. If it’s on assignment, then I bring everything I might possibly need, plus spares – to hell with overweight baggage, if you don’t have it, it could mean a lost job – on the other hand, if I’m traveling for myself, I’d rather carry as little gear as possible. Well, little enough that I don’t notice it after walking around for hours on end, but with sufficient coverage that I don’t get frustrated and feel like I missed a rare photographic opportunity because I didn’t bring along a wide angle. Or something along those lines.
A Parisian in her natural habitat. Leica M8, 21/1.4 ASPH
My last personal vacation saw me bringing an Olympus Pen Mini, the 14-42 kit lens and a Panasonic 20/1.7 pancake. We went to the beach. Frankly this made the choice easy as I didn’t really want to expose any of the more expensive gear to moisture, salt and sand; the M9-P definitely would not have been suitable, and the D800 might have produced great landscapes, but it would also have worked fine as a boat anchor.
Three conversations, Paris. Leica M8, 21/1.4 ASPH
I’ve been trying to fine-tune this over the years. I’ve been on trips where I did carry coverage from 14-450mm and a spare body; whilst I got some great images, I also had a sore back, and landed up leaving everything but one body and the 24-70 zoom in the hotel room for the last week. More crucially, I felt the images produced from that trip lacked focus; I brought everything, so subconsciously I was actually trying to capture everything. The upshot is a set of images that isn’t as strong as it could have been, and worse still, experiencing that slightly chaotic panicky feeling that you just might have missed a shot opportunity somewhere.
Tate Modern yard, London. Ricoh GR Digital III
My preferred travel kit is a moderate wide, and a moderate telephoto – both fast – and one body. I might carry a spare compact or something similar as a backup, just in case. I’ve gone with the D700, 24/1.4 and 85/1.4 – this is an absolutely fantastic and hugely flexible combination – plus a spare compact, either the Fuji X100, Leica D-Lux 5, or my favorite, the Ricoh GR-Digital III. Most recently, I spent two weeks in Europe with an M9-P, 28 and 50mm lenses, plus the Pen Mini and 45/1.8 (giving me 90mm in a pocket). This was also an excellent combination, and in some ways better than the Nikon based setup due to weight and instant availability of the telephoto. However, it lagged hugely in low light performance. I think the next trip I take will probably be Micro 4/3 based; an OM-D and Pen Mini with 12, 20 and 45mm lenses will cover the vast majority of situations handily. And not weigh very much, either.
Piccadilly Circus, London. Ricoh GR Digital III
So what’s all of this talk about a single lens?** Or single camera? There are advantages to this approach: firstly, you’re unencumbered and free to enjoy the atmosphere, people and culture without feeling like a packhorse; a small camera around your neck is probably much easier to manage than an entire backpack full of lenses. Also, you don’t have to worry as much about security – frankly, carrying several Leica f1.4 Summiluxes and a Noctilux around even safe Singapore made me pretty nervous.
**Let me clarify: I don’t mean going with a 28-300, though I suppose this might be a viable option for some situations. That lens has more compromises than strengths, and if you don’t know how to manage your perspectives properly, then you’ll land up with weak images too, because you’ll always be trying to ‘zoom in’.
The Shard, under construction. Ricoh GR Digital III
The main advantage, however, is that it frees up your mind from having to think about what perspective to take for a scene. Do you find the essence in the details, or do you go for something wider and more encompassing, with context? Trouble is, there is often no right answer – and from experience, I know that inevitably you’ll land up trying to make both work and being satisfied with neither. On the other hand, if you’ve got just one focal length, then you can pre visualize what your frame will look like; with sufficient experience, your eye naturally looks for compositions that fit within the perspective and angle of view of the lens you’ve got. Thus: instead of wondering what perspective to use, you’re free to spent that mental capacity on fine-tuning the elements inside the frame of the only perspective you have. It can be liberating – providing you’re thinking about the photograph, and not about the equipment you left at home. There’s also the side benefit of not having to change lenses, and thus always being ready.
The doorway, Hanoi. Nikon D700, 85/1.4 G
I actually did this on several occasions. At the end of 2009, I made short trips to Oxford, Canterbury and Paris; for these I brought two lenses (21 and 50mm for the M8) but only used the 21. I did it again in 2010; the first trip saw me bringing a D700 and several lenses, plus the Ricoh GR-Digital III; I only used the Ricoh and its fixed 28mm because it was both much more convenient, as well as matching the way my eye was tuned at the time after my first Leica-M experience. I got wiser on the second trip and left everything behind except the GR-Digital III. Hanoi later that year saw me using only the D700 and 85/1.4 G.
A Vietnamese stereotype. Hanoi. Nikon D700, 85/1.4 G
If you are going to try this exercise, I’d recommend going for a wide normal rather than an ultra wide or a tele; for the simple reason that these are the most flexible focal lengths to use. 35-50mm can appear wide or moderately telephoto depending on how you choose to use the foreground elements in your scene. And at some point, chances are you’ll probably want to take a photo of yourself or your traveling companion (or both of you, or your family…you get the point) – and it’s generally much easier with something wide or normal than say a 300mm.
Prague castle and stars. Leica M9-P, 28/2.8 ASPH
Some people may find a telephoto easier to use in these kinds of situations because they can snipe from a distance; I’d personally advise against it because it’s very difficult to make images with context; and that’s one of the cornerstones of travel photography. The bokeh may be great, but if the background gives you no clue as to where the subject is, then the image could well have been shot anywhere – and that somewhat defeats the point of travel photography.
A Viennese moment. Leica M9-P, 28/2.8 ASPH
Personally, if I had to pick, I’d go with either a 28mm, or a 35mm – depending on whether my images would likely be more people-biased (longer), or more location-biased (wider). And it’d have to be fast, too; I’d be using the lens at night, and anything slower than 2.8 wouldn’t cut it. Frankly, in some situations, even f2.8 may be a little borderline. Finally, it’d have to go on something small, light and unobtrusive; responsiveness is important because your ability to anticipate things will be a little bit diminished thanks to the foreign environment. Right now, my choice is probably between the Olympus OM-D and Panasonic 20/1.7, the Ricoh GR-Digital III/ IV, or the Leica M9-P and a 35/1.4 ASPH FLE.
Give it a try. On your next trip, just use a 35 or 50 prime for at least a day or two; if it makes you feel better, bring along your zooms too, but don’t use them until you absolutely feel that you’re missing shots. MT
Wat Arun and Boat, Bangkok. Leica M9-P, 35/1.4 ASPH FLE
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More minor layout and navigation changes…
June 16, 2012 by
I’ve been avoiding a sidebar because it looks cluttered, but I’m also convinced now that it’s near impossible to find older posts or navigate the other content easily; trying to figure out how to change the widths was a bit more of a pain, however. Let me know what you think – all feedback appreciated, thanks! MT
Photoessay: In the pit lane at the Super Japan GT
June 15, 2012 by
Shot in 2011, from the pits during the Super Japan GT500/GT300 race at Sepang International Circuit, Malaysia. Had to make do with the 28-300 VR – which was extremely challenging for moving vehicles. Since I don’t regularly shoot wildlife or sport, I also don’t have any long fast glass. Still, an interesting experience. MT
Series shot with Nikon D700, D5100 and AFS 28-300/3.5-5.6 VR
Some thoughts on reprocessing and revisiting images
June 14, 2012 by
The difference of seven years of Photoshop skill: 2012 (left) vs 2005 (right). Mandarin duck; Nikon D2H, Tokina AF 80-200/2.8
From day one, I was told by every serious photographer two things: one, don’t delete anything because opportunities never come twice, but storage is cheap; two, shoot raw, and keep your raw files somewhere in an archive. Or at very least, keep your original jpegs if your camera doesn’t do raw.
I only recently started doing the former: I keep all of the raw files from a commercial shoot, and then send a contact sheet off to the client to let them pick the ones they want retouched – usually between 10 and 50%, per whatever the commercial agreement was. The rest stay in the archive in case they come back later and want to license additional images, or I need to composite in bits during the retouching. For my personal work, I cull ruthlessly – the rationale and the methodology was previously covered in this article.
Venice, 2004. Nikon D70, 24-120VR
One of the more popular justifications given for being the image-hoarding equivalent of a packrat is that you might want to go back and reprocess your files later once technology or your technique improves, so you can get more out of the original image. This makes sense from a logical point of view, but from a practical standpoint, if you’ve improved that much as a photographer it’s probably because you’re out there shooting new stuff and refining both the shooting and processing portions of your technique. In short: I’ve never gone back and reprocessed anything. Well, there might have been a couple of exceptions when an image was licensed to a client and adjusted for print or to the client’s taste, but nothing more than that. I honestly don’t have time to reprocess my personal work.
Venice, 2012
However, I suppose we could all find time to do things if we thought they were important enough. And this brings me to the biggest argument against reprocessing images: your artistic vision for that particular image, or what you saw in that particular scene, will never be stronger than at the time of shooting. It just fades gradually as time passes; this is just a consequence of the way the human brain works: we forget things over time. And unless you suddenly look at an image again later and find something that bothers you hugely, you’re probably just going to go with whatever you thought was best at the time.
Courchevel cloud, 2005. D2H, Sigma 70-300/4-5.6 APO
However, in the interests of academic curiosity, I’m going to do some reprocessing for this article. I don’t know how it’s going to turn out: I’m writing this philosophical portion of the article before doing the work. Frankly even finding shots that meet my compositional standards is tough, because I (hope, at any rate) have moved on significantly in my photographic abilities since these images were shot. There’s no point in reprocessing something from last month, because I don’t think you’ll see any difference in the before and after – one’s style changes slowly, like a tree growing. But one’s style is also defined by the way you shoot, and there are things I do routinely now – for instance, cinematic, very shallow DOF in low light – which I couldn’t physically have done back then, because the equipment didn’t exist.
Courchevel cloud, 2012.
The archives have been raided, and yielded a number of images. In some cases I’ve had to use the original JPEGs as a starting point because I didn’t have raw files; this is obvious in the lack of file quality and noise. There’s not a lot I can do about that, unfortunately; 8 compressed bits of tonal information can never be made into 16 complete ones. You’ll also see in some places I disagreed with my original processing choice of B&W vs color, and even the final crop – I guess as one’s style and eye evolves, we see different things in the same image. The eagle-eyed of you will also notice small corrections to composition via distortion, cropping or stretching; I normally do these things today, but I’m sure I wasn’t doing any of it at the time. Similarly, dust/ speck cloning was something I never bothered with. I’ve picked a wide range of subjects, too. I’m going to post the final state I arrived at back at the time – usually a mildly edited jpeg – and the reprocessed, 2012-version. I would highly encourage all of my readers to share their thoughts on which they prefer, and why; let the comments section be a forum for discussion. I’ve also provided some thoughts below on each individual image.
Nikko station, 2007. Nikon D200, 17-55/2.8
Nikko station, 2012. There’s a lot of empty space in the top portion of this image, especially the overexposed window at top left; it threatens to imbalance the composition – hence switching to a 16:9 crop. The original colors in the scene were delicate and tonally interesting, so I opted to rebalance for true color instead of do another monochrome conversion.
Piazza San Marco, Venice, 2004. Nikon D70, 24-120VR
Piazza San Marco, Venice, 2012. This is one of the very early images from my DSLR career; up til this point I’d been using a super zoom compact. If I’d known any better, I’d have used a different exposure time to retain more suggestion of people in the scene, or better yet, stacked many exposures. And f10 isn’t exactly the optimal aperture on the first-generation 24-120VR. Aside from the obvious color fix – this is much closer to the reality I remember than the original processing – verticals, horizontals and tonal maps have also been tweaked. I don’t think the composition is particularly fantastic, but gimme a break, I just started at this point, okay? 🙂
Kinkakuji, Kyoto, 2007. Nikon D200, 17-55/2.8
Kinkakuji, Kyoto, 2012. You’ll notice there isn’t a lot of difference between the two; this was from a later period in my photographic career where my processing was both more refined, and I was shooting RAW (with all of the associated available adjustments) to hand. I didn’t change the composition, though I’m not 100% happy about the positioning of some of the edge elements in the frame; the majority of the change was to sort out the dayglo colors, and the horribly inaccurate foliage. It was a particularly hot summer that year; the image was shot in August, and the trees were looking a little dry and wilted – I think this is much closer to the reality I remember at that point.
Scarlet Ibis, 2007. Nikon D200, AI 500/4 P
Scarlet Ibis, 2012. Not a lot of change; I punched up the color a little, because these birds are pretty darn striking in person. I don’t remember the color of the swamp, so I left it much as-is. Again: a late 2007 image.
La Tania sunset, France. Nikon D2H, Sigma 70-300/4-5.6 APO
La Tania sunset, France. WHOA! You’re probably wondering what happened here – of all the images, this is the one which is the most different from the original. Aside from the obvious change in crop, I’ve now got the shadow recovery tool at my disposal, and better yet, an intimate familiarity with it. The problem I faced at the time was the sunset was a) both not very punchy and b) the native dynamic range of the scene was already quite challenging, meaning that making the highlight portion punchier would have sacrificed tonal detail in the shadows. At the time, I had no clue how to unblock it. I don’t remember the exact color of the the scene, but I suspect it was probably somewhere between the two images. Which one do you prefer?
Venice, 2004. Nikon D70, 24-120VR
Venice, 2012. At the time, I was influenced heavily by a number of ‘classical’ monochrome shots I’d seen in magazines; as a result, this street scene was instantly converted. What I failed to notice in the original – until now, fortunately I still have the original color jpeg – is that the light spillage from the shop windows at left actually give the image an interesting structure that’s lost in black and white because of the similarity of luminance values between the warm-lit stone and the regular stone. I’ve attempted to bring this back, however the limited dynamic range of the jpeg has led to less smooth tonal transitions than I’d be able to achieve with a raw file. Actually, working this ‘vintage’ jpeg reminded me a lot of dealing with iPhone files – imperfect color, blocked shadows, blown highlights, and a decidedly averse reaction to resizing.
Canal reflections, 2004. Nikon D70, 24-120VR
Canal reflections, 2005. To me, reflections are juxtapositions. Our minds invert them subconsciously anyway, otherwise we would recognize them as the mirror images of their own selves; I usually take this further by treating the image as the real subject, and the subject as the abstraction – what’s the difference anyway, since all images are subjective and facsimiles of the real thing? Aside from that obvious flip, the verticals have been corrected, and the tonality smoothened out – especially in the water, so it looks more like liquid and less like a block of color.
Mandarin duck, 2005. Nikon D2H, Tokina AF 80-200/2.8. For some odd reason Flickr won’t let me re-upload a modern duplicate of this image with the right border and matching image size, so I apologize. However, the original image remains the same.
Mandarin duck, 2012. Improved color accuracy and worked on micro contrast a little.
With all of the reworked versions, I’m not sure I can say that I 100% prefer the 2012 version over the originals – photography is very much the sum of the parts, and the interaction between the original framing and the processing is very much a large component of that. The processing methodology I currently use doesn’t really fit the vision I had back then, and vice versa. Score one for the argument against do-overs: you really can’t fix it in post; you can enhance an image, but not fix something that’s fundamentally wrong with the composition or lighting. Here’s another interesting idea for a future article – reprocessing somebody else’s raw files. Might provide an interesting insight into how much difference Photoshop really makes…MT
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