photography – Ming Thein

Deconstructed photography, part one: identifying the essentials

December 15, 2012 by Ming Thein

None of the images in this article have any clues as to the camera used, but I feel that they’re strong images nevertheless; if you’re curious you can click through to the image’s flickr hosting page and scroll down to the bottom right; EXIF data is there. Try to ask yourself first though: are there any giveaways that mean it could only have been shot with one particular format or piece of equipment?

This is the first article in a two-part series about photography today, with the ultimate objective – as always – of making a great image, but this time taking full advantage of all the technology at our disposal. After spending some time with medium format in a quest to get another one of those creative spurts brought on by a major change in equipment, I’ve pretty much made a complete U turn and am contemplating a Nikon P7700 instead. Allow me to explain; excuse the somewhat roundabout logic, but I think it will make sense once we reach the end.

We need to backtrack a bit to take into account some fundamental viewer psychology. In the increasingly huge sea of images that are being produced today, what stands out are those that look different from the rest. And for the most part, that difference is obtained by turning something up to 11, rather than nailing the fundamentals of what makes an outstanding image. Commonly seen ‘techniques’ include: oversaturation, HDR, fake cross-processing-hipstagram-effects, over-contrasty black and white conversions, ultrawide perspectives, supertele perspectives, walls of nothing but bokeh…I think you can see where this list is going. In short: if one aspect of the image has to shout to cover the deficiencies of the other portions, then this cannot be a good image in the first place because it fundamentally has those has deficiencies to begin with.

Yet the very reason why these types of images stand out will erode as there are more of them in circulation: they will no longer look different from the rest of the pack. This brings us back to a focus on the fundamental things that make an image work; I’ve said this so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if somebody decides to engrave it on my tombstone (or perhaps I should get a tattoo of it) – light, subject, composition; then, the idea. The idea can come first and override the other three if it’s strong enough, or it can be the underlying reason for their execution. Images with all four properties will endure time and transcend the medium: a strong image in this way will still be arresting whether it was shot with an iPhone or a medium format back.

In that case, why isn’t it the focus of every aspiring photographer to nail the fundamental structure of an image before worrying about the number of pixels or number of stops of dynamic range it has, or the maximum speed of their lens? Simply because it’s much more difficult to do so. On the other hand, photographic technology has some so far in recent times that there are few reasons why we should continue to bother with the technicalities of it all, so long as you know how to control the fundamental parameters that affect the audience’s perception of the image: in a way, it’s taking the Apple design approach to photography. We identify the fundamentals, throw away what isn’t important, and spend a lot more time focusing on what does matter. But at the same time, we avoid things that can be gimmicky or difficult to execute with the aim of providing the average photographer with a nice set of fundamental skills that will serve in the majority of situations.

Although I suspect most photographers already shoot this way – aim, focus, compose to varying degrees of precision and consideration, perhaps compensate exposure, then shoot – a lot of them hide behind the pretence of a lot of complex-looking settings and adjustments that are seldom used outside fully automatic mode, and more often than not just confuse and get in the way when an accidental button press delivers behaviour other than expected.

What I’m saying is that perhaps we should consider the possibility that for the vast majority of situations, it’s not a bad idea to acknowledge and embrace that. Why do I need to manually set my exposure if the camera’s meter can get it right? Why does it matter what white balance is or the exact Kelvin temperature of a scene if the camera’s automatic white balance can cope? Why do we need to pick the focus point if most of the time, the camera is right, and the rest of the time, extended depth of field covers the errors? Why spend time processing RAW files individually if the JPEGs are excellent, or even better?* Let technology do the work, and forget about all of those settings that don’t matter – don’t even bother including them. Why should there be an option for dynamic range 100%, 200% and 400% when clearly we want 400% for 99% of situations? We shouldn’t even need custom functions if the camera behaves in a sensible and consistent manner.

*See my recent Fuji FinePix XF1 review.

Since it’s unlikely that I’ll ever be approached by a camera maker and offered both a blank sheet of paper and some deep funds, we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got. And in the marketing-driven world of photographic products, we actually have to go to either extreme of the product spectrum to find what we’re looking for: a camera which has solid, reliable automatic functions, no frills, and the basics like exposure compensation and spot metering. It would be nice to have a range of perspectives easily to hand too, though for novices perhaps it’s safer to go with a fixed lens and forgo the temptation to compose with the zoom. Add a good sensor, speed and responsiveness into the mix, and we’re done. I used to be hung up about having an optical viewfinder for stability and visual nuance, but that’s changed with improvements in stabilisation systems, and even more so with increased LCD resolutions more accurately displaying focus at the sensor plane and the added flexibility to shoot from other vantages where the camera doesn’t have to be at your eye. Depth of field control is a nice to have, but not critical; it’s just another way to isolate your subject – but there are many ways of doing that, and it’s not the most pictorially powerful anyway. Too many people rely on extreme bokeh to make an image that looks different; we don’t need super-fast lenses for common applications anymore now that even small sensors are capable of delivering good results at ISO 1600**. Finally, being a pack mule for your equipment isn’t fun: the less we can get away with carrying, the better.

**In the early days of photography, photographers struggled to get more depth of field rather than less – perhaps it was a case of art imitating life (perception), art (photography) imitating art (painting). Yes, we have that additional tool, but don’t overuse it: there is such a thing as too little depth of field. Note that this is different from good/ bad quality of bokeh; another axis of variables, if you will.

What does this mean in real terms? If you add everything up, for the majority of photographers, we’re looking at a prosumer compact, possibly with a larger sensor, possibly not. These cameras are designed to be automated; the manual controls are just put in mostly to appease the marketers and obsessive photographers who like to twiddle their aperture dials, oblivious of the fact that with a 20mm real focal length, there will be no visible difference in depth of field at f5.6 or f8 with a subject that’s 30m away, or that no matter what focusing mode you use, it’ll still be too slow to track action. I am not saying that all photographers should abandon control; if anything, the opposite. I certainly won’t be replacing my full-frame DSLR and lenses with a compact for client-critical work anytime soon, if ever. What I’m saying is that for casual photography, we should focus on mastering control of the elements that matter, which conveniently are also those that can easily be taken care of even with the most basic of cameras. For most uses, those are limited to a few critical things: light (exposure compensation), composition (perspective, positioning, focus) and subject (timing). The rest are secondary or specialised.

Compacts have some big advantages that often get overlooked:
– They’re small and discrete, easily portable and don’t attract attention;
– They cover focusing errors through extended depth of field;
– They might have limited dynamic range compared to larger sensor cameras, but that can actually be helpful from a pictorial/ artistic point of view by emphasizing contrast and differences in light;
– You can carry a lot of perspectives in a small size, without too many optical compromises – 28-200 isn’t unheard of, and I believe there’s a Canon that even covers 24-1200m (!!);
– They focus close, once again allowing perspectives that might not otherwise be possible;
– Extended depth of field + unusual perspectives = compositions not easily achievable with a larger sensored camera, e.g. highly compressed images with everything in focus
– They’re very easily positionable; lenses can be poked through holes in fences or walls, held high or low etc. – especially the swivel screen models
– Sensor and stabilizer technology has come a long way. With the D800E, I might need ISO 6400 to shoot at f8, 35mm and get enough shutter speed to handhold without shake; even with VR. Let’s assume the stabilizer advantage evens out. I could shoot at 17mm and f4 on the OM-D and have the same perspective and DOF, but I’d be using ISO 1600 for the same shutter speed; on say the Panasonic LX7, I could be at a larger aperture than f2 (unfortunately there isn’t one at this focal length) and two stops better again, at ISO 400. We’re looking at some form of equivalence here: sure, the D800E image will have more detail, but that won’t really come through in typical print or display sizes for the majority of photographers***. Perceptually, they’d look pretty similar at a 12×18″/ A3 print; I’d much rather carry the LX7, thanks.
– AF speed has come a long way – for static subjects, we’ve pretty much got as much speed as we need. For moving ones, until we get phase detection sites onto our compact sensors, they’re all equally useless and you’re going to have to find a DSLR.
– Buffer and usability isn’t really an issue anymore; it hasn’t been for compacts since about 2009. My Sony RX100 will shoot 20MP, 14-bit RAW + JPEG fine images at 10fps for 10 frames.
– Price: even the best of the compacts will cost significantly less than a midrange DSLR or mirrorless camera and a decent zoom. Again taking the example of the Sony RX100 – we’re looking at about US$700 +/-, which compares very favorably to even a Nikon D3200 and AFS 16-85/3.5-5.6 VR at approximately US$1,200 – and that doesn’t even come close to the Sony’s f1.8 wide end. And if you get bored of it, it’s not going to cost too much to trade it in for the latest and greatest. (New cameras can be a source of inspiration in themselves, but that’s another topic for another article.)

You’ll note that I’ve excluded Micro Four Thirds and the other CSCs from this list, mainly because there are compact and good all-in-one lens solutions that make the cameras pocketable. If you don’t mind a bit more bulk and a prime lens, then these are great options too – for not much more size, you get a lot more image quality. But there’s no way you’re going to put even an E-PM2 and the smallest 14/2.5 prime lens into your pocket without risking arrest on public decency laws.

***We’re talking sufficiency here, not ultimate image quality.

Let’s boil this down a bit further: what do we really need in a compact?
– Responsiveness: everything from AF speed to menu operation and navigability, shot-to-shot speed, image review etc. Speed is the priority;
– Fast AF. I can’t emphasize this one enough;
– A fast lens: it’s much easier to make fast, decent zooms that cover a smaller image circle than a larger one; f2 or better on the wide end, and ideally something fairly close on the long end (though that will tend to be compromised as the lens’ reach increases);
– A decent range of perspectives: wide/moderate wide to moderate telephoto; enough to get a clear difference in perspective. Personally, 28-85 is fine for me, though I don’t have any complaints about a bit wider or a bit longer; compact sensors tend to be 4:3 rather than 3:2, and since the focal length posted follows the diagonal of the sensor, you’re going to need a bit more width to get the same horizontal field of view;
– A good LCD. Forget the optical finder, it’s going to be a tiny tunnel. I’d rather have a nice, bright, sharp 3″+ LCD. Bonus points for something with an antireflective coating that’s also visible in daylight, and a tilt/ swivel screen;
– RAW support, or outstanding JPEGs;
– A good image stabilisation system;
– Easily accessed exposure compensation, preferably on a separate dial;
– A sensible auto-ISO mode, ideally allowing setting of minimum shutter speed, if not linked to the focal length used;
– A solid meter, or spot metering, or preferably both;
– Fast image review, with a quick way to check critical focus;
– Finally, tactility matters. Something that feels nice to use will simply be used more often; it’s in the quality of the materials, the feel of the controls/ switches/ buttons/ knobs/ dials; the grippiness of the rubber; the solidity of the build.

In part two, we’ll consider the current candidates and field a bit of a compact camera masterclass.

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Understanding autofocus, and tips for all cameras

December 13, 2012 by Ming Thein

Levitation (and prefocus). Nikon D700, 85/1.4 G

A side effect of the ever-increasing resolution of today’s cameras is that autofocus must necessarily get more precise, too. The Nikon D800/ D800E issues have shown that even a small misalignment or miscalibration in the focusing system can basically cripple the camera into resolving at a far lower level of performance than it would be capable of under ideal circumstances. Short of using manual focus and magnified live view for everything – I would still recommend doing this for critical work, and I do it when working under any controlled lighting situation since I’m more likely to have the time and be using a tripod – it is therefore highly beneficial to pay closer attention to exactly what is going on when the camera acquires focus.

A situation where fast, reactive autofocus can help. Nikon D700, 300/4 D

For DSLRs, SLTs and some mirrorless cameras (the Nikon 1s and Sony NEX-5R and NEX-6), a phase detection system is used. This involves taking some of the light from the subject area, passing it through a beamsplitter and comparing the difference in phase of the output; a CCD is used to measure light intensity as a function of position, and the lens is moved until light from both arms of the beamsplitter is coincident upon a single point. This entire module constitutes the AF sensor array that’s either located at the bottom of the mirror box (DSLRs) or embedded in certain specific photosite locations (mirrorless cameras). If you select a specific AF point, then the camera uses only the sensors corresponding to the location of that point; if you let the camera pick, it will usually sample all points to find which is the closest subject covered by the AF sensor array, and focus on that.

En masse. Nikon D3, 70-300VR

Phase detect autofocus is fast and generally does not require racking the lens back and forth – otherwise known as ‘hunting’ – because the sensor is able to tell whether the light is positively or negatively out of phase, and thus in which direction to move the lens in order to correct this and bring the light coincident, thus achieving focusing. The precision of focus depends on several factors: firstly, the resolution of the AF sensor; secondly, the alignment of all secondary optics involved in transferring the light to the AF sensor – specifically, the main and submirror assemblies; any microlenses involved; thirdly, the alignment of the AF and imaging sensors (both must be perfectly perpendicular to the lens mount); fourthly, any calibration data the system requires to establish a perfect zero or null position; and finally, the ability of the lens’ focusing groups to move precisely in small increments that maintain perfect alignment with the optical axis.

Turning on the inside. Nikon D800E, 28-300VR

Focusing with wide angle lenses is generally less precise with this method because the differences in phase are a lot less; to complicate things, the lens itself may have optical limitations in its design, introducing field curvature, coma etc – all of which can send potentially misleading data to the AF sensor, resulting in incorrect focus. It also doesn’t help that subjects tend to be a lot smaller, and not filling the AF boxes completely. (It’s also worth noting at this point that the AF boxes themselves are an indication of where the sensor grid lies, but there’s no documentation covering precisely where the active areas are located. For greater precision, perhaps the sensors should be crosses instead of boxes.)

Precisely a fast as a speeding bullet. Nikon D3, 24-70

For moving subjects, phase detect systems either continuously change the focus distance, depending on the instantaneous phase information received at the AF sensor, or alternatively employ a predictive algorithm and multiple focusing points in order to track the subject. The most sophisticated systems also employ information from the metering sensor in order to track the subject by color. None of these systems are infallible, and can be fooled by objects of a similar color or larger size coming between the camera and subject – for instance if your subject happens to duck behind something. Although the level of processing power and sophistication of these systems has significantly increased over the past years; I have yet to see any autofocus system that can 100% reliably track an erratically moving subject – especially if it leaves the area of the frame covered by the autofocus sensor array.

Cyclist, Nepal. Nikon D700, 24/1.4

I’m sure you can now see why the challenge of achieving perfect focus gets more and more difficult as sensor resolution increases: if any one of these is out of tolerance by a very small margin, you’re not going to have a sharp image.

Most mirrorless/ CSC cameras, compact fixed-lens cameras and DSLRs in live view all use a much simpler method of focusing – contrast detection. This involves moving the focus point of the lens back and forth to test which direction delivers the highest contrast. The camera will then iterate this process until highest contrast is achieved; although hunting has been minimized with the new generation of contrast detect cameras; it is still necessary to rack focus back and forth simply because there is no way for the camera to know which direction in which to move the lens. Because of this contrast detect autofocus will always be slower than well-implemented phase detect autofocus, with all other things being equal. However, it will also be more accurate simply because the imaging sensor is used to determine the point of optimal focus, and there are far fewer potential issues with tolerances and alignment of components.

Point of view. Canon IXUS 100 IS

It is also worth noting that the size of the sensor actually plays an important part in determining just how fast contrast-detect autofocus systems can be; this is because larger sensors have shallower depth of field for a given field of view and aperture, requiring more movement of the focusing groups within the lens in order to determine where the point of highest contrast (and correct focus distance) lies. This is especially noticeable when comparing a compact camera to a DSLR; compounding this is the fact that small sensor cameras require much shorter real focal lengths to achieve the same angle of view; this results in extended depth of field for a given angle of view, requiring less focus precision because any potential errors can be covered up by increased depth of field. The slow focusing of DSLRs in live view mode is not due to the lens’ focusing motor speed; the same combination often is capable of delivering blazingly fast results when used with the regular phase-detect system.

The instant of terror when you’re base jumping and not sure if your chute is going to open or not. Nikon D200, AI 500/4 P

There’s one added method that used to be common in older cameras, but is now only to be found on some of the Ricoh compacts: active phase detect. This uses an infrared beam to light the subject, and the reflected light is measured by two phase detection sensors on the front of the camera to assist the contrast detect system. It can greatly speed things up, but range is limited because it requires active illumination from the camera – and the power of these secondary lights is always limited.

Now that you have some understanding of how autofocus systems work, let’s talk about some tips to maximize the accuracy and speed of your camera.

Through the flood. Nikon D80, 17-55/2.8

All cameras

Don’t let the camera pick the focus point for you. Unless you are shooting and erratically moving subject which you cannot follow manually selecting the focus point; always shoot in single point mode and pick your focus point carefully to be over your subject. Many cameras also weight the metering in favor of the focus point; it is therefore important to ensure that it corresponds with your subject – it is almost always what you would want to have correctly metered anyway.
Make sure your subject is larger than your focus point. If it isn’t; you need to either move closer (this also becomes a compositional issue) or focus on something at the same distance which presents a larger target.

Phase-detect cameras (DSLRs, Sony NEX-5R, NEX-6, Nikon 1)

The camera will always focus on the closest object underneath the focusing point. It may sometimes be fooled by a higher contrast structure – for example, a barcode instead of a blank piece of paper immediately behind it – but in general it will pick the closest subject providing it completely covers the focusing point.
High-contrast subjects (again, like barcodes) make ideal autofocus targets. It is also worth noting that some autofocus points are sensitive to detail in one direction only; i.e. horizontally or vertically, and not both directions. (Cross type points are sensitive to detail in both directions; but these are generally only found at the center point, or distributed around the AF-sensor arry only on high end cameras.) It is therefore important to find a suitable target for your camera – a QR code rather than a barcode, I suppose.
Use continuous autofocus, unless you are shooting a static object with the camera on a tripod. This is because any small motion of either you or the subject can be enough to move the plane of focus away from the intended point; this is especially critical with fast, shallow depth of field lenses. With continuous autofocus, the camera is always focusing right up to the point of image capture. The one exception to this, is slow, or wide angle lenses. Smaller format cameras are a bit less sensitive to this issue because they have more depth of field for a given angle of view, which tends to compensate for any errors in the focusing system.
Try to avoid focusing at the center and recomposing your image where possible, because there are potential issues with field curvature – especially at the edges and corners of wide angle lenses. Use the autofocus point that is either directly over your subject or closest to it in order to minimize any potential issues with the lens’ design.
Assign a button to locking focus (AF-L) to use in conjunction with continuous autofocus; this saves you having to switch to single autofocus with static subjects. Alternatively, decouple focusing from the shutter button by assigning an AF-ON button that activates focusing when pressed; I don’t use this method as it requires you to press two buttons to shoot; I prefer to minimize the number of controls that must be attended to especially in fast-moving situations.

Panning in the rain. Apple iPhone 4.

Contrast detect systems (DSLRs in live view, compacts, CSCs, mirrorless cameras)

Once again, do not let the camera pick the focus point for you; select it yourself. If anything, cameras that use contrast detect systems tend to be far more flexible in where you can put your focusing point; this is because they use the entire area of the imaging sensor.
Avoid continuous autofocus. This seems counterintuitive in light of my advice for phase detect cameras, however this is because continuous autofocus on a contrast detect system is constantly hunting back and forth around the point where expects to subject to be; imagine a car trying to follow a curve that the driver can’t see until it’s almost immediately in front of him – the path (here, the focusing distance) will be erratic and not match the curve exactly. This tends to result in a very low hit rate. It also helps that contrast detect cameras tend to either have an alternate system to deal with moving objects (in the case of DSLRs); or employ much smaller sensors that are very forgiving of minor focusing errors or changes in subject position due to their extended depth of field.
If you have to use continuous autofocus because your subject is moving; there are two other alternatives. The first option is to set your camera to maximum contrast (for obvious reasons) – the live view image is usually a preview of your current camera settings and will match the JPEG output. If you’re shooting raw; your file will not be affected by in camera processing. The second option is an old trick using the days of manual focus photography; it’s called ‘trap focusing’. First, decide on your composition and where your subject must go in order to complete it; ensure your shutter speed is high enough to prevent motion blur of the subject; finally, choose single autofocus and prefocus the camera at that position, releasing the shutter when the subject is in the intended position. One added advantage of this technique – especially for compact cameras – is that it significantly reduces the shutter lag to the point where it is very easy to release the camera at the precise moment you intend. Note that if you cannot get a high enough shutter speed; then you will need to pan through with the subject in order to only blur the background out and keep the subject sharp; this is a combination of panning and trap focusing techniques and works best when the subject is moving across your field of view; it is pretty useless if the subject is coming towards you.
Some cameras have a continuous pre-focus or full-time autofocus option that is always adjusting the lens based on whatever subject happens to be under the focusing point at the time. This is generally a good option if you absolutely must reduce shutter lag and are unable to pre-focus. However, note that the system can also be fooled, most notably by moving the camera around rapidly – especially if you are not pointing it at anything in particular. It is also an enormous drain on (usually already short) battery life because the lens’ focusing groups are constantly in motion so long as the camera is switched on.

It is worth practicing all of these techniques until they become second nature; you’ll be surprised by both the increase in your keeper rate, as well as the improvement in acuity and sharpness at the individual pixel level. It is just one of the many elements of shot discipline; which is critical in achieving the highest possible image quality from your camera. You’ll also be surprised at just how much more responsive your camera has seemingly become. MT

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Filed Under: Articles, On Photography Tagged With: article, autofocus, autofocus tips, how to, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, photography, thein

Less is more

December 9, 2012 by Ming Thein

Too many options can be a confusing thing. Leica M8, 21/1.4

This article started out as an exploration of the liberating experience when shooting with the compact point-and-shoot camera. It then morphed into a small dissertation upon the use of the Sony RX100 is a street and travel camera; in the end I landed up rewriting the whole thing because I think there is a larger topic at hand here which is probably of more use to the photographer at large.

In previous articles, I have dealt with subjects such as using just one lens for a trip and shooting with compact cameras professionally. The August competition was the compact challenge which required participants to shoot solely with a fixed-lens, small-sensor point-and-shoot camera. I have also talked about points of sufficiency, and knowing precisely how much resolution or how much told you need for the job at hand. What I want to cover in today’s article, is something a concept spanning all of these subjects, and perhaps a little bit more.

Ninja coffee. Leica M8, 21/1.4

Let’s throw the entire photographic rulebook and all of its associated dogma out of the window for moment. What really matters when you’re making an image? (I recently dealt with this too in a two-part article here, and here on what makes an outstanding image.) What is it that you audience sees when they look at your photograph? It certainly isn’t the camera, in so far as in that it created the image and the lens and format used enforce both perspective and depth of field properties; going beyond that, the View of a photograph sees light first. In fact, that’s pre-much all they see because without light of some sort, it is impossible to make a any photograph. Thus, the sole function of the camera is reduced to a light capturing, measuring and visualization device. Beyond this, it is all fluff and gravy.

Color coordinated car. Leica M8, Zeiss ZM 2.8/21

Suppose for a minute that a photographer has no preference for any particular focal length, is able to see compositions everywhere they go, and utilize perspectives correctly. In short, they could use any camera and any lens/ field of view combination and still produce strong compositions. Let us continue to assume, that the same photographer also has the ability to recognize interesting light. He or she should also have some modicum of technical capability – perhaps the minimum required to understand the basics of exposure and mechanics of taking a photograph. Last, but not least, they should also be able to recognize interesting subjects. In short: we want a photographer who knows how to see, aim the camera, and press a button.

I don’t think this is a very difficult set of criteria to fill; I’m sure there are many, many people out there who would have no problems in meeting the brief. Now, notice how much the camera has been decoupled from this entire process; in fact, not just decoupled, but completely relegated to being almost unimportant. Photography is about writing like to create images. If the mind of the author is clear, and his command of the language strong, then the type pen and paper employed simply do not matter.

Perfect spacing. Leica M8, 50/1.4 ASPH

In practical terms, what does this actually mean for photographers? Once a photographer has mastered the use of light, composition and perspective, identifying subjects, and I suppose the degree of postprocessing, it means that they are able to create magnificent images regardless of the equipment to hand. I remember personally going through this moment of liberation – a kind of ‘eureka!’ – after which I realized the camera really does not matter; any focal length or format is fair game. Light and composition take center stage, and all else is secondary.

Many of you have probably noticed a high level of consistency in the look and feel of the images I present on the site, regardless of whatever camera was used to capture them. I have actually been criticized for this in the past, with the prosecution claiming that I do not allow the natural qualities of the camera/ lens I am using or testing to shine through in the final image. I beg to differ; I believe that the ability to produce exactly what you envisioned in your mind at the time of pressing the shutter button means that your artistic vision is not compromised or tempered by the equipment. This is not to say that you may not choose to use a particular piece of equipment because of its artistic qualities; however, one needs to know exactly what these qualities are, and how their use affects the final pictorial impression of the final image.

Questions or directives? Leica M8, 21/1.4 ASPH

I think this liberation came about for me around the end of 2008, or perhaps early 2009. I was shooting with a Nikon D3 at the time in Japan; I carried lenses providing continuous coverage from 14 to 300 mm. Needless to say, this was an extremely heavy way to travel. By the end of the trip, I was leaving everything except my 24-70 zoom in the hotel room and just walking around with one camera and one lens. After a couple of hours, I realized that rather than seeing compositions which I was unable to execute because I wasn’t carrying the right lenses, I was now seeing only the ones I could; a little while after that, I was seeing potential shots everywhere I went.

The second phase came later in 2009. I spent a couple of weeks with the Leica M8.2 whilst writing a review for the magazine I served as editor of at the time; I was only given one lens – a 35/2 (45mm due to the M8’s crop factor). Being completely unfamiliar with the operation of a rangefinder; I stuck to that one lens just to try to familiarize myself with that way of working and seeing. Guess what: I liked it so much, and found the small size and unintimidating nature the camera so liberating, but I landed up selling my D3, and most of my Nikon lenses in order to fund the exact same combination for my personal use. I was never able to afford more than one or two lenses at any given time, given the price of Leica glass, and my humble occupation at the time.

Looking for company. Leica M8, Zeiss ZM 2.1/28

This austerity by necessity actually forced me to focus on improving the quality of my images through the strength of the compositions; more importantly, I learned the skill of previsualization of both composition and perspective even before bringing the camera to my eye. The were occasions, for instance social gatherings, where I felt the need for a smaller one nondescript camera. I landed up purchasing the smallest Canon point-and-shoot I could find. That IXUS SD780IS landed up following me everywhere, riding shotgun in a pocket – simply because it was so small and unobtrusive. However, I don’t think it was the camera or its size that did this; rather it was me applying the previsualization techniques learned with the Leica M8 to the smaller format. I was getting images I liked, and which were compositionally strong – regardless of the format or type of camera. For the first time in my work, the camera became transparent.

Now, rather than buying something because the spec sheet looked good, or because it came with bragging rights, I bought equipment because it allowed me to achieve the specific look or feel I desired. Coupled with my postprocessing experience, I now felt completely in control of my images; I could create and share exactly what I saw in my mind’s eye.

Rushing for the train. Canon IXUS 100 IS

Let’s take a step back and deconstruct my experiences along the road to compositional liberation into something which any photographer might find useful and actionable:

1. You have to begin with a reasonable degree of understanding of the technical skills for both capture and post processing. However, remember that these are merely tools, not an end in themselves.

2. Force yourself to shoot for an extended period of time with what you would perceive to be a limited set of equipment. This may be one zoom, or one prime; the point is that it conditions your mind into recognizing what you can capture and ignoring all of the things that you can’t.

The ladder. Canon IXUS 100 IS

3. The ultimate distillation of this is using prime lenses, shooting a good number of frames with each. By using nothing except a single perspective on extended basis, your mind is trained to pre-visualize the angle of view before you look through the viewfinder. You know when you have mastered a particular focal length or field of view when you start seeing compositions everywhere, and you can execute these with the proper perspective and relative prominence of foreground and background. It’s even better if you can do this with the lens stopped down; by eliminating shallow depth of field as a compositional crutch, you are forced to fully think about and utilize all of the space in your frame. You cannot simply fill it with a merely pleasant-looking but non-contextual wall of blur. This of course leads to developing full control of composition, even in the out of focus areas of your frame.

Canterbury Cathedral. Canon IXUS 100 IS

If you are able to shoot with a compact camera or perhaps a camera phone, and achieve the exact composition you intended, you have come full circle. Image quality, is of course the subject of a completely different discussion. Although many photographers believe that they could manage with much less equipment, or much simpler equipment than they currently have, almost none of them put it into practice. Even I find it difficult to select which get bring on a trip; I am sometimes drawn into the trap of bringing something ‘just in case’ rather than picking a practical selection and concentrating on working with it. It requires a strong and conscious effort to avoid this. (Once again, if I am on assignment then I have the opposite philosophy; this is because you have to be prepared for contingencies, and failure to plan and deliver because of oversight is simply unprofessional.)

A little urban abstract. Sony RX100

Unfortunately, the fastest – and perhaps only – way to truly experience this liberation, is to go through the process. (If any of you have managed by other means, I would love to hear from you in the comments.) But I think it is important to at least try it if you’re serious about taking a photography to the next level; in my article on the stages of evolution of a photographer, you’ll remember that the most difficult thing to achieve is the ability to visualize your image first, and then execute it as intended. Strength of the idea and how obvious it is to your audience is paramount. MT

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Service. Sony RX100

Filed Under: Articles, On Photography Tagged With: article, compact, compact camera, essay, less is more, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, minimalism, opinion, photography, thein

Objectively critiquing images: a primer

December 5, 2012 by Ming Thein

The ephermeral idea of sushi. Does this image work? Why? Why not? Read on to understand and come to your own conclusions – leave your thoughts in the comments, and let’s start a discussion. For the original essay featuring this image, click here: Sushi, and the philosophy of photography

A reader sent me a great email a couple of weeks back with some suggestions on how to improve the reader Flickr group.

Since inception, it now has 400+ members, tens of thousands of submissions, about 2,500 that have made the cut – and continues to grow every day. Whilst you do get some indication of what constitutes a good image and what doesn’t based on my acceptances and rejections, it doesn’t really provide a structure for objective critiques and feedback from a wide audience – something I’d always wanted to have. Unfortunately, the infrastructure of Flickr isn’t that conducive to this – there’s no real way to tell which comments were left by a member of a particular group without having badges etc. What I propose instead is that anybody who wants to solicit feedback on an image posts it in a new thread on the attached discussion board; if you’d like to weigh in, go ahead – but remember to be objective and civil. (If the volumes get silly, then we’ll deal with it later.)

This brings me to the second problem: what is objective? How does one deliver an objective critique? Hell, what do you even look for in the first place? How do you set a benchmark and what do you compare it to? The aim of this article is to cover these bases, and provide both a structured simplified assessment/ critique framework. Its usefulness of course goes beyond the Flickr pool comments: it’s also a quick way for you to assess your own images on the fly. (The challenge there is of course stepping out away from the personal attachment that every photographer has to their photos – they’re like our children – and learning the art of detachment.)

First up, if you haven’t already read my article on What Makes An Outstanding Image, I highly recommend you do so first and then come back here afterwards. Part one is here, and part two is here. (Both open as links in new windows.)

Boiling everything down, there are only four things I look for in every image. The first three are fundamentals. The last one is a bonus. (In fact, I’ve said these things so many times at so many events and workshops that I wouldn’t be surprised if somebody decides to engrave them on my tombstone.)

1. Light
Every photograph needs light; no light, no photograph. Fantastic light can transform the most pedestrian subjects, and vice versa. I’m looking for light that isolates the subject, that shows off its textures and physical form and lines in a (preferably) unique way; a color temperature that’s either perfectly natural and accurate and puts you into the scene, or a color temperature that’s artfully shifted to elicit an emotional response in the viewer in a cinematic sense. The subject doesn’t have to be the brightest thing in the frame, but it has to be the most obvious.

2. Subject
Subsequent items get more nebulous and harder to define. In short, the subject is what the image is about. It can be a small part of the frame, or the entire frame itself; it can also be the idea. Basically: a viewer should be able to look at the image and know straight away what the focus is; who is the protagonist in the story? Timing is also a key element that affects both subject and composition – both positioning and expression. Abstracts are a little more difficult to assess, because they may not have a focus per se. In such cases, is the frame sufficiently well abstracted that you lose the sense of relativity and scale that provides the normal visual cues for identification of an object?

3. Composition
I like to think of composition as the way in which the elements within a frame relate to each other. It’s to do with positioning, balance and context; are the secondary subject positioned in such a way as to give priority to and not take away focus from the primary subject? Next, do the secondary subjects enhance the story, or take away from it? How are they relevant to the main subject? Would the image be stronger with or without them in the frame? Are any of them distracting? Next is balance; this is even tougher to define and probably should be the subject of an entire article in itself. In short, it isn’t symmetry, but it is about geometry. Are there things that make one side of the frame look heavier than the other? It isn’t a problem, but something that draws the eye in a particular direction – leading lines, for example – should do so in a way that supports the primary subject. Natural frames can also be used to help isolate the primary subject. You’ve also got to look for things that are distracting and not meant to be in the composition – edge and border intrusions are perhaps the most common example of this.

4. Bonus: the idea.
This is the hardest to define of them all. In its most concise form, does the viewer share the vision the photographer had in mind when he or she pressed the shutter? Note: it’s tough to communicate an idea if there wasn’t one to begin with, or it wasn’t well-formed in the photographer’s own mind. In fact, this is perhaps the toughest part in making a good photograph: you need to know what the final image should look like even before you take the shot. The best photographers do this consciously all the time; I know that if I can’t get what I want, I usually won’t bother taking out the camera. A lot of the time it’s because I don’t have control over the light, or because it’s not being cooperative; sometimes it’s because of technical limitations – I physically can’t get close enough, or I’m not carrying the right lenses to get the perspective I want, for instance.

On this basis, an image that scores a 2 is reasonably strong, but maybe lacking in one or two areas. Grade 3 images are excellent, and grade 4s are outstanding. Of course, there’s more to it than that, but at least you could say something along the lines of ‘3, composition is a bit loose around the edges of the frame’ and that would be implicit that the rest of the aspects of the photograph are strong. In the reader Flickr pool, I don’t admit anything less than a 2.5, or a 2 if the idea is very strong. There are a good number of 3s, but very few 4s. It might be an interesting exercise for you to go through the pool of images again to see what qualifies.

Of course, this is all relative; and that’s why it’s important to view and consciously assess as many images as possible to get an idea of what works and what doesn’t; that was one of the reasons to set up the flickr pool. There’s a lot to be learned from looking carefully at famous images: there’s a reason why they work, even if some aspects of the capture may be weak. And it’s almost always because ‘the idea’ is extremely strong, to the point of overshadowing and dominating the any potential shortcomings. (Robert Capa’s Normandy Landing series is a fantastic example of this).

Here’s the proposal – if you’re going to start a thread in the Flickr group putting your image up for critique, then give it a number (rating) – objectively, of course – and talk about what you think is missing, or what you think is exceptionally strong. That provides a good basis to begin discussion.

Even if you don’t put your images up for critique, keeping this framework in mind when viewing and assessing your own images can help immensely: you will land up with a much stronger raw material, and more times to postprocess them – which of course in turn results in an even stronger final set of images. Iterating this process has two positive consequences: firstly, you land up making ever stronger images, and not being tempted into keeping ‘not bad’ images; secondly, you will find you have a heightened cognisance of your own artistic style. This is of course a good thing – and one that’s extremely difficult to achieve. In the end, the greeks had it right: know thyself. MT

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Filed Under: Articles, On Photography Tagged With: article, assessing images, being objective, critiques, critiquing images, essay, feedback, how to, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, opinion, photography, thein

Photoessay: Tokyo nights

November 30, 2012 by Ming Thein

I love shooting at night in Japan for many reasons – firstly, the city never sleeps so there’s always something interesting to photograph; secondly, the quality and layout of the light itself is interesting – their designers obviously pay a lot of attention to this; finally, it’s easy to achieve high image quality. There’s simply so much light it’s rarely necessary to venture into the higher ISO regions, so you can actually get some tonally very rich images covering a large dynamic range with little noise and reasonable shutter speeds. It was better in the pre-Fukushima days when electricity was abundant in Japan; I remember being surprised that in late 2008 I could seriously shoot ISO 200 at night, handheld.

Needless to say, on my last trip, I did plenty of roaming the streets after dark. Here is a collection of my favourite images in that theme. Enjoy! MT

This set was shot with an Olympus OM-D with the 12/2 and 45/1.8 lenses, and a Sony RX100.

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Experience log: the Hasselblad H4D-40 and medium format

November 25, 2012 by Ming Thein

I shot almost only Leica M and a couple of lenses for the majority of 2009/10; it completely changed the way I approached photography. I no longer focused on getting everything – every nuance, every detail, every highlight, every shadow – instead, the limitations of the camera forcing me to focus on the moment and the subject, making them strong enough and isolated enough that the edges and everything else in the exposure were clearly of secondary importance. Every image I’ve shot thereafter has followed the same principles: the importance of subject and quality of light on the subject have become indelibly ingrained onto my visual cortex.

Night in the city. H4D-40, 80/2.8

The second shift came when I focused on both accuracy of color and its use to consciously influence perceptual impressions in the viewer of an image as part of my experiments into the cinematic style of reportage; this added another tool to my repertoire. A third, less major, shift came after the Nikon D800E forced me to shoot mostly tripod based: I would shoot with precision, with more depth of field, and even more care over lighting; control was – and is – now the aim of the game. It’s had two effects for me: I shoot less with available light, and more with constructed light; also, I’m now working slower and frequently with a tripod. It means I shoot street very differently; it’s now about people, situations and context – almost abstracted people – and less of the ‘stolen moment’ type of photography I used to practice.

Decay. H4D-40, 80/2.8

Part of the reason for this is my shifted focus towards commercial work, part of the reason is because I’ve come close to exhausting the possible available-light street/ reportage locations available to me locally. I’m hoped that by changing the way I work again, I’d once again challenge myself to add a new skill to my repertoire, and thus up my game a notch. In hindsight, the problem was that the medium format options were either too similar or too vastly different to the way I was (and am) currently working with the D800E.

I had two options: buy a V-series 500CM or 503CW, and shoot film; there was also an ex-demo CFV-39 back available to purchase, which would give me a long term digital solution if I decided it fit me. The second option was a second-hand H4D-40. Both would represent a significant investment even before counting lenses, and thus I managed to arrange an extended test drive with the local Hasselblad distributor, Shriro – for which I am extremely grateful. I want to say upfront that it was not the quest for more pixels or image quality that led me to consider medium format; if anything, my clients have been extremely happy with the quality of the files from my D800E. Anything over that would be a bonus (or a curse for some, who are already struggling in handling the enormous 36MP 16-bit TIFF files the camera produces). Rather, I was looking for something that would force me to change the way I saw the world through forcing me to change the way I worked.

Stalls. H4D-40, 80/2.8

From the get-go, the 503CW and CFV-39 were just too different. It wasn’t the waist-level finder (though it did make it very difficult to see the frame and focus under bright situations); it wasn’t the reversed directions (the V series Hasselblad waist-level finders do not invert and correct the image like a normal SLR finder). It wasn’t the manual focusing, or the need to wind the camera to re-cock the shutter between each shot, or the shutter speeds being on the lens (leaf shutter). It wasn’t the square format. Of all things – and this might seem odd when you remember that I’m an experienced rangefinder user – it was the assortment of crop lines overlaid on top of the focusing screen. The whole screen showed the 6×6 film negative. The first set of lines showed the entire capture area of the sensor – ostensibly a 1.1x crop horizontally, but rather more vertically – and a second set showed a square crop of the sensor, which gave something along the lines of a 37x37mm sensor.

Overpass. H4D-40, 80/2.8

Ostensibly, if one used the CFV-39 as a square sensor, the way that camera was intended to be shot, you’d be looking at a 1.6 linear crop, and a sensor that was about 50% larger than the 35mm full frame. (Note that cropped square, a FX frame becomes 24x24mm, and about 40% of the area of the medium format-square sensor.) I think somewhere between the combination of the multiple crop lines, the left-right inversion and everything else that was different, my brain shut down. I just couldn’t see anything other than what should have fit into the square 6×6 frame; digital on the V series was simply not an option for me, and it wouldn’t make sense to buy one solely for use with film especially since the H series can take both film and digital backs.

Experimenting with 2.4:1 widescreen on the street, I. H4D-40, 80/2.8

That left behind the H4D. Available in multiple flavors, the 40 made the most sense to me – it balanced price, specification and resolution. And it was available second-hand, which brought the price to the same ballpark as the CFV-39 and V-seriesd combination. The 40MP, 44x33mm sensor has a crop factor of about 1.36x, giving it a little under twice the image area of a full frame DSLR, and a tiny bit more area than the Leica S2’s 45x30mm sensor. Here, we have an interesting three-way comparison on our hands: the Nikon D800E, with a 36x24mm sensor and 36MP; the Leica S2, with 45x30mm and 37MP; and finally, the Hasselblad H4D-40 with 44x33mm and 40MP. From a raw sensor resolution perspective, near enough as makes no difference. The lenses would of course be another story entirely.

Experimenting with 2.4:1 widescreen on the street, II. H4D-40, 80/2.8

I’ve used the Leica S2 in the past, and found that it handled very well indeed for a medium format camera – in fact, it handled very much like my D800E, with the exception of being a bit larger and heavier, and having an enormously better viewfinder and somewhat simplified control system. In practice though, I didn’t treat it any differently from the D800E except that it had a single center focusing point – necessitating a lot of focus-and-shift-to-recompose. Focusing was fast enough that you could still use it as a street camera in much the same fashion as a regular DSLR. The H4D-40 was a bit different, though: firstly, though it has both autofocus and a gyroscope-adjusted True Focus system (the camera uses the gyro to determine how much it was moved by, then adjust focus by an appropriate amount accordingly depending on the lens) it was a much, much slower camera to focus than either the S2 or D800E. In fact, it was so slow that you couldn’t really do any spontaneous shooting with it; prefocus was the best way to go. Part of the problem is that it wouldn’t always lock on to your intended subject, and there was no real consistency to this – there were times whens it would find focus just fine on a low contrast subject you’d expect to cause a miss, and other times when it wouldn’t lock on to something with high contrast. In that respect, it reminded me a lot of the Fuji X100 running first-generation firmware – and what made me dump that camera was the overall lack of responsiveness.

Steamed tree. H4D-40, 80/2.8

So, the idea of using the H4D-40 as an available-light documentary camera – the majority of my personal work – was already severely handicapped from the beginning. Add to that a maximum lens speed of f2.2 (with the HC 2.2/100) and sensitivity limit of ISO 1600, and you’re going to run into trouble early with handholding and camera shake. Fortunately, it was possible to program mirror lockup onto one of the function buttons; a quick one-two to prefire the mirror then release the leaf shutter with the main shutter release solved the shake problem. In fact, the leaf shutter is so low-vibration that I found myself able to get critically sharp images handheld down to 1/50s with the standard 80mm lens.* It’s a shame that a similar system isn’t used in DSLRs; I suppose it’s understandable when the speed limits for a leaf shutter are both relatively low, and made lower as the distance it has to traverse increases – the leaf shutter is probably going to be at a huge disadvantage compared to a focal plane shutter for very fast lenses like an 85/1.4.

Building canyon shadows. H4D-40, 80/2.8

*If you fire the mirror at the same time, 1/2x focal length is about the bare minimum required for a 50% hit rate for pixel-level sharpness – similar to the D800E. I am now of the opinion that the minimum shutter speed required to handhold and achieve critical sharpness at 100% magnification is now dependent solely on the pixel density per angle of view, and independent of format and sensor size. The only thing that changes this equation is the presence or absence of image stabilisation systems. It appears that for up to about 20MP or so, 1/focal length is acceptable most of the time; anything above this requires 1/2x or even 1/3x. With non-stabilized lenses, the D800E, S2 and H4D-40 were all happiest at 1/3x and above; 1/2x still yielded visible shake on a fairly regular basis.

Building reflections. H4D-40, 80/2.8

From a shooting experience point of view, it felt like an early-generation digital: nail the exposure and focus, and the results were surprising; you had to be patient, above all things, and finally, if you got it wrong, no amount of Photoshop was going to save the day; processing latitude – especially shadow recovery – was very low. It was slow, clunky, bulky, and a bit on the kludgy side with the UI (though I understand that many aspects have been improved substantially with the H5D series). That said, the H4D-40 had a number of big advantages in its favour.

The cloud. H4D-40, 80/2.8

Firstly, the viewfinder was absolutely fantastic. It’s bright and sharp, the focusing screen is snappy – making it easy to determine which bits of your frame are in focus – and truly enormous. It makes going back to my D800’s finder like the difference between looking out of a cardboard tube and a panoramic floor-to-ceiling window. Secondly, the image quality was bipolar in a good way: images that worked required almost zero work in Photoshop; a quick color adjustment, some very minor curves, and that was it. Native dynamic range was good (though similar to the D800E), with few scenes exhibiting blown highlights. The files are best described as natural; they render with a tonal map that I feel replicates the actual scene very closely, with punch in the midtones and beautiful rolloff in the shadows and highlights.

Nadiah. H4D-40, 80/2.8 at ISO 800

On the high ISO front, compromised dynamic range and quite serious luminance noise started at ISO 800; I’d say at this point the H4D-40 was about a stop behind the D800E. By ISO 1600, two stops. Yet the quality of the noise was remarkably pleasant and almost completely monochromatic; the tight grain reminded me very much of a good roll of black and white film. I wouldn’t hesitate to use the camera at all sensitivities, which is probably a good thing seeing as you’d definitely have to for handheld work.

Urban camo. H4D-40, 80/2.8

Interestingly, the native tonal map means that it seems as though the dynamic range is already optimally allocated; the tonal response of the D800E’s sensor means that details are blocked up in the shadows and some recovery must be done in order to achieve pleasing tonality; similarly, there is more recoverable highlight headroom than with the H4D-40, but in the first place, you do have to recover it. If they were trying to replicate the tonal response of a good negative film, they managed admirably. Needless to say, there is no question over resolution. No medium format backs or cameras have anti-aliasing filters; as a result, the amount of detail captured is spectacular. Subjectively, I’d say the D800E and S2 are very, very close in terms of resolving power; the H4D-40’s files seem to be a slight notch above both, with a noticeable increase in acuity at the pixel level. Dynamic range on all three cameras is very similar, but the two CCD-based medium format cameras produce much more pleasing native tonality. Both of the medium format systems offer consistently better optics across the system than what’s natively available for the D800E, with the exception of the 2.2/100 for the H-system – it’s a portrait lens, and it shows.

Territoriality. H4D-40, 80/2.8

Most importantly though, the H4D-40 did make me shoot differently – slower, with an increased awareness of the quality of light; however, I was mostly drawn towards static subjects; I attempted street photography with it once and gave up; not only was it enormously conspicuous, but it simply wouldn’t focus fast enough – and I lacked the skills to do it manually. The trouble was, the kinds of things I was shooting I could do just fine with any of the cameras I currently owned – even the RX100. And at typical viewing sizes, there would not be any big differences, either. If I was that conscious of light, or constructing my own, then I could easily photograph scenes that fell within the native tonal range of the cameras I did have to hand. Perhaps the bigger problem was that I didn’t really like the kind of images I was producing; they were too static and lifeless; I didn’t really see an evolution path in there, either.

Wondering what happened to the owner of the bike? H4D-40, 80/2.8

Yet in a way, I found the whole experience far too similar to the way I shoot now with the D800E – operation of the camera was very DSLR-like, and I could do exactly the same thing, with almost identical image quality, without having to spend a single cent. Perhaps it might be different if I were to shoot landscapes more often, which would be better suited to a slow, meditative style; the trouble is, there aren’t exactly many such opportunities where I live, and the quality of light in the tropics doesn’t really lend itself to it, either. Unfortunately, after a week with the H4D-40, the only conclusion I can come to is that at this point, medium format is not for me: there is no commercial justification**, it doesn’t advance my personal work, or suit the kinds of subjects I typically encounter. The one thing that did stick in my mind, however, is how little work the files required – it makes me wonder why on earth can’t we get the same tonal quality out of our DSLRs? It certainly isn’t a dynamic range or bit depth limitation; the 16-bit native color on the H4D-40 does render slightly more pleasing colors than the 14-bit D800E, but you had to look for it. I suppose it should theoretically be possible to engineer a default tone curve or series of curves that would at least get the tonal output of the D800E to a similar baseline…food for thought. MT

**A full set of lenses to cover all of my requirements would be prohibitively expensive even after selling all of my current equipment; there would be no wideangle solution to match the Zeiss ZF.2 2.8/21 Distagon, and the maximum macro magnification would be nowhere near what I can easily achieve now with a couple of extension tubes. On top of that, I’d have to use a more powerful set of lights to deal with the smaller apertures I’d have to use to achieve equivalent depth of field on the smaller format, and I’d lose TTL flash metering and remote control. None of my clients need the extra image quality, and certainly wouldn’t pay extra for it.

The Hasselblad H4D-40 is available here from B&H

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Filed Under: Gearhead: Reviews, hasselblad, On Photography Tagged With: experience, geahead, h4d-40, hasselblad, medium format, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, photography, review, thein

Photoessay: Tokyo architecture

November 12, 2012 by Ming Thein

Tokyo must be one of the best places in the world to shoot modern architecture – between the crazy ideas, traditional influences and availability of money to spend on buildings beyond the merely functional. I suppose the incredibly small plot sizes also force architects to make the best use of available space, but at the same time also stand out from their neighbours. One interesting thing I’ve noticed is that all buildings are separated by a small – about 6″ – gap; presumably this has something to do with allowing slip in the event of an earthquake. Still, it does look a little odd at times.

Being personally and professionally interested in architecture, I had a field day walking around the city; a couple were shot with the Olympus OM-D and 12/2 is surprisingly good for this combination, though at times I did wish I had something a little wider – perhaps an equivalent for the Zeiss 2.8/21 Distagon which is my current mainstay for architectural work. The Sony RX100 covered everything else. Enjoy! MT

Slices

Tower

Chaos

Order

Tradition

I always think of this building as a bean in a hurry.

Ginza lamppost

Continuation of sky

Curvature is not an illusion

Facades I

Facades II

Who says windows have to follow floors?

Mirrored shard

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Experiments with street photography and motion

November 9, 2012 by Ming Thein

This series of images was captured around dusk in Shinjuku, Tokyo during my last workshop. While my students were off completing their final assignment, I decided to challenge myself to capture the feel and essence of the place in a different way to what I would have normally done. (After all, it wouldn’t be fair for me to put my students outside their comfort zone by insisting on the importance of having a central idea or theme in their images for their assignment if I couldn’t delivery myself, would it?)

At the same time, I’d felt as though I’d been reaching a little creative stagnation of late, and wanted to force myself to do something different anyway. Having your own style is good, but at the same time, that style has to evolve and grow in order not to get stale or boring. One of the things I’d been doing a lot of lately is jacking my shutter speeds up very high to ensure I was getting every last pixel of resolution out of the new cameras; whilst this made for great definition under the majority of circumstances, this crispness of capture doesn’t always suit the theme you’re trying to shoot to.

The idea I decided to follow for this series was flow – people as water, life as transient, a moment being more than a moment and altogether insufficient to capture the sheer volume of activity of what was going on around me. It’s a very strong impression I got simply by standing in place and watching life moving around me – people simply didn’t stop, torpedoing from location to location with some objective in mind, dispatching that objective, then moving on to the next one. (I’m guilty of this at times too; it’s a consequence of running your own business. Perhaps this experiment was as close to my subconscious was going to get to forcing me to slow down and smell the roses.)

The only two ways I could see of communicating this idea were either to have a huge number of people lining streets and thoroughfares to appear as a continuous mass (there were a lot of people, but not that many, and moreover there was no way or achieving that vantage point) or through the use of motion blur – not a little bit, of the kind that appears at 1/30s and with people walking, but something altogether a bit more abstract. In hindsight, this would have been very easy to accomplish with a tripod, but without it, I didn’t have the foresight to pack one in – much less bring one on the day. Even a mini-pod or a Gorillapod would have been useful.

Instead, I was forced to test the stabilizer of the OM-D to its limits – even with something to brace against (And sometimes not), I’d be needing shutter speeds in the 1/2s-1/5s range to achieve the effects I was looking for. Needless to say, you can only do this when the sun is going down. To give me a higher chance of success, I used the 12/2 for most of these shots, and shot in continuous high burst mode – not for the frame rate, but because I’d be able to keep my finger on the shutter button to minimize camera shake, and have only short intervals between frames. When I had to shoot using the LCD instead of the EVF, I would pull the neck strap tight to tension the camera somewhat against my neck and hopefully reduce shake – this technique is actually surprisingly effective. In hindsight, I should have used the self timer + burst function to completely eliminate finger-induced shake.

One of the things with this kind of photography is that you really don’t know exactly what you’re going to get until you get it; there may not be enough motion, or too much, or you might have streaks in the wrong part of the frame; all you can do is do a lot of takes until you get the right one.

Compositionally, the most important thing to remember when involving motion in your shot is that there must always be some clearly static and sharp object in the frame to serve as a visual anchor for your composition; if this is missing, the photograph just appears to be blurred or out of focus without the same directionality and focus that is implied by motion blur. In fact, having a large number of people moving through the frame is somewhat reminiscent of the energy of strong, dynamic brush strokes in a painting. I like the idea of abstracting out the people from the scene, and the contrast between the animate and inanimate. For these images, I chose the visual anchor first, then followed it by imagining where I’d want my flows of people to go; needless to say, there were a lot that didn’t work out because I didn’t have enough people moving close to the camera – a foreground is of course a necessity of using a wide-angle lens.

I did use the 45/1.8 for some of the images, but this proved to be extremely challenging as the lower practical limit for handholding a 90mm equivalent was somewhere in the 1/10s range on the OM-D, which is fractionally higher than what I needed for the desired effect. Still, I did manage to get lucky a couple of times with both very stable shots and convenient things to lean against. I also tried some more and less conventional techniques – panning blur, and combining staticness with abrupt motion of the entire camera to impose an impression of chaos whilst maintaining some semblance of a visual anchor. Overall, I’m pretty happy with the results though. Notes for a future experiment: I’d love to try this with a tripod and a longer lens. MT

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Filed Under: On Photography Tagged With: article, experiments, how to, japan, micro four thirds, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, motion, olympus, om-d, photoessay, photography, street photography, thein, tokyo

Photoessay: Street photography with the OM-D and ZD 60/2.8 macro

November 8, 2012 by Ming Thein

From outside looking in

All images in this series shot with the Olympus OM-D and ZD 60/2.8 macro.

There’s nothing that says you can’t use macro lenses for non-macro purposes; the old myth of the optics being poorer at longer distances is just that: a myth. In fact, macro lenses tend to perform better than most standard lenses even at long distances because they are so well corrected in the first place. There are two drawbacks: firstly, the apertures tend to be slower, which isn’t so good for achieving subject separation and is solely a physical property of the focal length and aperture combination of the lens; secondly, the focus throw tends to be shorter.

Not wanting to be part of the crowd

This is a both good and bad – good because if an autofocus lens, the focusing elements don’t have to move as far since the lens must also be able to provide sufficient effective extension to focus at macro distances, bad because it means that if you have a manual focus lens – like the ZF.2 2/50 Makro-Planar I use – you have very, very little travel between mid distances – say 2-3m or so – and infinity, which can make precise focusing very difficult. For manual focus lenses, using the camera’s built-in rangefinder/ focus confirmation dot simply isn’t precise enough as the dot stays lit for some not inconsiderable displacement of the focusing barrel*. For autofocus lenses, the camera/ lens combination may not have the ability to consistently move the elements by the precise displacements required for very small changes in focusing distance – this is especially apparent with older screwdriver-focused lenses like the Nikon 60/2.8 D. Newer coreless motor lenses (AFS, EFS, M4/3 lenses etc) generally don’t have problems as there is very little backlash in the focusing system.

The writing’s on the wall

*Do this simple test to see what I mean: shoot the same subject, at the same distance, with the cameras on a tripod and your desired test lens attached. Using the viewdfinder or EVF, try to focus the lens/ camera manually from both infinity and near limit, stopping just once the focus confirm indicator lights. Do this with the aperture wide open, otherwise other focus errors like backfocusing or mirror misalignment can’t be identified and compensated for. Shoot the same frame again, focusing with live view to use as a comparison image. What you’ll probably see – is that neither image using focus confirm is as sharp as the live view image. This effect is even worse for telephotos, because of the depth of field characteristics of the focal length. The shorter the focus throw, the worse this problem becomes.

Untitled.

Potential focusing issues notwithstanding, so long as you have enough light for a sufficiently high shutter speed to avoid camera shake, the results are generally excellent. Specifically in the case of the ZD60, (my full review at macro distances is here) I’m pleased to report that the lens’ already excellent optical properties do not change at all at longer distances. In fact, the one niggling flaw I saw at close range is mostly gone – I’m not seeing any bright edges to out of focus highlights. Both foreground and background bokeh is smooth and non-distracting. Subjects fall nicely in planes and are separated in a manner that has plenty of 3D pop; this is characteristic of a lens with excellent microcontrast.

Arches

Focusing is not an issue at all, and is just as fast as the ZD 45/1.8 providing you have the 4-way limiter switch in the right position. The one minor issue I did find was that the lens with hood is not exactly inconspicuous (and nowhere as compact as the 45), being nearly 15cm long with everything in place. Relatively small by DSLR standards, but probably not exactly what M4/3 users have in mind.. Personally, I find this combination of interest not because I’d take it out on dedicated street photography/ travel expeditions, but because I frequently carry the OM-D system either as a backup camera (or as a primary for assignments that don’t require the D800E’s resolution) – and the ability for a lens to do double-duty means one less thing to carry, break, fail or potentially lose. It’s always nice to have options. MT

The Olympus OM-D, 60/2.8 Macro and 45/1.8 are available through Amazon by clicking on their respective links.

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A pick-me-up before the pick up

Hiding from the dishes

Guardedly relaxed

I’m on the way

Hop to rainbow row

A surprisingly good soup

Filed Under: On Photography Tagged With: micro 4/3, micro four thirds, ming, ming thein, mingthein.com, olympus, omd, photography, street photography, thein, zd 60/2.8 macro

The four stages of creative evolution of a photographer

November 7, 2012 by Ming Thein

As close as I got to Everest. Nikon D700, 85/1.4 G

On careful reflection, there are a number of stages which every photographer (hopefully) goes through as their creative vision develops. In fact, it’s more like a pyramid or mountain that requires climbing: the higher you go, the more difficult it gets, and the more commitment is required. The lower slopes are gentle, easy and well-charted; the higher slopes are rocky, icy, treacherous and the preserve of the supremely brave or foolhardy. At the same time, far more people visit base camp than the summit; and few do it without supplemental oxygen.

Perhaps that metaphor has gone a bit too far. Like every pursuit, photography is one of severely diminishing returns: it isn’t difficult or expensive to become reasonably good, but if you’re trying to push the boundaries, be prepared for frequent dead ends, wrong turns, and never-ending criticism: the simple reality is that if you are always experimenting, not all experiments turn out better than the previous one, let alone tried and true methods.

I was at a dinner with a number of fellow commercial photographers recently where this point was discussed in some detail: we work in an environment of shrinking budgets and drying up jobs, yet there will always be some clients who perhaps are more like patrons than business as usual: they don’t mind you trying to push the boundaries. The comparison to the art world was drawn: a piece that may not make any sense to a casual, external observer makes no sense precisely because of the casualness of the observation: the viewer does not have the benefit of having experienced and seen the evolution of the artist from the starting point into their current form of expression. I think the same thing is true with photography, though to a lesser extent; we were discussing another recent batch of image submission which had to be graded/ sorted/ reviewed etc. and how to judge whether something had extremely deep and complex metaphors, or whether it was simply a bad image – the conclusion was that the caption was the giveaway. (It stands to reason that a casual-looking image with a deep meaning and careful execution would have an equally-carefully crafted caption that supports the message of the photograph. None of these particular images did.)

Pre stage
The vast majority of the population falls into this group. These are the people who own cameras and perhaps use them at social occasions, or for recording/ documentary purposes, or when they are expected to – like when on vacation – but do not actively seek to go out and take photographs. They may be creative in other areas, but just not photography. Composition is not something that they actively think about and technical skill is limited to turning the dial to the green mode. For the purposes of this discussion, I will classify them but not discuss their traits in any greater detail; I’m almost certain that none of my readers fall into this category anyway.

First stage
To progress to the first stage, you need to have the intention; you have to make a conscious choice in wanting to make a image. You may or may not know what is good, what works and what doesn’t, or the technical aspects of photography; the bottom line is that a person in this category has the desire to photograph. I suppose this is what separates newbie photographers from the rest of the population who might merely own a camera. Intention is what gives people the motivation to actually get out and do something – in this case, learning, experimenting, and trying out things. It is impossible to learn photography solely by reading or looking at other people’s images, though this can be very useful – you really don’t get a feel for things without experience, and this experimentation is something which is a common factor to all forms of creativity.

The other characterizing traits of a person in the first stage of creativity is that the way they shoot and the work they produce is reactive; they may make a conscious choice to embark on an outing whose sole purpose is to take photographs, however, it is very much a case ‘of shoot what you see’, and only photographing a subject if it’s obvious and front and centre. There is no element of anticipation, preconception, or previsualization involved; this means that the images are frequently lacking in a story – ‘the idea’ – because the photograph frequently contains only the subject and no related elements (the context) – or worse still, a bunch of distracting and misleading elements.

Second stage
The next phase of development involves some awareness of ‘the idea’. It is usually also accompanied by a heightened consciousness of one’s surroundings; this is caused by the development of one’s sense of observation and anticipation. The photographer in the second stage will visit a particular place and feel that it is photographically ‘rich’, with a lot of opportunities or stories; or perhaps that there are certain elements that must be included in a shot in order to the essence of the location.

However, the idea may not be fully formed, or the photographer may lack the technical ability to execute what they are envisioning in their minds. Images produced by the photographers in the second stage tend to feel a little bit chaotic; this is because not all of the elements in the scene are under control, or were included or excluded as a conscious choice on the part of the photographer. It is very possible for a second stage photographer to occasionally produce a brilliant piece image; the problem is that although the outcome may match the intended story perfectly, it was more due to luck than planning and would not be consistently repeatable. Most dedicated amateurs will reach this stage.

Third stage
The first part of this stage – let’s call it 3A – is when a photographer firstly has a vision in their mind of what the end product should look like, can consistently execute this, and have the image communicate its meaning or intention to a viewer on its own merits, without the help of a caption, or intervention from the photographer. These photographers tend to have nearly every element of the image under conscious control; and have a level of technical skill that enables them to consistently repeat the execution if required. There is practically nothing left to chance, and no detail is too small. A good commercial photographer would fall into this category, and it’s probably beneficial for them not to push too much farther, especially in Asia and other conservative markets – there are far more clients that prefer the ‘safe’ route rather than the experimental one.

At the same time, there’s something missing from the images – they’re too safe, too perfect; stage 3B is where the creative realizes this and is trying to produce something different, but can’t quite make it work; it isn’t a bad image, but the full idea or story isn’t getting through. On the way to the pinnacle, one has to expect to fail at least some, if not most of the time. And by fail, I mean produce images that are not quite satisfactory for some reason or another – usually because they fall short of fully and clearly communicating the photographer’s idea at the time of capture. If this isn’t happening, then chances are you’re playing it overly safe and stagnating.

Fourth stage
Defining what makes a photographer qualify for this level is tough, simply because it’s impossible to pin a concrete set of limits on creativity. Perhaps it’s best to say they have to be gifted in some way and give examples; we start with Louis Daguerre, include Oskar Barnack, H-CB, Capa, Kubrick, Salgado, Majoli and perhaps also Avedon and Leibowitz; I think some of the Japanese photographers like Araki would also qualify, though I don’t claim to fully understand their work – but it is clearly a very developed, evolved style. I’m sure there are plenty more out there whose work I haven’t yet had the chance to see, or whose work is either kept private (Vivian Maier, for example – though I don’t think she’s a stage four) or not well publicised. There are but a small handful of people who ever reach this point; they have the common trait of pushing the boundaries in one or more aspects of the image making process simply because they can imagine and envision things which the majority of the population are unable to. I suppose in some ways, this aberration of the mind or difference in thinking is a bit like having a disability, but in a way that’s more beneficial than debilitating.

Although these people have the benefit of being able to see in a way that the rest of us cannot; a lot of them are also handicapped by it because this way of seeing is so ingrained into their thought processes and consciousness that it is very difficult, if not impossible, to break away from. This is in a way analogous to a form of savantism in which the subject has a narrow, obsessive focus on one particular topic that leads them to consider every possibility and outcome; including the ones that are normally discarded through a more balanced rational thought process. This focus results and creativity or games in one very specific niche; a slightly less intense variant of this is the development of personal style. Discovery and adoption of a personal style, in a way, is the development of and obsession with a particular look or mood to an image.

One little thing I notice about photographers who are at the fourth stage is that none of them will ever admit it: their work is never excellent, it is merely good enough (and rarely, if that). They are proud of what they do, but they know that things can still be taken further with another push; ideas fleshed out and illustrated more fully. Their work is always technically very well executed, and frequently polarising; their creativity is so far ahead of the interpretative capacities of most people that there are two camps of viewers: the concept or message is so fundamental that either you understand it, or you don’t. They have a deep passion in what they do, bordering on the obsessive; and are frequently difficult people to interact with in social settings, simply because their thought processes are so different to the majority of people that there is no common ground or reference basis on which for them to interact, leading to frequent miscommunication and awkward gaps in conversation. This in turn contributes to such artists being misunderstood or developing a reputation for genius – it’s not that they don’t want to explain the rationale behind their thought processes, it’s because they simply cannot – what seems perfectly ordinary to them and not requiring a second thought is something that requires a huge number of mental leaps for somebody else.

The conclusion of this article has deviated somewhat into an examination of the mind of how an extremely talented and gifted person would think; this was not intentional however in the interest of full disclosure it is a topic that is very personal to me because of things I have faced in my own life. I graduated young, and have always been – by a large margin – the youngest person at my level in any organization I’ve worked at; in my last corporate job, my peers were in their 50s (I was 25). I had no problems doing the job – the huge delta in thought processes and social experience is what made me feel highly uncomfortable with my day to day situation.

One of the reasons I’m so passionate about photography is because it is one of the last few truly meritocratic fields; it doesn’t matter how old you are or who you’re related to (there are of course exceptions); in an anonymous viewing, a crap image will always be a crap image; there is far less discrimination based on age than in other fields. Perhaps it’s because a perception thing: you can instantly judge the merits of a photograph visually, but it’s impossible to know if somebody is a good investment manager or consultant or operations director simply by looking at them. (And even several years down the line, it’s still difficult to tell; it’s impossible to separate out the person from the other environmental factors affecting their work.)

This is of course not to claim that I fall into stage four or even 3B; I think it takes recognition by a large body of people for a person to be recognized as gifted. But I do know that I plan and think about my images to the point of being neurotically obsessive; there is always something that can be better, there is always something else to try, another article to write or another thought to elucidate and share. And in a weird way, I think I rather enjoy it. MT

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