The Processed Image

I have long held the opinion that photography, like any other kind of creative art, tends to take its lead from nature and the world around us. If you ask a thoughtful or formally educated artist about the purpose of art, you might get an answer along the lines that art allows us to interpret our experience and make sense of our place in the world. Many years ago, I remember reading a book that described art as a way of taking possession of the world - in that sense, art allows us to understand our world and thus give the artist and those who view the art, some ownership in a word that can otherwise seem quite overwhelming at times.

I tend to agree with the sentiments expressed in that long ago read, and that is probably why it has stuck with me. Having said that, I think the creative process is also much more complex than any single thought can express. I think we also create art because we are esthetic creatures who have been given concepts such as beauty and ugliness. I think we create art because we are natural engineers who like to modify our environment. I think we create art because we are created in the image of God and are therefore creative ourselves.

The thing about art that one needs to understand right off, though, is that it is the result, or in some cases the process, of being creative. Art in whatever form it takes is as much a new thing as it is a facsimile of something that already exists. I think this is an understanding that painters and sculptors, and those who appreciate those forms, would understand almost intuitively - it can't be exclusively new or accurately representational. Strangely, when we move from such traditional forms to photography, we find that many practitioners and viewers hold to a different understanding. While no one would say that a painting is reality, it is remarkable how many people feel that a photograph is. Of course, no matter how an image is made, it can never be more than an interpretation of what it seeks to represent.

I wanted to talk about this today, because one of the potential problems I see with photography are people who insist on "reality".

"You shouldn't change that colour, or process that image, because it isn't real," is something many photographers have heard at one time or another. Of course, when one sits down and takes the time to understand that a photograph of a valley isn't a valley, then the senselessness of that statement becomes somewhat more clear.

An out of camera jpeg and a version processed through ACDSee Pro 5 from RAW. Which one better evokes the scene as viewed by the photographer? Shot with an Olympus E-30 and 9-18mm Zuiko Lens. Photos Copyright Christopher Wheeler. Do not use without the permission of the photographer.

"But, a photograph is supposed to represent the real world," may be the subsequent comment. Well, yes, a photograph is representational art, but so is a book that describes the lives of its characters. I am no philosopher, but it seems to me that much of what we create in art and science is in fact representational even if that relationship is not immediately obvious. Religions seek to uncover the mysteries of the universe through a search for God, and science despite its supposed logical detachment is in fact doing much the same.

Religious art seeks to represent something of the divine without blundering into the area of idolatry, while science, through math and an understanding of the laws that govern the universe, finds its own way of expressing the same. For a scientist or mathematician, an elegant and concise algorithm or formula may conjure a remarkable picture of the universe or represent a physical manifestation of the natural world more concisely and accurately than any image. Likewise an inspired piece of biblical text may evoke in the reader a profound image of life encompassing far more than any momentary experience.

Producing an image when the goal is realism cannot be accomplished simply by what the camera records. The camera is a product of science and engineering. It is a cold hard tool that responds only to light. The light passes through glass elements that redirect it and focus it onto a sensor. The sensor has more microscopic lenses that focus the photons into silicon wells where they create an electrical charge. The electrical charge is then quantified through the magic of electronics and reinterpreted on a small screen as a recorded visual image that emits light. This light then enters our eyes where it strikes nerves that send signals to the brain which then reinterprets the image. It is quite a process and one that emphasized how far removed the recorded image is from the scene it represents.

When one explores the world, what we see is not just informed by the photons that enter the eye, as the cameras image is by the light that contacts the sensor. Our prior experiences, our state of mind, and our other senses, to name a few contributory elements, all impact on how our minds interpret the scene. I for one, often find that no matter how good the camera, its results seldom describe with any real impact, the profound beauty of the view that propelled me to take the photo in the first place. The colours are hardly ever as saturated, the vista never feels as immense, the range never as dramatic, and the detail is never revealed to the same extent. If I were to leave such a photo as the camera "saw" it, then I would have a poor representation of reality to share with others.

An out of camera jpeg and a version processed through ACDSee Pro 5 from RAW. Which one better evokes the scene as viewed by the photographer? Shot with a Canon 7D and 15-85mm Canon Lens. Photos Copyright Christopher Wheeler. Do not use without the permission of the photographer.

Post processing is one way that the modern photographer seeks to recreate something of the mystery and magic of their own vision in the final work. You start with a RAW file from the camera and then you tweak it in a effort to reveal the beauty that was there. Then there are photographers who push photos beyond the threshold of mere visual reproduction. They want to evoke the emotion of their experience, which is no less real for them than a cold image uninformed by human experience or feeling.

The truth is that we all see the same scene quite differently. There is no one reality! If you don't believe this, ask a crime investigator. He will tell you that three honest witnesses, all of whom saw the same crime take place, will each tell a different story. None is lying, but all saw something that was interpreted differently by their minds because each was, in fact, a different person.

Photography, as an arm of art, records the visual world. Sometimes this is the visual world that we are familiar with as in street, landscape, or portrait photography, and sometimes it records the less familiar as in macro-photography or astrophotography. Whatever the subject matter, what one sees is unique to that person, and how one represents it, to be honest and accurate, must also be unique.

So, in conclusion, my message today is don't get hung up on whether or not the photograph looks "real enough" to you but consider it as a representation of the artist's vision, as something unique and special in its own right. If then you can say, "I love this!" So much the better. If not, well, that's honesty and there's no fault in that.

Olympus to Canon - First Thoughts

I just took delivery of a brand new Canon EOS 7D. Up until this time, I have been the proud owner of a number of Olympus digital cameras including two dSLRs - the E-330 followed by the E-30. Recently my son, combined with years of exposure to web hype about Canons, Nikons and Sonys, convinced me that it was time to upgrade my camera and also time to consider another brand. Olympus, after all, and despite their claims to the contrary, has in many practical senses, abandoned the Four Thirds dSLR system.

This photo shows, clockwise from the top, Olympus E-330, Canon 7D, and Olympus E-30.

So, onward with the Canon...

While I opened the boxes just a few hours ago, and have only just managed to fully charge the enclosed battery and begin wading through the instruction manual, it is interesting that I am already drawing comparisons between this unit and the Olympus E-30 that it replaces. So far, I'd say that as nice as the 7D is, size wise and shape wise, the Olympus wins the ergonomics contest. Mind you, this may not be a fair comparison as the E-30 was, for me, almost perfect in terms of construction, size and weight. The fact that it also offered a tilt swivel LCD, while the 7D does not, just adds to my sense that Olympus had it right and Canon, not quite.

Other subtle differences that affect usability include the the on/off switch which seemed better positioned on the E-30, but better executed on the 7D; the use of two standard control dials on the Olympus versus one oddly placed dial on the Canon and that strange wheel on the back. While they work well, they are just not placed quite as conveniently as they are on the Olympus, so once again the Olympus layout seems more convenient to me. Beyond that general and admittedly niggling comparison though, it is quite astonishing just how similar these two cameras feel in the hands. On the whole, both offer an excellent control layout, strong construction and solid feel. There really isn't much to recommend one over the other, and both feel much better to me than the Nikon D7000 I looked at.

Then there is the manual, which seems quite good, better than any Olympus manual I've read, and is already shedding light on a few areas that no one seems to speak much about. First off is image stabilization. Olympus uses an in body stabilization system that I rarely used, but which also never got in the way. The E-30 had a three mode system that would allow you to stabilize shots even if you were panning. The first thing I have discovered about Canon's lens based system is that it apparently doesn't work while the camera is in motion, as in when you're panning. Hmmm. That's interesting. The other thing I noticed, at least with the 15 - 85mm kit lens I purchased with the camera, is that it is huge. It seems fairly well built but is quite a bit heavier and larger in diameter than any of my Olympus lenses. The APS-C sensor isn't that much larger than a four-thirds sensor so I wonder how much of this is due to that, apparently less than optimal, optical image stabilization system. Hmmm again... Also, while the manual is good, the complexity of the 7D makes it a must read.

What I do like right away about the 7D is that the camera seems to be very solid, as does the lens. The 7D is built such that one could probably employ it as a fairly effective modern take on the Medieval mace, if you needed to. I also very much like the fact that the 7D is part of a living breathing system with lots of third party support, a huge variety of lenses and accessories to choose from and most importantly, a future (well, nothing is certain, but it seems probable)!

Of course, all this comes under the heading of first impressions, and nothing much can really be said until I have had a chance to get out into the field and take photos. So more to come in future posts. Stay tuned...

Olympus or What?

The following article has grown out of a post I contributed on another blog.

Back in the days of film, I shot with Nikon but switched to Olympus with the advent of digital. My first Olympus actually came to me as a gift. My father discovering that we had no working camera when my last Nikon quit, and with babes, a new mortgage, and no money to replace the Nikon, was kind enough to send me his old Olympus D600L.

That first Olympus, which I still own and which still works, was a simple camera with a 3x optical zoom and a 1.4 Megapixel sensor. In additon to a rather nice lens and a comfortable all in one design, it could handle smart media cards with a massive maximum storage capacity of something like 8MB.  What that meant was that I could save up to approximately 12 jpegs on the card before it was full. Not bad really, and while not as good as the 36 exposures that I could fit on a roll of Kodachrome, it was every bit as good as the number I could fit on a roll of 127 film with the first camera I ever owned, a Kodak Brownie Starmite. Of course, the best thing about my new Olympus was that I could take photos again, including pictures of my young children and it was capable of producing some very fine images - a good tool for the time!

A few years after starting out with the D600L, I finally found myself with enough extra cash to buy a new camera - no not enough for one of the C7070 Wide Zooms I was lusting after, but enough for a new line of inexpensive cross-over digitals, the SP-500 UZ. Once again, Olympus didn't disappoint. While this camera was little more than a point and shoot with a decently versatile lens and a pseudo slr style, it proved reliable and very capable of gathering light in a most appealing way. I took this light little camera everywhere I went and took thousands of photos until I dropped in onto a cement sidewalk damaging the case but remarkably failing to kill it.

As it turned out, that accident proved rather fortuitous because my wife seeing the horror on my face and realizing how important photography was to me, suggested that it would be OK if I purchased a replacement. What joy! What luck! I was very quickly lusting after a lovely Canon 40D. Once again, however, the price seemed a little beyond my limited budget. Then I noticed that one of the big American camera stores was hosting a very appealing sale on the Olympus E-330. While I knew little about the model, the style instantly appealed to me, recalling images of that C7070 that I'd wanted a few years earlier. Besides, it was a two lens kit for little more than I'd paid for the SP-500 UZ. My Visa was out before you could say, "check that exposure," and within a couple of weeks, I found myself in possession of a brand spanking new E-330.

Like the two cameras before it, the E-330 proved to be a solidly reliable beast, but unlike the previous cameras, getting exceptional images was more of a challenge.The E-330 was very slow to focus in poor light and no speed demon in good light, a drawback that was compounded by the two rather under impressive kit lenses that came with the camera. I soon found myself frustrated with the soft out-of-focus images and blown highlights that seemed to characterize many of my imaging attempts. The fact that I liked to photograph wildlife, where a quick accurate focus lock was essential, made matters even worse. Finally, there was the very small viewfinder and a sensor that couldn't really do anything above 400 ISO.

The thing is, once you've purchased the beast with the somewhat reluctant blessings of your wife, you are obliged to make it work, or look forward to a future in which the words, "upgrade my camera" would never be received positively again. I soon learned to set the exposure compensation to underexpose all my outdoor shots by at least a third stop, which fixed the blown highlights, and after replacing the kits lenses with a 70-300mm, a 9-18mm, a 14-54mm and a 35mm macro, solved most of the other problems. Though it could never be called a speed demon, by any stretch of the imagination, the E-330 began to work for me and produced some exceptional images.

If the E-330 had any real strengths it was the reliability and compact nature of the camera. I took the E-330 everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE! During the time that I owned that model, I spent half a year working in an experiential education class that specialized in long outdoor adventures. My Olympus went on snowshoe hikes into the back-country for days at a time with temperatures that never rose above -20 C. It hung around my neck as we built quinzies (igloo like sleeping accommodation) and rested beside my sleeping bag at night. It journeyed on a 400 KM bicycle trek bouncing around in one of my pannier bags as I peddled mile after mile of rutted northern highway through blowing snow, wind and rain. It accompanied me on a mountain hike that lasted a day up into the alpine, and a trek back to an wilderness cabin in which it rained so hard that my camera bag wound up as wet on the inside as it was on the outside. I dried my camera gear on a log ledge about three feet from a roaring wood fire in a cabin where wet people and gear meant the humidity was probably 250%; if it was any cooler, it would have rained inside the cabin!

Having thrown everything possible at that camera and its lenses, it still works to this very day, and works quite well. I have never ever had to clean the sensor which, given that I am constantly changing lenses, speaks volumes for the Olympus sensor cleaning system. I think I can honestly say that I have never owned a camera, and am unlikely to ever own a camera as ruggedly reliable as the E-330.

Despite its durability and the excellent images I was able to get in ideal lighting conditions, the dismal low light performance, both in terms of acquiring a focus lock and in terms of image noise, eventually propelled me towards another investment. Once again I started looking for a new product. This time, Canon had just released the 60D and Nikon the D7000. I liked the look of both but now I had another problem: a rudimentary but expensive collection of Olympus lenses - both the greatest asset and the greatest trap of the dSLR. In the end, I purchased an Olympus E-30.

Like the E-330, the E-30 has proven solid. The focus is much better, the low light performance better, the body quite close to perfect in it design and proportions, but somehow, it doesn't have the character or personality of the previous models. It felt like an attempt to compete with the big boys on their own turf and in doing so, it lost some of the quirky idiosyncrasies of previous cameras.

Ultimately, every camera represents a compromise and every camera is different. From the creative standpoint, this is a good thing since it allows us to find a tool which best reflects our own creative goals. It’s a real shame that so many photographers fail to recognize this. A great artist will use a stick if it allows him or her to express a unique vision not attainable with a sable haired brush, but the art magazines might run pages of detail on why a particular brush brand provides the better quality tool.

I am primarily a landscape photographer and have used Olympus cameras for years because no matter where I hike or how rough the conditions, I have never been let down by a failed camera. This was not the case when I shot with Nikons back in the days of film. Two of them died irrevocably at the most inopportune moments, one while I was beginning a once in a lifetime trip overseas, the other by a drop similar to the one that only wounded my SP-500 UZ a number of years later.

Olympus cameras I have owed over the past couple of decades, from left: D600L, SP-500 UZ, E-30, E-330.

Beyond their reliability, Olympus cameras have traditionally offered me three more advantages: 1) due to their reasonable dimensions and weights, I can carry a body and three lenses over long distances, which is important when one has to hike over hills and up mountains to reach his shooting locations; 2) the smaller Four-Thirds sensor used in their dSLRs and Mirrorless Compact System Cameras means a larger depth of field at all apertures, which is often a plus when shooting landscapes, and; 3) the two-times crop factor means that I can shoot the wildlife I want using more compact and less expensive long focal length lenses.

Despite all the advantages noted above, I have never been fully satisfied with the dynamic range of the Panasonic sensors that Olympus has used for the past several years. In fact, as other cameras, especially Nikons and Sonys, have incorporated sensors with better and better dynamic range, I have found myself becoming less and less satisfied with my own gear. The result is that lately I started looking again.

Of course, one hears so much commentary on the advantages of Canon and Nikon products that the reality can be a bit of an eye opener. I spent a good part of a day last week handling products from both makes at my local photographic store. I was expecting to be thoroughly impressed,especially with the Nikon D7000 which seemed to sit in the sweet spot where my budget and feature set requirements coincide. Of course, numerous glowing reviews haven't hurt either. Unfortunately, the hands-on impressions provided something different. In truth, I came away feeling disappointed. The Nikon D7000, which I had gone down to look at, and Canon 60D which seemed a good back up plan, both failed to impress me when examined in person. While each unit had some standout features, either technically or in terms of usability, neither handled as well as my E-30. The Canon felt cheap to me. Its rear buttons and controls, in particular, were disappointing and the D7000 seemed even worse but for completely different reasons.

There is no doubt that the Nikon D7000 has a very capable sensor and has been highly lauded in the media of late. But in my opinion, it has one of the most uncomfortable grips I've ever had the misfortune to hold. The viewfinder was disappointingly busy, and frankly, the lens mounting system was the worst, by feel, that I have ever tried. While the mechanical connection affected by the bayonet mount is probably hardly changed from the excellent system that was used during the late 70's and 80's, the addition of the side mounted electrical contacts used in today's cameras meant that the action of changing lenses was no where near as smooth as it is on the Olympus E system cameras. In fact, Nikon's lens mount made the Canon's system feel quite slick by comparison.

So what did I decide to do? In the end, the only camera I tried that impressed me with its good design was the Canon 7D. While it was a bit more than I wanted to pay, and while it is bulkier and heavier than one would hope for in a dSLR camera, and while its sensor is arguably less capable than those in the Nikons and Sonys, it was by far the most pleasant to handle and the most solid feeling, attributes that cannot be overlooked - craftsmen everywhere will tell you that a good tool always feels right in the hand!

I have a 7D on order.

What worries me now is whether the 7D will match the glowing endorsements and media hype one reads on-line. I have no doubt that it will excel in all the areas where my previous cameras fell short, but how will it compare in the areas where they excelled? I hope the reality proves as good as the hype. For the price, it should be about twice as good as my E-30. Of course, if it does disappoint, I can always resell it and chalk one up to experience before I invest too heavily in Canon glass. I'll have to let you folks know how it works out once I've had it for a while. Stay tuned. More to come...