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...

Thoughts on Camera Design

Looking at the latest crop of advanced cameras from the big makers, festooned as they are with buttons, dials, and multi-coloured menus, I can't help but feel a certain pining for the good old days of unencumbered simplicity. Of course, I use the word, "unencumbered," purposefully here. When one considers the camera, one cannot lose sight of the goal: to produce excellent photos. In holding to this goal, we must ask, what factors need to be considered in the pursuit of that result? From the photographer's point of view, things like composition, framing, point of view, shooting angle, subject matter, and balance within the frame are omnipresent considerations. That is the art of photography. The science is really pretty simple, how to get the right amount of light into the camera in the right way to capture the desired image (not including gathering and focusing the light, which is the job of the lens, and is beyond the scope of this article).

There are essentially three ways to control the amount of light that enters a camera: 1) shutter speed; 2) aperture, and; 3) ISO sensitivity. If you're using a flash, add to this some options to control flash power, flash groups, etc., but it’s those first three variables that really count, controlling the amount of light that impacts the film or the sensor housed within. That’s it!

Accessing these essential controls on your camera should be as seamless and natural as operating a car. In fact, this is a good analogy given that we are dealing with essentially the same number of primary inputs: three. In the case of an automobile these are steering, braking and acceleration as provided by the steering wheel, brakes and accelerator. Like a camera, the car will have all manner of optional extras such as a radio or stereo system, air-conditioning and  electronic windows that make it more desirable, but none of these are essential, and more importantly, none of them can in any way compromise access to steering, brakes and acceleration or the car will be an unmitigated failure.

Modern cameras come with extras that often make a luxury car seem under specked. GPS, electronic filters, face detection, and anti-shake facilities to name a few. But unlike a good car, it would seem that designers sometimes put so much emphasis on these “extras” that the essential controls, aperture, shutter speed and ISO, get submerged. When this happens, the camera becomes more difficult to control in day to day use, and begins to “get in the way of the photograph” as it were.

Perhaps camera designers need to start at the right place, with the essential inputs, and then add the extras. A number of years ago, I imagined a camera design with three prominent wheels, one for each of those essential controls. No need for a top mounted LCD panel, no need for a complicated menu system. Everything controlled from those three wheels. It really isn’t radical thinking, there already exist good examples from the past for this approach.

In the heyday of the single lens reflex camera, when film was still king, in the 1970s and 1980s, the aperture ring almost always fell naturally to hand no matter what the make or model, because it was where one would expect to find it, on the lens. The aperture is, after all, a function of the lens. The shutter speed dial was similarly well positioned, on the camera body, which contained the focal plane shutter, characteristic of the SLR type. The dial for this usually also included the ability to adjust ISO (ASA/DIN). Although the positioning of these inputs wasn't exactly the same on every camera, Olympus OM cameras for instance, placed the shutter speed dial on the camera body at the base of the lens rather than on the top plate, they were always easily accessible and obvious to the user. Once you became comfortable with your particular camera, changing shutter speed and aperture could be easily managed without even removing your eye from the viewfinder. A simple match needle light meter, inside the finder, ensured that your adjustments didn’t result in over or under-exposed images. In short, the designers were producing elegant tools that worked as intuitively as a good automobile. Today, such obvious placement of the primary inputs seems to be the exception rather than the rule.

Another thing that has changed over the years is the sense of value that one used to expect from something as personal as a camera. Nikon, Canon, Minolta, Pentax and Olympus, among others, all produced reliable metal bodied masterpieces that also felt solid. The same could be said for the lenses. Slapping down $500.00 for a good camera was never all that easy, but you always felt as if your hard earned money was being exchanged for something solid and lasting.

Today, while cameras are more advanced in terms of electronics, which are often intrinsically reliable, the camera bodies and lens barrels often feel cheap and toy like compared to their predecessors. This impression is furthered by the plethora of plastic buttons, and dials which may have only dubious relevance to the primary inputs described earlier. Most perplexing of all, while SLRs in the 1970s and 1980s were often mechanical masterpieces with hundreds of widgets, pins, springs, gears and oddly shaped stainless rods or arms held together by miniscule screws, the complete camera was often smaller than modern dSLRs whose internal workings are almost entirely electronic.

Consider the Nikon FM and FE, the Canon AE-1 and A-1, the Minolta SRT-201 and X-700, Pentax ME and MX. They were all solid representatives of an age when the camera was a truly valued acquisition. Also consider the Olympus OM-1 and OM-2, in my opinion, the  pinnacle of design in single lens reflex cameras. If you have any doubt, find one in a used camera store and hold it for a few moments. Incomparable!

Fortunately, after years of plastic cameras, it looks as if the industry is beginning to learn. Fujifilm’s success with the Finepix X100 has certainly not gone unnoticed. Here we have a camera that in all but technology could have been created in 1978. Form, as a product of function, may be on its way back. Likewise Sony’s newly announced NX-7, and Samsung’s NEX-200 seem to be getting back to a more minimalist formula where solid build, access to basic inputs and compact design are once more being considered. I was especially pleased to see Sony adapt a dual control wheel design on the body of the NX-7 that suggests a more careful analysis of the camera as an extension of the photographer. Hopefully, there will be more of the same to follow from all of the major manufacturers.

In my opinion, big sensor, sturdy construction, simple controls, exceptional image quality, and compact form factor is the formula that makers should be leaning towards. Pentax was certainly on the right track with its K-3 and K-5 designs. Unfortunately, most cameras seem to offer only part of this formula in any one package. Walks through the local big box store, especially past the camera counter, fill me with dread. Picking up the latest consumer dSLRs or super zoom is a regular disappointment. Their incredibly light plastic designs, especially their featherweight lenses, scream disposable! It's not the impression one wants from any consumer device costing more than a couple hundred dollars, and it certainly wouldn't have sufficed for any of the serious brands of the past. Even many entry level SLRs in the 70's felt impressive. The K1000 from Pentax is a case in point. It was notoriously robust, a first choice for art school and photography students, and often used continuously for decades after. Surely this is the better approach, especially in an age when we are supposed to be more, rather than less, environmentally aware.

A good camera should function like an extension of the photographer. It should speak care in design and strength in execution. It should be a product that one keeps, not only because it works well, but because it has become a friend. Ultimately, I think this is what people want.

Is the Future of Digital Photography Big or Small?

Two recent developments in the digital camera arena have caught my attention. The first is the Olympus and Panasonic joint announcement of the new Micro Four Thirds System. The second is the first reviews of Nikon's D700. Although, both are interesting, one is likely more visionary than the other.

Early test results seem to indicate that the new D700 from Nikon is indeed an incredible camera. Image quality, ISO performance, speed and handling are all top drawer. It's also very strong, with a magnesium allow body. What you pay, for all this quality, is more than mere money. In addition to being expensive (estimated at approximately $3,0000.00 retail), it's also fairly large and heavy. Nevertheless, most reviewers seem to think it will be a worthy competitor to Canon's EOS 5D. In short, the D700 is probably one of the best digital SLR's available today.

The micro four thirds system, on the other hand, is not a single product, but a new standard. And, as yet, there are no products to demonstrate its practicality.

Micro four thirds builds on the existing four thirds system. It uses the same sensor size but changes the standards that define how light is routed to the sensor and how the operator views the scene. To begin with, the micro four thirds system will dispense with the reflex mirror, pentaprism and bulky housing associated with that approach. Instead, this system borrows from more basic camera designs through the use of electronic viewfinders. This means that the main sensor will not only record the scene, but will also provide a "live view" to the finder and/or LCD.

Micro Four Thirds, will reduce the mechanical complexity of the camera, its size and its weight. Lenses can be smaller, camera bodies can be smaller, and image quality should remain essentially unchanged.

At this point, I can hear camera enthusiasts far and wide shaking their heads. Given past experience, and the products currently on the market, I doubt that many of us would select an electronic viewfinder over an optical one. The new Nikon, according to early reports, has a beautiful optical view, and I can't immediately think of any professional, or semi-professional camera with an electronic finder. Having said that, we are basing our judgement on the past. Digital cameras, as part of the digital age, should benefit from the rapid improvements that go hand in hand with modern electronics. There is no doubt that electronic viewfinders will continue to improve as quickly as LCD technology does, Pentaprisms and mirrors, on the other hand, have probably improved little in the past twenty years, and are unlikely to change markedly over the next twenty.

Another area where there has been much contention is in sensor size. The four thirds sensor, while much bigger than the sensors used in point and shoots, is the smallest of all the "pro" and "semi-pro" designs. Old time photographers will remember that larger film formats always offered the potential for better quality results. The D700 from Nikon, with it's full frame sensor, will certainly appeal to this mind set. Having said that, "larger is better" is not necessarily true when it comes to sensors. While full frame sensors do offer lower noise and better response when pushed to higher ISOs, miniaturization is one of the elements that has driven progress in the digital age. It may be that improved technologies will eventually negate some of the perceived advantages the larger sensors possess. Smaller sensors already offer other advantages purely their own, such as smaller cameras, lighter lenses, increased depth of field and a larger teleconversion factor.

So far so good. What about the role of the camera? For me, a camera is a tool. More than that, the camera is a portable tool built to a high technical standard offering reliable service. The key ideas here, then, are these: 1) tool; 2) portable, and; 3) quality. It doesn't really matter what order these are in. The important thing is that the design of any camera take these essential attributes into consideration.

Ask yourself how you shoot. Unless you're working primarily out of a studio where your camera lives on a tripod, and spares are close to hand, you will probably also highlight portability and reliability/durability as attributes high on your list. It seems to me that a standard designed to shrink size and weight, while reducing the mechanical complexity of the unit, will naturally fulfill these requisites.

As with all designs, the Micro Four Thirds standard will result in some compromise. Manual focus by wire is one, and it's something that I'm not fond of. But given that electrical connections relieve designers of the need to couple the focusing ring to a specific part of the lens, they can optimize glass arrangement and control layout, keeping the design small and efficient.

Whereas the D700 may represent the best of conventional thinking in the digital age, the Micro Four Thirds System gives us a chance to look ahead towards new and better possibilities. Whether Micro Four Thirds prospers or not, chances are it is pointing us in the direction digital photography is going anyway. I for one look forward to high end gear that is as convenient to pack and use as some of the best point and shoots already are.

A good tool facilitates the craft. It acts like an extension of the user's body. You can forget that it is a tool because it fits; it works; it does what you want without constantly reminding you of its presence. This is where Micro Four Thirds should take us.
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For a little fun, here's a list of attributes, or features, that I like in a camera:

1. capable of producing high quality images
2. a joy to use - natural and intuitive
3. small and light enough to be convenient - unobtrusive
4. responsive on start up and in use
5. reliable
6. robust - durable dust and water resistant body and lenses
7. quick accurate auto focus in most common lighting conditions
8. easy option for direct and mechanical manual focus
9. ample buffer for multiple RAW or SHQ exposures
10. large bright viewfinder to enable accurate manual focus
11. large controls that can be manipulated easily
12. excellent battery life
13. articulating LCD screen
14. effective anti dust system
15. continued system development into the foreseeable future
16. option for manual control of all major camera functions
17. provision to operate camera by remote from in front or behind
18. auto bracketing of up to 18 exposures over +/- 3 ev stops
19. good value for the money - competitively priced