Depreciation

My photography life is sort of a trilogy.

1970s -- I started dabbling in photography when I was 13 or so. A friend had an Argus C-3 and developed film in his basement darkroom. I thought that was cool. I borrowed my Dad's Kodak Retina 35mm rangefinder and started shooting lots of Plus-X and Tri-X. As a teen, photography kept me out of trouble...mostly.

The Nikon N90s with vertical grip.

The Nikon N90s with vertical grip.

1990s -- After high school, I hardly took a picture at all for the next couple of decades. Even after I got married and had kids, those little drugstore disposable cameras seem to be what I used the most, especially on family vacations to Disneyland. One day, I happened to be sitting in a doctor's office and picked up a copy of Popular Photography. Flipping through the pages, looking at the camera ads, I got wispy-eyed and realized how long it had been since I had taken a serious photograph and how much I missed that. I had a few bucks at this point and decided I needed a hobby. When I was a teenager, I dreamed of someday owning a Nikon F2. By the mid-90s, Nikon's newest offering was the N90s, an electronic, matrix-metering, auto-focus, motor-driven marvel. I saved for few months, pulled some money out of the bank, headed down to Lewis Camera Exchange in Scottsdale, AZ and bought myself the N90s with the add on vertical grip and a 50mm f/1.8 AF-D lens. As I recall, all in for this kit was about $1400. More money than I had ever spent on any hobby, ever. The N90s was a truly fabulous camera and it got me back into photography in a big way. I even built my dream darkroom in my suburban Phoenix home. But, as someone once said to me, life is a silly old bird and as the flat gray paint was barely dry on the walls of my new darkroom, my marriage began falling apart. The N90s, the cool and very large Omega Pro-Lab enlarger, print washer, tanks, trays and all my photography stuff was sold for pennies on the dollar to help pay for divorce lawyers.

2016 -- It took a decade for me to clean up and pay for my divorce. Ten years of mostly just survival. After relocating to California in 2010, the photography bug bit again. A Nikon FE2 I picked up on eBay started me on the third part of my photography journey. I'm enjoying this one the most. Digital photography has made once expensive and unaffordable cameras affordable.

This week, I dropped off a few rolls of Portra 400 for processing at my local camera shop. When I am there, I always check their used camera case. Sitting there on the top shelf, I saw an old friend -- a decent looking Nikon N90s with 50mm AF-D lens and vertical grip. Sale tag: $39.95. My what a difference 20 years make.

Out of my comfort zone: Street photography with the Leica M.

As a hobbyist photographer, I take pictures and fiddle with various cameras because it gives me pleasure, relieves stress, relaxes me, provides a creative release and is fun. Because I enjoy it, because it is fun, I do it often. The benefit of doing something often is that you get better at doing it. Your understanding of it and your skill at doing it improves. It's like exercise. If you enjoy walking and walk every day, your health will improve...unintended or not.

I think my technical skills have improved over the last six and half years. I'm getting better at seeing, composing, exposing. I'm feeling more confident in my ability to use the equipment properly. But I've mostly limited myself to a solitary pursuit of subject matter. I shoot landscapes, buildings, relics, interesting patterns, objects. And I take a lot of photos of my cameras and related accessories. I've avoided most photography which requires interaction with other people. The type of photography I've done so far is that which I find the most enjoyable, fun and...comfortable. And while there's nothing wrong with that, there is a part of me that admires photographers who can take great portraits or who are good at street photography. Because I've never found people photography or street photography fun, I've avoided it and have never grown my skills.

I wrote in an earlier post, that I bought my Leica M9-P as a learning tool. A digital platform to give me faster access to my images so that I could grow as a photographer. It occurred to me several weeks ago that the M camera and my 35mm Summicron was the perfect kit to venture out and try some street photography. Maybe I could practice some of the street photography skills I have read about and conquer my fear of photographing around people. 

The Leica M system really shines for this kind of photography. The small, light rangefinder would be easy to carry and the 35mm lens is the perfect focal length for shooting on the streets. I wanted my images to be in black and white and the M9 provides a very cool feature that allows you to create a black and white JPEG and a raw (DNG) color file at the same time.

I live just an hour from one of the great street photography cities of the world, San Francisco. So last weekend, I headed to the city, M9 in hand, a fresh SD card in the slot and an extra battery in my pocket to push myself out of my comfort zone. I cranked the ISO up to 1000 so I could shoot most everything at f/11 or 16. I used zone focusing for all of the shots in this gallery, making good use of the well marked depth-of-field scale on the top of the Summicron lens.

My hotel was in Union Square, so it was a short walk to Chinatown. At first, I settled into my old habit of avoiding people.

I became aware of a few things while shooting the Leica on the streets. First, there really is an advantage to using a rangefinder for this type of photography as you watch the world move into and out of your frame lines. In a way, the camera sort of becomes invisible, more an extension of your own seeing. I never feel this way shooting one of my 35mm SLRs. With my Nikon F2, for instance, I feel much more like I am looking at the world through a tube. There is also a bit more connection with what I am shooting using a rangefinder. I suppose it is because you are looking directly through the viewfinder at your subject rather than at an image reflected off the mirror of an SLR. Lastly, my vintage looking digital Leica rangefinder did not seem to intimidate anyone at all. I've tried this type of photography with my Nikons and my Contax RX SLRs and it seemed people were far more aware of those cameras. Or at least, that is how I perceived it. With a bit more confidence, I started shooting some people.

I watched this woman gazing at the food through this shop window for some time before she moved to the left side of the frame, which I thought made an interesting shot.

Just down the street, a busy fish market.

I lost my nerve while photographing in this alley. Just to the left, out of frame, three guys were huddled doing who knows what. The saw me with my camera and gave me a look that I read as "back off." I did, but grabbed this shot of some cool urban art before disappearing with my Leica in the crowd.

There was a parade of some sort. Too many people to get anything really good here. I clicked off several shots and liked this one best.

I am fascinated with the dark alleys and back spaces off the main streets in San Francisco. I'd love to come back and spend just a day shooting in these places.

I stopped and watched this woman folding old cardboard boxes neatly into the back of a truck for recycling I suppose. I tried to get a good shot of her, then a shot of her and the Transamerica Tower in the background and then a shot of her and her helper on the ground. It never worked out for me and towards the end, she noticed me and started waving me off. My only negative interaction of the day.

I made my way out of Chinatown, back towards Union Square. Couldn't resist stopping at the Leica Store and picking up a soft shutter release. In typical Leica fashion, it set me back $75. There were plenty of people milling about Union Square and along Powell Street as I made my way towards Market.

The sun was starting to set as I crossed Market to make my way back up Powell to Union Square. I clicked off this shot which like a lot.

I like the way the M9 renders in black and white mode and even at a high ISO setting, I don't think the images got grainy or gritty looking. And even if they did, for urban street photography, this might be just fine. Zone focusing, especially with the 35mm lens, worked just like I read it would, freeing up my attention to getting a good shot rather than worrying if I was in focus. With practice, this might even be faster than autofocus, at least on the AF cameras I have used. I can see why so many accomplished street photographers, past and present, use the Leica M. It's just a perfect tool for this kind of shooting. Most importantly, I had fun this day which grew my confidence level. 

On the way out of town, crossing the Golden Gate into Marin County, I looked up and the bridge towers were, as is so often the case, disappearing into the fog. When traffic slowed to a stop, I grabbed the M and shot this through the condensation of the front window of the car. It was a good day of photography.

Nikon's FUN Lens

I've probably had more fun using this lens than any other lens I own. It's also the lens I've made some of my most personally satisfying photographs with.

Around 1979, Nikon introduced the manual focus 55mm f/2.8 Micro-Nikkor Ais lens. It was an instant hit. In the Nikon world, "micro" and "macro" mean the same thing. This is a lens which serves double duty as a reasonably fast normal lens with the added benefit of being able to focus down to about nine inches. These lenses were being built by Nikon at the very pinnacle of their manual focus lens manufacturing process. Focus is smooth and sure, f/stops click into place perfectly. The 55 Micro-Nikkor is very, very sharp at most every aperture. It's so good, it was considered a benchmark lens at the time. There was even an autofocus version of this lens in later years.

This lens lives on my Nikon FM2n body most of the time and I feel confident taking it out for a day of photography without worrying about carrying another lens. F/2.8 is fast enough for most everything I do and if I happen upon a flower, spider web or some detail worth getting up close to, this lens does an amazing job. One of my favorite things to do is spool up a roll of film and shoot things around the house. Here are the keys on my Royal Quiet DeLuxe typewriter...

I bought an old 8mm movie camera at a flea market. Didn't realize it still had film in it. I should have checked first. Might have been interesting to see what was on it...

I found this buoy walking on the beach...

My Brownie Hawkeye...

A reflected selfie from my kitchen sink faucet...

My favorite whiskey. Obviously :-)

Rain on the window...

A classic camera...

Memories of some wines I've enjoyed...

My images would be even sharper if I mounted my camera on a tripod. All of these were shot handheld and sometimes with shutter speeds as low as 1/30th of a second. At some point, I really should put the camera on sticks and give this lens the opportunity to show what it can do. Honestly though, it's just so much fun grabbing the Nikon at the spur of the moment and shooting an ordinary household object up close. I'm always very satisfied when my shots come back from the lab.

I often hear people say things like "if I was stranded on a desert island with only one camera or one lens, this would be it." I don't want to be stranded on a desert island and it wouldn't be that much fun to shoot just one lens the rest of my life, but if I had to do it, I could probably keep myself occupied with the 55 Micro-Nikkor, an f-body that didn't depend on batteries and a big stash of TMax or Tri-X. If you shoot Nikon and want a versatile lens, get one of these. It's Nikon's FUN lens!

Knowing a place

Four decades ago, sitting in the public library in Endicott, New York, flipping pages in an Ansel Adams book of images from Yosemite, I remember wondering how a man could spend so much time in one place. Photographing one place. The concept of returning to a place over and over, during different seasons, of setting up a camera and waiting for the light to be just right, of maybe not even taking the photograph at all, packing up your gear and coming back again another day...these were all concepts I just could not get my head around. Not as a teenager. And only now am I beginning to understand "knowing a place."

Lake Tahoe had been on my bucket list of places to visit and photograph for as long as I can remember. When I lived in Arizona, I had a subscription to Sunset magazine. Every once in a while, they'd do a spread on Tahoe and I'd be fascinated with the images of the blue alpine lake with snow covered mountains in the background. After relocating to Northern California in 2010, Tahoe was closer, but I kept putting it off for another day. It wasn't until the HR director at work called to remind me of the alarming amount of unused personal holiday hours (I work too much) that were stacking up, that made me decide that I should take a long weekend and do something. Tahoe! I went online and found a hotel, packed an overnight bag, grabbed my Leica and headed up into the Sierras.

Climbing up I-80, I was excited about seeing a place for the first time and in making some satisfying photographs. I have been in somewhat of a creative slump recently and was convinced that this little trip would snap me out of that. A new place. Fresh air. Take lots of photos. As the road tumbled out of the trees and my car wound around the first curve that revealed the lake, I got that same feeling that one gets when a roller coaster hurtles you about a loop-de-loop. I felt it in my gut then head to toe. Lake Tahoe simply took my breath away!

For the next 24 hours, I was so splendidly amazed by the scenery that all I could to was just soak it in. Be part of it. Let it wash over me. And all I could take were...snapshots. Yes, snapshots. The kind of photos you take while vacationing with the family in WallyWorld. Here is my first one at the lake, taken from the beach, in front of my hotel.

It was too windy for lake activities that day. No kayak rentals. So I snapped the stacked up kayaks.

No one using the SeaDoos either...

As you might imagine, Lake Tahoe is a busy place on the weekends. The road around the lake was packed with cars, bikers and gawkers. There was some sort of marathon going on too, requiring me to watch carefully for runners on the road as I navigated my way from Incline Village to South Lake Tahoe. Cars, bikers, runners, a twisty two lane road all competing with amazing vistas. Visual overload! I stopped where I could, pulled over and took more snapshots.

Around the other side of the lake, Emerald Bay was supposed to be amazing. This section of the road requires 100% attention to the wheel--no shoulders and drop offs that could send you over a cliff. Most every available overlook was packed with parked cars. The few places I found to pull off the road didn't provide good places to see the bay or take a proper photograph. More snapshots, but they still reveal the majesty of the place.

I knew Squaw Valley ski area was not far away and on my way home, so I decided to stop there. Squaw Valley was the site of the 1960 Winter Olympics. A resort has grown up around the original Olympic Village.

There's a gondola that takes you from the Valley floor up to the top. It costs $44. That's a lot, but from where I was standing, it looked pretty awesome up there. It was and I am glad I spent the $44. I spent a few hours at the top, breathing the thin air at 8500 feet and clicking off some of my better shots of the weekend.

The entire Lake Tahoe area was simply gorgeous and my images really don't do the area justice. It was just too grand for me to take in all at once. The amount of visual data was overwhelming. I kept spinning around and shooting because I just wanted to photograph...everything.

Upon returning home, popping the memory card into the reader and scrolling through my images, I was disappointed in myself. I was hoping to make some great photograph in the Sierras and all I had were a bunch of vacation snapshots. Then I thought about Adams in Yosemite and I started to get it.  To make great photographs of a place like Tahoe or Yosemite or Yellowstone, you have to take your time and get to know a place. Go back. Again and again. Lake Tahoe was that amazing. Next time, I'll grab an extra day or two.

Remembering Peter Thomas

Off topic today, I want to pause and recognize the passing of a remarkable man.

Peter Thomas

Peter Thomas

His name may not be familiar, but if you hear his voice, you most assuredly will recognize the distinctive sound of Peter Thomas. Peter passed away this past weekend at his home in Naples, Florida. He was 91. Most recently, Peter narrated Forensic Files on TruTV. You can also hear his voice on episodes of the PBS series NOVA. He narrated documentaries, recorded promotional announcements for NBC News and did countless TV and radio commercials. Over the years, he also became my friend.

I met Peter while I was working at an advertising agency in Phoenix in the late 1980s. I was a young copywriter who had just been promoted to Copywriter/Producer. The promotion did not include a raise in salary, it simply meant that in addition to writing commercials, I now had the added responsibility of producing them as well. I had been given the assignment of writing a 60-second radio commercial for one of our clients, a local art museum. Our Creative Director had selected Peter Thomas to record the spot. Peter would record from a studio in New York City and I would direct him over the phone. I was told that Peter was a national voice talent and was charging a lot of money to do the commercial. And we were paying by the quarter hour for the New York City studio. Nothing like putting the pressure on a young advertising guy.

The copy included a number of Native American Indian names which were difficult to pronounce. I wrote them out phonetically on my script so I could effectively direct Peter. When the session started, I dialed into the New York studio. The session engineer answered the phone and told me he would begin to set up the "phone patch" which would allow me to talk directly to Peter through his headphones in the announce booth and direct the session. This was my first time doing any of this and I was plenty nervous.

The engineer introduced me to Peter. He asked me a few questions about the client, where the commercial would air and a few questions about me. Then he asked how I wanted the copy delivered. Geez...I really didn't know. This producing thing was harder than it looked. Peter sensed my inexperience and said "Why don't I give you a read or two and you can see if we're on target?" Peter read through the copy, in exactly 60 seconds I might add, and his delivery was amazing except...he mispronounced one of the Indian names. I walked him through the correct pronunciation and he asked if I wanted to give him any additional direction on his delivery? I thought maybe I should produce and direct a little but all I could think of was "purple mountain majesty" and I blurted out "How about a more mountainous read?" The engineer cut in "Mountainous? What does that mean? Peter? Mountainous?" Peter, sensing that I had no idea what the hell I was talking about or at the very least, could not communicate it clearly, responded "I think I know exactly what John wants here. Let's roll tape."

Peter recorded the spot again, pronounced the Indian name correctly and delivered the most majestical, mountainous, magical read possible. After the playback, Peter told the engineer that I was brilliant and that my direction was "spot on." Over the years, I have worked with less experienced, less talented voice over and on camera talents, who treated advertising agency people as a nuisance. Peter was one of the best in the business and he took the time that morning to make a young, inexperienced ad guy feel big and important. That was a defining moment in my career. And I never forgot it. The client, by the way, loved the spot and the campaign was very successful.

I worked with Peter many, many times over the years. Some of the projects were big and some were quite small. Even when I did not have a budget for national voice talent, if the campaign seemed perfect for Peter's voice, I'd call him. He would ask me what the client could afford and I'd be honest with him and Peter would do the work. No matter how much he was being paid, he was always professional, courteous, gracious and...amazing.

Peter served in World War II in five major campaigns including The Battle of Normandy and The Battle of The Bulge. He was issued a Battle Star for each of his campaigns and a Bronze Star and Purple Heart. He was married to Stella Barrineau Thomas, the love of his life, for 68 years until her death in 2014. 

A great voice has been silenced and I will miss my friend.

Here is a Peter Thomas narration if you care to check it out.

 

 

Why the Nikon F2 is my favorite camera.

I was a child in the 1960s, but I grew up in the 1970s. While I was aware of The Beatles, The Byrds and The Mamas & The Papas, I adored Boston, Fleetwood Mac, Steely Dan, The Eagles and The Doobies. The soundtrack of the 1970s is imprinted on me, indelibly. When I hear songs from the 70s, they still make me feel good.

The generation before me had The Ed Sullivan Show and Jack Paar. I had the Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour, Carol Burnett and Johnny Carson. The Tonight chair has changed ownership twice since Carson ruled late night, but those old clips on You Tube still make me laugh.

The women of 1970s rock-n-roll stirred the hormones of a young teenager, sitting on the floor of his Upstate New York bedroom, listening to their music on his Technics turntable. They're older, grayer and a little less petite today, but I still find Stevie Nicks and the Wilson sisters sexy.

I got my drivers license around 1975. The Arab oil embargo was in full swing. People were dumping gas guzzling muscle cars for pennies on the dollar, trading them in on Datsun B210s and Toyota Coronas. The 396 cubic inch 69 Camaro SS was within the reach of a high school kid with a little financial help from his old man and I wanted one! I settled for a tamer 302 cubic inch version in Kelly Green--but my old 69 Camaro remains my favorite car ever.

AM radio was still vibrant in the 1970s. Album rock on FM was up and coming, but AM Top 40 ruled the airwaves. With it's 50,000 watt clear channel signal, I could listen to New York City's Musicradio 77 WABC pretty clearly three hours away in my little upstate town. Harry Harrison, Ron Lundy and the amazing Dan Ingram were the jocks that me decide that someday, some way, I wanted to be on the radio too.

Didn't have an internet in the 70s. We read magazines. Popular Photography, Shutterbug and Modern Photography. Modern was the coolest of the three. Herb Keppler wrote great gear reviews with humor and passion. Couldn't afford a single camera he wrote about, but it didn't stop me from dreaming. That's where I first read about and drooled over the Nikon F2.

It was in the pages of Modern that I first saw ads like this one. This was the camera every young photo freak wanted in the 70s, but only pros could afford them. 

I was shooting with my Dad's Kodak Retina rangefinder at this time, developing and printing Tri-X Pan and Plus-X Pan in our basement darkroom. One Saturday afternoon, I needed more chemicals and convinced my Dad to take me to Tuthill's--the "big" camera store in Binghamton. They had a new F2 in the display case and I asked the salesperson if I could look at it. Knowing that I probably had scraped together my lawn mowing money to buy the D-76 and KodaFix I had in my hands, he humored me. Holding the Nikon F2 that day solidified forever in my mind everything a camera should be. Metal, glass, gears, substantial, designed and built by hand, long lasting. They say lots of things get imprinted on you when you are young. The F2 sure did that day and stayed with me a lifetime.

It would be four decades later before I actually owned an F2. After many life changes, I finally had some time and a little money and started looking online for a good, sturdy, easy and fun to use film camera.

I've owned and had restored about a half dozen F2 variants over the past few years. I've sold one to buy another and gave one away to my blogging friend Jim Grey, but most of them I still have. Use often. And smile every time I do.

You can read just a bazillion online reviews about how great this camera is. How photographers beat off muggers by hitting them with their F2s or how the camera survived after tumbling down a mountain. There are places where you can read in finite detail about the various finders that turn an F2 into an F2SB, F2S, F2A or F2AS. There's a passionate Facebook group and dedicated Flickr pages.

I too have written some posts, both here and on a previous blog, about the wonderful technical aspects of the F2. But as I purchased my seventh...I think...F2 a few weeks ago...I decided that maybe, just maybe it was time for me to throw out the bullshit flag. Sure, the F2 is a fine camera. A really fine camera. The reason I like it...ok...the reason I love it...is that it makes me feel good. Just like listening to Deacon Blues off of vinyl, watching an old clip of Johnny cracking up as a marmoset pees on his head, Stevie Nicks, Ann Wilson, muscle cars or remembering the echoing monster sound of WABC...holding and shooting a Nikon F2 just makes me feel good. And for me, that's good enough.

Thoughts on the Sekonic L-208 Twin Mate

I have been on a quest to find a small, pocketable light meter to accompany me on hikes and photo walks with my meter-less cameras. I got pretty close to what I wanted with an old Gossen Pilot I picked up on eBay. Nice and small, Easily fits into a pocket and light enough to wear around my neck all day and still be comfortable. The only issue with the Pilot is that the numbers on the calculator dial are pretty small. At my age, I need to wear +1.50 readers for close work and don't always have them with me in the field. Finding a small light meter with larger numbers would make life easier.

As wonderful as online shopping is, I do miss the ability to stroll into a retail store and hold something in my hand before I buy it. A call to my local camera shop revealed that they didn't stock any light meters, but could order me whatever I wanted. So online I went.

I stumbled across the Sekonic L-208 Twin Mate while browsing B&H Photo's Web site. Honestly, I am surprised that Sekonic still makes a simple, analog light meter. Scrolling through the various models that are offered, most every other one is digital and there's a trend now towards smartphone type displays on many of the pricier models. Reading the reviews, it appeared that the L-208 would be perfect: a simple, small and lightweight light meter. I ordered (about $100) and of course B&H delivered promptly.

I had no doubt that the Sekonic meter would perform as advertised. I have several larger Sekonic meters and they're all quite good. The big question, as I unboxed my new meter, was if the numbers on the calculator dial were larger than my little Pilot. As I held it in my hand for the first time without my readers--yes! I could see the settings clearly! Mission accomplished.

The L-208 is powered by a readily available CR2032 3 volt coin battery. You can measure both reflective and incident light by sliding the little diffuser on the front of the meter. Set your ISO on the face of the meter and press the little button. The red needle registers the amount of light. Turn the calculator dial until the green pointer and the red needle line up and read your camera settings. Simple. There's even a presentation of EV, which is nice when I shoot my Hasselblad.

meter.jpg

The one thing I do like about analog dial light meters is that you get a lot more information presented to you than a digital display or iPhone app. In the sample reading above, you can see all of the f/stop and shutter speed combinations that will give a proper exposure.

The L-208 comes with an adapter that will allow you to slide this meter on to the accessory shoe of your camera, but it would be pretty big and dorky on any of my small rangefinder cameras. As a small hand held meter though, it does exactly what I need and the numbers are big enough for my old eyes.

Clean, Lubricate & Adjust

For most every user of vintage film cameras, there comes a time when you might consider having your camera serviced, commonly referred to as a Clean-Lube-Adjust or C.L.A. Indeed, the prices of many old film cameras have reached the point where it may be cheaper to just toss one body and replace it with another.

There are circumstances, however, when a CLA makes good sense. Leica screw mount and mechanical M bodies are infinitely serviceable. I just received my M2 back from service by Youxin Ye in New England. My 50-year old M2 now looks and performs almost the same as it did the day it left the factory. Mr. Ye was prompt, communicated well, did great work and his prices were very fair. Leica cameras represent a substantial investment of cash at purchase, so having them serviced is a good idea. Well maintained Leicas typically outlive their owners.

Leica M2 prior to service. Note intact "L" seal indicating the camera has never ben serviced.

Leica M2 prior to service. Note intact "L" seal indicating the camera has never ben serviced.

I've had several Nikon F2 cameras serviced by Sover Wong in the UK. While the various F2 versions are fairly common on eBay and not terribly expensive, finding a decent one takes some doing. The Nikon F2 was a professional camera and many of them saw hard use and abuse. Once you've found an F2 that looks good and mostly works, sending it off to Sover means you'll have a camera that will perform up to original factory specs and last pretty much forever. Sover is legendary in the F2 world and sending your beloved Nikon off to him is an adventure. He emails photos of his progress during service, shows you what he is doing and why. He is prompt, professional and priced fairly. When your F2 is returned, you'll swear you are holding a brand new camera--he's that good!

Chrome body Nikon F2As. Both the body and the DP-12 finder serviced by Sover Wong.

Chrome body Nikon F2As. Both the body and the DP-12 finder serviced by Sover Wong.

Most every 1970s era SLR you'll find online or in the trade-in case at your local camera store will at least require new foam seals. I've found Nikon FMs and FEs that looked as good as new on the outside but with light seals that turn to dust upon touching them. Many times, the reflex mirrors in these camera will stick and owners think that their cameras are broken. In reality, the mirror bumper foams have turned to sticky goo and the mirror is simply stuck in the goo. Many local camera shops offer seal replacement services. My local camera shop does it for $30. You can also buy seal kits online for most cameras and do it yourself. It's not hard, but it does require good eyes and patience.

I've written in previous posts about how pleasantly surprised I was when I shot a Canon P rangefinder camera. Before Canon started building SLRs, they released an entire line of Leica copies using screw mount lenses. The P was made in the late 1950s into the early 60s. I really enjoyed using the P and while there was nothing really wrong with mine, I decided to show it some love and send it off for a CLA. Youxin Ye did my P at the same time as my Leica M2. The P came back smoother and quieter. Can't wait to shoot it again.

The Canon that changed my mind about Canons.

The Canon that changed my mind about Canons.

When I find an old camera that I enjoy shooting in it's "as-is" state, it doesn't take long before I begin to wonder about how it would feel to shoot that camera with everything working as it was when it left the factory. For the fairly modest investment in good service, I have been rewarded each time by cameras that are even more fun to shoot and that I know I can rely on in the field. 

 

Jack London State Historic Park

I visit Jack London State Historic Park near Glen Ellen, CA a few times each year. It's a nice quiet place with a diverse selection of hiking trails. This winter's El Nino storms have turned Northern California spectacularly green, prompting me to visit the park in March armed with my new Leica M9-P camera and Leica Summicron 35mm f/2 lens.

This part of the park is more remote than the well visited Beauty Ranch section. The trail here is somewhat of a workout. Towards the end of the hike, the pay off is Fern Lake. The sound of a stream emptying into the lake and the wind in the trees make this a wonderful place for a picnic of cheese, crackers and maybe a nice California Pinot Noir.

I am amazed by the variety of shades of green in this image, taken while resting and having my snack.

For most all of the six years I have lived here, the Sonoma County landscape has been stressed by lack of sufficient rainfall. This Winter's rains have made everything lush, green and quite beautiful. 

After a few weeks of shooting the digital M9-P, I am itching to shoot film again. A few months back, I mentioned I was going to send my Canon P rangefinder and Leica M2 off to Youxin Ye for a CLA. Both cameras are back. He did a fine job and I will be writing more about Mr. Ye and my CLA experience with him soon. 

For now, time to load some film into my "like new" M2. Back soon.

Ones & Zeroes

I've only owned a few digital cameras in my life. Both of them were Nikon DSLRs. The first one was a D70, I think. I bought it for work, to take photos of promotional events for clients. I sold it during the recession because...well, because I needed a few bucks. Years later, I traded some Hasselblad gear for a Nikon D700. I shot a few dozen snaps with the D700 and it made really nice images. I traded the D700 for a Leica film rangefinder.

A couple of things I've learned about myself as a photographer is that I don't like heavy cameras and I don't like fiddly cameras. Both of the Nikons were fairly bulky blobs of metal and plastic by themselves. Outfitted with a zoom lens, they got downright heavy to lug around all day. And the menus and settings and such on the Nikons meant far too much fiddling for me. I am not a Luddite. Not scared of technology. I manage more digital marketing platforms on my job than I care to count. However, when it comes time to relax and enjoy photography, I don't want to fiddle with menus or manage complicated settings. I want to go out and take some photographs. I suppose that's what I like best about old mechanical film cameras. They are simple tools. And they never get in the way.

I set a goal for myself this year to become a more competent photographer. Go back and study the basics. Shoot and learn. I also decided that I wanted to add a digital camera to my arsenal. I love shooting film, but there are some times when it would be great to go out, shoot, come home and look at my output right away.

I spent a lot of time online, looking at options. I knew that I didn't want to go the DSLR route, because of size and weight, even though I had some AF Nikkor lenses that would fit nicely. I could go in a different direction all together and get a Fuji or Sony body, but moving into a new camera system meant additional investment in lenses. I started thinking about the Leica lenses I had acquired and how much I enjoyed shooting the M cameras. How simple they were. How small and light. I knew I couldn't afford a new digital Leica, but there were used M8s and M9s and with some horse trading, I might be able to get a nice one without too much financial risk.

So that's how it came to be that with a few emails to my friend Ken Hansen, a trade and a bit of cash,  this Leica M9-P becomes only the third digital camera I have ever owned.

I plan to do a full review of this camera once I have driven her a few more miles. My first impression is that this is a camera that, for me, comes closest to the film experience in a digital camera. Very simple. Minimalist controls and menu. Small. Light. Wonderful feel in hand. Exceptional build quality. Very little fiddling. Compatible with all of my M-mount and LTM lenses.

A few hours after unboxing my M9-P, I headed out to the Sonoma County countryside and shot these images. Nothing spectacular, but I'm pleased with my first images from this camera.

I do like way the M9-P renders in black and white mode. Here's a monochrome selfie...

I plan to use the new digital Leica to learn and grow. Along side the chosen few film cameras I have, I hope I can become a better photographer in 2016.

Mission Carmel

Long weekend getaway in Monterey, Carmel-by-the-Sea and Big Sur--my first time ever on the Monterey Peninsula.

I packed lightly--Leica M2, Canon 50mm f/1.4 LTM, handheld meter and a brick of Kodak TMax 100 in my ONA bag. One of my stops was Mission Carmel. Established in 1771, it's California's most faithfully restored of all the missions. Working parish, museum and Catholic school for grades K-8.

This trip came at a perfect time. The end of 2015 was busy and stressful at work. I needed some rest and recharge time. It also got me thinking a bit differently about where I want to go with my photography in 2016. More on that and more from my wanderings around Carmel in the coming days.