Saturday, February 27, 2010

It's All About Focus - The Lensbaby Review by Dennis Hays

There is something almost primitive about the Lensbaby series of optics. The idea of a hands-on approach to selective focus is quite ingratiating and gives me a feeling of control. Almost from the minute I put the Lensbaby Composer on my Canon, I had an intuitive feel for its operation.

The Composer is the base lens of a system, where you change the optics to achieve various results. With the default double glass optic , you can move the front of the Composer, within its ball-and-socket axis, to adjust the "sweet spot" in any direction. This allows you to change the area of focus and force other areas softer. Once moved, the Lensbaby stays where you put it--there is no lock—it is secure to use for multiple shots or to point in any direction.


Lensbaby Composer with Double Glass Optic

Operating the Composer is easy. After putting it on your camera (it approximates a 50mm lens), twist the manual focusing ring to adjust the focus and then tilt the front of the Composer in any direction. This is a manual focus lens—there is no electronic connection between the lens and camera.

Changing the aperture is more involved than any other lens you have in your kit. You have to remove the double optic lens (or any of the other optics of the Optic Swap System) from the Composer body and replace the aperture disks This is the primitive nature I alluded to in the first paragraph. The aperture disks supplied with the Composer double-optic are: f/2, f/2.8, f/4, f/5.6, f/8, f/11, f/16, f/22.

All of the Lensbaby series of optics come with aperture disks and a magnetic tool to remove an existing disk. The tool has a built-in container to hold the unused aperture disks.

The Composer is not like a tilt-and-shift lens or a large format camera where you can extend the depth of field or adjust parallel line convergence. It has but a single purpose; to move the sweet spot within the angle of coverage.

Years ago, we used to take an old glass filter and gently put Vaseline over it, leaving a clear spot in the center. The Lensbaby is essentially a "dryer" form of this, albeit, with the ability to tilt the optics in any direction, while keeping the film plane parallel to the object.

As I said previously, the Lensbaby Composer is the base of the system. Using the top of the plastic case of one of the  Optic Swap System lenses , you remove the double glass optic and replace it with one of the other optics.


Lensbaby Composer with Fisheye Optic

I used the single glass optic , which simulates the optics found on an antique camera; the plastic optic that simulates the lens of a toy camera with a large amount of chromatic aberration; Pinhole and Zone Plate; Soft Focus Optic with which you can vary the amount of softness by replacing or stacking aperture disks; and the Fish Eye Optic with an ultra-wide 12mm focal length and 160 degree field of view.

Since all of these are part of a system using the same base device, when you purchase any of the other Optic Swap system units, you keep the versatile tilting base. None of the Optic Swap System connect to your camera's electronics; therefore, everything is manual--focusing, aperture adjustment and degree of softness.

 
Lensbaby Composer with Soft Focus Optic

To change any element, optic or aperture, you have to remove the optics and replace the optic and/or an aperture disk. This is not as simple as removing a lens from you camera and replacing it with another. Changing the Lensbaby requires some effort, so using any of the Optic Swap System items is not a spontaneous decision. You must think about the shot you want and not just set your camera on five frames a second and wave it about.

While some photographers, using the automatics of the digital SLR, may find using the Lensbaby cumbersome, I heartily disagree. The Lensbaby Composer and the rest of the Optic Swap System are a set of devices to help you acquire your artistic vision. You are not just capturing an event, you are painting a digital canvas.  

Lensbaby Zone Plate

Lensbaby Composer with Zone Plate Optic

The Lensbaby is not expensive and definitely worth considering, whether you are an amateur or professional photographer. The $270 retail price the of the Composer is within the means of both the professional and the hobbyist and the individual lenses from the Optic Swap System are also affordable (Single Glass Optic $34.95, Plastic Optic $34.95, Pinhole/Zone Plate $34.95, Soft Focus Optic $89.95, Fisheye Optic $149.95).

This is a different way of working and unlike any optics or lens available, therefore it safely sets its own niche. I found their best use in portraiture and still life, but I’m certain I have only touched the surface.

Lensbaby Composer Specifications

  • Available in mounts for Canon EF (EOS), Nikon F, Sony Alpha A / Minolta Maxxum, Pentax K / Samsung GX, Olympus E1 / Panasonic Lumix DMC cameras.
  • Double Glass (Multi-coated Optical Glass Doublet) included.
  • Focal Length: about 50 mm
  • Focus Type: Manual
  • Aperture Type: Interchangeable, magnetic aperture disks
  • Apertures: f/2, f/2.8, f/4, f/5.6, f/8, f/11, f/16, f/22
  • Minimum Focus: about 18" (45cm)
    Maximum Focus: infinity
  • Size: 2.25"(5.7cm) h x 2.5"(6.35cm) w / Weight: 3.7 oz (104.9g).
  • No electronic communication between the lens and the camera body.
  • Automatic light metering is possible by shooting in aperture priority mode for almost all digital and film SLR camera bodies except certain Nikon bodies including the D40, D50, D60, D70, D70S, D80, D90, D100, N50, N65, N70, N75, N80, Kodak 14N and ProN, & Fuji S1, S2, and S3.

Lensbaby Single Glass OpticSingle Glass Optic Specifications

  • 50 mm focal length
  • Uncoated double convex optical glass singlet
  • Shipped with clear plastic storage case
  • 1.75" (4.44 cm) x 1.37" (3.5 cm)
  • Compatible with the Composer, Muse, and Control Freak

Plastic Optic Specifications

  • 50 mm focal length
  • Uncoated double convex plastic singlet
  • Shipped with clear plastic storage case
  • 1.75" (4.44 cm) x 1.37" (3.5 cm)
  • Compatible with the Composer, Muse, and Control Freak

Lensbaby Pinhole/Zone Plate

  • 50 mm focal length
  • Pinhole: f/177
  • Zone Plate f/19
  • Shipped with clear plastic storage case
  • 1.75" (4.44 cm) x 1.37" (3.5 cm)
  • Compatible with the Composer, Muse, and Control Freak

Lensbaby Soft Focus OpticSoft Focus Optic Specifications

  • 50 mm focal length
  • f/2 to f/22
  • Multi-coated optical glass doublet
  • Magnetic disk aperture system
  • Degree of softness controlled by changing the aperture disks
  • Includes 3 special multi-hole soft focus aperture disks
  • Part of the Lensbaby Optic Swap System
  • Compatible with the Composer, Muse, and Control Freak
  • 1.93" (4.9 cm) x 1.93" (4.9 cm) x 1.34" (3.4 cm)

Lensbaby Fish Eye OpticFisheye Optic Specifications

  • 12 mm focal length
  • 160 degree field of view
  • Minimum focus: .5" (1.3 cm) from front of optic. Allows for extremely close focus (zero inches from the front of the optic) when used with the Control Freak.
  • Maximum focus: infinity
  • Six element multi-coated optical design
  • f/4 optic with aperture disks that range from f/5.6 to f/22
  • Shipped with clear plastic storage case
  • 1.89" (4.8 cm) x 1.89" (4.8 cm) x 2" (5.08 cm)
  • Compatible with the Composer. Special adapter required for Muse and Control Freak (sold separately).

Lensbaby web site: http://www.lensbaby.com

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

When the Teacher Becomes the Student

When I go out in public to shoot, people often approach me and ask questions. Many times the initial query is about my camera or lens. From there, however, the conversation can go anywhere and, invariably, the individual will share a personal anecdote or pose a question based on their own experiences.

Since I’ve already revealed to you that I’m an introvert by nature, you might think I would attempt to avoid such encounters. On the contrary, I’ve found that I’ve gained as much wisdom from these exchanges as I’ve imparted.

An Impromptu Tutorial

One Fourth of July evening, I set up a Mamiya 645 (film) on a tripod and waited for the local fireworks display to begin. As others in the crowd passed the time until the sparks flew, a number of them gathered around me to ask questions.

“Are you shooting for a newspaper?”

“What kind of camera is that?”

I noticed, as the people gathered, that some in the crowd became my protectors. They took it upon themselves to create a circle around me and my tripod, keeping others from bumping it or tripping over it as they passed.

This happened as if by magic — nobody said anything.

I got some good images that night and removed the film from the camera’s film holder. But I had to wait for the crowd to clear before going home.

That’s when one of my self-appointed protectors asked me how to shoot fireworks. He had a new camera and had wanted to bring it to the display, but he didn’t know where to begin.

An impromptu tutorial and question-and-answer session ensued. And somewhere along the way, the conversation began helping me, too.

As I thought through the answers I was providing this gentleman, I realized I would need to make some changes in one of my upcoming shoots.

Learning from Unlikely Sources

That’s the moment when the teacher becomes a student. The Socratic questions, in this dialogue, sparked some ideas and techniques I hadn’t considered, or had tucked in the recesses of my mind.

Even though I was holding court, so to speak, I was also learning something. That’s why these opportunities are golden — and should never simply be dismissed as a nuisance or inconvenience.

Obviously, you can find news and tutorials all over the Internet. You can go to trade shows with some of the best teachers available, and you can take courses in person or online.

But furthering your photographic education is not always through books, seminars and workshops. It can also come from the most unlikely sources — such as a chance conversation with a stranger.

[Appeared In Black Star on February 16, 2010 - http://rising.blackstar.com/when-the-teacher-becomes-the-student.html ]

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

For the Self-Confident Photographer, All the World’s a Stage

In a previous Black Star Rising post, I discussed overcoming self-doubt in client negotiations by tapping into a reservoir of confidence — the one you have earned by developing your talents as a photographer.

But an awareness of your technical abilities can only carry you so far. As photographers, we also face other challenges where our doubts and anxieties can undermine our success.

For me, one of these has been directing people on a set or in portrait situations.

I’m an introvert by nature. I abhor crowds. If I need to confront someone, I prefer e-mail if I can get away with it.

So to effectively handle the “people” part of my job, I have to remind myself of some advice I was given many years ago — back when I was an apprentice magician.

The Magician’s Apprentice

As a high school student, I studied magic. I liked manipulating cards and coins — and making things disappear, of course.

After practicing my tricks long and hard, I decided to join a magicians’ trade group. Part of the initiation was presenting a 15 minute show to the group’s members.

So, on a Saturday evening, I walked on stage and did my act.

I stunk.

Oh, the magic worked well enough — but my stage presence was awful. Almost in tears, I retired to the back of the room, while the membership continued with the initiations.

As I sat on a bar stool feeling sorry for myself, a diminutive gentleman named Joseph White climbed onto the stool next to me and started a conversation. He told me very candidly the areas of my act that needed work. He gave me advice on how to improve my body language and interaction with the audience.

Then he said something that has stayed with me.

He recommended that before my next performance, I should mentally throw a switch to the “on” position, gather myself and take possession of the stage.

“When you are on stage,” Mr. White said, “you should own it.”

Owning The Stage

To this day, when I’m working as a photographer, I’m “on.” I own the stage.

I focus on being assertive, on being efficient, and on acquiring the deliverables. I know I must speak up and, if necessary, project my voice and attitude to those around me.

Whether on a set, at a portrait sitting or at a wedding, you can only succeed if you are able to take control and master the situation. During a wedding, for instance, when shooting the family images, it’s your responsibility to “call the shots,” literally. With shot list in hand, you must move people around to make the most pleasing pictures.

If you don’t project a commanding presence (without being rude or arrogant), that part of the event will take longer and you will dampen the overall mood — particularly as it relates to you. Things will only get worse when you move on to the reception, where if you don’t assert yourself, the attendees simply won’t pay attention to you.

If you, like me, are an introvert, this may be all a performance — turning on an “on” switch. But it’s a critical part of your job.

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Thursday, February 11, 2010

The Three Phases of Camera Ownership

If you remember buying your first DSLR, you probably can also recall your thoughts and the research you did. You can graze the Internet, find most anything about any camera and read reviews before making a decision.

After finally making up your mind and paying for the camera, you wait for the delivery. Until the camera arrives, you have difficulty concentrating on anything else, except for package tracking.

There is a moment or two, between paying for the camera and taking delivery, when you wonder whether you made the right choice. Then, the camera arrives and, after taking it out of the box, you examine all the knobs, dials and menus.

The Honeymoon

The first phase of ownership lasts but a brief time — only a few weeks. You become acclimated to the placement of the controls and the fit of the camera to your hands. Initially, you shoot for the pleasure of photography and also to test the new addition.

As you meet other photographers and peers, you describe to them the merits of your new baby — shutter speed quick enough to capture a Higgs boson and video capture quality to make James Cameron proud — and everything you are planning to to do with the camera.

That’s on the outside. The inner photographer uses these facts and hyperbole to validate their purchase.

Cohabitation

Once you’ve used the camera for a while, it becomes an extension of you. All of the controls are right where you expect them to be, and the camera’s performance (hopefully) meets your expectations.

It’s here where you really determine whether this new camera is worth the money you spent. If your results show a smidgen of improvement over what you’ve done in the past, you attribute it to the new camera, of course.

You don’t consider that your personal photographic expertise might be improving, too.

On the other hand, maybe the images don’t show an improvement — and experimenting with advanced features consistently produces unacceptable pictures. You blame the camera. Sure, you saw examples when researching the purchase, but your images don’t compare.

That &%*#@ camera! All the advertising was just hype.

Could it be your failure to understand and learn how to use these new features? No, of course not. It’s the camera.

It’s always easier to blame the object and not yourself. If you ever hit your thumb with a hammer, it’s always “that &%*#@ hammer!”

Dissolution

Things have changed and you are ready to consider something newer — maybe somewhat more shapely or with added features. You are face to face with temptation; comparing a recently released camera’s sexy new features to yours produces a sense of seduction.

You step back and try to think rationally: Do you really need those new features? This is more tricky than it appears.

If your current photography has a clear and present need that gear might address, then, of course, the new camera must be considered. On the other hand, the lure of a new camera’s abilities can outweigh any sense of moderation.

In justifying the purchase, are you painting targets around arrows?

For some of us, spending money on a new DSLR is an expensive treat. For others, it’s purely a business decision. Either way, sometimes you just want a new camera — and that may be the only rationale you need.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Sometimes, Even the Best Lenses Need to Be Replaced

I’ve used cameras for most of my life, and I have really enjoyed what photography has brought me. This science and art requires attention to detail and ongoing maintenance. If you are serious about what you do, you probably spend many hours taking care of your gear. We know it’s important to keep dust off of our lenses and sensor, because any foreign matter degrades the quality of the image.

Recently, I noticed I was having some problems driving at night. Automobile headlights created a glare that made it difficult to see the road. I had also become quite light sensitive, to the point where even house lamps were difficult to look at. My night vision, which at one time was almost cat-like, now lacked contrast and detail.

As a photographer, I saw all of these changes in terms of cameras and lenses — and also from the perspective of an auto-hypochondriac.

A Feeling of Impending Doom

Yes, I suffer from “auto-hypochondria.” That is, whenever I’m driving my automobile, I tend to absently scratch or rub my neck or shoulders and find something I hadn’t felt before. Immediately, I believe it’s a death sentence.

More often or not, it’s an ingrown hair, a mosquito bite or other benign item. But there’s always a panicked minute or two when I feel impending doom.

So it shouldn’t surprise you to learn that upon realizing I had vision problems, my mind went directly to macular degeneration, retinitis pigmentosa and other sight-stealing diseases. Any one of those could mean the end of my love affair with photography.

I went to my eye doctor and shared my concerns. After an extensive series of tests, including dilation, he revealed his diagnosis: posterior subcapsular cataracts.

“Thank God!” I said with relief.

Like Sandpaper to the Lens

I was fortunate. Cataracts can be “fixed,” usually by removing the lens and replacing it with a plastic or silicon lens. So, while having cataracts is not good, it’s a darn sight better than degenerating vision, leading to blindness or worse.

The type of cataract I have is much like someone took sandpaper to the rear of my lens. Light hits that area and scatters; hence the automotive headlight glare. The cataract also reduces contrast, compresses the dynamic range and affects acuity.

My doctor told me that sometimes cataracts can be slightly yellow. Besides the light-scattering effect and reduction in night vision, I could have had the equivalent of a built-in yellow filter. This would have affected my personal “white balance” and impacted my editing and overall color judgment. In my case, however, this wasn’t a problem.

But my cataracts do affect my ability to look through the viewfinder, chimp the LCD and evaluate lighting. I have to dial down the LCD (both camera and computer), as the brightness increases glare and tires my eyes quicker.

Cataracts can manifest due to environmental conditions (chemical, ultraviolet or radiation), trauma, injury to the eye or even genetics. Age is also a factor. Most of us will get them, if we live long enough.

My doctor said there wasn’t any rush to replace my lenses, but that when I was ready, I would need to make an appointment with an opthamologist and have surgery.

I scheduled the appointment the next day.

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Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Don’t Let Self-Doubt Hold Back Your Photography Business

If you are a new professional photographer or new to a different photographic genre, you most likely have some doubts about your ability. It’s not only a common feeling, but quite worthwhile in personal development.

As you read about other photographers on the Internet, each one invariably sounds confident and quite assured. It’s difficult for most of us to undress our emotions in public view, so you won’t often come across others expressing their fear, confusion and doubt in online venues. But these feelings exist nonetheless.

And even when you think you have worked your way through your insecurities internally, speaking to prospects, clients and your peers can quickly bring them back to the surface.

The Birthday Party

Many years ago, when film was king and I was just starting out, I photographed weddings and events. On one such occasion, I acquired a new client wanting pictures of her daughter’s 13th birthday party. Mrs. Customer’s husband was a major real estate developer in Florida, and when I visited her home to sign the contract, I stepped into a palatial house and met the “queen.”

We seemed to hit it off fairly well, and she liked my wedding portfolio. By this time in my career, I had about 20 weddings under my belt, mostly middle income, small events. Mrs. Customer’s party was going to be the largest I had ever done.

A week after the event, I met with Mrs. Customer and showed her the proofs, so she could pick her album images and additional enlargements. Up to this point, everything had gone well.

She examined the proofs. Then, she looked me right in the eye and said they were unacceptable and she wasn’t going to pay for anything further.

“In fact,” she said, “I’m considering asking for the money I’ve already paid you.”

I must admit, at that time in my life, I wasn’t doing well financially. Sitting in front of Mrs. Customer at that moment, my first thoughts were of making the rent and paying my bills.

I also felt some doubt about the quality of the images. I was paralyzed as to what to say or do.

When you’re young and starting out, a little doubt, as I said, can be helpful in examining your images and furthering your craft. However, once you’ve gained some experience — even if you are switching to a new genre, such as from sports to portraits — you should have a basic confidence in your ability to get the shot. Self-doubt remains a natural response to new challenges, but usually only until you’ve planned the project and created shot lists.

Of course, at any point in your career, there is no better litmus test of your self-confidence than in how you deal with recalcitrant customers.

Turning the Tables

Sitting across from Mrs. Customer, in her palace, I thought I was at a disadvantage. I needed the money, and somehow I had to salvage the situation. My mind quick-fired thoughts, while my hands sweated and, for a minute or two, I didn’t say anything — because I couldn’t think of anything.

Mrs. Customer sat back in her chair — we were sitting at her kitchen table — and stared at me.

What I hadn’t considered, until that second, was how well my previous work had been accepted by others, and the praise I’d received from clients and friends. That one thought gave me the direction I needed.

Silently, I gathered the proofs together, put them into their envelope, slid the envelope into my briefcase and got to my feet. With a firm voice, I thanked Mrs. Customer for her candor and turned to leave.

Before I got to the front door, she asked me what I was going to do with the proofs.

I turned in her direction and, in a non-threatening manner, I told her I was sorry she didn’t like them and that I was taking them back to my office. If I didn’t hear from her within 10 days, I would destroy them.

I had remembered my father telling me, many years ago, to always negotiate as if your wallet were full. Mrs. Customer was attempting to get a substantial discount by denigrating my work, even though she had contracted to pay for everything. When I realized all my other clients had been satisfied with my photography, I knew at that second that Mrs. Customer was trying to “play” me.

Although she and I had some further discussion along the lines of her offering me a low-ball figure, I was in the moment, not worrying about my financial situation or the future. I had negotiated at the beginning and Mrs. Customer had accepted.

Realizing the current discussion wasn’t productive, I thanked her for her time and left.

A day later, Mr. Customer called me, and we were able to resolve the situation. I met with him and his wife at a local restaurant to select the images we needed to finish. There were no discounts, and Mrs. Customer was quite nice (she even offered to pick up the check for dinner).

Inside all of us are dynamic thoughts and emotional processes, including those attempting to cast doubts. If you are aware of your work and know that it is good, that should be your guide. The tides of human emotion always change, but your body of work should sustain perspective.

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