A year of LensRentals

For 364 days this year, I didn’t buy a new camera.

It’s not that I didn’t want to. I misplaced my Canon S100, which I enjoyed using. And my other digital system is a Panasonic G1 with a small collection of Micro Four-Third lenses. I like the G1, but it’s over five years old, which may as well be fifty in digital sensor years. It’s time to move on.

However, for a variety of reasons, I’m having trouble deciding what should take its place. And because you can only learn so much from reading reviews online, I’ve been leaning on Lensrentals all year to get more hands-on experience with a wide variety of gear.

What follows are some brief impressions of all the toys I played with in 2013.

Before starting, I’ll fully own up to dilettantism here. A week or two is not nearly long enough to truly judge any camera or lens, particularly with how I was flitting about between brands and formats. And the smarter use of my time would be to just use the stuff I already own. But it can also be quite a bit of fun—even inspiring—to try something new or uncomfortable every now and then. And it (usually!) doesn’t hurt to know what else is out there.

This is also something of a fool’s errand as exciting new cameras are being released faster than I can try them all out without quitting my job or selling my dog.

Finally, Google overlords be damned, I’m not putting any hyphens in product names. I’ve had to look up where they go in “OM-D E-M5” or “X-Pro1” for more often than I'd prefer to admit. It’s gone too far. I’m tired of it. I’m fighting back.

Zeiss ZM C Sonnar 1.5/50

What Matthew said.

I’m having a bit of a love affair with 50mm at the moment, and this may be the most romantic 50mm lens you can buy.

I didn’t spend nearly enough time with this one.

(Although, in my heart of hearts, I think I might be more of a 2/50 Planar type of person.)

Panasonic G5

I went long about the G5 on this very site and concluded:

The G5 checks a lot of boxes but it does so without a lot of pizazz, like an above-average PowerPoint from the accounting department.

Michael Johnston recently called it “very capable but quite bland but very capable”, which is exactly right.

The newer G6 appears to address some of my nits with the G5: the EVF got an update, you can finally (I’m told) disable the toggle button on the command dial, and the camera’s updated look is snazzier – like a mini Leica S2 instead of Frankenstein’s camera. It doesn’t look so much like the bargain that it is.

If you want an EVF and the cost of an EM5, EM1, GH3, GX7 or EP5+VF4 is a bit dear, the G6 looks like a screaming deal.

Fujifilm X100S

The adulation this camera receives is mostly justified. It looks great, feels great, and the autofocus, menu system, and control layout are light years ahead of the original X100.

Image quality is astonishing. I spent a lot of time in Lightroom gobsmacked at the detail and lack of noise at ISO 6400. The 35mm equivalent f/2 lens is well matched to the sensor. It’s also more or less my ideal walk-around setup, but that’s maybe because I’ve been walking about with a Zeiss Ikon and the 2/35 Biogon for a few years.

The aperture ring has firm whole-stop clicks that feel much nicer than the mushy third-stop clicks on the 35mm XF lens I used.

As with the XPro1, fumbling between viewfinders is still a point of friction for me. I had more fun if I forced myself to use only one and lived with its limitations. I’m also certain that with more experience I’d better be able to predict when I’m about to brush up against those limitations.

I lusted after this camera so badly … right up until I tried a Ricoh GR.

Fujifilm XPro1 & Fujinon XF 35mm f/1.4

I wrote a longer review of this pair. I'd call it tough but fair.

I would like to give the XE line a try; with only an electronic viewfinder my suspicion is that the XE will be slightly easier to use—if slightly less fun without the optical viewfinder, also.

Olympus OMD EM5

I understand why people adore this camera.

It’s a lot of camera packed into a tiny space. The pictures online can mislead you into thinking it’s the same size as any other DSLR, but hold one for yourself and you’ll probably be as astonished as I was.

The specs are great. The pictures are wonderful. The new stabilization system is a miracle worker. You can customize nearly every aspect of its operation. Everything is super responsive, with a “yessir!anythingyouwantsir!” zippiness. It’s built like a fine precision instrument: quality and choice of materials is top-notch everywhere.

Again, I totally understand why people love the little thing.

But …

(here come the emails)

… together with our oversize brains, our hands have kept us humans on top of the food chain for two million years. So it is with some alarm that I report that our hands have a new enemy: the OMD EM5.

I could not get comfortable holding it. I don’t mean it like “well the corner pokes a little” (it does) but rather much worse: it outright hurts to hold it for longer than a minute. I didn’t find the textured area on the front sufficiently grippy, the thumb rest forces your hand into a cramped position, and it’s an awkward reach to both command dials, especially the rear one. The angles are just all wrong for my hands.

(Your mileage on this will vary, but I was relieved to find out that I’m not the only one that feels this way.)

The HLD6 add-on grip helps some. But if you determine that you’ll need the grip, you might as well buy an EM1. You’ll even get a bigger, more awesome viewfinder as a bonus.

All this to say: definitely spend a decent chunk of time holding an EM5 (or any camera!) before you drop a grand on one.

Panasonic GX7

My initial impression is that this is the current Micro4/3 sweet spot in balancing handling, advanced features, customizability, performance, image quality, size, and price.

I still want to take the GH3, EM1, and maybe a G6 for a spin, but unless they really impress me I think the GX7 will be the next system camera I buy.

Pentax K5 & 35mm f/2.8 Macro Limited

I wasn’t sure such a camera existed: the K5 has all the physical controls I want in exactly the place I want them.

This includes the Pentax-specific “Green”/“*” button, which powers the ridiculously named but seriously powerful Hyper-Program and Hyper-Manual modes. Lemme tell ya: every semi-serious photographer should take those modes for a spin. Hyper-Program is your basic Program mode but with instant access to Aperture Priority or Shutter Priority, no mode dial required; Hyper-Manual gives you the stability and predictability of full Manual mode but with vastly less needle-chasing. Either might totally change how you shoot. I can’t believe other brands haven’t copied these.

The camera is solid, heavy, and reassuring for those times when you need a bigger dick to swing around. But it’s still a soft touch: the shutter and mirror are shockingly quiet for a DSLR.

As for the 35mm Macro, no one makes DSLR lenses like the Pentax Limiteds anymore. It backs up the forged good looks with excellent image quality and almost no flaws. It even has a built-in hood, which is handy. Shame it’s not weather-sealed to match the camera.

This mostly confirms my suspicion that Pentax makes the only APS-C DSLRs worth looking at.

Ricoh GV2 28mm viewfinder

It’s tiny! But I had difficulty seeing the entire frame with glasses on. So it’s not very fun.

Also you’re missing out on the toy-camera good looks of the larger GV1 viewfinder.

Pass.

Ricoh GR

Matthew’s recent ongoing praise is not even a little out of line: The GR is the smartest, best thought-out digital camera I’ve ever used. It treats an advanced photographer with respect instead of ambivalence or (too often!) hostility. Because I haven't used any of the GR's predecessors, I'm so astonished at the design and usability that the huge image quality packed into a tiny box is almost the least impressive thing about it.

A major flaw is that I don’t think I see well with a 28mm-equivalent lens. I could learn.

In fact, I better: I ordered one for keeps on New Years Eve and it showed up yesterday.

Carl Zeiss 50mm f/1.5 C Sonnar

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: There's no middle ground on this one.

The Long Version: Carl Zeiss makes good lenses. In the same way that exceptional photographers can create wonderful photographs that would look like mistakes if they came from a novice, Zeiss has intentionally broken the rules. They could have created a technically perfect 50mm lens, but instead they chose to let this Sonnar be a different kind of beast.

This isn't just another lens. The M-mount C Sonnar T* 1,5/50 ZM is almost the exact opposite of the Zeiss 2/35 Biogon that I reviewed last month. The 35 is descriptive and impartial, while the 50 is stylish and opinionated. The Biogon's crisp technical abilities are normally reserved for telephotos, but the only 'mainstream' lens that I can compare the arty C-Sonnar to is Canon's 50/1.2L. It's fussy, temperamental, and demands a lot from the photographer. This isn't just another version of the typical 50mm lens any more than a fiddle is just a sexy version of a banjo. It needs to be used a different way.

But when it's wide open the ZM 50/1.5 lens looks like nothing else I own.

The key to the 1,5/50 C Sonnar is its uncorrected spherical aberration. Light from the periphery of the lens slightly misses focusing on the film plane, diffusing the peak crispness that photographers generally look for. Widely considered to be A Bad Thing, spherical aberrations are usually squashed by modern lens designs.

The spherical aberration of the "C-stands-for-Classic" Sonnar makes it behave radically differently when it's wide open versus the smaller apertures of f/5.6-16. Stopping down cuts out the light from the periphery of the optics, and turns the C-Sonnar into a typical lens with very good resolution and consistent sharpness. Wide open, or close to it, there's a gentleness to its images that becomes very apparent with high-contrast edges. The result is almost a mild soft-focus effect, giving images from the 50/1.5 a certain gentleness. That's one of two excellent reasons to use this the lens at f/1.5.

Another effect of spherical aberration is a darling trait called "focus shift". This means that the plane of sharpest focus moves farther away as the aperture is stopped down – the lens simply doesn't focus in the same place at f/1.5 as it does at f/8. So in addition to the margin of error within the rangefinder camera and user error – the typical source of focus issues – there's also a bit of willfulness in the lens to deal with. Naturally, focus shift is most significant at close distances in addition to changing its severity according to the aperture, so there's no automatic formula to compensate for it.

But in practice focus shift is easy enough to tame; I learned what I needed to know from the Photoschool review of this lens and about five minutes of practice. Simply focus at the first part of the subject that needs to be sharp(ish) and expect the DOF to fall behind that point, rather than depending on the usual 1/3-2/3 distribution to catch things in front of the focus point. While focus shift never goes away, it moves back more slowly than depth of field increases, so that trick's effective at any aperture.

My ratio of out-of-focus images is the same as with my 2/35mm. I don't use the 1,5/50mm at apertures between f1.5-5.6 unless I absolutely have to; I'm not exactly afraid of them, but within that range the lens is neither fish nor fowl. I know exactly what it looks like at f/1.5 or at 5.6 and smaller, and those two options have such distinct results that choosing between them isn't a tough decision. I also avoid using this lens at very close range, where the shift can be problematic, because the bokeh/OOF blur isn't particularly wonderful. Problem(s) solved.

But remember that focus shift isn't a defect, and there's no point complaining about it when the underlying spherical aberration is the raison d'être for the lens. There's no need for the nonsense of finding a "good copy" of a Zeiss 1,5/50 or Canon 50/1.2L. Would-be photographers who "test" these lenses by photographing internet printouts at close range – typically hand-held – simply don't understand what they're buying, and should look elsewhere for something to spend their money on. There are plenty of more suitable options: The Zeiss 2/50 Planar, Canon 50/1.4, or perhaps a nice collection of fancy goldfish.

One historical characteristic of the Sonnar design is flare resistance, and the addition of modern coatings doesn't hurt. This photo (larger) is stopped down to f/16, the C-Sonnar's minimum, while the first photo in this review (larger) was wide open. While the f/1.5 shot looks like it has veiling flare, I suspect that the effect is actually the bright sun being diffused by spherical aberration. The photo that's fully stopped down lets us count the aperture blades (ten, two lost in the bright sky) but doesn't show any ghosting. I would love to hear the thoughts of the many people who know more about this than I do, but for my purposes I won't hesitate to include a bright light within the image as long as the lens is clean.

Using the Sonnar as a low-light lens would make excellent use of its flare resistance, but all of its wide-open aperture considerations still apply. Sometimes the extra 'sonnar glow' is helpful, and can have wonderful results, but the fast aperture isn't enough to make it an automatic choice for available-light photography. I'm just as likely to choose the 35/2 Biogon, which can be hand-held in the same light, but starts with the presumption of sharpness. As with every occasion to deploy the 50/1.5, it's important to use it for the things that it will be good at. Just because Carl Zeiss's marketing department calls this a "Fast and Compact Photojournalist" lens doesn't make it true. They also say that the "C" designation simultaneously stands for Classic and Compact, and by rangefinder standards only one of those is true.

And because I can't let an entire lens review go by without mentioning it, I have to say that I can see barrel distortion in these street photos. Look at the building column on the right side, the one that has the 'don't walk' hand in front of it: the effect is subtle this far from the picture edge, but the top and base of the column aren't going in the same direction. Most reviewers would say this is "not field relevant" while I'd usually care quite a lot about it. But even for me, it seems churlish to love the 1,5/50 because of a huge uncorrected aberration but then fault it for another minor one. This is not a lens for technicians, it's for artists – both the lens and I are outside of our usual realms when we get together, so some accommodations need to be made.

Physically the 1,5/50 is similar enough to the 2/35 that I need to look at the numbers to know which lens is on the camera when I pick it up. The smaller frame through the viewfinder means that the 50 doesn't intrude much into the scene, but its slightly greater girth means that it takes a different bayonet-mount hood. Zeiss's lens caps remain their own corporate humility block, so I use a micro 'hood hat' to cover my lens when it's not in use. Following Lee's suggestion in a comment on my 2/35 review, I've also found that a Nikon 62mm lens cap clips onto the front of the hood quite nicely.

It's worth noting that the 50/1.5 has a Leica-friendly (and Rockwell-approved) 46mm filter thread, which also matches my Panasonic 20/1.7, rather than the 43mm that the 2/35 and 4/85 use. I don't use 'protective' filters – those who do shouldn't be switching them from lens to lens anyway – but it would have been nice to be able to use one set of colour contrast filters across all of my Zeiss lenses. Still, buying a 43mm yellow-orange for my architectural 2/35 and a 46mm red-orange for my pictorial 1,5/50 isn't a huge sacrifice in exchange for having the lens be exactly the size it needs to be.

As with all Zeiss lenses, aperture control is in thirds-stops, with the exception that there's only one intermediate stop between 1.5 and 2.0. The unusual f/1.5 aperture is really just a marketing echo of the 1930's design; the 2.4mm difference between the theoretical f/1.4 and f/1.5 is my opportunity to finally use the classic reviewers' phrase "not field relevant". The actual reduction in light transmission is less than what lenses with more elements or inferior coatings can lose, and only cinematographers really need to care about that.

I confess that I'm smitten by the 1,5/50, and I should be the last person to fall for such an intentionally 'artistic' lens. I'm clinical in my photos and cynical in my opinions, with no patience for mysticism and mystique with my dozen cameras. I don't do portraits. But I'm also not obsessive about sharpness and bought my film rangefinder specifically for its timeless character and exceptional lenses. With an optical design that's inspired by the best from eighty years ago, the Sonnar is the closest expression of that goal that doesn't need to be bought on eBay and then sent for a CLA.

While I'm generally opposed to the idea of needing a special effect validate a photo, using the Sonnar wide open can create an image worth taking. The effect isn't Flickr-obvious, and looks nothing like something smeared or stretched in front of the lens, but the gentle rounding of the photos adds a certain something in colour or monochrome. It's not suitable for every subject, of course, but stopping down to f/5.6 gives a lens that's as crisp as anyone could need. I'm guilty of using a three-stop ND filter in daylight, which lets me use the entire aperture range and choose which temperament I want the lens to display.

If the idea of buying a lens that's soft wide open and hard to focus accurately doesn't make much sense, don't do it. The Classic Sonnar is a lens that most photographers shouldn't buy, but there may be a few people whose eyes will be sparkling at the thought of having one of these to play with. Many of those people will already have rangefinder cameras, or at least I hope they do, because this is a rare and special gem that we're lucky to have. It's absolutely not a commodity lens and it's nowhere near the marketing dream of the minimum acceptable standard. Instead it's an example of the artistry within lens design, and must have been designed simply for the sake of creating something wonderful.

If the 2/35 Biogon was the reason why I bought the Zeiss Ikon rangefinder, then the 1,5/50 C-Sonnar is its ultimate justification. Like the 2/35, it gives me qualities and capabilities that simply aren't available elsewhere. Completely opposite capabilities, at that – how often can two similar-seeming lenses, that handle perfectly as a set, and have such well-suited focal lengths, provide such a range? The Carl Zeiss 50mm C-Sonnar is far from a perfect lens, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

last updated 8 nov 2011

Carl Zeiss 35mm f/2 Biogon

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's available in black or silver.

The Long Version: Not many people in 2005 would have thought that the world needed another f/2.0 35mm lens in Leica's M-mount, but then some people thought that the iPhone wouldn't be that big of a deal. You can't always trust the pundits.

The Carl Zeiss 2,0/35mm – to use their preferred sequence – uses their Biogon design which marks a mostly-symmetrical wide-angle lens. It's an M-mount lens, meaning that it fits on Leica and Voigtländer rangefinders in addition to the current Zeiss Ikon. Made with 9 elements in 6 groups, this rear-focus design simply isn't possible for cameras that use a reflex mirror. The similar-specified 35mm f/2 lenses in Nikon and Canon mount use the Distagon design, and are radically different lenses.

Film rangefinders have a couple of advantages over digital SLRs. Their lenses can sit much closer to the film plane, making for simpler and smaller designs, and film doesn't really care what angle light hits it at. Falloff is reduced, chromatic aberration is minimized, and blooming is outright impossible. So when I decided that I wanted a high-quality system that would take me off of the digital photography upgrade train, the Zeiss 35mm f/2 lens was my perfect stop.

"Flawless" is a difficult word to use, because there's always an exception. Indeed, the Zeiss 35/2 Biogon does vignette rather heavily when wide open, and it's still sometimes visible at f/2.8. There are brighter 35mm M-mount lenses out there, and there may be sharper ones, not that it matters. What the 35/2 offers is even rendering and phenomenally low geometric distortion that's better than any other wide-angle lens, and among the very best of any focal length.

For the photo above – see it larger – the lens is wide open and focused on the metal gate, about five or six feet from the camera. There is some falloff at the edges, which is easy enough to remove if the negative is scanned by one of those newfangled computers, although any wide-angle scenic photo that's ruined by vignetting probably wasn't very good in the first place. But look at the line in the tile at the very bottom of the frame. I wouldn't dare to use that composition with most telephotos.

It's quite exceptional to have a 135-format lens where film flatness becomes the largest source of geometric distortion. To really absorb the very best from the Zeiss 35/2 needs either a digital sensor or a scanner that can hold the film under glass. That makes it one of just a handful of small-format lenses that really deserves to have its film put through a drum scanner, much like my Hasselblad and Fuji medium-format equipment. That's pretty lofty company. My Nikon Coolscan V is very good generally, but sometimes I'll re-scan my negatives after they've spent some time under a good book.

The 35mm focal length is a classic for rangefinders and street photography. The Biogon has the technical perfection that's typically reserved for telephoto primes like the CZ ZM 4/85, but without losing the wonderful sense of space that only a wide lens can give. It has consistent sharpness across the frame, giving a beautiful and consistent rendering even as subjects fall out of the depth of field. While many people – perhaps three or four total, but all prolific internet writers – are passionate about "good" or "bad" bokeh, the only OOF characteristics I really care about are "offensive" or "inoffensive". The 35/2 is certainly inoffensive in a way that will look completely natural to photo-viewers even though it may not excite certain photo-takers.

In my experience, the more sophisticated and experienced a photographer becomes, the more they gravitate to simple lenses that behave nicely without any special effects. Primes instead of zooms, modest sizes and apertures, and no extreme focal lengths. The good news is that anyone who's likely to be offended by my saying that probably won't have read this far into a review of such a classic lens.

Physically the ZM 35/2 is large for a rangefinder lens, but smaller than an equivalent for a reflex camera. The body of the lens does intrude slightly into the frame at all focusing distances. The lens barrel is entirely made from metal, and it focuses from 0.7 meters to infinity with slightly over a 90 degree twist. It has a 43mm filter thread and is topped off by the standard-issue Zeiss lens cap, which is abysmal. Come to think of it, the ZM tail caps aren't all that great, either.

The 35/2 shares its hood – sold separately, $84 each – with the 50/2 Planar, and it's a ventilated metal reverse-slope design that attaches to a bayonet around the exterior of the lens. It needs to be removed to attach filters, and can't be reversed for storage, although it's so small that space is hardly an issue. Rangefinder hoods are a personal matter, but I prefer the look of the camera with the hood attached, and there are some incidental flare-prevention and protection duties as well. Most importantly, it stops the camera from tipping forward when it's put down on the table at Starbucks.

I suspect that Zeiss doesn't really intend for people to actually use their caps. One huge upgrade that I made with my 35/2 is to replace the lens cap with the micro-size hood hat, which gives better protection from damage and is much harder to forget about. One rite of passage with a rangefinder is to take a photo with the lens cap still on. On an aperture-priority camera like the Ikon this results in an extremely long exposure, which is usually enough to announce the mistake. On a fully manual camera, especially one without a built-in meter, the all-black frames can go on for quite a while.

An aspect of the rangefinder culture that amuses me is that "Made in Japan" can be treated like a derogatory label. Nikon users endlessly quest for cameras and lenses made there, but with the Zeiss lenses it's used to mark them as somehow inferior, or inauthentic, compared to products made in Germany. It must be based on that fine German tradition of quality automotive craftsmanship. I can't say that I've noticed any quality differences between my Zeiss lenses and the Leicas that I've used, but I'll update this section if someone ever looks at one of my photos and says "it's too bad your lens only has ten aperture blades instead of eleven."

The Carl Zeiss Biogon T* 2/35mm ZM – to give its full name, including university degrees, for the benefit of the search engines – just gets out of the way of the photographer. I don't think I've ever heard anyone call it "dreamlike" or use any other mystical terms to describe it; while that kind of lens can be quite nice this simply isn't one of them. With its neutral angle of view and its optical fidelity, it's about as far from a Lomography camera as you can be while still using film. But for those who may worry that the technical excellence of the lens might somehow compromise its artistic ability, rest assured that there's always vignetting.

The Zeiss 35/2 is the main reason why I bought my ZM Ikon. There's simply no match for it, not from other rangefinders or in other formats. The lens and camera suit each other perfectly, and offer something genuinely different from the parade of DSLRs that become obsolete every two to four years. Yes, the Ikon and 35/2 cost as much as the currently-heavily-discounted Canon 5DmkII and 24-105 lens, but it's the battle of the ephemeral commodity with a modern – yet timeless – classic. This is a lens that's worth stepping off of the upgrade path for.

last updated 8 oct 2011

Carl Zeiss f/4 85mm Tele-Tessar Lens

Concept:  2 out of 5

Execution:  3 out of 5

Yeah, but:  It fills a need.

The Long Version: There are certain things that you can assume with a Carl Zeiss lens, and despite its relative affordability, there's not much point putting the loupe to negatives shot with the 85mm tele-tessar. The calculated MTF (pdf) is without reproach, there's about one stop of falloff in the extreme corners when wide open, and it has so little geometric distortion that I can't tell if it's barrel or pincushion. There's never been a time when I wished for better optical performance from the lens, either on my film ZM Ikon or with my GH1 on an adapter.

do you know…?

My photography typically isolates details from flat surfaces, so the lens characteristics that matter most to me are geometric fidelity and even sharpness across the frame. I'm not particularly concerned with 'bokeh' or the ability to render a shallow depth of field, and typically use the smallest aperture that will give me an adequate shutter speed. Please keep in mind that the clinical and impersonal photos that I like to take affect my perspectives: if you, gentle reader, are a classical portraitist or a spontaneous street shooter, your needs are different from mine.

I rarely write disclaimers for my reviews, but I have to say upfront that this isn't an overly glowing report despite the unquestionable technical excellence of its subject. I do really like using the lens and seeing its results, but the 4/85 just isn't a landmark lens. It doesn't make or break the system; I doubt that anyone has ever bought a rangefinder just so that they can use it. It's certainly no 35-100mm f/2, which remains the single best reason to own an Olympus SLR. I'd miss the tele-tessar quite badly if it was gone, as it's an excellent Carl Zeiss lens, but it's not one that I can be passionate about.

tractor beam

By rangefinder standards the 4/85 is a fairly large lens. It projects three inches from the front of the camera without the hood, and hits 4.5" when that $84 accessory is added on. The hood creeps into the frame lines when the lens is focused down to three metres, but even when focused to its minimum 0.9m it only lightly blocks a corner of the active frame. Without the hood the lens stays clear of the frame at any focusing distance. The perfectly cylindrical hood attaches with a bayonet, leaving the 43mm threads clear for filters, and while it does fit over the lens backwards the hood doesn't lock into place when it's reversed. The lens and hood are both metal and are beautifully built, but Zeiss lens caps are unquestionably the worst I've ever seen.

The 85 f/4 has a focusing scale with depth of field marks for f/8, 16, and 22. Because of the length of the lens, the focusing collar is quite generous, but it lacks the nub that most ZM lenses have. The aperture indices are a long way away at the front of the lens, but the entire inner barrel of the lens rotates to make setting the aperture quite convenient. This is typical for a ZM lens, although having almost an inch of smooth barrel between the focusing collar and the front of the lens makes it very noticeable.

Fire, 3 Jan 2011

It's easy to tell when forum discussions and opinions about the 85mm tele-tessar were written. If there's a lot of enthusiasm, then the discussion started right after the initial product announcement. If there's gnashing of teeth and rending of garments, then it came after the f/4 maximum aperture was revealed. If a thread is full of people suggesting other lenses when someone asks about the 4/85, then it's contemporary. The thoughtful and practical assessment that usually comes with experience is almost entirely absent. It seems like almost nobody actually owns one of these lenses – my serial number ends in "002", and sometimes I wonder if they're selling them sequentially.

I do have a certain empathy for those who dismiss the tele-tessar because it's a 'slow' lens. My favourite colour film is Kodak's fidgety iso100 Ektar, and the f/4 aperture means that my shutter speed can get into trouble just by photographing into shadows on a sunny day. Using XP2 at iso 320 is better, but when I know that I'll be using the 4/85 as my main lens I'll switch to Fujifilm's Press 1600 and rate it at 1250. That gives me the freedom to use the middle apertures without having to look for the meter. While holding a rangefinder really is easier than an SLR, I have lost the occasional frame to camera shake.

Rush Lane

But there's another way that the f/4 aperture is limiting, which is very important for some people. Without razor-thin depth of field it's hard to show that someone has spent more money than other photographers, making this lens unquestionably inferior to the Carl Zeiss 85mm f/2 sonnar. True, some people do very well by chasing the fuzzy-eared portrait fashion, but the Canon 85/1.2 on a 5D will always be the king of that look, putting it beyond my concern.

Sure, if the Zeiss 4/85 could be made into a faster lens without changing its size, weight, cost, or quality, I'd buy one. But that's not the lens that we have in the 4/85, and its somewhat modest aperture is a practical compromise considering its other excellent qualities. I have used the tele-tessar's f/2 sonnar stablemate, and despite the appeal of having two extra stops of light, I might not choose one even if the extra cost wasn't an issue. Like a thoroughbred racehorse, it's absolutely beautiful and majestic, but who has the room to store a horse these days?

Transportation

The unfortunate reality is that the 85mm focal length isn't playing to the M-mount's strengths. The ZM Zeiss Ikon is one of the very best rangefinders for accurately focusing a long lens, but just about any SLR will do a significantly better job. With imprecise framing coupled to an unmagnified viewfinder, tele-rangefinder photography leaves an uncomfortable amount of the composition up to chance.

The 4/85 can do some very nice head-and-shoulders portraits. It as the same DOF as an f/2.8 lens on a cropped DSLR body, and the narrow field of view makes it easy to choose the backdrop. But for more casual portraiture my first choice will always be the exceptional 1,5/50mm sonnar. I bought that lens so that a photographer friend could use it for one roll at my wedding, where it produced most of my very favourite images. For general photography RF photographers will typically choose a 50mm or 35mm lens, and while some will go wider as their personal favourite, very few will reach for a short telephoto as their primary glass. My personal 'standard' lens is the Carl Zeiss 2/35 biogon, which just fits me perfectly despite my never liking the Nikon 35/2D on my F100 or D700. Life can be like that sometimes.

Untitled #837

So why did I buy a short telephoto lens when it's neither the best for portraits nor a comfortable general-purpose choice for a rangefinder? Quite frankly, the tele-tessar is an excellent lens to have in the camera bag, and that's where mine happily stays most of the time. The 35/85 combination is a classic two-lens kit, and even though the 35mm will see most of the action the 85mm is occasionally vital. A three-lens outfit will frequently include a short telephoto like the 85 along with a 50mm and a wide-angle lens for the maximum versatility. Because of the nature of rangefinder photography the telephoto will invariably see the least use: if it doesn't, you're using the wrong camera. But as a second or third choice, the CZ 85mm f/4 is exceptional.

Partly because it spends the least time on my Ikon, the 4/85 is the lens that I'm most likely to use on an adapter for my micro-four-thirds GH1. Being able to boost the sensitivity on a digital camera mostly absolves its shutter-speed issues, and improving sensor technology will only make that compromise better. I'll often carry a Zeiss lens instead of the Panasonic 14-140, and my M-to-m4/3 adapter has retired the F-to-m4/3 one that I used for the Nikon 85/1.8D. The tele-tessar is technically, mechanically, and ergonomically better than all of my other telephoto choices, and on a Olympus or Sony body with image stabilization, it would be perfect.

I bought the Carl Zeiss 4/85 fully expecting that it would be my least-used lens. It's an excellent optic, and matches perfectly with the other technician of the CZ-ZM line, the 2/35 Biogon. But even though I gravitate toward telephoto compositions, and love the look of its results, there haven't been any happy surprises with the 4/85. I take just as few photos with it as I expected. Even when I'm making a point of using it – like to gather some images for a review that I've been meaning to write for a couple of months – I find myself illicitly switching to shorter focal lengths. They're simply a better match for a rangefinder camera, and can be used with less concern about the finicky details of composition and shutter speed. But for both versatility and comprehensiveness, the 4/85 t* tele-tessar lens is one that I wouldn't want to be without.

Not every lens can be the one that gets used the most, and that's okay.

last updated 10 jan 2011

Zeiss Ikon (First Impressions)

Concept: 5 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: Five years old and still not obsolete.

Let's all take a minute and think back to the beginning of 2005. It's a very long time ago: Canon has just released a follow-up to its MSRP-revising Rebel 300D, the Nikon D70 is a really big deal, the Olympus E-300 is only the second SLR in a new all-digital format, and the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker has just been rediscovered in Arkansas. Konica-Minolta is about to announce a technology sharing agreement with Sony, and Leica is on the verge of financial collapse. This was what the world looked like when the Zeiss Ikon rangefinder first appeared - a strange and slightly scary place, but with faint foreshadowing of what is to come.

So now we're in the middle of 2010: digital cameras are firmly established, Canon has brought out five more 'Rebel' models, and the remaining manufacturers look like they'll still be in business in the next few months. The irony, of course, is that ten years into the digital era, film photography has never been better. The Nikon F6 is the finest automated camera ever made, and Leica has both the mechanical MP and the electronic M7 available for the well-heeled purists. The diversity has dwindled and the selection has been savaged, but the remaining films and cameras are exceptional.

With the Zeiss Ikon, there's always the question of 'why not just buy a Leica'? Part of the answer has to be very simple: it's far less expensive than the similar M7, and far more capable than a used M6 for about the same money. Plus, I like it better - and it has no difficulty standing on its own merits. The aesthetics and the idea of the Ikon really appeal to me; with all due respect for Leica's sensibilities, the Zeiss Ikon is the pinnacle of rangefinder design without the undue burden of its history. Its creators clearly love photography, love cameras, and have a tremendous respect for the Leica tradition, but the Zeiss Ikon moves beyond it. It's electronic, it's much lighter than its German counterparts, and it has its own distinct personality.

In my formative years, my hobby was archery. It's a contemplative activity that depends on precise timing, and is not unlike photography in many ways. A friend of mine used a beautiful wooden longbow, and we both scoffed at the hunters with their compound bows sporting fiberglass pulleys and elaborate sights. That wonderful wooden longbow - tradition unhampered by progress - is a good parallel for the Leica, and wunder-plastik is universal, whether it's found in a weapon or a digital SLR. In a tellingly prescient move, I used a scoped crossbow. I still have it to this day, but I digress.

Take a look at the flight deck of the Zeiss Ikon. This is an inherently electronic camera that cannot function without its battery, and it's perfectly designed for auto exposure. But unlike the "Green Idiot" auto modes of digital SLRs, 'auto' in this context simply means 'aperture priority', which is always set directly from the lens. Exposure compensation can be set by moving the "A" indicator from -2 through to +2, in thirds-stop increments, with a firmer detent at the neutral position making it easy to find without looking. Whole-stop shutter speeds are also available for those who think that doing basic math is a creative endeavour. (If I wanted to make a hobby out of chasing a needle, I'd take up heroin instead of photography - but that's just me.) Film speeds are set by lifting this same dial and selecting the appropriate number, and once again thirds-stop positions are available. And unlike some rangefinders, there's a window in the back to show the film type for the forgetful.

The shutter release is electronic, with the power / lockout switch underneath it. There's a film plane mark resting demurely underneath the film advance lever, and the frame counter window is both magnified and protected by a raised metal surround. It's hard to get more elegant than that.

Aside from the previously mentioned aperture control and focus ring, both of which are on the lens, the only other photographic control is the silver exposure lock button that's located below the accessory shoe. And that's really all there is to it. The film door has a secure slide-and-push latch that can be opened one-handed, and the rewind crank has been relegated to the bottom of the camera where it belongs.

Ah, the viewfinder of the Zeiss Ikon. It deserves a sentence all to itself, like poetry. Bigger than on any Leica that I've tried - 5, 6, 7, 9, and MP - and far superior to any SLR on the market. The area covered by the 50mm framelines is only a little smaller than the view through the Nikons D700 and F100. With my glasses scrunched tight, I can see almost all of the 28mm framelines, but that's still not quite all of the viewable image. I was initially worried that I'd forget to use the framelines and try to compose with the full view, but that's simply not possible. It's huge and bright, with a completely different experience than the world-in-a-box of a black-framed SLR's window. My first sunny-day outing with the Ikon had me using it at the same time as the GH1, and the experience of going back to the latter camera's electronic viewfinder was crushing.

I've also used my Ikon alongside my Nikon F100, burning the same type of film in each, and come to an interesting conclusion. I've long suspected that I have a mild case of the yips, because I'll often jerk the camera very slightly when I press the shutter. It may even be my hyper-sensitive flinch reflex - I'm the youngest of three brothers - reacting to the experience of the mirror sound and blackout. Regardless of the actual cause, I found that of the 15 essentially identical images that I took with both film cameras, the Ikon's composition was stronger in seven of them, while the F100 was better in only five. The SLR should have had a much stronger showing than that, but I found that many of the SLR images show a slight rotation to the right. That was something that I had to fight with my D700 as well, but with the rangefinder's uninterrupted view, it simply isn't an issue.

The experience of film is very different from using a digital camera. Gone is the attitude of "shoot them all and let Lightroom sort it out." Exposing 36 (really, 39) images with care and consideration is as tiring and time-consuming as taking a couple of hundred digital photos, but my 'keeper' numbers remain about the same. And with the lower throughput, the cost of film is hardly an issue: exposing a full roll of film means I've had a very productive morning, but the cost of buying and developing it barely exceeds that of the lunch that I'll pick up on the way home. If I get into DIY-developed black and white films, then the cost of a roll is about the same as the round-trip bus fare to somewhere interesting - and I mean Scarborough, not Chicago.

Digital and film cameras really are in different worlds. When I'm out with my Ikon and see someone on the street with a D3x and 200mm f/2 lens, neither one of us cares what the other is carrying. Granted, I already have a D700 and a GH1, so there's no shortage of great digital cameras in my life, but now I've opted out of the whole newer+shinier=better perspective. The next big thing doesn't appeal to me any more, and it's a nice feeling.

Of course, I can hardly finish up without mentioning a couple of the points that the many other excellent reviewers have raised before me. (Johnston, Elek, Ripsher, Roger & Frances, Puts, even K'rock.) The first is the shutter speed indicator in the viewfinder. I can't see it without losing sight of the rangefinder patch, and while shutter speed is typically irrelevant for an AE camera, I would occasionally like to know ahead of time if I'm overexposed or risking camera shake. The other issue isn't with the camera, but with the people who think too much instead of taking photos: the camera is made in Japan by Cosina. Cosina, of course, also makes their own rangefinder cameras under the Voigtlander name, causing derisive air-quotes - "Zeiss" - among those who can't imagine why swing-back film loading is a good idea. As even a quick look at the battery compartments of the various Nikon Coolpix cameras will tell you, contract manufacturing is quite common. The Ikon is a beautifully built Zeiss product exactly the same way that the iPods and iPads are distinctly Apple products.

On paper, there's very little reason why I should use a rangefinder camera. I have no background in film photography to fall back on, and already have a full slate of digital gear. I'm not a 'street' photographer, don't want a fashion piece, and my current style depends on flat space, regulated geometry and active framing. But I've grown tired of the whole digital camera market, with the rapid replacement and depreciation of digital SLRs, and ever-decreasing quality of the compacts. Instead of being a limitation, having the Zeiss Ikon has been a liberation. A wise person once said: "if you don't like the answer, choose a different question." The Ikon is a wonderful step away from the pace of the digital world, is immune to (further) obsolescence, and will only get better with age.