Sigma DP3 Merrill First Impressions

Concept: 5 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: Pixel = Picture Element. Sensel = Sensor Element.

The Long Version: This is not a review of the Sigma DP3 Merrill. It has already been scrutinized by some of the best and there's really not much to add; these cameras are not creatures of nuance and subtlety. The DP series, and the 75mm-e DP3 in particular, is so unambiguous that anyone who has looked into it should have no doubts about whether or not it's a suitable camera for them. Anyone who hasn't looked into them already should probably stop reading now, because nothing good will come of it.

As I said, there are already some great reviews out there. But I'd like to single out their essence, which comes from Lensrentals: "if you want some amazing images, but not a lot of them and never very close together, this camera is a blast."

But there is a question I can address: Why not hold out for the recently-announced Quattro?

There is value, both financial and personal, in being a late adopter. This is something that I learned from Bill, although naturally it has taken me time to appreciate his wisdom.

Sigma's Merrill generation is a known known – none of its many flaws or strengths should surprise any purchaser with an internet connection. (Any purchaser without an internet connection is in for a nasty shock when they learn that the necessary raw-processing software is download-only.) But despite being superseded by the Quattro the DP3M can still have its age measured in months. So why hurry to pay the highest price for an early production unit of an unproven design? Cameras are invariably rushed to market with insufficient testing, and problems can strike anyone. Canon, Fuji, and Sony have all had light leaks, Nikon had the D800 autofocus misalignment, Sigma had the SD1 Merrill pricing, and so on.

Yes, I'm sure the Quattro will be a better device with less mid-iso noise and slowness, but it doesn't add what I miss most with the Merrill. There's still no EVF or tilting LCD screen, and there's still no cable release or even WiFi triggering option. And some of the dpQ's improvements don't help me: the bigger batteries will let it record more rolls of film per charge to its memory card, but the Merrill takes the battery that I already use in my pair of Ricoh GRs. Synergy matters.

Besides, the dpQ doesn't have that old Foveon three-sensels-per-colour nostalgia – I've wanted a Foveon camera since I first tried an SD9 a decade ago, so the Quattro sensor design feels like a very very small betrayal. And in another generation or two the technology pioneered in the dpQ will be even better, making the upgrade more significant when a cable release or EVF finally make an appearance.

For what it's worth, the DP3M reviews are absolutely right, but it still takes some experience with the camera to really appreciate them. The battery life is dreadful; I exhausted one by taking six photos and going through the initial setup process. Autofocus is at least as slow as any compact camera made in the past few years. Shadow noise at iso500 in indoor lighting requires countermeasures. And yet when it all works the files really are amazing.

The Sigma DP3 Merrill is a best-case camera. What's wrong with that? When I have worst-case needs I'll pick up my D800 and its suite of excellent prime lenses. If I want a more normal pocket camera I have the ultra-sharp wide-angle GR. And when I need versatility over image quality I have my Nikon V1, which is perfectly capable of producing mediocre results across an expansive range of focal lengths. The DP3M is a city-friendly camera that can produce exceptional results when used appropriately, and it just so happens that its comfort zone and mine are almost identical.

I just need to buy more batteries.

last updated 2 may 2014

Scarves

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: April 6 is National Tartan Day.

The Long Version: Scarves are something of an odd idea. Creating a strip of fabric specifically for wrapping it in the gap between ones' collar and chin hardly seems like a functional idea. Despite growing up watching "Dr. Who" episodes that prominently featured scarves, I never saw much point to them. Stylish accessories, perhaps, but more trouble than they're worth.

Being of (fractionally and nominally) Scottish descent, the last time I was in Ottawa I took the opportunity to visit a tartan shop on Robertson street. How could I not? The photo above is of the Robertson Hunting tartan, while the one below is a standard Robertson. So my first scarf purchases as an adult were simply as accessories, without too much regard for function.

Of course that was before I knew that this winter would be one of the coldest in recent memory, and before I knew just how much warmth a scarf would add to my usual winter outfit. I still never took to scarves for all-purpose wear, though, since they are much more difficult to add or remove quickly than the typical toque and gloves. I'll certainly want to keep them handy for next winter, though.

Today, April 6, just happens to be National Tartan Day. The lead photo is the 'Maple Leaf', the official Tartan of Canada.

last updated 1 dec 2013

Twelve South SurfacePad for iPhone

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: Short-term testing only so far.

The Long Version: Despite sounding like some horror-movie hybrid of Apple and Microsoft tablets, 'SurfacePad' is actually Twelve South's name for a family of thin leather covers. The iPhone variant wraps around the phone folio-style, using an adhesive to attach to the back of the phone to keep its bulk to an absolute minimum.

Twelve South emphasizes that the SurfacePad isn't an iPhone case, and it's really not: only those looking for sleekness should consider it. The folio cover protects the screen and provides better grip on the phone, while its minimal bulk keeps it very pocketable. This is unquestionably the case that I'd want to have for a first date or while wearing a suit, but it won't compete with an Otterbox in a drop test.

The combination of leather folio and the iPhone's metal edges looks and feels fantastic. The fit of the non-case, when positioned correctly, is perfect. The front is stiff to protect the screen and the side supple enough that the volume buttons can be felt and pressed with the cover closed. Its thinness also means that there's minimal bulk when the folio is doubled back on itself, so it can actually be used when talking on the phone, which is a weakness for their BookBook. And of course its design makes it easy to quickly check the phone and put it away again, which its aesthetic and spiritual competitor, the Sena Ultraslim, isn't particularly good for.

The double-row of stitching on the back adds a tactile cue for orienting the phone, and marks where the back cover hinges outward to let the folio be used as a landscape stand. I do find that its angle of repose is a little too steep, but with more use it may become less severe. It certainly has a more relaxed angle in Twelve South's product photos, which gives me a certain faith. This stand has come in handy for me a couple of times, but I wouldn't really miss this feature if it went away.

The problem is that I prefer to save monogamy for the more important things in life: phone cases don't merit long-term commitments. While I enjoy having the SurfacePad for a night out or a weekend, I have two other cases that I also like to use. While the adhesive on the SurfacePad leaves no residue and has withstood multiple detachments so far, it's still something of a commitment and I have concerns about its long-term viability. A month isn't nearly long enough to actually know anything about this, but the idea of it is enough to inhibit me from switching cases as often as I like.

Twelve South makes interesting products that are well thought through and cleverly designed, and the SurfacePad is no exception. I can recommend it to anyone who wants a slim cover that's easy to carry and pleasant to use, especially if it's going to be a long-term commitment.

last updated 24 jan 2014

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.

Fujifilm X-Pro1 and Fujinon 35mm f/1.4

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: Wait for round 2

The Long Version: I read somewhere that in comedy, the best way to act drunk is to act sober, but fail. I thought about this a lot when I rented a Fujifilm X-Pro1, which acts like a digital rangefinder, but fails.

One of the most attractive parts of rangefinder photography – in theory, at least – is the ability to create images with a minimum of fuss. Aficionados call this “purity of photographic spirit”; others call it “lack of features”. And while the X-Pro1 clearly draws inspiration from simple, mechanical rangefinders, it’s also a look-at-me! showcase of innovative electronics, a dichotomy that is the source of not only the camera’s considerable charms, but also its numerous frustrations.

Nowhere is that more apparent than its show-stopping piece of tech, the hybrid viewfinder. On the one hand, it’s super cool. On the other, you’re forced to constantly choose between imperfect options. The optical viewfinder (OVF) is the looser, more fun side – particularly its Iron Man digital-projection-on-glass display – but suffers from imprecise frame lines. Meanwhile, the electronic viewfinder (EVF) provides accurate framing but also a small amount of lag; for timing-critical shots, you’ll be happy the OVF is around.

However, the OVF doesn’t guarantee speed in some situations. Let’s say you’re using the 35mm lens and your subject is about a meter away. At that relatively close distance, the change in framing due to parallax is pretty jarring. You frame this…

…only to focus and then see that you’re framing this…

…so a compose-then-focus motion becomes compose-then-focus-then-recompose. Which sometimes becomes

1. Compose
2. Focus
3. Recompose
4. Click
5. Review; frame lines still way off
6. Fine! Switch to EVF
7. Dog walks away.

Do that enough times and the simpler X-E1 starts to make more sense.

It’s all the more frustrating because there’s much to love here. For starters, I found the size and weight to be in that nebulous Goldilocks ideal range: not too small, but not too heavy. Leica size without Leica heft.

And the retro controls are great. With dedicated dials for aperture, shutter speed, and exposure compensation you lose some flexibility but gain simplicity and clarity: there’s no possibility for confusion, you can check your settings at a glance, and you can set the camera by feel.

At the system level, I admire that Fujifilm initially ignored the all-millimeters-covered mob to instead focus on prime lenses with reasonable focal lengths. I wonder how the accountants were convinced to try this; it must have been tough to get through the pitch with the designers’ massive swinging balls always getting in the way.

I used the 35mm f/1.4 and my only complaint is that the aperture ring is a little slushy. I can’t speak to the quality of the other lenses, but the consensus from others is that the worst XF lens is merely very good.

The excellence continues with the sensor. I’d be comfortable letting auto-ISO do whatever it wants up to ISO 6400. I’m less comfortable with Fuji’s go-it-alone stance with the unusual X-Trans design and in not working closely with the big-name RAW converters. (There are those swinging balls again.)

So the camera’s bones are solid. That said, no review of a Fuji camera can skip the laundry list of interface oddities:

• In Macro mode (which forces the EVF), the EVF/OVF switch doesn’t switch you out of Macro mode to the OVF; you have to cancel out of Macro mode first
• The major command dial directly under thumb has no function unless you’re using the Q menu (I think?)
• Three of the four directions on the directional pad do nothing unless you’re in the Q menu. (Again, I think?!)
• The sensor that detects when you have an eye to the viewfinder can be flummoxed by bright, overhead daylight, which is precisely when you most need the viewfinder
• There’s a button dedicated to metering when I would think the AE lock and the exposure compensation dial entirely remove the need to quickly change the metering pattern. Am I missing something on that?

(I also couldn’t figure out how to shoot a video with it. I consider this a positive.)

Of course none of these ruin the camera. Also keep in mind I only rented it for a week; with more time, you adjust and compensate for the quirks and limitations of any camera.

And Fuji’s on to something: DSLRs in this price range have better-faster-stronger specs but don’t deliver the same experience as an X-Pro1. With the direct controls and the retro good looks and the big viewfinder and the excellent lens, I thought it was – most of the time – a blast to use.

Fujifilm’s designers are in a tight spot: they based their design on the best elements of simple cameras, but no digital camera is simple thanks to the demands of the typical “what-about-my-astrophotography” camera buyer. I do not envy their position.

That said, it’s to Fujifilm’s credit that critics are mostly clamoring for a slightly more polished camera instead of kvetching about image quality. I say give them another round to take advantage of better electronics and user feedback. While I may eat these words later, I’m optimistic Fujifilm will deliver.

I mean, have you seen the reviews of the X100S? David Hobby called it “damn close” to a perfect camera; Luminous Landscape left little puddles of drool all over their website.

More than some other manufacturers, I get the sense that Fujifilm is hungry to do better. Each round of cameras is exponentially better than their last. They’re getting better at high-end digital cameras faster than the competition is getting better at doing, well, anything interesting.

So while the X-Pro1 is not quite the simpler digital camera some of us are clamoring for and that will never come – hell, even Leicas do video now – they’ve definitely got my attention.

Lee Reamsnyder on the Panasonic G5

Lee Reamsnyder, longtime friend of thewsreviews and author of the best storage product review that I've ever read, joins us with his thoughts after spending a long weekend with the Panasonic G5.

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: It isn't groundbreaking anymore.

Lee writes: In 2008, we were introduced to the first camera in what would become a swell little format, the groundbreaking Panasonic G1. It finally delivered on the promise of significantly smaller cameras and lenses matched with still-large sensors. It proved that electronic viewfinders (EVFs) were viable in a serious camera. It took great pictures.

No one talked about it.

Although the G1 came first, the internet hype machine didn't power up until the next year, which saw a perfect storm in the close releases of the smaller GF1, the sexier Olympus PEN, the more capable GH1, and the small but scrappy Panasonic 20mm/1.7 lens. When the system started to gel and the hyperbolic “we-love-photography-again!” reviews came out, the relatively plain G1 was history.

Aside from the revolutionary bits, the G1 got an awful lot right for the first time out: the grip is comfortable, the autofocus was fast and accurate, the magnified viewfinder has the same effective size as a full-frame DSLR, the rear LCD has the moves, the menu system shows an organization and clarity that is agonizingly rare these days, and it nails the switches-around-dials idea for quick access to major controls.

After 4 years with a G1, all I want is two tweaks:

1. Swap the Menu and Quick Menu buttons. The Quick Menu with all the shooting settings, not the configuration bank, should be the one that's quickly available under thumb.
2. Replace the too-clever tricky toggly main dial with a more obvious switch or a button-plus-dial method to control exposure compensation.

Basically: steal some control paradigms from Canon and keep up with evolving sensor tech. Boom, the next camera would be perfect…

…which is why I've found the actual evolution of the G-series so frustrating. The G2 stapled on a video mode and little else. The G3 upped the megapickles but lost the hand grip, the eye sensor that automatically switched between the rear LCD and the EVF, and like half of the buttons and dials.

Which brings us to the G5: it restores the eye sensor and a bunch of buttons, sports yet another body and grip design, and adds some niceties that I'll discuss shortly.

I'm in the market for a new digital system camera, and I'm fond of the G1, so I wanted to see where the G-series has ended up. After a long weekend with the G5 via the always great Lensrentals, I'm conflicted.

Plug, gratis

I can't really comment on autofocus performance, the great slayer of pretenders to the mirrorless throne. Though Panny's cameras have always set the standard on this front, I don't own lenses that would reflect any improvements. The AF motor in the 20/1.7 is satisfactory – no one would call it swift. I'm surprised the 7–14/4 comes with autofocus at all. Perhaps my 45/2.8 macro languorously hunted a smidge faster than normal? There's nothing I can pin on the camera.

Speaking of pins, there's a new 'pinpoint' autofocus that zooms in to a highly magnified portion of the frame to show you exactly where the camera is focusing, a clever idea that's still not as useful for critical work as true focus peaking. Seriously Panny: you have a video division. Call them, maybe?

One feature that I went in expecting to ignore but warmed to is the touch screen. The swivel screen is still one of the stand-outs of the G# line, and the touch features don't ruin it. Don't be suckered by the "touch" part. It's pressure-, not capacitive-,  sensitive, so don't expect graceful swipes or pinch-zooming like on a smartphone.

You can, however, prod the screen to indicate where you want to focus. Although Panny's multizone "just focus for me" setting is pretty smart, I can't understate how cathartic it is to just jab the sucker when it's not locking on the right spot. "No, focus HERE!" *poke*

Also, you can get quick(ish) access to two more custom functions via the touch screen, bringing the total number of customizable "buttons" to 5. Not too shabby.

Not that impressed, but not barking at the shutter either

One excellent candidate for quick access is the new electronic shutter. The mechanical shutter has a good, not-too-loud *fwip*, but the electronic one (after you turn off the autofocus bloops) is silent. Not muffled. Not quieter. Silent. If you work in any sound-sensitive environment – theaters, nurseries, churches, librarian fetish websites – this might be your camera.

Zoom zoom zoom…

Another feature I'm mixed on is the zoom lever, new on this model. I don't own any power zoom lenses (though the compact 14-42 is tempting); however, you can configure the G5's zoom lever to control exposure compensation as a pseudo second dial. I'd have liked this _much_ more if it also disabled the toggling between aperture and exposure compensation on the primary dial. As Matthew mentioned in his GH1 review, you can still accidentally switch between major functions at random times even while turning the dial, even though with the G5 you basically have two dedicated controls. So stupid. I've missed enough shots to main dial surprises with the G1 that this still rankles, even though I infrequently take pictures in a hurry.

The electronic viewfinder remains excellent even if it's mostly unchanged from the G1. If you're manufacturing cameras and don't need to pay for the precision hunk of glass for a prism, I don't know why you wouldn't provide a really, really, ridiculously magnified EVF. Glowers at the significantly smaller unit in the OMD. What is this? A viewfinder for ants?

Another carryover from the G1 is the conservative meter; I dial in +2/3 compensation in almost any situation where I'm not worried about shutter speed or blowing highlights. After going through several hundred underexposed shots in Lightroom, I can confirm that the G5's RAW files are quite forgiving of big exposure corrections.

Mom's Attic

A "nature" photo, for me

IQ is pretty darn good, even as you crank up the ISO. With the G1, I used ISO 100–400 with abandon, 800 with a good (over)exposure, and 1600 for snapshots. Improvements to Lightroom gave me another stop(ish) of acceptable noise if dynamic range wasn't a concern. I'd say the G5 adds another stop, maybe two, of usable range for me, which seems about right compared to the best APS-C cameras. It's not a D800, but the G5's sensor is no longer getting smoked in the noise department by my overachieving Canon S100. Since my other camera is a film rangefinder that's usually loaded with 400 film exposed at 250, the improved sensitivity is liberating.

Or, at least it should be. But something about the G5 left me cold. It might be the body gestalt. Although it's marginally heavier and smaller than the G1, it feels more hollow, empty. The magnesium front plate doesn't compensate for the rest of the cheap plastic shell and mushy buttons. The new grips – hand and thumb – feel plenty comfortable, but I didn't find myself reaching for it as much I thought I might.

Put another way: with my Ikon and S100, in idle moments I often find myself twiddling with the dials. I like the indulgent tick-tick-ticking of spinning the aperture ring on my 35/2 or twirling the ribbed lens wheel on the S100. I also know that with either of those cameras I could quickly reset if a photo opportunity arose; at this point I could probably set and focus my Ikon blindfolded. I can't imagine myself doing the same with the G5. These things shouldn't matter, but, well, yeah, they do! Particularly for an expensive hobby.

I've heard the GX1 is better when it comes to the intangibles, but you'd be losing the very useful swivel screen and the built-in EVF. The G5 remains the more practical and flexible choice.

During my rental period, I welcomed the excuse to give my much-adored Micro Four-Thirds lenses some exercise with a more modern partner. But I doubt I'll buy a G5 for myself. I honestly don't know what I want. The GH2 might be right, but it's also aging and its replacement has a larger, all-new body. Maybe I'll try the GX1. Maybe the grass is greener with Olympus or Fuji these days.

Fly away

It's an exciting time to be a digital photographer. It's also a frustrating time to be in the middle of the market. Big iron DSLRs have overwhelming firepower for those that need extreme resolution or speed. For everyone else, 'serious' compact cameras are getting so much better so quickly that it's almost scary. Here's the puzzle for everything in between: I think anything that can't offer ultimate size or ultimate IQ must offer a premium experience to be worth using. Although the G5 can use those excellent M4/3 lenses, the camera itself doesn't get my photographic juices flowing.

And I think that's where I left it: 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. For the size, image quality, features, and lens selection I would totally recommend it to friends looking to get into an interchangeable lens system, definitely before I would recommend any crop-sensor DSLR. Compared to the Olympus OMD or the GH series, it's totally a bargain. It appeals to that side of me that reads Consumer Reports. It's just fine.

The G5 is a perfectly acceptable photographic appliance, but it's in an era where 'perfectly acceptable' might not be enough.

last updated 22 mar 2013

First Impressions: Nikon D800

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's so pretty.

The Long Version: I haven't spent much time with the D800 yet, recently purchased from Toronto's Aden Camera, but this isn't the time for patience and introspection. That can come later.

I'm trying to come up with a word other than 'awesome' to describe the D800's image quality. I may have to settle for 'astonishing'. My first reaction to each new photo has been "you have got to be kidding me". Detail, noise, dynamic range: I instantly forgot how much I paid for this electronic contraption. I used to call my D700 'the monster' for what it could pull off – just a few minutes with the D800 had me calling it 'the God Nikon'.

I'd happily use the D700 to iso3200 for semi-important photos, and 6400 for ones under more extreme conditions. With the D800, it looks like I'll be adding about another stop on top of that. The iso12800 boost setting, which I used on a dark street, produced results that I'd be quite pleased with – especially when the alternative could be no photo at all.

But like my D700, I didn't buy the D800 for its low-light ability. What I want is the ability to make high-quality prints, and the D800's images can be printed at 16x20" and 300dpi without upsizing. To reach that size with my D700, I would need to go through super-resolution software with a stack of photos, or tile multiple images. All of this requires forethought, careful execution, and a great deal of computer resources. With the D800 I skip the first two requirements, which is a huge advantage.

I've yet to take a photo with it that's worth the ten dollars in paper and ink, but I'm sure it will happen eventually.

Another interesting feature that I didn't buy the D800 for is its video ability. I've never really been interested in video; I have a hard enough time assembling a sequence of still photos without trying to learn a whole new language. But just for fun, I put the camera on a tripod and pointed it at something moving and moderately interesting. About the only thing that I changed from the camera's default settings was to enable video recording by pressing the shutter button, which let me use my cable release to start and stop the sequence. One minute of the results are on Vimeo here.

One thing to remember about the God Nikon is that its desire is to create as strongly detailed photos as possible. A lot has been said elsewhere about the D800 and its need for the best lenses and technique to pull the most out of the camera. That's true. But there's nothing that says that its needs should be the most important ones in the relationship. I recently spent a happy saturday taking photos at a wholly inappropriate aperture, forgetting that adequate depth of field is more important than peak sharpness. Lesson learned.

The payoff for good discipline may be greater with the D800, but it handles carelessness pretty well too. Yes, I can clearly see when I miss focus with my 50/1.4G when it's wide open, there's a massive difference between f/1.4 and f/5.6, and I'm aware of corner softness that I had never noticed before. But even in those times of trouble the D800 is still pulling everything the lens has to give – just because the D800 isn't at its best, it doesn't follow that using a lesser camera would give better results. The important thing is to use the right lens and aperture for the creative purpose, and if that happens to be a dazzlingly sharp piece of crystal at its optimum aperture, great. If not, still great.

One thing that I have done to accommodate the 36 megapickle sensor is spend the time to fine-tune the autofocus with the two AF lenses that I use on it. This has made a big difference, and now my AF photos have about a one-in-three chance of being as sharp – or even sharper – than ones that I manually focus with live view. The other two out of three will usually have the AF system miss just a tiny bit, which is typical for all cameras, but the God Nikon is unforgiving. When peak sharpness really matters I'll take a few redundant photos and let the AF find its mark anew for each. That works best with static subjects, naturally, but it's an easy way to squeeze the best out of the camera.

There were only three things that I didn't like about my recently-departed D700. The big one was the 95% viewfinder. I cut my teeth on the Olympus E-1 and E-3 4/3 cameras, which had exceptional 100% viewfinders despite their smaller sensor size. The other was the resolution – it was feeling like a bad dream that, despite shifting largely to Nikon, I was still in the universe of "12 megapixels should be enough". This was part of the reason why I moved a lot of my personal photography to film, because even if the actual resolved detail isn't any better than a 12Mpx camera, the high-resolution scans look a lot nicer than scaling up an all-digital file.

My third D700 quibble was the lack of easy access to exposure bracketing. I know: who cares when the dynamic range of the camera is this good. I do, if only a little, and the D800 fixes that oversight as well. I suppose there could be more complaints about the D700, because it doesn't have a catch to hold the battery in place and had a bad door design for its left-side ports. Yes, nits are being picked, but the D800 has made those right too.

In exchange for all of these improvements, there have been a few physical changes from the D700 body to learn. The hand grip has a different profile, making for a slightly longer reach to the shutter button, and the position of the buttons to zoom in and out on the LCD review/preview have been reversed. I'm amazed at how often that change has tripped me up, especially since I didn't think I was ever all that natural with the D700. Muscle memory is a funny thing, and can't always be predicted.

There are other things to get used to, like the different batteries and ways of selecting autofocus methods, both of which are inherited from the D7000. The bigger LCD screen is nice in an irrelevant way, but not nearly as impressive as the new mostly-accurate dual-axis electronic level. All told this new camera would be a substantial upgrade even if Nikon had stuck with a more conservative sensor – but what fun would that have been?

It's already clear that Nikon has a huge success on its hands, and it looks like it's well deserved. There's still a tremendous amount for me to learn about the D800, and I may have more to say in a couple more months. Until then, I'll be taking photos and reading lens reviews.

Added April 21: My one-month report on the D800 is now on-line.

last updated 21 apr 2012

Opticianado

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 5 out of 5
Yeah, but: I'm not that easy to impress.

The Long Version: Okay, I have to admit that I have a good reason to be biased. That doesn't change the fact that Opticianado, at 2919 Dundas West, is my new favourite place to buy glasses.

Opticianado's location puts it solidly in Toronto's west end, which is a slightly surreal place where the street numbers run backwards and Dundas is north of Bloor. It's in the Junction neighbourhood – my fellow east-enders can think of it as a more interesting version of Leslieville – where it fits in perfectly on a mixed commercial street with a refreshing lack of franchise stores. Sure, there is a Starbucks down the road for the people visiting the galleries and crafts stores, but we all need a balance.

I've worn glasses for almost twenty-five years, so I've visited a few opticians in my time. By selling a mix of new and vintage glasses, Opticianado has things that I've never seen before, along with some of my favourites. I was especially pleased to see that they sell Lindberg, which is what I had before my current set; these take lenses that are unusually hard to make, and make my current Oakley frames feel like cinder blocks. When the time comes to replace them, I know where I'll be going.

It also doesn't hurt that it's a ridiculously good-looking store.

But I didn't just stumble into Opticianado by accident as I visited a different part of the city. Penny had correctly answered a skill-testing question on Twitter, and won herself a new pair of sunglasses. And these were some serious glasses, too – quite a considerable prize. But… they just weren't quite right for her. Penny found a different pair that she preferred, and that was no problem at all.

The service and attention that we received was amazing. Even though we were being given an exceptionally good deal, everyone was enthusiastic, interested, and helpful – all things that I didn't experience when I last spent half-a-thousand dollars on prescription glasses elsewhere. That's a mistake that I don't plan on repeating.

last updated 4 dec 2010

One Weekend with the Epson 3880

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: How interesting can setting up a printer be?

The Long Version: There's not a lot that I can add to the existing reviews of the Epson Stylus Pro 3880; over the past two years it's been in solid use by people who are better printmakers than I'll ever be. All I can really report on is the experience of upgrading to it. After all, as my mother always said, "Why would I want to listen to people dumber than me?"

The Epson SP3880 makes a powerful impression right from the very beginning: the box that it comes in is a monster, and it's not filled with helium. It's manageable with a certain amount of preparation, but it's not an impulse-buy item unless you already own one of those large "car" things and found a nearby place to park it. Personally, I just strapped it to my faithful folding hand truck and walked it a mile and a half – all uphill – to get it home. With that hurdle out of the way the next task was to set it up.

The Epson 3880 can make prints that are 17" wide, but the printer itself is only an inch wider than the 13"-carriage Canon Pro 9000 mk II that it replaced. This makes the SP 3880 quite easy to live with. The biggest challenge of installing it is finding and removing all of the tape that holds the various bits in place during transit. Canon uses orange tape, and I still missed a couple on the 9000; Epson's tape is a translucent dark blue that's not blindingly visible on (and in) the black and silver printer. I count 49 pieces from mine, including the ones that hold down the spacer blocks and foam, but your results may differ.

Epson includes a fold-out quick-start guide, which I used, as well as a proper spiral-bound manual. It's great to see a printed manual these days, and while I can't remember what I checked it for, I did look at it once when I was setting everything up.

It's one thing to read that the 3880's ink tanks hold 80ml each, and it's something else to see all nine of them together. The printer contains almost as much fluid as a bottle of wine, and given that they're somewhere north of $500 for a full set, it's a mighty nice bottle of wine at that. But on a price-per-millilitre basis, that still makes the 3880's ink cheaper than any other printer that I've ever owned. It's nice to have economies of scale working in my favour for once, even if these tanks are small when compared to the bigger printers out there.

Printing with the 3880 is quick and quiet. The question of print quality has been ably addressed by reviewers elsewhere, so as a newbie all I can add is that I've been impressed without being blown away. The 3880 is a very very good printer, but that still isn't an earth-shattering upgrade from a printer that's merely very good. What pleases me is the speed and predictability of the output, with durable prints that don't have any of the problems inherent in the dye-ink printer that it replaces. As my printing ability improves, I have no doubt that I'll learn more about just how good the 3880 really is.

Given my previous determination to move to the Canon Pro 1, buying the 3880 came as something of a surprise. The biggest disadvantage of the Epson, the ink wasted in switching between the two blacks, went from critical to irrelevant when a multifunction office printer joined the family. And with that out of the way the ability to make larger prints became too tempting to pass up. The established track record of the SP 3880, and its relative popularity, also ensures easy availability of ink and broad support from paper manufacturers. But what really cinched the deal was Epson offering a $300 rebate. Despite knowing that mail-in rebates are essentially scams, it's still hard to pass up the chance to have four-and-a-half extra ink tanks for free.

last updated 9 dec 2011

Sena Ultraslim iPhone Case

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 5 out of 5
Yeah, but: Sometimes a case is just a case.

The Long Version: Some things improve with use and time. Products that are designed to accept the patina of age gracefully can develop a wonderful character from scuffs and wear, and never really need to be replaced. Natural materials like wood, leather, and canvas are the best for this, but Leica has proven that even metal machines can acquire a certain charm after decades of use.

Absolutely none of this applies to cell phones.

While hardly timeless, the current version of Apple's iPhone is a beautiful example of industrial design. The layered edges where the metal meets the glass are meant to be touched and handled; the latest "4S" revision has removed the antenna problem that left the previous model wrapped in ugly plastic. But the phone certainly isn't something that will have its appearance improved by scratches, and those smooth surfaces that invite touching are also very slippery to hold.

The Sena Ultraslim case solves many of the iPhone's problems. On paper it's just a simple sleeve that's very closely tailored to the iPhone 4/S, and protects it from scratches and minor bumps. But in practice the supple textured leather is a sublime physical compliment to the iPhone. At the risk of running into dangerously yoni-and-lingam territory, the phone and case have all kinds of perfect opposite characteristics: soft/hard, warm/cold, textured/smooth, yielding/firm… and like the iPhone, it's hard to resist touching it even when it's not strictly necessary.

When it's brand new the Ultraslim pouch needs a certain technique to unwrap it from the phone, but it's easy enough to master. After just a few days the leather stretches out, and after two weeks of use mine is a perfect fit. It's showing a little smoothness on the bottom and sides, and a slight crease across the top from taking the phone in and out, but that really does just add to the leather's character.

I used RIM's leather case for my Blackberry, and like the device it housed, it was a rigid and substantial – but functional – accessory. So I already knew that I would like the Sena sleeve when I bought it, but I'm still surprised by just how much. No, it doesn't provide much protection from catastrophic damage, but if I really felt the need for an Otterbox then I would have just bought a Sonim instead. The Sena Ultraslim is easy to carry, protects against unsightly blemishes, and is one of very few cases that actually makes the iPhone 4S even better. Add in the luxurious feel of the leather, and that's a hard combination to beat.

last updated 3 nov 2011

Apple iPhone 4s

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's so pretty.

The Long Version: Somehow, over the years that I've been using a portable messaging device, smartphones have evolved into little multi-purpose computers that can do some pretty cool things. The spiritual and functional difference between my old Blackberry 9000 and the iPhone 4s is huge: the Apple has a feeling of vaguely portentous purposelessness. There's no consistent menu, no list of functions, no fixed interface. Switching from the buttoned-down Blackberry to the glass-fronted fluidity of the iPhone has been an interesting experience.

I'm trying to come to terms with the iPhone as a spectacularly capable device that combines tremendous abilities with poor functionality. I have an application that can recognize a song from the radio in the background, yet as a music player the iPhone has a bad control interface that falls down specifically because it can do so many other things. Conversely, I can set the iPhone's creepy older uncle – a click-wheel iPod – to use a music playlist for its alarm, but that simple task confounds the phenomenal cosmic powers of this elaborate MP3 player. Sure, "there's an app for that", but it has to be left running in the foreground when the phone's put away for the night. Great ability; poor functionality.

The Siri beta works well, but with some surprising limitations. I tried asking it what time it was, and it replied that it didn't know the time at a specific nearby address. I eventually asked it for the local time, and it looked it up on Wolfram Alpha, which returns its results as images that Siri can't speak aloud. The iPhone has an application named "Clock" and Siri can use it to set alarms, so this shouldn't be that difficult. But as a beta release it's enough that it shows great promise, and even its present form is a tremendous addition to the phone.

Looking at the current market, I really don't see any competitor to iOS and the iPhone. RIM needs to establish its new OS, while Android needs to establish its own personality. I'm reasonably technically literate – I follow The Register and ArsTechnica on Twitter – and there can't be many other iPhone owners who once overclocked a beige G3 desktop. But honestly, if I wanted to sort out the divergent flavours of Linux on assorted hardware, I would have done it back when it was still confined to the desktop. 'Apple Just Works,' and the iPhone, with its confounding mix of perfection and obstinacy, is perhaps Apple's purest essence.

I've never been particularly partisan about brands, and I know the difference between a corporation and a friend. Owning the iPhone is going to take a new perspective and a different skill-set, but I'm ready for the challenge. Who knows where it'll end up in a couple more years? All I can say is that I'm looking forward to it.


There will invariably be lots of follow-up reviews looking at different iPhone features and add-ons. This is a 'first impressions' report, and by no means is it the last word.

last updated 18 oct 2011