Manfrotto MP3-D01 Pocket Series Tripod

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 0 out of 5
Yeah, but: Chant "don't buy, don't buy."

The Long Version: It's Manfrotto that calls the MP3-D01 a "Pocket DSLR Support" with a 1.5kg load capacity, not me. This flat plate with three independent legs is designed to stay attached to the bottom of a camera and simply unfurl when it's needed. It does fit a DSLR well enough – it's far too big for other cameras – but it certainly does not hold 1500 grams.

My D800 with the Sigma 35/1.4 should add up to 1555g, and the MP3 collapsed at the sight of it. Switching to the 60/2.8G lens brought the weight down to 1325 grams, and brought down the Manfrotto as well. It could mostly hold the camera with the 50/1.4G attached – 1180 grams – but I'd never rely on it for that task. In fact, my Joby Micro 800 – with a rated 800g capacity – did just as well at that level.

The MP3 has plenty of strength to hold little pocket cameras, but it's far too wide to be elegant. Manfrotto does explicitly say that it fits large cameras, so its unsuitability here shouldn't be a surprise, even though this is finally within its actual weight capacity.

So the only cameras that it really works with are the smaller ones with interchangeable lenses, as long as those lenses don't project below the camera body. My Nikon V1 works, even with the large 30-110mm lens, so that's a win.

Put another way, the non-musical MP3 is most suitable for cameras that have the memory card next to the battery, the door to which its broad breadth will almost certainly block.

The thinness of the MP3-D01 necessitates a thin and fiddly little attachment screw, which can be positioned in any of three slots to let the camera balance on it. This makes the tripod-thing awkward to remove and a nuisance to attach, but I suppose when a well-engineered product performs at this level some sacrifices must be made.

While I hardly ever actually use it this way, I have found one application that suits the little Manfrotto pocket tripod. It can hold my audio recorder off of a table, angled upwards enough to be useful, and doesn't block any ports or the battery door in the process. In this case its thinness really does let it stay attached to the recorder when it's in use or being carried, just like the promo material says it should.

The slightly thinner profile of the Manfrotto MP3 is its only advantage over the Joby Micro 800 that I usually use. The Joby is simply better in every other way, whether using it to support the camera or while using the camera with the support folded away. More elegant design, easier to attach, easier to use, less likely to obstruct battery doors, no little screw to lose, and significantly cheaper as well: at the time of writing, B+H has the Joby Micro 800 for $20 versus the MP3 for $35.

Seriously. Buy the Joby instead.

last updated 17 nov 2013

Joby Gorillapod Focus

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: Third time.

The Long Version: The Focus is the third Gorillapod, and sixth Joby product, that I've bought. Obviously I like them, but I've managed to decommission both an SLR and SLR Zoom, so I decided that stepping up to the heavy-duty metal model was a sensible thing to do.

It's nice to know that the Focus can easily hold my D800, but I rarely use it – or any tripod – for cameras. Instead it's part of my audio kit, where it does an exceptional job of keeping my Sony PCM-D50 field recorder exactly where I want it to be. The various Joby Gorillapods are such an excellent tool to have for audio recording that I consider them a mandatory-extra, just like proper wind protection.

The Focus is offered with or without a ball head. I went for the Without version and installed a Manfrotto 484RC2 head, which is heavier and larger than the Joby "Ballhead-X", but keeps compatibility with my existing heads and plates. If I was using arca-swiss gear then the X-head would have been perfect. Or almost perfect, at least – the included plate is square, but only has mounting grooves along one direction, giving visual but not operational symmetry. That's one of those things that would bug me for the life of the product, which in this case would be a very long time indeed. And yes, I do hate USB ports as well, thanks for asking.

While hanging a camera from a chain-link fence might not provide a lot of stability for long exposures or multi-shot brackets, it's something that works very well for audio gear. My method is to feed the legs through the fence, hooking the leg joints across the wire, and then snug the top two legs inward to give a secure hold. Then I can walk away and leave the recorder to do its thing for ten or fifteen minutes unattended and have no worries about it coming loose or letting me down. I'm also quite happy to hang the Gorillapod from the tops of signs or wrap it around posts, knowing that it won't work its way loose or slide.

I've been amazed at the places where the Focus has been happy, such as perched on the narrow bottom of an I-beam girder that's part of a highway overpass. I do occasionally use a full-sized tripod or light stand to hold my recorder, but proximity is everything, and the Focus is hard to beat for unusual perspectives.

And there are plenty of times when carrying larger objects simply isn't an option, whether it's for matters of convenience, access, practicality, or departure speed. I'm able to carry the Focus inside my nondescript backpack, so it's the heavy-duty support that I'm most likely to have with me.

While part of me wishes that I was a minimalist, it's usually beaten into submission by the larger part that wants the best available option to handle the widest range of contingencies, and that's what the Gorillapod Focus is. It's far stronger than I need for my Sony D50, but it's ready to do camera-duty with my Nikon D800, and that makes me happy. While the Focus is too heavy to carry for no reason – the lighter Joby head would help here – it's an indispensable part of both my day recording kit and the only tripod that I would consider travelling with. It might not do everything, but it's the most flexible tripod I know.

last updated 6 june 2013

Rycote Portable Recorder Suspension

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: Shown with optional accessories.

The Long Version: One of my favourite things about having a field audio recorder with built-in mics is the advice on how to avoid self-noise: hold it with a firm but relaxed grip. Seriously, am I expected to have years of practice with that technique or something?

It turns out that the easiest way to achieve this firm-but-loose hold is with a suspension mount. At present Rycote seems to be the only ones offering such a thing for portable recorders, as it screws into the camera-standard quarter-inch tripod socket that's on the bottom of most of them.

The good news is that the Rycote system works very well and promises to be durable. The suspension is a set of nylon-feeling plastic 'lyre' springs that are the masters of smooth-but-strong holds. It's good enough to let me create usable recordings while I walk with the recorder, which was simply impossible otherwise.

The biggest problem with the Rycote suspension system is that they missed the 'portable' part of the design brief. Instead of attaching to the bottom of the recorder with a captive screw, which is how the rest of the world does it, this product has decided to use a threaded rod and plastic thumb nut. The rod is detached from the assembly, screwed into the recorder – without the benefit of even a slot-head cut into the ends – and then inserted through the suspenders' mounting hole, to be locked in place by the black plastic nut-thing. This makes attaching and detaching the recorder into a major hassle, and the shock mount is too awkward and ungainly to easily pack away intact.

I've circumvented this design shortcoming by adding a Manfrotto quick release to the top of the shock mount, and I now leave the matching plate on the recorder all of the time. This also makes it compatible with my light full-sized tripod, monopod, and gorillapod, so I probably would have done it anyway, but it's going to be an unreasonable nuisance for a normal person who needs to attach and detach the recorder easily.

The non-recorder end of the shock mount has a pivot, and it's held together with a Philips screw and a nut. Adjusting the tension is done with a screwdriver, and there are no click-stops or other design refinements. This puts me firmly in the "I would have done it anyway" category once again. I usually carry a Swiss Army Knife with me, and keep a small Leatherman in my sound bag, so adjusting the screws' tension is no big deal. For me. Other people may have a different experience, but then again, field recording doesn't seem like an activity for minimalists.

Completing our physical tour, the end of the swivel mount is threaded for a 3/8ths screw attachment, so it can attach directly to the top of tripods or stands. Rycote also includes a separate cold-shoe foot that can thread into the bottom, and it in turn has a quarter-inch thread in the bottom of it, making it a handy adapter to have.

This shock mount is also sold in a kit that includes a grip bar and whichever Rycote windscreen is appropriate for each particular recorder, even though only the H2N variant seems to be in stock in the few stores that list it at all. And it must be a really nice grip bar that comes with it, because buying the suspension mount, windscreen, and an Ikan grip bar costs a whole lot less than buying the full package from B&H.

And while it goes beyond the scope of this review, one of the smarter things I've done is attach my old "Ultrapod II" to the bottom of my grip bar, giving me the isolation of the shock mount even when I'm using the recorder on a tabletop-sized tripod. Highly recommended.

The Rycote suspension mount takes some forum flack for being expensive, but given that there's no competitor to judge it against, it's hard to say how much something like this "should" cost. From what I see in microphone suspension mounts it doesn't seem unreasonable, and it's nice to know that Rycote consistently ranks above the competition, so we're not really missing out by not having a plethora of choices. And yes, I am a lifelong Apple Macintosh owner – why do you ask?

What makes me happy is that it's a zero-maintenance design: unlike the elastics that some makers use, Rycote's plastic "lyre" system will never wear out. That's worth something in running costs, spare-parts logistics, upkeep, and simple peace-of-mind.

Owning the Rycote has led me to a trap, though: it's so good, and so nice to use with the pistol-grip bar, that I automatically include the time to add it to my recorder when deciding if I have a chance of taking the Sony out to catch something that's happening around me. I forget that I could just hand-hold the recorder if I'm in a hurry, letting me avoid the two-step deployment process. Ah, well. It's not strictly a product fault, but be warned that having a suspension mount can be habit-forming.

last updated 25 jan 2013

Ultra-Pod II Table-Top Tripod

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: I still want a new Gorillapod.

The Long Version: It's easy to take things for granted when they're inexpensive, lightweight, and plastic, and that's what I've done with my 'Ultrapod'. Officially the named the Ultra-Pod II – it's moulded into the product – the name of the actual manufacturer seems to change depending on who you ask.

The Ultrapod is ideally suited to small SLRs or the typical mirrorless camera, which it holds quite well. The rather large footprint does a good job of compensating for its light weight. It's not suitable for larger cameras or longer lenses, though, since there's a bit of spring in it when it's feeling stressed.

I've owned this little tripod for over a decade, and have carried it often enough that the silver paint has worn off. I've also lost the rubber anti-slip foot from the main leg, which has been effectively replaced with hockey tape. But like all of my tripods, I've never really intensively used it – they're for special occasions – but the ultrapod has always been what I've reached for when I want something small and lighter, if weaker, than my Manfrotto tabletop tripod.

The Ultrapod uses a double-jointed attachement for the camera. The top is something of a ball joint, letting the camera pivot and rotate, although it has limited side to side movement, while the lower joint is only a single-axis pivot point. This double joint means that the camera, or whatever, can lie flat on its back along the body of the folded tripod. That's a rare thing to need, but it solves an uncommon problem for me.

I use a shock mount and grip bar to hold my audio recorder, and the Ultrapod screws onto the end of it. It adds almost no weight, holds securely as long as the recorder stays centered, and folds over on itself to fit in the bag. So after all these years of owning it the Ultrapod is finally in regular service, doing a job that no other tripod design could. What can I say? I execute excellent planning, even when it's matched with lousy timing.

last updated 19 jan 2013

Joby Griptight Smartphone Mount

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: They need to be everywhere.

The Long Version: The Joby Griptight is a clever little device that spring-clamps to a phone, folds flat for storage, and attaches to any tripod. It's a natural with the Joby Micro 250 – the smaller model of the Micro 800 that I've previously reviewed – which is how I typically use it.

When attached to one of Joby's Micro tripods it will only hold a phone in 'landscape' mode. Now, I rarely use my phone for photos or video, but this is perfect for propping the phone up on a table for watching videos. I've used this product for watching a couple of episodes of The Nature Of Things, so owning it has actually made me smarter. I've never said that about any other photographic or phone accessory, so that's a win right there.

The nice thing is that the Joby Griptight is that it's brand-agnostic. Many iPhone-specific tripod adapters won't even work with the phone in a case, but even my bulky Speck Candyshell Grip case – yes, terrible name – fits with no problem. I even borrowed an Android phone from the only person I know who has one, and it fit with no problem as well. I measure its widest span at about seven centimetres, which should accomodate just about anything that can be sensibly carried in a pocket.

I usually try to have something insightfully critical of the products I review, but in this case I'm coming up empty. It's not going to become a family heirloom, but it's solidly built and the judicial combination of metal and plastics keep it light. This little thing is actually the reason why I finally bought an x-mini capsule speaker: they combine to create my end-table home theatre. The Griptight is a good solution to a simple problem, and it folds down and stows easily when it's not needed. How could anyone not like that?

last updated 2 dec 2012

Joby Gorillapod Micro 800

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: Long-term testing may revise those numbers.

The Long Version: I'm one of those "magical purchase" people – I have this idea that bridging the distance between me and perfection is just a matter of finally finding the right thing to buy. For many people this causes a proliferation of unused home exercise equipment, for me it results in an aberrantly high number of tripods.

But the real insidious nature of this thinking isn't that it never works: it's that it sometimes does.

The Joby Gorillapod Micro 800 is one of those vexing exceptions. It's a tiny tripod that can stay attached to a small camera without making it unwieldily. Although I've only owned mine for a little while, it has let me take better photos more easily, and I haven't had to sacrifice anything in exchange for having it with me.

The branding decision that resulted in the "Gorillapod Micro" name is unfortunate, since it bears absolutely no resemblance to Joby's famous (and often badly copied) line of flexible Gorillapods. It really should be called the "Joby Micropod" and promoted more prominently on their website; I went looking for it after seeing one that someone else owned, and it was remarkably hard to find. I didn't know its full name at that point, and for some reason it doesn't rate a front-page photo.

Joby does redeem themselves somewhat by encoding the weight capacity into the full name, though: the JGP Micro 800 holds 0.8kg – 800 grams, 1.75 pounds – and is intended for Mirrorless Interchangeable Lens Format ('MILF') cameras. There's also the Micro 250 – 0.25kg – that's more size-appropriate for point-and-shoot models, but I'm happy to have the bigger one.

When on a mirrorless format camera, such as my Panasonic GH1, the Micro 800 just blends in with the bottom of the machine. There's simply no need to ever take it off. I can even leave it attached to either of my little compact cameras when I tuck them in a pocket, although the folded legs do extend beyond their bodies. I don't mind this – it works as a more effective hand grip – but the smaller, lighter, and weaker Micro 250 is a good option if that's likely to be an objection.

There are a few functional compromises in exchange for the low profile of the simple and sleek Micros. One is that its 'positioning ball' has only a limited range of movement – if this was a big tripod it would be called a levelling base. So forget about astrophotography or portrait orientation, but very few people actually use little cameras for either of those tasks.

The other thing that it can't do is lock itself in place: there's no adjustment to the tension of the positioning ball or legs. In practice this isn't much of a limitation, but it may mean that cameras with off-centre tripod mounts, or long lenses, won't play well with the Micro even if their weight isn't completely out of bounds. Conversely, I can rest my three-pound Hasselblad on the Micro 800 quite comfortably, although I wouldn't use it for long exposures. So holding power is quite good, although the idea of twisting the camera against the full tension of the Micropod does take a few days to feel natural.

But the lack of tension adjustability is a faint little concern in the back of my mind. My Micro is still fairly new, but I'll either update this review or write a follow-up with the results of longer-term use, probably in six months or so.

The design of the Micro 800 is quite satisfying. It weighs enough to feel solid and strong, but not so much as to be objectionable. The rubber feet are grippy enough for good traction without snagging on fabric if it's being carried in a pocket or bag. And the design of the pivot, as well as interlocking flanges and grooves on the legs, should let it withstand quite a bit of wear and tear in daily use.

There is one choice to make when using the Micro: how tightly it should be attached to the camera. There's a coin-activated screw slot on the bottom, and when it's used to attach the Micro to the camera then it won't unscrew during regular use. The other option is to just use the legs of the Micro to twist itself into place, but then it can unscrew depending on how the legs and camera are turned. I usually don't use a coin to tighten the tripod screw, but if I was only using the Micro on one camera, I might make that occasional extra effort.

I own a little beanbag, a Manfrotto "pocket tripod", three small tabletop tripods, and two gorillapods. I use none of them on a regular basis, and despite developing a certain affection for long exposure photographs with my little Canon S100, could never bring myself to carry any of those bigger devices with me when I was just taking advantage of impromptu opportunities. Now that has completely changed. The Micro 800 is easy enough to use, and useful enough to have, that I will switch it to whatever little camera I happen to be using that day. The result is that some of my photos have become much better – almost like magic.

Added: I've now had a chance to play with a Joby Micro 250, and it's pretty awesome, too. Plenty of strength for a point-and-shoot camera, merges perfectly with the base of my Canon S100, and even had an attachment that would let it hold my phone in its case. One – or two – of them have been added to my 'must buy' list.

Added Again: Proving that I'm more prescient than I think I am, I have indeed bought two of the Joby Micro 250. The first was with the Griptight phone mount, which I've reviewed, and the second time was just the 250 tripod when I lost the first one. My Micro 800 is still going strong and is now used with my Nikon V1 system.

last updated 17 nov 2013

The (Black) Pod (camera beanbag)

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: Just as useful as the yellow one - but for much bigger cameras.

The Long Version: Sometimes I'm my own worst enemy. When I write a review I can talk myself into something that might not otherwise occur to me. It happened with a flashlight, and it happened with the Yellow Pod. The Pod (dot ca) makes beanbag camera supports that are a little different from the usual lumpy bags, and after spending time with their smallest one under my little Hasselblad, I started to think about how useful their biggest one would be for my big Fuji. Five and a half months later I bought it.

The Black Pod is the largest model, and has a centred 1/4" camera mounting screw. (The Silver model is the same size, but with an off-centre mount, making it better for SLRs with long lenses.) It's about eight inches across and three inches high, and it weights better than two and a half pounds. It has velcro pads on the mounting surface, and includes little velcro 'buttons' to match, as well as four lash points. Those look a lot like shoelaces, but I'm sure they're much fancier than that.

I picked up the Black pod so that I can use impromptu support instead of carrying a massive tripod. When it won't fit inside my backpack it can be clipped to the outside via its lash points, and its squishiness makes it easy to fit inside my bike pannier. It's certainly not small, but any equipment that needs it will also be big enough to keep it in perspective.

My Black Pod's first outing was to the Leslie Street Spit, which is a combination nature reserve and construction landfill site. Naturally, I head to the side with the old power poles and rebar. I'm pleased to say that the day of perching on broken bricks and concrete slabs left its tough base dirty but undamaged. Shifting the camera into position with the black pod is easier than it is with the little yellow one, and while I occasionally missed having my tripods' ability to pick and choose my position, I wouldn't have wanted to carry one instead.

The proof of anything photographic is in the photos, and the Black pod is absolutely able to hold such a big camera. I can see crisp details in the scanned negatives that I never noticed when I was taking the photos. I did use good photographic hygiene – the day was bright enough that I kept the shutter speed at 1/125 or 1/250 (at f/22 or f/32) and used the mirror lock-up most of the time. Something as supportive as the Black Pod shouldn't have any problems with that, and now I'm looking forward to seeing just how far I can push it.

last updated 20 july 2011

Manfrotto 460MG 3D Head

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's just fun to play with.

The Long Version: Tripod heads are one of those things that can completely ruin a pleasant day. Tripods themselves are bulky, heavy, and slow, but they're passive bordering on inert. It's the fiddly little heads that can cause real problems if they get an attitude and refuse to cooperate.

For several years I've used two different tripods: a 486RC2 ball head on a light tripod, and a 410 geared head on a heavy set of legs. This has worked quite well for me, even though – or possibly because – I never used my 'light' tripod for any extended period of time. I don't really like ball heads, I just like them better than bulky three-way heads, and tolerate them for the times when I need something smaller, or quicker, than the awesome 410 geared head. I only brought my light tripod and 486 back into regular service once I added a Hasselblad 500c/m to my collection, and I was reminded yet again just how little I like ballheads.

And then I accidentally tried my Hasselblad on an 804RC2 three-way head, and it was almost enough to make me like pan/tilt heads again. It doesn't have anyting like the precision of my geared head, but the ability to put the camera almost where I want it in each axis individually was much better than tying to lock the ball in place when all three were mostly right at once. The insurmountable problem with the pan-tilt option was its size: the height of the contraption itself, and the length of the control arms, defeated the point of having a compact travel tripod. Clearly, a special order was called for and shopping ensued.

The Manfrotto 460MG is what they call a "3D" head, which appears to designate one that can move the camera off-centre from the tripod. While they aren't entirely consistent, they also call the 056 a "3D" head, and it's what the 460MG would look like if it was designed to cost twenty-five dollars. Not particularly refined, but essentially the same interesting idea.

The 460MG is a three-way head without all of the space issues. It replaces the long control handles with simple knobs, and places its pivots on arms instead of in a column. The off-centre pivots gives it a lower profile than a traditional design, but it behaves differently than ballheads or pan/tilt heads. With the 460 there's nothing underneath the camera to stop it from swinging downwards when the locking knob is loosened, so making roll or pitch adjustments with the 460MG is always a two-handed job.

With that little quirk out of the way, the 460 becomes very easy to deal with. It's actually difficult to come up with positions that the camera can't reach – up, down, flipped, sideways – making it an economical challenger to the Gitzo off-centre ball head in the competition for the most adjustable camera support. While the 460MG is a good match for my light Sport-family Gitzo, it would be equally at home on their Explorer series or other tripods with centre columns that can be locked at odd angles.

The control knobs are easy to grip and large enough that they lock and unlock securely, but it did take me a while to learn to keep my knuckles out of their way. Having spent some considerable time 'in the field' (actually 'on the shore') with mine, I was pleased to see that it wasn't much of a knuckle-buster in actual use, even with gloves on. But do be careful to make sure that it's as tight as you think it is before picking up and moving the tripod, because the camera can be held in taking position even when it's not completely locked in place. I flopped the `blad into the tripod a couple of times before I really took this seriously.

Unfortunately the 460MG shares the very slight creep that afflicts almost every head that costs less than hundreds and hundreds of dollars. Simply put, it's the rule that the tripod head will sag ever so slightly when it's locked, except for when the photographer tries to compensate for that sag, in which case the head will hold exactly where it was stopped. What can I say? Tripod heads can have an attitude.

One of the words crowdsourced reviews often use to describe the Manfrotto 460MG is "Light". I have to admit that I found that puzzling. Manfrotto lists its weight as 430 grams, making it only a trivial ounce ligher than the popular 486RC2, and hardly anybody calls that ball head 'light'. Even worse, the 460MG has a rated load capacity that's only half that of the more popular ballhead. But in the hand the airy 460MG really does give an impression of lightness that the dense 486 can't match – I had to put them both on the scale to confirm than Manfrotto's published weights are indeed correct. If nothing else, it's a good example of how unreliable subjective opinions are, especially when they echo the marketing blurb.

The mounting system on the 460MG, and other three-way Manfrotto heads, is subtly different from those found on their ball heads. For the 460 the mounting plate is held in place within the base on three sides, and is locked in with the cam lever on the fourth. Ball heads use only the cam and a narrower tongue on the opposite long edge of the mounting plate for grip, which means that the plate only fits in one direction. The 460MG is bidirectional – allows the camera to be set up facing 'forward' or 'backward' – which is very useful because sometimes even the small control knobs get in the way. I wish my other heads could do the same trick.

Naturally, it wouldn't be a Manfrotto product without a bubble level, and the 460 builds one in where the camera mounts. I'm not sure how this could be seen with the camera in place, but when being level really matters I haven't hesitated to remove the camera and have a look. I've also added a large bullseye level to the non-rotating portion of the base, mostly covering the rotation indices, to ensure that I can level the tripod before panning the camera. I've only used that ability once in the twelve rolls of film that I've shot since modding the tripod, but it still would have been a nice feature for Manfrotto to build into a hundred-dollar head.

I've never been a huge fan of ball heads, but I always disliked three-way heads more. It turns out that I was trying to answer the wrong question. There is no perfect ballhead for quick and convenient use with a small camera: the solution is to just not use a tripod when speed or flexibility matter. Using the 460MG for the times when a tripod does matter, such as with macro or medium-format photography, has completely changed my opinion of pan-tilt heads. I suppose I'll keep my old 486RC2 head for the times when its higher weight capacity really matters, but I can't imagine using it very often.

last updated 31 mar 2011

Manfrotto 338 Levelling Base and 394 Quick Release

Concept:  3 out of 5
Execution:  2 out of 5
Yeah, but:  Scores are for the 338 base, reverse them for the 394QR.

The Long Version: If there's one thing that I really excel at as a photographer, it's my ability to find exotic hardware from Manfrotto. After just a few outings with my big Bearlebach tripod, I was imagining a better way to level a heavy camera than what a ballhead can do. Something using screws, one of the core simple machines, would allow ample adjustability and strength. I did seek it in the Manfrotto book, and lo, there is was: the 338 QTVR levelling base. Fancy that.

While the nomenclature sounds outdated – do people still say Quicktime Virtual Reality? – the 338 levelling base is 1.3 pounds of solid utility. Three heavy screws are used to adjust the angle of the top plate, and these are controlled by generous knurled disks while being restricted by range-limiting knurled nuts on the bottom. The design is essentially immune to the loads that it's able to carry; rated at a 15kg capacity - 33 pounds - this levelling base handles my Fuji GX680 like it's not even there.

The Manfrotto 338 would typically be positioned between the tripod and the head where it can provide a level platform for panning the camera. My somewhat unorthodox arrangement has me using two different levelling bases in combination, as the Berlebach 3032 tripod has a built-in limited-range ball head. While that seems doubly redundant, it lets me use the ball for coarse adjustments that need more and faster movement, while the screw mechanism of the 338 is perfect for the slower and smaller fine adjustments. Manfrotto naturally makes both types – the 438 is the other one – and it's always good to have a say about which compromise between freedom and restriction will be best.

The 338 base ships with only the larger 3/8" attachment screw, in the form of a decidedly unsexy bare bolt, and it would take some ingenuity to step that down to a 1/4" thread to directly attach a camera. A quick-release system solves that problem, and I went with the 410PL/RC4 system that my 410 geared head uses. This is a big plate that attaches to the 394QR, and it's both more solid and easier to mount than the smaller RC2 system that's used on the lighter Manfrotto heads. The quick release itself is typical mid-high Manfrotto quality: heavy, solid, and with a couple of small bullseye levels built into it.

The 338 falls down a bit with its attachment bolt. Unlike the three screws that change the angle of the platform, there's no way to lock it in place through only part of its travel. This means that whatever is attaching to the top ends up in a random position when it's tightened: there's no way to set the QR plate to be square to one of the levelling screws. While it wouldn't really matter if a panning base or ballhead was added on top of it, it makes it slightly more complex to level a big camera that can attach directly to the 338. This isn't a huge complication, but it's inelegant; while this fault doesn't even apply its intended use, if I wanted a product that could only be used the way the manufacturer wants it to be, I'd buy an iPad.

My only other hesitation with the 338 and 394 is their weight; using this combination puts almost an additional kilogram onto the pointy end of the tripod. That's not a decision to make lightly, if you'll pardon the expression, but life and photography are full of compromises. The additional refinement and control improves the heavy Berlebach enough that it becomes more pleasant to use and easier to adjust, which leads to better photos all around. The 338 is an esoteric piece of equipment, but it works perfectly for what I need it to do.

last updated 4 mar 2011

The (Yellow) Pod (camera beanbag)

Concept:  2 out of 5
Execution:  3 out of 5
Yeah, but: THE annoying website needs to be forgiven.

The Long Version: Beanbags aren't exciting, and the Pod is no exception. I bought mine many years ago and have only used it sporadically since then. In fact I've forgotten that I own it for months or years at a time, only to rediscover it at the back of the cabinet, look at it, and then put it away again.

As a review, this must not sound too promising, but my point is that sometimes I'm not too bright.

I didn't have it with me last christmas, when I had to balance a camera on the back of a couch because I was away from home and neither of my two (2) Gorillapods would fit in my camera bag. I didn't have it when I was on a trip with my long Sigma 180 Macro lens, where its vinyl base wouldn't have been affected by the dampness left over from a weekend of drizzle. And I haven't thought to use it for any of the impromptu product photography for this blog, even though holding the camera still(er) and just a little above the table is usually what I need to do.

Despite its unglamorous and unassuming nature, the Pod can be a handy thing to have.

Yellow Pod holding a Hasselblad and CF 150mm f/4 lens

The Pod is a little different from a conventional beanbag, which is usually nothing more than a small lumpy pillow. Instead the Pod is a squat fabric cylinder with a tough vinyl-ish bottom and a threaded mounting screw on the top. It can be used as a monopod replacement, stabilizing the camera to give an extra couple of stops on a long lens or slow shutter, where it has the combination of movement and stability that you'd get from a squishy ballhead. Any beanbag is just an intermediary between the camera and its improvised support, and for this job the Pod doesn't need to be large since it stays with the camera as it moves.

But if the camera is balanced properly, the Pod is also a light-weight travel-tripod replacement, able to hold the camera securely on rough or sloped surfaces as much as 30 degrees off horizontal. To this end there are a half-dozen different models with various sizes and mounting methods, but the one that works for an SLR with a prime lens may not suit the same camera with a basic zoom. Of course there's no rule that says that you must have the camera attached to the tripod mount, but if the Pod's going to be used with one particular camera and lens, it makes sense to get the right one. Choose carefully to avoid disappointment – ideally from a local store with a good exchange policy.

In a possible nod to its compatriot, the Robertson screwdriver, each model is identified by its colour. The yellow version that I use is the smallest size with a centered tripod screw; the Red is their medium size and is probably the best general-purpose pod for cameras that balance near their tripod mount. The most-popular Green model has an offset tripod screw for cameras with longer lenses. Black is their biggest size - like the screwdriver - and it would make an interesting companion for my GX680. Blue and Silver round out the collection, and like the Green they feature off-centre mounting for various sizes of camera.

The bottom of the Pod is tough and grippy, and has a seam that's secured with a velcro-like material. Inside are billions of little plastic pellets that are just waiting to escape, so don't open it unless you have to. But if you're traveling and space is critical, this gives the option of carrying it empty and filling it with sand, dried beans, or little plastic pellets once you arrive. I've had to open mine up and empty it so that I could tighten the mounting screw, which had retracted into the Pod over its years of occasional use. A #2 Philips screwdriver was all I needed to snug it back up to the solid plastic disk that forms the camera platform, and with patience I was able to get almost all of those little plastic beads back in.

I've brought my Pod out of retirement because it's a good match to my little travel camera, and it lets me take photos in places that wouldn't allow tripods. Now that I'm using it again I can see many times when it would have been helpful in the past, and I don't think I'll make those mistakes again. I'm not going to run out to buy any of the other sizes, but I have to admit that I've been considering it, if only a little. Having a Red or Black one would be pretty handy.

last updated 30 jan 2011

Berlebach Report 3032 Tripod

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 1 out of 5
Yeah, but: Perhaps all tripods are vaguely annoying.

The Long Version:  It's hard to miss: Berlebach tripods are made out of wood. Well-seasoned ash hardwood, to be precise, stylishly accessorized with black hardware. They have a look to them that speaks of tradition and perhaps a little willful stubbornness. When I went shopping for a tripod to put under a monster medium-format film camera, it seemed like a good fit.

Choosing wood came easily. I swore I'd never buy another metal tripod after I used one in the winter, but the price of a carbon tripod that's sturdy enough for a ten-pound SLR - my beloved Fujifilm GX680III - would have me living in a tent. Wood is strong and resists vibrations very well, so after a lot of thought, the Berlebach Report 3032 came home with me from New York. And yes, I declared it, and it just happened that the customs agent was a photographer as well. Air travel really has made the world a smaller place.

Many Berlebach tripods have a built-in levelling ball with thirty degrees of travel; for a camera with a rotating back or a lens with a tripod collar, that's likely to be plenty of movement. The 3032 has a spring-loaded camera mounting screw instead of a centre column, and has only two leg sections, making it very long even when collapsed. I've given up a lot of convenience in exchange for strength by picking this particular model; there are other models that are less extreme and/or more practical. But where's the fun in that?

The 3032 is rated for twelve kilograms and weighs about seven pounds, which is almost twice the weight of the Gitzo carbon legs and ballhead that can handle the same load for four times the price. The aluminum Manfrotto 028 'triman' leg set, which is about the same bulk as the 3032 but with a geared centre column, weighs a kilo more and has the same carrying capacity. Every tripod offers its own set of compromises, making direct comparisons difficult, but as a material wood needs no excuses.

The levelling ball and easy-attach base were two of the features that most appealed to me about the 3032. But alas, not everything has worked out the way I hoped it would. While the levelling ball is strong and works very well, I have never particularly liked ball heads. I was hoping this one would win me over, but I constantly miss my Manfrotto 410 head with its ultra-fine gear-driven adjustments. Attaching the camera directly to the tripod without a quick release is very secure, and the spring-loaded tripod screw does make it very easy to attach a lightweight camera and lens - like a D700 and 105VR - but it just runs and hides when I try to finesse my ten-pound rollfilm SLR onto it. There are clearly some compromises in my future: either I'll need to relearn how I use a tripod or change how this tripod works. Most people, especially those without my love of complicated solutions to simple problems, will probably be quite happy with the tripod right out of the box.

My favourite tripod leg-lock design is Gitzo's excellent twist mechanism, which is fast and easy to secure. The best thing about them is that, unlike the cams of flip-locks, they're self-correcting: when they're tightened, they're tight. The screw-lock legs on the Berlebach are slower to use, but also give a positive lock and are perfectly suited to the material. If the wood expands or contracts, it just needs a few turns more or less to compensate. And the speed that I lose to the knobs is easily regained by having ruler-like indices on the legs to help set them all to the same length. I don't know why this isn't mandatory for all tripods.

The feet for the Berlebach are a hard plastic that screw down over spikes; the platforms on the metal end caps are to help drive the spikes into the ground. The hard plastic feet are excellent on concrete, but are too slippery to use on smooth surfaces. There's also no detent or locking screw that will hold the plastic feet down over the spikes, so hardwood flooring is a bad surface for a couple of good reasons. My little basalt Gitzo 1930 was clobbered by the Berlebach when I trialled them outdoors in strong winds, but the stability situation is reversed indoors in the classic camera-store press-and-wiggle test. Having to add industrial carpet to my studio isn't exactly what I had planned when I wanted to get the sturdiest tripod that not a lot of money could buy.

Another interesting quirk with my 3032 is that the leg pivots have very little friction. I usually carry my tripods by only one leg, but doing that with the Berlebach results in it unfolding itself. I've solved that problem by wrapping a strap around its ankles; it's a reflective one that I have for my bike, and is clearly visible in the lead photo. Ultimately it's not that big of a deal: it's just one more little thing to keep track of, which is part of the fun of photography. Because of the length, weight, and bulk of the wooden tripod, I'll use a tripod bag with handles and a shoulder strap when I need to transport the Berlebach any significant distance.

The leg locks on the Berlebach have three positions: roughly 20 degrees, 45 degrees, and 'off'. Theoretically the spikes or feet can be used to set the legs at any angle, but in practice I wouldn't want to put that much faith in them at anything lower than the (lockable) 45 degree setting. That gives the 3032 an effective minimum height of just over two feet, so there's no low-level benefit from not having a centre column. The tripod legs can also pivot beyond 90 degrees - except for the one that's blocked by the tension knob for the levelling ball - so the 3032 won't even provide a stable support when it's completely splayed out on the ground. Not that any of my tripods that lock at eighty degrees are worth anything in that position - there's far too much spring in the legs for that. But they don't claim that they have a minimum height of 3.5", which might be technically true for the 3032, but it certainly isn't useful.

There's a small subset of photographers who are genuinely "Tripod People", but I've never been one of them. I find them all - tripods - vaguely annoying and rarely worth their inherent inconvenience. By that standard the Berlebach compares quite favourably: somewhat annoying, physically and photographically inconvenient, but also tremendously strong, relatively inexpensive, and not metal. It does exactly what I bought it for, should last for decades, and has caused more conversations with complete strangers than any other tripod I own. Despite the way this review consists of little more than complaints strung together with stilted prose, I can recommend a Berlebach tripod to anyone who's looking for their combination of features and price. Just be aware that it behaves a little differently from the other tripods out there, and has its own learning curve. I can't say that I've become best friends with mine, but we're working it out.


updated two years and nine months later: One of the biggest nuisances about the 3032 is that its plastic feet are too slippery to grip properly on hardwood floors – they just skate along on any smooth surface. Today I fixed that with a $3 roll of hockey tape. Now the tripod is rock solid and is vastly more useful.

For non-Canadians: hockey tape is adhesive fabric tape that wraps around the blade of the hockey stick. It's designed to grab the puck, so its surface is both durable and grippy, and not at all bouncy the way shock-absorbing tape for a hand grip would be. I haven't yet seen how it will hold up on concrete, but ultimately it doesn't matter. A lifetime supply of tape costs about three bucks. They even make it in different colours.

For Canadians: hockey isn't our national sport. Get over it.

last updated 5 aug 2012

Manfrotto 341 Junior Elbow Bracket

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: Warning: Choking Hazard-Small parts. Not for children under 3 years.


The Long Version: The Manfrotto 341 is an "L" bracket that's compatible with the popular 200PL / RC2 quick-releases. There are two plates that can attach to the tripod head, and the camera is screwed onto the long arm of the L. It also comes with all kinds of little brass bars that are designed to stop the camera from rotating under heavy loads, but in a stunning move from the Manfrotto engineering team, the screw for the camera itself isn't captive to the plate. Or more simply: it falls out. When the plate isn't attached to the camera, I need a little spring-clamp to hold it in place. Ridiculous.

The bracket is heavy but strong, and like a lens collar, it's a great way to keep a camera's weight centred on the tripod in a vertical composition. I use it to hold the camera vertically on my 454 positioning plates, which are heavier than I'd want to tip to the side. The elbow bracket is sized to accommodate cameras that are much larger than the typical DSLR, and when used as directed (photo above) it places the camera quite high on the bracket. I typically mount the camera so that it's facing against the "Lens" arrow puts it lower, but that does block the grip-side memory card slots. The plate will also block most cameras' bottom-loading battery compartments no matter which direction it's facing. The Manfrotto 341 is a generic one-size fits all product, and it shows.

There are many companies that make custom-tailored brackets to fit individual cameras, and I have no doubt that they're excellent. They're also designed to use the Arca-Swiss mounting plates, which isn't what the popular and common Manfrotto heads use. The price penalty of jumping systems is huge: to replace my 410/2x454/323/341 head assembly with one offering similar functions from another brand would cost as much as buying another D700. There's the best, and then there's good enough: Manfrotto offers a functional and useful product, even if it does have some compromises and one glaring fault. All told, I'm perfectly happy with it.


But seriously, how could they make it so that the attachment screw just falls out?