Olympus XA

Concept: 5 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: What digital compact will still be used 30 years from now?

The Long Version: The Olympus XA is small. Very, very small. More than thirty years after it was introduced, it's still the worlds smallest rangefinder camera that takes 35mm film. The XA has a non-collapsing 6-element 35/2.8 lens that covers the full 24x36mm frame, and has a built-in light meter for electronically-controlled aperture-priority exposure. The entire depth of the camera, measured from the front of the lens cover to the back of the film door, is thinner than the distance from the lens mount to the sensor plane in any 35mm or APS SLR.

While it's not an auto-everything camera that can be handed to a random local for a quick tourist portrait, it's simple enough to use that it could be mistaken for a manual-focus point-and-shoot. Compared to the pseudo-Victorian clockwork-complexity of the similarly-sized Rollei 35, which has a collapsing lens and a guess-the-distance focusing system, it comes across as a cheap plastic toy. But despite its appearance, the XA is a solid and tough little camera; while it may not equal the controllability of its bigger classmates, its capabilities are far greater than its size suggests.

For Olympus to create a tiny a six-element lens that can cover the full 35mm film frame without critical quality issues is amazing. Sharpness is very good, and it shows just a mild pincushion distortion and moderate vignetting. Unusually for a rangefinder, the lens is apparently a telephoto, which allows it to be shorter than its focal length. To make a camera like the XA with a "full frame" digital sensor is probably impossible. Its closest modern cousin, the "APS-C" Sigma DP series, are 40% thicker even with their collapsable lenses retracted, but their lenses cover less than 45% of the XA's sensor area. The Olympus XA is small.

There are downsides to miniaturization, of course. The frame lines aren't corrected for parallax, so the composition is even more approximate than usual for a rangefinder. The lens is a 35mm f/2.8, which some people will think is slow, but that forgets that an f/number is actually a mathematical ratio. Much more significantly, the compact design means that the baby Olympus is very susceptible to the rampant finger-in-front-of-lens problem that just doesn't happen with big cameras. But considering that "the best camera is the one you have with you" school of though has resulted in published books of cell-phone photos, I'm happy to have something the quality of the thirty-year-old XA tucked in my back pocket.

The Olympus XA is the cosmic answer to all of those "compensating for something?" jokes that photographers face when they use big cameras with long lenses. It's small enough to hold in one hand and has a wicked hair-trigger.

The other size concession is to have an incredibly light touch on the shutter button. Intended to minimize camera-shake for people who are used to bigger and heavier bodies, it's a nasty shock when I'm habitually looking for a half-press-to-focus action from a camera this size. If I tried hard enough, I could probably trip the shutter with the brush on my Lenspen. My first roll of 24 exposures had three accidental frames on it; I've since learned to close the cover as soon as I'm done taking a picture, but I still accidentally trip a couple of frames in the typical 36-exposure roll. This isn't a camera to shoot dollar-a-frame chromes with. What's more, I'm not entirely convinced that the featherweight shutter cuts down on camera shake, but there's no real way for me to test that.

I bought the original XA model over its cheaper descendants because it's the only one with rangefinder focusing. So it's with a certain sense of incongruity that I have to report that the XA is really easy to use without looking at the camera at all.

With the camera cover safely closed, move the focusing lever to the right (shutter-button side) until the left-hand edge of the focusing tab is pointing down as much as possible. That's 3m, which the manual recommends to have everything in focus. To refine the focus a little more, moving the tab all the way to the right is infinity, and having it square to the bottom of the camera is 1.5m/4.5ft. When the right side of the tab is pointing down as far as possible it's at 1m/3ft, and all the way to the right is the minimum focusing distance, which is about arm's-reach away, although close distances really do benefit from the better precision of the rangefinder.

The manual suggests f/5.6 and 3m (9ft on American models) as the best all-purpose setting, but I like to err on the side of caution and use f/8 instead. Without looking at the camera, slide the aperture selection switch to either end – f/2.8 or f/22. Now move it three clicks toward the middle. That's f/8. As the saying goes, all that's left is to be there.

For night photography, it's really best to keep the XA at f/2.8. The starburst patterns from the four-bladed aperture are a long way from being subtle. Exposure compensation is also a challenge; there's a +1.5EV setting for dealing with contra-jour subjects, but otherwise the only control is to adjust the film speed. While I will mess around with that kind of detail for slides or digital, with 135 negative film I usually over-expose by as much as a full stop and everything scans in just fine.

The XA is still a 'serious' camera, but not one that demands very much in return. It's easy to carry and not monetarily valuable – it doesn't cost nearly what it's worth – so there's no reason to leave it at home or in the bag. It's probably not as good a camera as my Yashica GSN, and my Zeiss Ikon and 35/2 completely smokes it, but that comparison misses the point. The Olympus XA was the counterpart to the Canon AE-1 in the same way that its offspring, the Olympus XZ, coexists with whatever Canon Rebel happens to be current this week.

Not a lot of people routinely use film any more, but for those who do I don't need to explain its appeal. (For those who don't, I can't.) I could use a digital camera – I do own several of them – and compact snapshot cameras are an obvious candidate for digital replacement. The thing is that casual film photography is still very different from digital photography; its inherent unnecessariness adds something to the results. There's a lot to be said for the surprise and imperfection of film, and this little pocket rangefinder captures the essence of it. Long may it live.

last updated 30 oct 2011

Crumpler's The Grub camera pouch

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: I've finally added a "Neoprene" tag.

The Long Version: The Crumpler Grub is about as simple as a camera pouch can be. There's no zipper, no velcro – not even a draw string. Instead it's just two thin layers of everloving neoprene sewn into a tube that's closed on one end. There's a loop of ribbon that serves as a pull-tab to help put the camera away, and can be used to hold the pouch, but aside from that it really doesn't conceal any mysteries.

The Grub has no belt loop or strap attachment; this is just something to put the camera in before it's put in something else. It provides a little cushion if the camera is dropped – which is not to say that it's a good idea – and it discourages buttons from being inadvertently pushed. Most importantly it provides a barrier between the camera and other metal pocket-dwelling objects, like keys, coins, and small flashlights. For that reason alone my camera is almost always safely tucked away.

Size is important when choosing a Grub, since a good fit from the slightly stretchy neoprene is what holds the camera in place. The Large size fits my TS3 as well as the Canons S95 and SX230, Panasonic ZS8/10, and similarly-sized cameras, but it's too small for the Panasonic LX5 or Olympus XZ-1, and the Samsung WB210 just slides right out of it. Crumpler also makes The Grub in Medium, Small, and iPhone sizes. While it's available in black, the colour for mine is called "Rust Red", which is nice alliteration but not particularly accurate. Each size has a different fun-but-generic camera-graphic on one side, and the orange detailing on mine happens to be a nice match for my TS3.

Even the Large Grub is slimmer and less bulky than my zippered Kikkerland case, so that one has gone to live with a slightly larger camera that I've added to my collection. I'll use the Crumpler pouch the same way that I use the sleeves that I like for my phones: take the camera out, use it, and then slip it back into its little home. It's not an exciting thing to use, but it's satisfying to have the camera sheltered from nicks and scratches. For something that's not particularly expensive, it's well made and performs as expected.

last updated 25 oct 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