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  • Aperture-like projects and Lightroom July 27, 2014
    You can have an Aperture-like project structure providing you don’t make the mistake of thinking Lightroom folders are Aperture projects. Folders = (approx) Reorganise Masters Collection Sets + Collections = Projects, Albums, Books, Slideshows etc
  • Traffic July 10, 2014
    Visitor statistics in the wake of Aperture’s demise
  • Goodbye Mr Damocles? July 9, 2014
    Lightroom 5.5 brings a hugely-surprising change to how Lightroom behaves once you stop subscribing or after a trial ends. To appreciate the importance of the change, just imagine a couple of scenarios: You might try Lightroom for 30 days, import and work . . .
  • Aperture to Lightroom June 28, 2014
    Even before yesterday’s announcement about the end of Aperture, consistently the most-visited page on this site was Moving from Aperture to Lightroom.
  • Syncomatic matches by capture time June 22, 2014
    I’ve just updated my Syncomatic plug-in to version 2.0. This plugin synchronises Library metadata and Develop adjustments between pairs of files whose names match or from the top item of a stack to the other stacked items. What’s new is that . . .
  • One big folder? June 14, 2014
    Scott Kelby says put all images in one folder first. I want to stay with two folders is LR still appropriate? Ignore Scott’s advice. In general, organising photos isn’t one of his strong points. So, forget the idea . . .
  • Brush your mask June 3, 2014
    I wouldn’t normally link to Camera Raw 8.5 RC and DNG Converter 8.5 RC Now Available but notice this little addition to the graduated and radial filters: Modify Graduated and Radial Filter masks with a brush: After adding or selecting a Graduated . . .
  • Looking better? April 22, 2014
    Hopefully the site’s new look has settled down now. Do say if there’s anything wrong. I’ve also just removed the “Elsewhere” section which showed recent posts on other good Lightroom sites. I’ll restore it if people say it was useful, but . . .
  • Long term thinking April 9, 2014
    Maybe the most common response to yesterday’s announcement of Lightroom Mobile has been annoyance at it being tied to a subscription to Adobe’s Creative Cloud. I won’t defend that other than by saying that it was pretty inevitable given Adobe’s . . .
  • Lightroom for the pub? April 8, 2014
    Late September Adobe’s Tom Hogarty demonstrated a Lightroom app on the iPad, and a couple of months ago what looked like a draft announcement made a brief appearance on Adobe’s web site. It was promptly removed, but not before people . . .

Continuity

pablo1copyI enjoyed this interview with Magnum New York’s darkroom printer, Pablo Inirio, Magnum and the Dying Art of Darkroom Printing:

I was curious to see how the last few years of digital progress have affected things at Magnum, so I checked in with Inirio by phone this week. He was still there, bubbling with the good cheer that, along with his darkroom skills, have made him a favorite with Magnum photographers. In the three years since we met, he said, surprisingly little has changed at Magnum. He had to switch to Ilford paper when Agfa closed, and he hopes Kodak doesn’t take his stop bath away—but otherwise, things are the same. “Collectors and galleries still want prints on fiber paper—they just like the way it looks,” he said. He’s often called upon to print from current members’ film archives, and for the estates of various deceased members, like Dennis Stock and Henri Cartier-Bresson. The prints go to exhibitions, book publishers and private collectors. “I’m still pretty busy—in fact, I’m backed up,” he said with a laugh.

Magnum has been digitizing its archive, but so far, Inirio hasn’t been tempted to transfer his skills to the digital realm. “Digital prints have their own kind of look, and it’s fine, but fiber prints have such richness and depth,” he said.  He thinks darkroom printing will always be with us—after all, he pointed out, “people are still doing daguerrotypes.”

You can’t disagree that there’s a difference in look and feel, but I wonder how often people making such a comparison are thinking of digital images printed on ordinary inkjet paper, rather than on the more modern baryta-based printing papers. Even as one whose photographic roots lie in the darkroom, I’m enormously impressed by the look and feel of inkjet papers like Permajet’s Royal or Hahnemuhle’s Glossy FineArt (the two papers I use most with my Epson 3880).

But I was particularly struck by Inirio’s printing plans for some well-known pictures. It’s ten years since I really got my hands wet, and my own dodging and burning plans were usually sketched out mentally, but the method is familiar or second nature to any serious darkroom printer. More than that though, don’t his lines and ovals remind you of Lightroom’s local adjustments?

 

Aperture to Lightroom

Even before yesterday’s announcement  Apple To Cease Development Of Aperture, consistently the most-visited page on my Lightroom site was Moving from Aperture to Lightroom. Since the devil is always in the detail, I would encourage any Aperture refugees to read the comments as well as the article itself – there’s a lot of little insights from different people.

 

 

What seems to ruin a photograph can be its making?

I’ve always thought that photography helps you experience any subject – we appreciate clouds, architecture, events, faces – and when I first started taking pictures in the early 1990s I used to love nipping round to Speakers Corner, usually before or after a dim sum with friends.

Speakers Corner

Mobile video means there’s no longer a decisive moment to get a photo without phones. Is it really worth elbowing your way to the front?

In the beginning I certainly felt in tune with the underlying concept of the place. I saw Donald Soper, the great Methodist and Socialist orator, who had been familiar to me from his appearances on the BBC’s Any Questions and was well-known for having addressed Hyde Park crowds for 50 years. While I had my own doubts, and the dim sum gang used to tease me about going there, fundamentally I did believe that Speakers Corner was indeed a symbol of British free speech and open debate, and Soper seemed to embody that tradition’s continuing health. In those days other speakers engaged in serious political debate, there were Christian evangelists, one or two black nationalists, someone called William who claimed he was the reincarnation of Jimi Hendrix or Jim Morrison, and there was the odd Muslim, usually a British convert who had already morphed his way through a range of other religions before deciding to grow his beard and wear a turban. The exact mixture varied from week to week, and as a photographer you could happily develop your documentary skills. Shouldn’t every photographer know how to use their elbows?

As life moved on, I visited less often, maybe not for months, but by the end of the 90s it was very obvious that Speakers Corner was different. Soper had gone, politics was peripheral, and the place seemed dominated by religion. On one side were the bible bashers, West Indians, Americans, Northern Irish – no English, of course. On the other were Muslims who were much less benign than the hippy convert. These speakers, all men, seemed to arrive with small bands of bearded followers and were either English-speaking first and second generation immigrants from India, Pakistan, East Africa, or spoke Arabic and addressed an audience of foreign students and Arab-speaking visitors to the UK. Debate seemed far less important than preaching their word, and as an atheist it felt like photographing something that was of little more value than a freak show. Yes you could still exercise your picture taking skills, and the results could still be surprisingly interesting – I have pictures of at least one Muslim activist who subsequently got 10 years for involvement in terrorism.

Speakers Corner

Or when something gets in your way, can it become the subject of your picture?

In the last few years my my visits have become much more sporadic. Each time I go, the place just seems ever more frozen in religious dogma, the same tired characters pumping out variations on their tedious themes, and each time I go I seem to have even less sympathy – so much so that I struggle to find a lower description than freak show.

But something has certainly changed – “non-photographers” aren’t snapping photos any more, they’re recording video. You can’t just wait for them to compose their shot and put their phone back in a pocket because they seem to want to hold it in your way until their arms fall off. Even if you can elbow your way past them and get to the front, more phones are then ruining your background.

It means that I’m not sure I’m photographing Speakers Corner any more – it’s as if you’re photographing how we now experience the world. And I’m not sure that’s really a bad thing.

A perverse choice?

“Peak Film” for me was around 1999-2000. I went for a 6 week trip to Australia and Japan, then did a couple of trips to Iceland, Italy too, and I used to carry two Nikons and a Bronica SQA with a pair of film backs. The bag, a Billingham, also contained all the lenses and filters and the other things a photographer needs, plus rolls of Velvia, Ilford FP4 and HP5, Agfa APX25, and Tmax 3200, many in both 35mm and 120. Beardsworths may be bred for manual labour, but it was about as much as I could carry in comfort.

retriever

Remember the film leader retriever?

I did have a lighter setup. This involved winding back the Velvia mid-roll, retrieving the film’s leader so it was ready for re-loading, scribbling the frame number on a scrap of paper, and then loading whatever black and white film suited the subject. So “light” meant just a single Nikon and its lenses, my Bronica and the spare back….

When I bought my first digital camera, a Nikon D100 in 2003, one thing I immediately enjoyed was no longer “needing” two bodies. I could set the ISO with a dial, and decide upon colour or black and white later in the digital darkroom. After a while the D100 was replaced by a D200 which would itself be replaced by a D700, but the older camera always went into a drawer – not into the camera bag. So while my usual ThinkTank backpack is probably heavier than most people would tolerate, for the last 10 years I’ve only carried a single camera body.

Two things have made me wobbled though.

Much of the time I have little need for a second camera body, and can either rent or borrow one, but there are occasions when I know I lose great opportunities to get pictures. For instance, at historical re-enactments you just don’t get time to switch from a 70-200 zoom to a wide-angle when the cavalry decide to charge right past your shooting position. For a while I thought that the best solution would be a used D700, but then the 36 megapixel D800 was launched. Yet it seemed to early to replace my existing D700 and I remained pretty reluctant to carry a second body. It’s usually best to “keep your powder dry” until you’re clear what you want, isn’t it?

Another wave of temptation – or was it really curiosity? – has been the rise of the mirrorless camera in the last couple of years. Each new Olympus or Fuji seemed more appealing than the last, and every so often you’d hear that someone you respected would have bought one and was enthusing over it. In some cases they had switched entirely and disposed of their full frame Canon or Nikon gear. But while I handled many of these models, none had won me over and to me they all seemed more like alternatives to something like a Canon G16 than a a second main camera body. That was until I saw the XT1. The electronic viewfinder was the best I’d seen, and I liked the articulated LCD screen. For me the key to a new feature is if it lets you capture pictures which you wouldn’t have tried, and these screens let you compose with the camera placed on the ground or held way above your head, or maintain eye contact when you’re shooting portraits from a tripod. Although I suspect in the near future we’ll do that with phones or iPads (the XT1 already has wifi) I wish all high end cameras had these screens. And the Xt1′s one was nice.

On the other hand, these Olys and Fujis are called “compact system cameras” for a reason. A Fuji might weigh less than a second full frame body, but a second system would soon mean extra Fuji lenses and other accessories. I doubted I would be able to stop myself.

d800_switch

I like the redesigned focus mode switch that’s on new Nikons. The button provides access to focus point controls.

But what finally pushed me back to two bodies was something the Fuji also offered – video. Now, I confess, I have often teased videographers by questioning if moving pictures would ever catch on, and semi-seriously by likening video to vacuuming a scene rather than choosing the decisive moment (Jarvis Cocker says making Pulp documentary ‘like emptying a hoover’). I’ve not really changed my mind. I don’t want to get too deeply into video, but I’d like to see what I can do at re-enactments. One guy has been doing it, and the results seemed amateurish, but another is an experienced TV cameraman and did some fascinating 1200 frames/second slow motion on a £200 Nikon J1. With the kind of privileged access I get, plus knowing how to use the video features in Photoshop CS6 (and here), I’ve been wanting to see what I could do – and if nothing else, at least I’d get some sound effects I could use for slideshows. So one morning a couple of weeks ago, a D800 arrived at my door.

My first reactions were that it felt resolutely old-fashioned. No articulated screen, no wifi, no built-in GPS. On the other hand, the D800 felt like a nice progression and I liked the biggest change in handling, the replacement of the fiddly focus mode switch with a new design that was nicely-integrated with focus point control. It’s easy to switch to recording video and the hardest aspect has been to learn:

  1. You don’t reach for the shutter release when you see something interesting – it’s already rolling!
  2. You don’t compose in portrait mode
  3. Be prepared to wade through 5 minutes of crap – and find that’s all there is

Simple things, but it’s quite a mental shift between still photographer and videographer. Maybe it is temporary, just as it never seemed a big deal to go to the airport in my own car and then rent a left hand drive at the other end, or could it be more fundamental like when I used to play a lot of squash and could only adapt to tennis by switching entirely for the whole summer. We’ll see.

Cattows Farm

Don’t be fooled. They may be portraying Scots, have the right gear and even a bagpiper so competent that h=the sound doesn’t make you hope the Scots vote for independence. But these guys are mostly German (in fact Scots mercenaries had fought in the 3o Years War).

And one other thing the D800 has taught me – don’t forget your old disciplines. I say that because I shooting still photographs on the D700 when I ran out of card space on the D800 and put a card into its second slot. Surprised that it still contained some pictures from months ago, I formatted it – and managed to wipe the 32Gb card in the main slot and which had all the video and photos I’d shot earlier that day. Usually my practice is to download everything each evening and format all the cards before the next day, but 32Gb cards had made me complacent, and in the heat of the moment is when accidents happen. Luckily it had been near the end of the day and thanks to ImageRescue I lost nothing of value – apart from a day of my time.

A couple of weeks in. I still think getting a D800 feels like such a perverse decision, but I’m definitely getting used to it.

Future publishing

Interesting article on Future Publishing (hope my friends there are OK):

Magazines were once a two revenue stream business. You got money from advertisers and readers. Successful publishing depended on holding the balance between the two. This delicate equipoise has gone. As cover price revenue either declines or refuses to grow then the bulk of the money that pays your salary comes from advertisers, sponsors and commercial partners.

Seems to apply to photography publishing in general? We’ll all have to sully ourselves.

Driven to edit

Next time you scoff at the idea of using an iPad to edit photos, remember this ad – filmed on iPhones, assembled on an iPad, edited in a Bentley.

Just in case you’re wondering, I don’t think you need a new Mulsanne for this – you could do it just as well in an Audi.

And do it in black and white too – it looks better and there’s less need for colour management than the iPad can offer.

Via John Nack.

Is anyone still interested in Photoshop: Spring Cleaning?

I don’t know whether to post this on my Lightroom blog, as it’s a bit techy, or here since it’s really not about Lightroom. Also I’ve no idea if people read both sites or if visitors here would pick it up from the Lightroom Solutions feed at the top of the page, or to reveal a nagging doubt about blogging in general, maybe no-one reads either and am I just writing this for my own benefit? Feel free to reassure me. Is anyone there? ;)

Anyway, for my own interest or hopefully for yours too, after seeing something Rory Hill wrote on aspects of Bridge’s scripting being broken since CS6, I dug around a little and thought I should point out this post by Adobe’s Jeffrey Tranbery Photoshop: Spring Cleaning which provides some important information about the future of scripting and automation in Photoshop [CC]:

the following features will be removed from the next revision of Photoshop.

Extension Panels using Flash, including:

  • Mini Bridge
  • Kuler
  • Party Panels [Configurator]
  • Oil Paint filter

The decisions made were based on customer usage as well as the cost and ability to support and maintain changes in underlying technologies.

I always thought Mini Bridge was a waste of effort, so good riddance, but I liked Configurator and thought it was promising – not least because it could be used by people with fewer coding skills than me. However, my need to automate Photoshop is much less than it once was, and multi-image processing is handled much better by Lightroom with the addition of Photoshop droplets on the few occasions when the pictures needed some extra batch processing. So if I ever have the need, I suspect the Adobe Extension Builder and A Short Guide to HTML5 Extensibility will prove more than enough.

I like Kuler as a quick way to build colour schemes, and it’s good that an HTML5 version is coming. As for the Oil Paint filter, I did have a brief and passionate fling with it, but I can’t believe it’s a big loss.

 

Distilling the Karakorum

Well done to Richard Earney for pointing out this hour-long programme on Colin Prior which looks like it was on BBC Scotland last night. It concentrates on a project to photograph the Karakorum range in northern Pakistan and it’s particularly amusing to see the usually-rugged Prior needing a porter for his camera bag because of the altitude. As if the area wasn’t already remote, the expedition coincided with a massacre of climbers not far away. You don’t get to see many of his photographs for long and I couldn’t find any online (he seems to hold them back for book or other sales) but you certainly gain an appreciation of his dedication to “distil the landscape” – which seems such an appropriate phrase for a Scot.

Landing_Concordia-Pano_BW

1909 panorama by Vittorio Sella

There’s more about the filming here, and the programme will be on the BBC iPlayer for at least a week.

One major theme was the panoramas made by an Italian photographer, Vittorio Sella, during a 1909 exhibition. I couldn’t hear if it was the Duke of Abbuzzi whose baggage weighed 6 tons, or Sella’s, but it’s nothing new that royal families find ways of misspending public money like buying league titles or flying around Australasia shaking hands and waving, and Sella must have been glad that this member of the Italian royal family funded the trip and paid for the porters who lugged his glass negatives up into the mountains. If you’re interested in seeing more work by Sella, who was much admired by Ansel Adams, see this site.

Distant afternoons

No doubt a reflection of one’s own age, I fear this blog is in danger of becoming a series of obituaries. Not long ago it was Lou Reed, then Tony Benn, and I could easily have rambled on about Tom Finney even though his playing days were before I was born and he seemed the closest thing my Dad had to a hero. And now Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

I was in my second year at university when an Italian girlfriend introduced me to his work. She was already in her mid-twenties, and she seemed even more sophisticated and worldly a few weeks later when it was Marquez who won the Nobel prize. It was a time in my life when I was first encountering the wider world. Before then I’d never been outside England, and at school English Literature had never caught my imagination – endless analysis of “character development”  – but I’d recently discovered Kafka and Grass’s Tin Drum and would soon be a huge fan of Faulkner. I ended up reading one book after another, until I’d devoured everything he had written – or at least that I could find in Cambridge’s book shops and university library. As it’s a copyright library, that did mean everything.

I immediately took to Marquez’s flights of fantasy, always cut through with sharp reality – a priest who raised money for the village church by learning to levitate, until the soldiers came and beat him with their rifle butts. It’s interesting that this intercutting of the idyllic with polemics is highlighted in the Guardian’s 1970 review of his masterpiece One Hundred Years of Solitude:

The villagers are … astonished to find in the cinema that “a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears of affliction had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one.”

There is no agreement among the inhabitants of Macondo on the exact location of the borderline between fantasy and reality. Yet not even Macondo’s most obsessed lunatics are so arbitrary in their deployment of fantasy as the Colombian Government and its ally, American capital.

Thus a strike in a banana plantation that an American company establishes in Macondo is discouraged by the company lawyers’ assertion that its workers simply do not exist: ‘The banana company did not have, never had had, and never would have any workers in its service because they were all hired on a temporary and occasional basis.

When the workers finally do strike they are all shot and their bodies are secretly whisked away from Macondo by train at night. Yet a solitary surviving witness of the incident is not able to convince anyone that the slaughter ever occurred, and future generations of Colombian children are to read in their school textbooks not only that there was no slaughter, but indeed that there was never even a banana plantation in Macondo.

Sounds familiar? Certainly this passage reminded me of the little green men who weren’t in Crimea.

If you don’t know his work, try 100 Years of Solitude itself. It’s not heavy-going, unlike some big L literature, or just dip into some of his short story collections. Look for the story Big Mama’s Funeral, or No-one Writes to the Colonel.

I’d read somewhere that he had Alzheimer’s, but in his last moments, wouldn’t it have been great if García Márquez had looked back and remembered a distant afternoon in Macondo?

Photography on the BBC

I wonder if the BBC is having a photography week. On Sunday I noticed What Do Artists Do All Day? featured the great Albert Watson dragging his team of assistants around the beautiful, windswept landscape of the Isle of Skye. Driving round in an Audi and backed up by his team, it had the impression of photography on a big budget. While that takes something away, on the other hand it’s nice to see such a commercially-successful photographer enjoying taking pictures (I know some who no longer can do so). You just have to pity the poor tech assistant trying to use her laptop on a bleak hillside as the rain came in, again.

Then last night there was Which Way is the Front Line from Here? The Life and Time of Tim Hetherington who was killed in Libya a couple of years ago. He comes over as charismatic and brave, but what was amazing was how much he seemed to be revelling in the danger of places like Liberia and Afghanistan that would terrify most of us.

Is this stuff accessible outside the UK? I don’t know, but well worth watching both.

On great leaps forward

Is it such a bad thing to have a strong sense of diminishing marginal returns from new camera gear, or is it more a sign of confidence and feeling you know what counts? I ask this because over the last week I’ve looked at a new Nikon, the D4s no less, and expressed disappointment that it didn’t have an articulated rear screen. OK, I’m sure that the D4s is as wonderful as it is beyond my budget, but shouldn’t a camera that does do almost everything also give you the opportunity to compose a shot with the camera held high above your head or resting at ground level? I really see this omission as disappointing.

So I’m less of a gear head than people might suppose, more a May than a Clarkson or Hammond. Yet every so often I encounter a piece of kit that really, really impresses me, which is why I post this screengrab of the CamRanger.

Unfortunately the loan was both at very short notice and brief, and I didn’t have a better use for it than testing it on the corner of the living room while sitting in the kitchen, at the back of the house and with no clear line of sight back to the camera. But CamRanger really felt like a polished solution, from the small iPhone-sized device that plugs into the D700 and wifi-enabled the camera, to how the corresponding iPad app quickly connected to the camera and accessed its crucial settings.

A day’s play isn’t a real test, but CamRanger is definitely worth a try if you have a need to remotely control a camera. I have been a fan of Capture One’s Capture Pilot, but it is for tethered shooting and so it means carrying around a computer. I hadn’t even heard of CamRanger until a month ago but immediately thought it might interest a friend who shoots performing arts. Fixation loaned him one and he loved it, setting up his third camera on a tripod in a different part of the theatre and capturing alternative views without moving away from his position. One interesting observation was that although an iPad is in his bag, he found he preferred to control the CamRanger from his iPhone.

What really impressed me was the level of control that CamRanger provided:

  • In the screengrab you can see the live view image – you just have to imagine the camera’s nestled in the corner of the net as Wayne Rooney goes one-to-one with the keeper. There is a fractional delay when you press the Capture button, but in such circumstances you would often be shooting a burst of frames.
  • Along the top you can see the images you’ve captured – shooting RAW+JPEG seems the best way to see results quickly
  • Working down the right side, you can see focussing controls -  but what I really liked about CamRanger was that you can focus the camera by touching the picture itself. This was very slick.
  • At the middle right you can see “A”, so the CamRanger is picking up the stored settings on my Nikon. Nice.
  • Below the A are all the main exposure settings including bias. Are any crucial settings left out? I don’t think so.

So the overwhelming feeling I had from CamRanger was that it was a very polished and intuitive solution.

Returning to my initial thoughts though, I should soon be getting my hands on a Fuji XT1. And what has it got – an articulated screen and built-in wifi….

Tony Benn

Wapping

Tony Benn at Wapping, 2013, unveiling a plaque to Thomas Rainsborough, the radical Civil War colonel

Sad to hear this morning’s news about Tony Benn. He’d been quite frail when I saw him speak last year at the unveiling of a plaque to Thomas Rainsborough, and I’d recently heard he had been taken to hospital. So I wondered about him when Bob Crow’s sudden death was announced earlier this week, thinking that two of the great left wing figures might pass in a single week. But what coupled them in my mind wasn’t their political position but that both always put forward their views with a cleverness and charm that won them admiration and affection from those who disagreed and opposed them. From the other side I’d put Boris and Nigel Farage in the same group, but others like Thatcher or Scargill may gain the love of their supporters or followers but only earn grudging respect, if that, from their opponents. Benn always seemed a cut above the rest.

I heard him speak a few times, and met him twice, the first time back in the early 1980s when he was in his pomp and by a long way one the most inspiring orator I’ve ever heard. You didn’t have to agree with him, and I didn’t always, but his clever deployment of his ideas was wonderful and carried you in his slipstream. He looked frail when I met him last year, yet there was still the same old fiery glint in his eye as he wound up his speech and thanked the Sealed Knot for their role in the commemoration of Thomas Rainsborough. In the 1640s the radical Civil War leader had advocated one man one vote, and I wish I’d recorded what Benn said, but it was along the lines of… you know [pause for effect], if those in power thought voting would change anything they wouldn’t have given you the vote, and we’ve always had to be ready to fight. I think he was talking about the 1640s, but it sounded like a call to take up arms in 2013 and made me laugh, and I subsequently sent him a copy of this photo.

Ultimately though, I’ve long thought that Benn lost his way or rather chose the wilderness, so last Christmas I gave my nephew a copy of Benn’s memoirs and wrote in it something suitably Blairite about the price of holding tightly to principles being that you never gain the power to implement them. But that’s too sour a conclusion on one of the most engaging figures of our times.

What’s the (U) Point?

Interesting to see Nikon have sneaked out a beta of a new incarnation of Nikon Capture – called Nikon Capture NX-D – which is free to use until September  2014.

Capture NX, which I’ve owned ever since I went over to digital in 2003, never lit my fire. For one thing, I’ve just never felt there’s much benefit in a raw converter picking up in camera parameters such as white balance or monochrome which I would never set. In the heat of battle you go for composition, focus, exposure, maybe one or two others, but the very point of shooting raw is to choose most adjustment settings afterwards. Who wants to miss a shot because you’re looking for the camera’s sharpening menu? A second factor was that it’s always been a curious program with a disjointed interface that was only made palatable by the U points. The one potential benefit was that it could update the embedded preview in the raw file, so I could see a picture’s adjusted appearance in other non-Nikon apps such as my cataloguing program. But that wasn’t a big benefit, and was done better by Adobe’s DNG. So while I’m surprised to discover Capture NX2 is still on my computer, I’ve not the foggiest idea when I last opened  it.

It’s never been obvious how many copies Nikon Capture ever shipped, and it never seemed hugely-popular even before Lightroom and Aperture gobbled up the market. It looked very much as though it was on life support with no significant updates for almost a decade.

More recently Google bought Nik, the company Nikon had apparently hired to write Capture NX and who had supplied their U Point technology, so one did wonder what the acquisition might mean for Capture NX’s future. Perhaps now we have the answer, because it looks like Capture NX-D is a ground-up rewrite of the program that doesn’t include anything from Nik. For instance, they seem to have discarded Nik’s great contribution:

  • Q: Do you plan to include U Point functions (for portional editing) later?
  • A: No, we do not plan to include these functions. We are looking into the possibility of being able to open and display images to which effects have been applied using U Point functions for support purposes with future versions.

A minor detail is that they’ve gone down the route of saving adjustments back to sidecars files rather than updating the raw files themselves. Apparently that was good before, because you can trust Nikon software to update Nikon proprietary raw files, but now it’s supposed to be good that it’s not doing so.

I’m curious to see what it’s like, but it’s hard to work up much interest. Perhaps that’s because I also find it hard to understand why anyone would want to invest time in raw conversion software that’s limited to a single brand of raw files. I just don’t need Nikon software to keep me loyal to Nikon.

 

Update – Thom Hogan thinks they’re now licensing code from Silypix. I really agree with his closing comments about “The correct strategy all along was: (1) make sure every software provider and company supporting digital imaging could get the best possible results out of Nikon data; (2) if you want to create for-sale software make sure it continues to fit into the best existing workflow, not change the workflow;” They could do that if they’d offer the non-proprietary DNG as an option, of course, and paraphrasing my earlier comment – I just don’t need a Nikon proprietary file format to keep me loyal to Nikon.

Faces in the crowd

baileyYesterday I met up with a friend at the Harp, an excellent recent discovery, before we went along to the big David Bailey show at the National Portrait Gallery. The show runs until early June, so if you find yourself in central London there’s plenty of time to nip in and see it.

Just be prepared for crowds. After all, has any other name been as synonymous with British photography as Bailey?

While you’ll have seen many of the portraits before and no probably not find too many many surprises, it’s rare to see quite so many of Bailey’s prints in one place. You can see the range of the show from how many rooms were dedicated to it, though I wasn’t sure I cared much for the four sets of reportage – Sudan, Naga tribes, Australian aboriginals, Delhi – or for the other non-studio projects. Usually I’d favour these, as for me photography is about hunting for a picture rather than constructing it in the studio, but I didn’t feel one’s appreciation of Bailey was improved by including them.

Of course, there are plenty of the instantly-recognisable Bailey studio portraits – the high contrast front-lit, black clothes, bleached background style that made his name and powered a 50+ year career. In fact there are so many that you imagine his clients would surely have been disappointed had Bailey not anointed them with that Kray-like black and white glamour. Yet my favourite (by far) had to be this 1982 shot of Catherine Deneuve and David Bowie which seemed almost recognisable as a Bailey – but with a subtle progression.

mccullin

I’m not surprised that apparently Don McCullin didn’t like this portrait

Two things really struck us. One was that there seemed to be a lot of prints which had taken the standard Bailey-look much too far and had ended up looking rather crude. Little more than “chalk and charcoal”, these prints just lacked the tonal richness and variety that made other images so successful.

The other worry was the number of portraits where the skin tones had been rendered to make the sitter look as if he had spent far too much time baking under the Florida sun, as in this picture of Don McCullin (yes, that is him). A blue lens filter can certainly be valuable in B&W portraiture, exaggerate skin features and perhaps revealing character, but I’m not sure pictures like this really merited being in the retrospective. Interesting but unsuccessful experiments?

Of course, that’s just my opinion, yet it was shared by my friend, a highly respected photographer who also made his name in the 1960s. It certainly didn’t affect my enjoyment of the show, and I certainly recommend starting – and perhaps finishing – in the nearby Harp.

 

Also listen to two related radio programmes here.

The Great British melt-down?

Detling, 2010With 2015′s election creeping over the horizon, you’ve got to expect Cameron to use the 100th anniversary of World War I’s outbreak to try to wrap his party in the flag. To be fair, dogs bark. ducks quack, and any other occupant of No 10 would probably do the same.

Of course, given the sheer scale of 1914-18′s slaughter, no government would so crass as to encourage any hint of celebration -  so no public money will go to fund street parties – but I’m sure a lot of us expect an unwelcome “patriotic” tinge to the commemorations. After all, Cameron’s image didn’t benefit from 2012 London Olympics with the economy being so shaky, Boris stealing the stage, and Danny Boyle’s opening ceremony providing a less-than-Tory version of British history. The following year the Queen’s 60th jubilee was drenched by the soggy British weather and came far too early to be of much electoral benefit, as did the Windsors supplying yet another baby for their loyal and less-loyal subjects to fund. But using WW1′s centenary to wave a few Union Jacks wouldn’t hurt electoral prospects in 2015, would it? And anyone who depicts the war as a foolish disaster – from Wilfred Owen to the writers of Blackadder – must be ever so slightly unpatriotic, don’t you think? What a shame such neo-McCarthyite nonsense came from Michael Gove who, as well as being in charge of our schools, does actually possess a less vulgar appreciation of history than he pretends.

So it is welcome to see Niall Ferguson, who I’ve always considered a conservative-leaning historian, taking such a contrary line on Britain’s involvement and labelling it “the biggest error in modern history”:

The Laurence A Tisch professor of history at Harvard University rejected the idea that Britain was forced to act in 1914 to secure its borders and the Channel ports. “This argument, which is very seductive, has one massive flaw in it, which is that Britain tolerated exactly that situation happening when Napoleon overran the European continent, and did not immediately send land forces to Europe. It wasn’t until the peninsular war that Britain actually deployed ground forces against Napoleon. So strategically, if Britain had not gone to war in 1914, it would still have had the option to intervene later, just as it had the option to intervene after the revolutionary wars had been under way for some time.”

He didn’t mention a more recent example, the Franco Prussian War of 1870-71 when Britain stayed free of entanglements with other European powers (a notion which should appeal to Cameron’s right wing “allies”) and watched on during that war’s early stages, then remained in its splendid isolation as the Prussians, who happened to be our traditional allies, proceeded to overwhelm our equally-perennial enemy, France. There are too many similar exceptions to try to justify Britain’s intervention in 1914 as a time-honoured policy of intervening whenever a single power threatened to control the nearby continent, and backdating it as conveniently far back as Elizabeth I is even less convincing when you observe that her England was merely a minor power barely able to protect its own shores. I’m not making a case that Britain should never have intervened in 1914 (for instance I’ve not mentioned the issue of Germany’s growing naval strength), but it does make one wonder how Cameron’s Euro-sceptic friends can wrap themselves up in the flag over what turned out to be a disastrous engagement in European affairs. Better to make a mental note of this being the centenary, and just leave it at that?

Christopher Clark’s The Sleepwalkers seems to place the blame on the alliance system and is the next book I have lined up in my Kindle app on the iPad (I expect it to be good but heavy going like his previous Iron Kingdom) and I’ve a yellowing copy of Volker Berghahn’s “Germany and the Approach of War in 1914″ and two or three other books from my university days which I might revisit. I’ll also mark the year with some photos, as there will be a lot of re-enactment events connected to 1914. But I’ve long thought that the best way to commemorate 1914′s centenary would be by melting down a few statues – George V, his generals and politicians.  Somehow I can’t see Cameron letting that happen though.

Christmas in the Lake(s)

Lodore JettyUp in the Lake District again for Christmas and probably New Year – the “probably” being that if the weather doesn’t improve London may have more appeal. I certainly don’t need reminding that the trip is about Christmas, but I’d arrived in one storm and another was forecast to follow, so I was despairing of getting any decent pictures. I don’t think it stopped raining on Sunday, only for a while on Monday, and it not at all on Christmas Eve, so the road to Keswick had one patch of flooding that made me turn back and take the long way round over the Honister Pass and down the Newlands Valley.

Today the second storm arrived and the weather has been both atrocious and exhilarating as it proved John’s first law of landscape photography – when you wake up and can hear the weather outside, it’s probably not going to be your day. But Christmas Day itself was dry, and so was much of yesterday when I took this picture.

Calling it Christmas in the Lake(s) is unusual for me – I don’t like naming pictures. Clever titles may well amuse, or convey some profound meaning or ironic twist, yet don’t they readily appear corny or trite?

Even worse, in my opinion, is how a title provides the viewer with an explanation or interpretation. Surely they should be left to develop their own understanding and interpretation of the photograph.

So this picture would normally be named Derwentwater or something similarly po-faced. If I wanted to be truly pretentious I’d perhaps add some Roman numerals and call it Lodore Study II. But Christmas in the Lake(s) seems to  fit this one – interpret that how you will!

And beers

While thinking names, “Seriously Bad Elf” must win John’s award for the best seasonal ale this year. And 9% too. It would be too rude not to try it, don’t you think? Happy Christmas!

What’s so wrong about (peace, love and) clichéd locations?

Here’s another from yesterday. Guess where?

I guess one problem of living in such a well-known place as London is that anywhere in the city centre is recognisable and must qualify as a clichéd location. yet should one apologise for shooting it again?

This thought was in my head as I wandered round the Landscape Photographer of the Year exhibition (a post coming later) and recognised scenes that are so frequently-photographed that you imagine erosion must be unnaturally accelerated by the effect of all those tripod holes.

Yet what can be wrong when there’s still such an element of the photographer’s effort, eye, and skill?

A Foggy Day (In London Town)

It was foggy this morning so when I nipped into central London to buy some photo paper (my new Epson 3880 arrived yesterday…) I took with me the camera, my wide angle lens and the grad filters and hoped I might get a few shots. The centre doesn’t get a lot of fog and I expected it would be gone by the time I got off the train, but London can look lovely when a lot of it is hidden in fog! And stepping out at London Bridge, it was just gorgeous!

So what better way to kick off a new project – 36 Views of The Shard. Hat tip to Hokusai, of course.

There was just one very big problem – I’d forgotten to check I had a flash card in the camera! What an idiot! So there followed half an hour of frantically chasing round looking for somewhere to buy a compact flash card. The Jessops by Cannon Street station? No longer there – they went bust. Jacobs too. WH Smiths and Boots both stocked lots of SD cards and memory sticks. But finally I found one in Maplin and luckily the fog was still swirling around nicely when I got back to the river, and in fact it stayed for a couple of hours more.

After finishing near Tower Bridge, I then walked along the river to Covent Garden for a bit of shopping, then caught the Landscape Photographer of the Year exhibition at the National Theatre and – legs beginning to tire -  I called it a day and headed down to Silverprint to buy the photo paper (Permajet Royal if you’re interested). And what happened? Silverprint had also disappeared*! It was that kind of day. About the only thing that didn’t disappear was the fog.

* Fortunately, I’ve now found out Silverprint is still around, just moved a few streets away.

Grim up North

Stuart Maconie writes an amusing guide how to write about the North

Try to evoke a vague, slightly chilly sense of up-thereness and isolation. Mention any traffic problems on your journey, failure of lineside equipment near Stockport or any particularly awful baguette you were offered on the train. Ask: did you know they have wi-fi and sushi?

via Rob Hudson

It should probably be read alongside Boris Johnson’s “of our species” speech, don’t you think?

8 hours standing in streams in the rain and the snow….

Last Sunday morning the finely-tuned plan had been to be up bright and early. I’d drive into central London to snap the 7am start of the London Brighton veteran car rally, and then carry on up to the Lake District.

So everything had been packed on Saturday afternoon, the alarm was set on my phone, the phone was charged, and it was near the bed. What could go wrong? Only my own incompetence. The phone’s time was 12 hours wrong – AM instead of PM, or whatever – and by the time I woke up the cars would already have been half way to Brighton. So much for planning (a familiar theme).

But sometimes you get a bit of perhaps-undeserved luck. The weather here can be unpredictable and varies in different valleys, so on Thursday I was just checking various webcams when I noticed a link to a veteran car rally in Honister slate quarry. And it turned out to be an annual event which was taking place on Saturday. Bingo! Just a couple of miles from where I’m based, this quarry is at the top of one of England’s steepest roads and it’s a location I know well (I’m a big fan of what they do). In fact when I was here in September I’d been up the quarry track three times in a couple of weeks. It zig zags up to near the top of the mountain, Fleetwith Pike, and I could easily imagine how spectacular the veteran cars would look battling their way up its 25% incline. Mine workings scarred the valley opposite and the huge views across Borrowdale would be a wonderful backdrop.

So that was my Saturday. I was up there an hour before kick off and didn’t leave until it was getting dark and when the last driver decided it was a challenge too far. I think we endured 4 mixed rain-wind-hail-snowstorms, and at times it was depressingly cold. Great day though!

I think a few things stand out :

  • Vintage cars are nice and slow, even more so up those hills, and you can usually get closer than with modern cars.
  • A low angle worked well – and that was thanks to spending the day standing in the streams which line the quarry track.
  • Most of the time I used my wide angle lens, which tends to produce a dramatic effect when action is so close, and a few were with my 50mm. My 70-200 might as well have stayed at home.
  • I felt my mentality was landscape photography with motorsport, not photographing motorsport. I think that helped avoid boring car shots (sorry motorsport enthusiasts!).
  • A neutral grad filter stayed on the wideangle lens and was great for keeping detail in the sky.
  • Open top cars make better pictures because you see the people – those with roofs just look lifeless unless you get a view of the driver.

My favourite shot has to be the girl with the lovely big smile. Only one person is allowed to drive the car down, and she had just told her passenger he was walking back. On reflection, I wish I’d gone for more of this type of observational picture – but there’s always next year!

Lakeland Trial
Lakeland Trial
Lakeland Trial
Lakeland Trial
Lakeland Trial
Lakeland Trial
Lakeland Trial
Lakeland Trial