If a picture paints a thousand words, how many does three?

The one off Frui workshop this month is all about the three picture story. This device was often used in newspapers reportage to assist with the storytelling. The general idea is to begin your story with a wide shot to set the scene followed by the main theme of your piece and ending with a bit of detail or colour. However sometimes it's not so structured and perhaps the pictures follow on from one another like a minimalist flip book or just complement one another in some aesthetically pleasing way.

Filski set us forth to practice our craft in a very crowded Borough Market. Being so fond of food photography I was very happy with macro/detail shot but some of the proceeding shots didn't please me as much. After photographing fishmongers filleting, butchers chopping, artisans slicing salami, cheesemongers proffering morsels of cheese and the green grocers weighing, selecting the plumpest and twisting brown paper bags bulging with their wares I settled on the very popular raclette stall.

The half moons of raclette cheese bubble beneath the grills and the servers having been shown the correct prepaid ticket scrape gooey rivulets of molten cheesiness onto a plate of potatoes and gherkins or just potatoes. A wooden fork, and a push through the crowds with your steamy bounty to find a place to perch and then cheesy heaven! Yes, surely a photographic story here.

To make it a little more challenging we were then tasked to create another trilogy but this time avoiding the obvious material of the food stalls.

I plumped for photographers as second to people joyously relishing food are the others photographing food and some eating and snapping. I had a couple of ideas in my mental storyboard. I wanted a shot over a photographer’s shoulder so I could see the obligatory review of the last image, or else live-view depending on the camera. Next one of those unique postures photographers tend to adopt and finally that special camera cradling you see especially with the big cameras as the fingers gently cup the lens. I couldn't do that maneuver until I'd attached my extension tube but I do now find myself mimicking this protective stance. Luckily there was plenty of material.

When we reconvened after completing our mission we uploaded our pair of threes on Filski’s laptop so we could share. It was interesting to see the different interpretation of especially the second challenge. There were buskers setting up, then playing and then the “money shot” of the tossed coins in the double bass case. There was a slice of café life, a red and smoking theme and finally some happy eaters.

This definitely seems to be an interesting device to adopt for the holiday snaps. I noticed how many times in Iceland I went for the wide landscape followed by the macro detail shot. I wanted to record those unique vistas, the tranquility and majesty but I was also attracted to the tiny icicles on the grass, the patterns made in the iced puddles and the melting ice cutting through the dense, black ash. Next time, I'm going to aim for the three picture story rather than the two.

 

Jo's Photo Mojo Motivator

When AL bemoaned of losing her photo mojo it got me thinking how we get to take these pictures. There's the 'I just have to record that beautiful, surprising, funny thing for posterity/sharing and quite possibly Facebook'. Then there's the photographic mission where you've identified a particular potential 'decisive moment' and sally forth with a grim determination to nail this image. There's the occasion photography, a celebration, an artistic plate of food or a new location to explore where brandishing your camera is obligatory. Some people just grab their cameras, go out and shoot whatever catches their eye, and hopes to catch a good one. And really this is a great habit for those of us practising our craft. I do carry my camera every day, not just my iPhone but a proper, grow up one but I have to admit that stuff gets in the way and I don't take it out of my bag enough. So using the photo mojo finder tool I had developed I thought I'd set myself a challenge - if I chose to accept it!

All I'd done is collected random topics to inspire from the web, my imagination and eliciting often intriguingly obscure images from others and ended up with a database of 350 disparate themes. Because I have an unnatural love of Excel, I put them in a spreadsheet complete with a random picker to at a mere press of [F9] plucks a topic from the 350. I have a slightly less elegant version on my iPad, I can't discover how to force a manual recalculation in Numbers so have modified it slightly. I’ll be sending it off to AL and our little band of happy snappers and we're going to think of ways to set challenges with it. And as the fad seems to be for these 365 projects I thought I'd be less ambitious and go for a week of living by the dice also. If a dice had 350 sides that is. I figured I may need to set some rules so I don't keep randomising until I really like the proffered theme but I should be able to 'roll again' if I've already done that one, or I could add the wrinkle that I can roll again but have to tie it in with the first theme. A week doesn't seen a mammoth task and it will be interesting to try dice with creativity. It certainly won't be as subversive as Luke Rhinhart's cult classic The Dice Man, I can guarantee that, but it is bound to get my photographic juices flowing and who knows it could turn into something bigger. Wish me luck!

And if you're wondering about the funky abstract image, I created it using the iPad Percolator app.

 

A hint of the Northern Lights

The money shot from this trip is capturing the elusive Northern Lights. After several nights on the bounce of too much cloud to even try there is an expectant buzz at the hotel tonight eagerly waiting for the buses to whisk us away to the bus station before we begin our chase. Unfortunately our group of twelve get split into three different coaches and more of the hotel guests climb into other coaches. I'd envisaged that we would all congregate at the same spot but each driver and guide had different plans. So much to our surprise we all had completely different experiences.

We started off with a few false stops, we'd climb out into the total blackness, armed with our tripods to find we could barely see a star in the sky.

Finally our guide started leaping around the coach in excitement pointing out of the windows at the tendrils of light dancing across the sky. Us uninitiated visitors peered out the clouds and wondered if this was the case of The Emperor’s New Clothes.

Eventually we stopped again, decamped (well not everyone, as some felt that we were on a fool’s errand) but clutching my tripod I was determined to give it one more chance. As I squinted up at the sky I could see a band of fast moving cloud which could have had a greenish tinge. I pointed my camera at this possibly greenish cloud for forty seconds and to my shock got lucky.

The rest of our group were treated to a twenty minute light show but as least we saw something. The other groups drove around for hours and didn't give up until about 2am and still saw nothing.

In conclusion, the Northern Lights are elusive, mystical and can be a little frustrating. I am delighted I saw a hint of what they can deliver, maybe another time I can see the full performance.

A Day at the Opera

The rest of our group headed off for snow mobiling this morning so I continued exploring Reykjavik, sadly the rain caught up with me today but another interesting building had caught my eye overlooking the harbour that I was determined to explore, capture and discover more about.

As well as being a striking design formed of a honeycomb of hexagons, cubes and asymmetric shapes the double walled front windows has LEDs that appear to ripple and gyrate across the surface.

And on investigation the influence for the architecture of this opera house is the form of the homes of their near neighbours, the elves or hidden people. These mythical creatures live deep underground beneath the cliffs around Iceland. The exterior of the elves’ homes are dark and secluded, but on entering a glittery crystalline space is revealed.

Whatever inspired the architects this building begs to be photographed from every angle and I found myself in architectural detail heaven. I hope the elves approved.

 

Land of Ice

I'd been hankering to go to Iceland for years and this has nothing to do with a deep abiding love of prawn rings. Iceland has always seemed so mysterious, so mystical, geographically quite close but in reality a million miles away. They even share a timezone with us. And then iceland kept hitting the news. Firstly we discovered in September 2008 that Icelandic banks had bankrolled a surprising number of British companies, and when the global credit crisis hit, Iceland's economy really suffered. Then the now infamous Eyjafjallajökull volcano blew its top in 2010 and disrupted the worlds air space, making the blue skies around me eerily quiet. So when AY, who I met in Berlin last year, said her friends had found a great flights and hotel package and threw it open to the Berlin crowd, I snapped at the chance.

The first surprise was how much toastier Rekyjavik was compared to London, and I was more worried beforehand that I wouldn't be warm enough. And the next surprise was the distinct lack of ice, there had been a huge snow fall just before we arrived but there were barely remnants surviving.

Our hotel was situated right opposite the Hallgrímskirkja, one of Iceland’s tallest building and strikingly designed to mimic the landscape of lava flows.

We'd discovered the usefulness of the this church as a beacon when we got a little lost on returning to our hotel. We also thought it looked like a Bond villain’s lair which one day might suddenly blast off for a land far, far away.

The inside was equally modern with elegant simple tall windows and a very impressive organ.

It certainly is an dramatic structure and in lieu of ice and snow, the first photographic opportunity.

 

 

Pimp my Leica!

Recently my camera has acquired a certain swagger. It has been hanging around with the big boys, those meaty full-frame DSLRs and the supercharged, oversized brutes. You know who you are with your macho chunky battery grips. And even though it’s not remotely in their league it's holding it own a little better, having less disparaging looks and name calling now.  

When I upgraded from my D-Lux 4 last April, I hoped I could recycle my little stack of filters and Lensmate extension tube but of course it was not to be. Even though the D-Lux 5 looks the same size as the 46mm extension tube, it's marginally bigger so the extension tube for my new camera steps up to 52mm instead. Lensmate hadn’t continued with this line so I found a suitably unbranded one online from HK. One of the beauties of the Lensmate extension tube is that it came with two little D shaped clips that could click onto the lens cap and you could still pop it on when required. So once I’d attached the new tube I calculated that all I needed was to procure a 52-46mm step down ring so I could continue to use my filters and Lensmate clips when I wanted. 

However this cunning plan didn't really work. The stepping down produced vignetting and the clips I'd been so keen to reuse would flick off at the merest provocation necessitating much grubbing around to find where it had gotten to this time. But the big issue here was the sudden appearance of rounded corners on my pictures and a new solution had to be unearthed. 

I'd taken to using a daylight filter when out on photographic excursions, so I could hang my camera at my side via my sling, keep it powered up and it wouldn't be so exposed.  There's much debate about the worth of getting a lens with a decent bit of glass in it and then slapping the cheapest daylight filter money can buy on top. I’d stumbled across a second hand but unused Leica 46mm daylight filter and this gave me both quality and protection. I also rather like the eerie red glow it appears to give my camera from the inner ring of red metal!  So all I had to do was look for a decent 52mm daylight filter, polariser and a couple of others I was pondering (NDs etcetera), I'd fix the rounded cropping but wouldn't be able to use my lens cap clips. That was easier said than done, Leica doesn't seem to favour 52mm so the only solution was to step up to 55mm instead. This worked out fine, I sourced some decent filters, including my beloved Leica scarlet hued daylight one and also found a new Leica lens cap to fit this now beefier version of my D-Lux.  Now vignetting has been eliminated and no pinging clips to lose, I'd just swap out the lens caps and away I'd go. I took to keeping the set up on permanently but now my camera doesn't fit in the neat, form fitting leather Leica case and I could only cart it around in my camera bag. This wasn't an issue when I was out on a bit of a session but I like to keep my camera in my bag everyday so this wasn't practical. I found on the internet a little nylon case I could just squeeze the camera into with the extension tube on, so it was by my side again.

It wasn't long before I decided to explore using a viewfinder. This seemed to be on of the features that was setting the men from the boys - camera-wise. On a very sunny trip to Berlin I'd struggled with live view as generally I couldn’t see what was going on and composition was entirely hit and miss.  Knowing that a succession of photographic opportunities were in my near future, I embarked on a research mission. 

One of the most infuriating things when trawling the net looking for reviews on the D-Lux range and accessories that so-called feedback is just a litany of people complaining how much more the Leica is compared to the Panasonic with nothing more helpful to say. Okay so I’ll get it out there.  My name is J, I love my Leica, I admire the elegant, minimalist styling, the free tuition at the Leica Akademie and the superior editing of Lightroom. Oh, and even though it's wrong to say, I love my red dot! And if I wanted to part with it, Leicas have good resale value. So please don't tell me that I didn't make an informed decision.

In the end I gleaned enough sensible knowledge to go for the EVF. And what a revelation, really crystal clear image, all the vital info I needed so I could make any tweaks and adjustments, a handy pivot so I can shoot from above and When I was next bathed in sunshine not only could I take the picture easily, I could preview through the viewfinder also. My fellow DSLR users were forced to peer through a rubber loupe so I'd finally gained an edge!

The instructions on the EVF mentioned how delicate it was and I shouldn't drop it. It came with its own little leather case so I could holster it when it wasn't in use. However I wanted to use it all the time but unfortunately my new viewfinder had come complete with a death wish. Just like the pesky d-clips before it the slightest knock would send it flying. A design flaw could be the lack of retaining clip.  The EVF slides neatly into the hot shoe and an additional connector designed for it but there's nothing to stop it sliding right out again. I discovered this niggle on its very first outing.  With a couple of days of hard-core snapping ahead I was just getting into a taxi at Cambridge station when I noticed its absence. Fearing that I could have lost it anywhere between home and there I persuaded them to let me back on the platform and amazingly it was lying there amongst the throngs of passenger’s feet and seemingly unharmed. It took further suicidal dives in New York, Croatia and nearly swept out to sea in Dorset. I needed to fashion some sort of restraint. After toying with gaffer tape I came to the Heath Robinson conclusion that a thin black cord tensioned between the business end of the EVF and tied under the barrel would stop its wanderings. And it has worked very well, no more leaping off whenever it felt like it. If I want to remove it, I just unscrew the barrel and ease the cord off.

My pampered camera got suited up with a Gordy wrist strap when I'd first bought the D-Lux 4 and learnt you couldn't use the neck-strap that came with the camera if you were using the snug form fitting World War 2-pilot-style case. I'd come across another Leica camera sporting a Gordy strap in a magazine and was rather taken by their website and philosophy. All they do is make leather straps, popular ones. You get to choose the colour of the leather and colour of the waxed thread used for wrapping the cord. You can also select the method of attachment, via a lug, tripod mount or my preference, the string. And one of the best things about Gordy straps is the reasonable price you see online includes shipping, and yes even internationally!

When I felt the need to be able to hang my camera at my side I went back to Gordy and he asked for my height, my camera weight and made a sling to suit me. I particularly like the way the continuous leather loop worn diagonally across the body is attached to a neat camera connector via a carabiner.  This means when you don't want the strap in the way you can just remove it in moments.  My black leather and red wrapping string connector can be seen in the picture. 

I suppose the only downside of easily being able to get the strap off is that on a crazy extremely jetlagged night in New York I managed to become parted from the strap but thankfully not my camera. There was only one solution, I'd be meaning to visit B&H on my next foray to the Big Apple and duly set forth to seek a replacement strap the next morning. B&H really is the most amazing photographic emporium there is. It's like a surreal Aladdin’s cave with more staff I've ever seen anywhere (and seriously knowledgable too). When you find something to buy from one of the waistcoated staff, you're given a ticket and your intended goods get placed in a green ’bucket’ and placed on a track hanging from the ceiling that whisks your new shiny things down to Santa’s workshop for packing. Or at least that's how it seemed to a shopper suffering still from jetlagged sleep deprivation. I ended up in the second-hand section, found a great leather Leica neck strap in lieu of my missing sling and to my delight a vintage Leitz/Leica ever-ready case that could fit my extension tube, filter and finally my EVF. And my camera is very partial its new suit.

As smart as the neck strap was, it made me realise that I prefer a sling. I discovered that a neck strap can snag your necklaces, so I went back to Gordy again and order was restored.

The final oomph my camera got was an update to its firmware in December which amongst other things increased the maximum shutter speed from 60s to a more substantial 250s in manual mode. I’m looking forward to utilising these slooooow speeds in Iceland later this month. 

I still get asked by non-believers if my camera has an aperture priority setting, or can I adjust the ISO? And yes it does and I can. What I can't do is change the lens, use my EVF and flash at the same time nor do I have a bulb setting (I think this would just drain the battery instantly anyway) but I don't think I've really missed these things. The "compact" sneers still gall, Leica occasionally refer to the D-Lux 5 as a "compact system" camera but generally as "maximum Leica quality in a minimalist camera form factor".  I shouldn't mind it being called a compact, don't the best things come in small packages and I rather like surprising the naysayers with what my clever little camera produces sometimes!

I love my swaggering pimped-up Leica, I believe good things are ahead of us this year, the world is just full of images we haven't captured yet and we're ready - bring it on!

A Christmas swim!

After yesterday's schoolboy error of setting forth on a photographic excursion with mere moments of battery life available, I'm more prepared today. I have three fully charged batteries, tripod and the neutral density filters I need. My plan is to return to the beach, stake out a couple of good spots and try and ’smash’ (in LA’s vernacular!) the creamy waves and smudgy clouds. I'm all set up, the weather is not as fine as yesterday, it looks like there won't be a repeat of last night's sunset (or late afternoon, don't you just love winter?) but hopefully I can use the moodiness to my advantage .  I'm glued to the viewfinder, fully manual (yes, living on the edge!) and tweaking the aperture and shutter speeds oblivious to everything else waiting for that "decisive moment". Apparently too oblivious as I didn't spot the much feistier waves today building up a head of steam and trying to wipe out the pesky photographer in their wake. Hmmm, I was wearing hiking boots (occasionally I don sensible footwear) but I needed waders it seemed. The waves soaked me up to my knees and filled my boots with sludgy sand and bits of seaweed, I suspect hiking socks would have been useful here. I figured that when I'd been doused once, then twice, then a third time that I'd just stick it out until I had a moment I quite liked. Apparently photography is not supposed to be easy - Magnum’s Robert Capa said “If your pictures aren't good enough, you're not close enough”, best not to mention what happened to him, but I'm fairly confident I'm not going to drown so I can suffer a little more for my art. Not sure my boots will ever be the same again by I captured something at least and this time I didn't run out of power!