I've been considering a few options for lenses that would work well within the principles of Group F/1 philosophy. I wanted something a little wider than the 50mm f/1.4 that I've been using. Obviously, the 28mm f/1.4 AF Nikkor would be one to try out, but I don't have $3-4 grand laying around. I've considered the Sigma fast primes, but have a bias against anything Sigma -- and the quality amongst the various samples of even these lenses has been reported as suspect.

I had the opportunity to buy a new-to-me camera last week, and along with that camera I settled on the 35mm f/2 Nikkor AF-D. It's PERFECT:









It's not TOO pricey these days -- around $300 or less. About the same price, really, as a 50mm F/1.4 AF. On a 1.5X body, it equates to about a 50mm on film and full-frame digital. I'm really falling in love with this lens...

Labels: bokeh tests., equipment, lenses

Exploring even further the concept of using shallow depth-of-focus and common photography lighting techniques, I came up with the idea of practicing different lighting angles last night. I also have wanted to try out different lighting angles with one flash without blinding someone. So, I noticed that my wife had put the statue of Our Lady we bought for our joint Christmas present shortly after we were first married on the bookshelf in our living room, and so I used her as my subject.

Since I still had my PK-13 attached to my 50mm f/1.4 and my D1H, and I thought this would make for some interesting study. See, the total size of the frame I was working with here was about 3" by 3" give or take a few millimeters. Obviously my typing paper snoot would light the heck out of the whole thing, so I needed some much narrower light. So, I grabbed my ball-bungeed-to-hold-the-batteries-in SB-28 (attached via SC-17, since I don't have my radio remotes yet) and rubber-banded the DIY grid spot snoot to REALLY control where the light was landing on each shot. It was a little tricky getting what I wanted in focus (since I wasn't using a tripod and I was working in the extreme macro world) and moving the flash so it would light the part of the statue I wanted to light with the shot. It almost felt like I was a marionette dancer standing there in front of the bookshelf with my SB-28 and my D1H, with the SC-17 as my string.

I took the liberty to give some different tonality, too, to these images because I thought it explored a different mood to the scenes. Here are the results -- I love how the depth is extremely exaggerated by the limited focus combined with the lighting. And, the master craftsman who carved this resin statue has just done an amazing job with the details:

While I haven't posted much around here lately, I'm still formulating the philosophy. Of course, one person doesn't make for a group, really, so it's no wonder things aren't hoppin' at this joint.

Still, I've been playing around with a few ideas, and learning how to use lighting and flash, thanks to a tip from Tim that I go check out Strobist. Interestingly, the lighting techniques on Strobist can very likely work out well with the Group F/1 philosophy under development here. In this image below, I'm experimenting with both. I'm becoming a firm believer that extremely narrow depth-of-focus can certainly convey a sense of depth -- especially in the macro world. Of course, I could probably use lighting techniques to convey this sense of depth a little differently and keep everything in focus. But I believe that highlighting certain features through selective focus can make for an interesting perspective. If it's done "correctly" (whatever that means), and with (as I've mentioned before as important), clear intent. Here's a link to the "straight" version of this shot and here's the Group F/1 version of the Moth shot:

I pulled out the 50mm f/1.4 -- the fastest lens I currently own -- and shot some photos that I thought would fit within the new criteria from my last post. I believe these photos demonstrate that you can meet the challenge of using shallow Depth-of-Focus and having it appear as intentional rather than as an oversight. What do you think?

With the challenge of trying to figure out what the Group F/1 philosophy should look like still well under way, I've put some feelers out in the online photography community. One of the places I've been 'hanging out' online discussing photography is PhotoSig -- an online community where you can submit photographs for critique, as well as critique photographs from other members. There are also forums and reviews there, so it's really an excellent resource for budding photographers.


I've submitted photos that I've taken with the current revision of the Group F/1 philosophy, and received some very helpful advice. One critique, however, really stands out in my mind as being very key to furthering the philosophy of Group F/1. It's actually somewhat obvious, and I'm not sure how I missed considering this. But nevertheless, it's been an eye opener for me, and really a foundational principal that certainly will be adopted going forward with this pursuit.

In reply to my explanation about what I was doing with the Depth-of-Focus in the particular image, one PhotoSig member replied:

Paul while I understand your intent I can tell you that it doesn't come off that way while looking at the image. I think the DOF tapers off very rapidly and that looks - appears - as an oversight rather than intentional.

That's the key, indeed, and the fundamental challenge of exploring life at the other end of the aperture ring. So, I'm adopting this as the first tenet of the Group F/1 philosophy: Photographs must be composed so that the common viewer can see that the focus effect is intentional and not indeed an oversight.

Of course, that's a much larger challenge than it may appear. Something I'm going to have to get busy working on. I'm not sure any of my current images within this philosophy truly do live up to that tenet...

I've been thinking further about what this photography philosophy would entail, and why it's a reasonable, meaningful pursuit in the first place. Here are a few thoughts that have crossed my mind:

1) It's vital to have some sort of philosophy as a photographer. Even if you explore several, you should at least have some foundational belief system as to why you, as a person, can consider yourself a photographer. When does someone become a 'photographer' -- when he/she takes his/her first picture? When he/she downloads an image from the Internet and tweaks it into a new image (without even using a camera)? Those are tough questions to answer. Having some sort of explanation for those questions could form some foundation for a photography philosophy.

2) Since modern-day cameras are able to capture scenes so much more realistically -- even offering anti-shake technology to allow some wiggle room for folks who don't like to use tripods -- more and more people are able to take pictures that even art critics might find favorable. Anyone with a decent sense of how to use a camera and either a fat wallet or with lots of room on their credit card can go out and buy very nice cameras that help them take great pictures. So, again -- when does that person become a photographer?

3) I suppose one could argue that a photographer is someone who generates a decent percentage of his/her income from selling photography -- or even from teaching others about photography. But, what, then, from all the students who are learning and growing in their photographic skill? Are they not photographers? And, similarly, what about the person building a portfolio to try and break into a tough market? Just because they're not making money selling their pictures does that mean they're not a photographer? One more along these lines -- what about someone who takes a photograph shot by someone else and manipulates it in the darkroom (whether digital or otherwise) so much that it becomes their own image -- they're not using a camera, perhaps, but does that mean that they're not a photographer, too?

These are really tough questions to answer. In thinking about these things more, I really believe that someone becomes a photographer when he/she forms some sort of philosophy and pursuit. I'm comfortable believing that a photographer must use some sort of camera -- and things like scanners and enlargers in and of themselves are not to be considered cameras. I'm not saying that the images produced with such tools aren't to be considered art. But in my philosophy, a photographer must use some sort of camera. The thing with philosophies is that there are many of them throughout the world. No one single philosophy can contain the entirety of truth. But having a philosophy in photography certainly can help provide some motivation and some direction for capturing and creating images with the camera.