While the recent 2012 Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas (January 10-13) was the setting for a number of new but somewhat evolutionary camera introductions, Fujifilm decided to take a revolutionary step in their recent evolution by introducing a completely new interchangeable lens camera system.

The Fujifilm X-Pro1 was designed for wedding, portrait, commercial and fine art photographers, and follows closely in the retro styling made famous by the X100 and the X10 cameras—solid and well built.

The X-Pro1 is not a rangefinder but instead a step up for compact interchangeable-lens cameras offering an advanced Hybrid Multi Viewfinder providing your choice of both and Electronic Viewfinder (EVF) and Optical Viewfinder (OVF).

Besides the unusually sturdy construction and extensive use of machined metal parts, the key to its quality is the completely new APS-C 16Mpxl “X-Trans CMOS” sensor.

As the only digital camera manufacturer with true film experience, Fujifilm looked deep into the structure and mechanics of the way digital images are most often created and determined that they could introduce a more “organic” and higher quality look by changing the rules a bit.

Most traditional image sensors use a 2×2 color array of Red, Green and Blue filters arranged in a tight, repeatable pattern.  This is called a Bayer array (named after its inventory Dr. Bryce E. Bayer) and it is the most common way of providing color information to an essentially color-blind CCD or CMOS sensor. Complex calculations that we take for granted are handled in the various processing engines of cameras and read these pieces of information, interpolating them to provide us with what we consider to be a color photograph (or at least the file which we view and ideally share with others on screen or in print)

A big weakness of this design is that a moiré pattern or color fringing appears when this very regular array is superimposed with an image that also has a pattern (think fabric or numerous wires supporting a suspension bridge). And the way this is most often minimized is by incorporating a low-pass optical filter into the sandwich of elements that makes up an imaging sensor.

Fujifilm’s solution is to make the color array 6×6 and incorporate some more randomness into the color filters (very much like the randomness that makes film images so sharp and smooth, but also free of moiré).  In doing so they were able to completely remove the low-pass optical filter from the system.

I have seen the results with my own eyes and it’s pretty remarkable.  Sample comparison prints show a clear advantage of the “X-Trans CMOS” vs. a traditional Bayer CMOS (albeit with prototype cameras). Toss in some extra Fujifilm magic via the new EXR Processor Pro and the XPro-1 appears to out-resolve much larger sensors—at any ISO!

The XPro-1 features extensive capabilities to process in-camera using a wide selection of dynamic range and color settings, with a full simulation of essentially all of the Fujiflm film types. And while the camera will ship with Silkypix software I’m hoping Adobe and others will be able to deal quickly with this new color matrix so I can incorporate Raw shots from the XPro-1 into a more standard workflow.

Of course the best image sensor wouldn’t be worth much without some good optics and the Fujinon lens design team was able to put their best efforts into the development of the XF Lens system and X-Mount.

Starting with a fresh view, the engineers decided an extremely short lens flange to sensor distance would be critical.  By reducing the spacing to a minimum, light transmission could be maximized, focus travel could be shortened (as would shutter lag time), and they could adjust lens designs for optimum coverage of the sensor.

Apparently nothing was taken for granted as there is generous use of exotic ED glass and aspheric element. They even went so far as to redesign the lens aperture to provide a smoother more circular shape with minimum refraction knife-edge blades. Plus, what looks like a light baffle inside the body actually also provides a step for each different lens to mate with and register so there is a greater physical connection than just the mount itself.

Ten gold plated contacts provide redundant transmission of data and power between the lenses and the body so that autofocus and exposure are precise (and future expanded communication is assured).  The lenses feature full and 1/3 f-stops, and a matching milled-alloy lens hood is thoughtfully provided for each lens.

The initial launch (sometime in February or March of 2012) will include three fast but compact lenses: 18mm f/2, 35mm f/1.4 and a 60mm f/2.4 Macro (think 28/50/90mm full frame 35mm equivalents give or take a millimeter or three).

This brings us back to the viewing system. Obviously the image can be displayed on the bright 1.23Mpxl rear LCD, but placing the camera up to your eye not only helps you with your creative vision, it also adds that extra stability of a third point (including your two arms) to make sharp handheld exposures.

All pertinent exposure information can be seen through the eyepiece and, like a traditional optical viewfinder, it’s possible to see the frame line of the lens with some space all around to tell what’s moving into or away from the field of view of the lens. A dual magnification system and continuously variable frame lines give a good indication of what you’ll see in the final image.

But if you prefer greater framing accuracy (especially for near objects and when using the 60mm Macro up close) flip a lever and the optical viewfinder (OVF) switches to a 1.44 Mpxl electronic display (EVF).  This is similar in design to the X100 but of higher resolution and with the extra features necessary to deal with multiple focal lengths.

Speaking of which, the internal menu already shows equivalent frame lines for a variety of other focal lengths plus the ability to manually adjust for anything in between.  This will come in handy when the announced Leica M adapter is available (and given the dimensions of the X-mount system it’s conceivable that adapters could be made for almost any brand of lens).

To get maximum results, though, I’d suggest staying with the Fujinon lens system. Fujifilm has already announced plans for a 14mm (21mm equivalent) super wide and an image stabilized 18-72 f/4 (27-108mm equivalent) to be introduced later this year., and 2013 promises a 28mm f/2.8 pancake design and 23mm f/2 (42mm and 34mm equivalents respectively) for primes, and two more image stabilized zooms 12-24 f/4 and 70-200 f/4 (18-36mm and 105-300mm respectively).  It’s possible some of the specs may change by the time these lenses are released and it’s not clear if the zooms will use the OVF in addition to the more practical EVF.

Both the mechanical controls and the menu access are very direct, and to make it even easier to navigate, the XPro-1 has a “Q” quick menu button that does just that—it opens up a series of twelve of the most often used menu features which can be selected and adjusted without having to dig deep.

A bit larger than I expected, the body itself is still smaller than a DSLR and the lenses are much smaller than their 35mm equivalents. I found it easy to hold but especially so when I added the optional HG-Xpro1 Hand Grip.

Dedicated accessory flash units common to the other X-series cameras work and a new EF-X20 flash was designed just for this camera. In addition, a hot shoe on the top and a PC connector on the side provide compatibility with other flashes and flash triggering devices.

Fujifilm has been very responsive to photographers worldwide with respect to the development of this camera system and refinements with firmware upgrades to the other X-series cameras.  I know I am one of many looking forward to the final shipping version to test and see how the XPro-1 really delivers.

Pricing TBD.  For more information go to: http://www.fujifilm.com/products/digital_cameras/x/fujifilm_x_pro1

Sample images are available at: http://www.fujifilm.com/products/digital_cameras/x/fujifilm_x_pro1/sample_images

Not only does Zhang dish up his favorite Ts, but he is kind enough to show us where to find them online. Thanks, Michael!

Head to What the Duck to browse gobs of photo-related T-shirts that have not been vetted by Zhang, such as “Portrait Photographers Do It Vertically” and “Photoshop — Helping the Ugly Since 1988.”

I basically agree with K. Praslowicz, who left a comment stating:

I love photography, but I could never see myself wearing any of these T-shirts. Maybe I’m just weird though, I’ve always disliked any sort of products related to a hobby that didn’t actually help that hobby.

At this point I don’t own a single photography-related T-shirt, and I haven’t been eager to buy one for myself or any of my friends. But then, until Zhang enlightened me, I didn’t know about the “18% Grey” T-shirt.

For photo nerds (like me), this is pretty sweet. If you gift it to me, I’ll definitely wear it. : )

A buddy recently told me to check out the unique

If you have a jewelry-loving, photography-loving Special Person in your life, check out Arnold’s re:vision vision.

If you are looking for (much) less expensive photo-friendly gifts, check out the Photojojo store.

Poking around the Web it turns out — no surprise — there are gobs of gifts promoted as “photographer-friendly.” To me it seems like these gifts are really geared for serious fans of photography, not serious image makers.

Thinking smartly about gifts for such serious image makers, in December 2009 Allen Murabayashi presented “11 Great Gifts for Photographers”, of which my favorite is the still-awesome gift recommendation of Photo Mechanic. But, keeping things light. . .

The Photojojo Store seems to be the single best destination for fun and inexpensive gift goodies for photography fans and serious photographers alike.

For example, for $24 or $30, respectively, you can gift a Canon or Nikon zoom lens coffee mug, which looks so real as to be disconcerting.

The Photojojo Store’s bracelets are not nearly as classy as Arnold’s handcrafted work but, at $10, their price is right. And like their lens mugs, many of Photojojo’s merchandise can be put to use — from The F-Stop Watch ($35) and the iPhone Telephoto Lens ($35) to Fotoclips ($10) and Magnetic Photo Rope ($12).

Reading over my post, I admit, my thought seems a shitload more obvious than I had intended. Still, I think the point is worth considering. More important than identifying our photographic predilections, I think we should consider how to put this information to good use.

As a "straight" photographer, would it serve me to try compositing this club dancer into a vision I create in Photoshop?

Compositing for the “Straight” Photographer

Perhaps those of us who are primarily straight photographers — creating our images with little technical fuss — would do well to push ourselves to work on technical skills that don’t necessarily interest us.

This would refer to photographers like me. I’m a “Click and Go” Man. I do the technical stuff, but only (and sometimes begrudgingly) as a means to an end.

Perhaps I would do well to improve many of the technical (”nurture”) skills I avoid, such as compositing in Photoshop, which doesn’t really interest me.

Why would I work on a skill set that doesn’t interest me, that don’t relate to my current vision? Because, perhaps, by improving my range of technical skills I would  further my image making in ways that I would find satisfying and surprising. It might open up doors.

“Straight” Photography for the Compositer

If you are an über photo techie, relying heavily on post-production techniques, maybe you would do well to practice some straight photography. Andrew Matusik’s experience would seem to support this.

Andrew Matusik is a fantastic commercial photographer who often spends dozens of hours in post-production working on a single image, and the results are stunning. Matusik started in photography by producing, for years, thousands of straight images — relying almost exclusively on basic in-camera techniques. Photographing while traveling, he most interested in light and composition.

Matusik has explained to me that this “straight” foundation in photography has proved invaluable in his compositing work: he knows what looks real. He says that without this point of reference, he would be lost as he creates visions in Photoshop.

Tom Wolfe got me thinking about the nature and nurture aspect of the photographic process in January, when I read “Digibabble, Fairy Dust, and the Human Anthill,” one of his essays in Hooking Up. Wolfe is fascinated by the thinking of Edward O. Wilson, whom he calls “neuroscience’s most extraordinary figure.” According to Wolfe, Wilson believes that, regarding the question of the importance of nurture versus nature in human development, “inbred traits will trump upbringing and environment every time.” In short, Wilson is a nature man. He believes that we were born to be what we are.

Even if you are not interested in the role that genetics plays in character, you will appreciate the analogy Wolfe shares from Wilson, which sums up the thesis Wilson put forward in the final, “now famous Chapter 27″ of Sociobiology: The New Synthesis, published in 1975. Wolfe writes:

“Wilson compressed his theory into one sentence during an interview. Every human brain, he said, is born not as a blank slate waiting to be filled in by experience but as ‘an exposed negative waiting to be slipped into developer fluid.’ The negative might be developed well or it might be developed poorly, but all you were going to get was what was already on the negative at birth.”

It’s a nice analogy, but not as strong as Wilson probably meant it to be. As we photographers know, “developer fluid” can be contaminated to the point off being ineffective, or simply stronger or weaker than expected — greatly altering the “at birth” (at exposure) potential of a latent image. This is what I thought when I read Wolfe’s synthesis of Wilson’s thesis.

I’m not arguing with Wilson’s thoughts about genetics, nor am I being nit-picky about his analogy. But I did like Wilson’s analogy in regard to the nature versus nature debate that stirs up so much emotion. He meant to make a clear statement but presented a analogy that, to photographers at least, it open to interpretation.

Capa Versus Adams

Wolfe/Wilson got me thinking that the processes of different photographers might be seen as fitting into an analogous spectrum with “Nature Photography” on one end and “Nurture Photography” on the other.

Robert Capa survived his landing on Omaha Beach on June 6, 1945. However, even if he had not (and his film had) we would still be able to see the iconic images he made on D-Day. With each release of his shutter, Capa’s image-making process was fundamentally complete. This is an example of what I am calling Nature Photography, not to be confused with photography of nature.

Ansel Adams is well known for the painstaking processes he went through to create his images after he exposed his film. Yes, a darkroom technician could have created a print from Adams’s negative of “Moon and Half Dome,” but it would not have been Adams’ vision. This is an example of what I am calling Nurture Photography.

The Interwoven Pre- and Post-Capture Processes

It would be easy to think that (by their nature) photojournalists inherently work in the realm of what I am calling Nature Photography — fundamentally finishing their process when they release the shutter, no fancy post-production required.

It would be easy to think that photographers who work like Adams inherently fall into this group I am calling Nurture Photographer — fundamentally required to tease their photographic vision into reality after exposure, in post-production.

Of course, it’s not so simple.

There are many documentary photographers who put extensive work into pre-production efforts, complex lighting being an obvious example. On the other hand, until the advent of digital capture, most nature photographers worked with chrome — click, they were done. As Adams did when creating “Moon and Half Dome,” they often used complex filter set ups, precise exposure and, most critical of all, they worked hard to seek out the very best light to nurture their images into existence, in-camera.

There are so many, interwoven technical aspects involved in image making. Therefore, breaking down each photographer’s process will reveal more Nature influences than we might see at first, as well as revealing more Nurture elements than we might first assume. Unlike most photographers, Capa and Adams are fairly clear examples of each particular approach, and even they defy easy categorization.

Such categorization, of course, is actually incredibly limiting. Photography has never been and never will be solely about technique. Robert Capa didn’t suddenly, unexpectedly find himself crawling up one of the most bloody and dangerous beaches in the history of humanity. He worked his ass off to be in that second wave, and he had spent many years honing the skills that allowed him to go “click” under such circumstances. That is a entirely different kind of nurturing that he dedicated to his photographic process.

Why Think About This?

When I read Wolfe’s reporting about Wilson’s thinking, I immediately wanted to share it with you — photographers interested in all kinds of thinking about photography. And so, I could have just published the quote and let you have your own reaction.

To be honest, I’m mainly sharing my thinking about this nature versus nurture spectrum in relation to image making because I think it’s interesting. However, in the name of pragmatism, I thought, “What is the value of sharing this idea?” I suppose I could, and should, ask you.

What do you think about this nature versus nurture aspect of image maing? If you had to put yourself into one camp, what would it be, and why?

I share this piece for all of you, who like me, came of age photographically working in darkrooms.

Smell the fixer?

I feel the sensation of unrolling wet film, eager-anxiously first glimpsing the images on my negatives. Now I’m opening the drying cabinet, dust my enemy. In an hour or five I will be back, and reach into the strands of film, ready to cut-and-sleeve, excited-nervous to hold the plastic sheets up to the light, beginning to carefully explore what sunlight has wrought in silver before I print contact sheets.

Squinting, imagining, I don’t need positive images or a light table and loupe to begin to wade through the potential of my film. This unique sensation — tactile in the fingers, images coming alive in the mind’s eyes — is a specific kind of visual exploration that has vanished with digital, something special that this video evokes for me.

Do you miss wading through your film?

I don’t — not really. But then, I sure can become nostalgic for it. For me working with film is like my childhood: the distant past I would not chose to return to, but which in so many ways I still know better than my world of today.

I am not proposing a “better” or “worse” competition. Clearly, there are young photographers making amazingly wonderful images. And, of course, youthful vision has its own, unique advantages. However, I wonder if it is possible to see a different quality in the images made by more experience photographers.

Now that I write that, it sounds kind of absurd, but at the same time it does not. Kids picking up a camera and snapping away have a tendancy to take surprisingly fresh images. But it seems that older photographers are on special ground when making images with more depth.

For an example of how older, more experienced photographers harnesses their experience in unique ways, I return to Stewart Cohen, who I mentioned last week. In the blog post “My afternoon with B.B. King,”Cohen shares a story in which he plays a game of “cat and mouse” with the blues legend, in an attempt to make a unique image for his book Identity:

I was going for something very natural and wanted his personality as a human being to show through, not his showbiz personality.

Cohen’s challenge was that B.B. King would rather go to the dentist than have his picture taken — at least without his guitar. And, as B.B. King really hates going to the dentist, and as Cohen really wanted to photograph him without his guitar, the photographer had a real challenge on his hands.

Cohen’s challenge went far beyond the mastery of photographic techniques or the ability to see in the purely visual sense. He had to see his vision for photographing B.B. King in a non-”showbiz” manner, and he had to see a way to achieve this, which was not easy. (See his post for details.)

I would never argue that Cohen’s image of B.B. King is the “best” out there, but it certainly is a unique vision of a highly photographed subject.

Ultimately, I think what makes the images of more experienced photographers more interesting is that the photographers have become less interested in the images themselves, less interested with the process of photography itself.

Do you find that older professional photographers make a different kind of images than younger pros, or am I just waxing poetic here?

Think about wedding photography. Why does everyone have a photographer documenting their wedding? It’s kind of a weird tradition. It’s because it validates the commitment. The event is more important because it’s documented.

Krogh went on to say:

It’s amazing how a good wedding photographer ends up being kind of a wedding couch. They are there the whole time. They can spend more time with the couple than anyone else. The wedding photographer’s job is much more important than just taking pictures.

It wasn't so much that Celeste really wanted a picture of her getting makeup applied; she wanted the moment to be documented, to make it more meaningful.

Beyond Pretty Wedding Pictures

Krogh didn’t need to explain what he was talking about. I’ve only photographed a handful of weddings, but I quickly got used to the couples thanking me profusely at the end of the day — without seeing a single image! Obviously they were responding to my presence, and to the fact that I had somehow made their wedding a much better experience.

If you are a wedding photographer, you know this: The images you are making are important, but it’s just as important that you providing an experience that best appeals to the specific couple.

If you would like to be a wedding photographer, or to improve your wedding photography: Think less about perfecting your images, and focus more on how to be the kind of wedding coach that Krogh mentions.

I was amazed how, after only a couple weddings, I was able to provide couples with valuable (and desired) advice about the Big Day. And why shouldn’t I be able to do so? After all, I had been intimately involved in other weddings, seeing them from the most angles and witnessing the most intimate moments.

A Great Time To Be a Wedding Photographer!

Old-fashioned wedding photographers bemoaned the advent of digital; savvy wedding photographers welcomed it.

Now that photography has become so easy for all, if you are interested in wedding photography, you have more and not less opportunities. This is because you don’t have to be stressed out about making the photographs. You can focus on bearing witness and, if you are really good, being a kind of off-the-record wedding coach, even if that’s not how you advertise your services.

As Krogh explained to me, what couples really want, whether they know it or not, is for the photographer to validated their experiences by bearing witness through the act of documenting.

If it doesn’t fizzle out, something very special happens. As photographers continue to work through their decades, they push themselves to embrace new technologies, to redefine their business models in evolving markets, and to take on new creative challenges, even if their clients don’t demand it.

We always say that learning photography is really learning to see, and this is true. But we tend to express this sentiment in relation to a very limited sense of seeing — the visual sense. Older photographers seem to continue to learn to see on a much deeper level, in terms of what it is to be a working artist and, most important, how this relates to their continual growth and satisfaction as an individual.

I share this thought because once again I find myself thinking of something Stewart Cohen told me when I interviewed him for “In Search of Identity” for Rangefinder. I closed the article with this memorable sentiment:

“I’m 49 and I haven’t done anything else except photography since 1983. I was once like any other typical 30-year-old, hotshot photographer — having exploded onto the scene, thinking I had made it. My Identity project has helped me see that, in the arc of my career as an artist, my true style is only just beginning to come out.”

Older photographers seem, almost inevitably, both wiser and more creative and yet also more humble. Like Cohen, they seem to look to the future with more excitement. They are less concerned with the fleeting satisfaction of the external rewards of money or recognition. More than anything, they seem to want to open new doors that will help them continue to develop their sense of vision.

In this interview, Gail Mooney explains that at the Professional Photography Teleseminar she will be speaking to “photographers who think they might be interested in moving into motion.” Interviewer Adam of RETV jumps in and says:

Which is just about every photographer out there right now because it is such a huge movement. I mean, it’s very similar to when we switched over from film to digital. You know, you’ve got everyone out there right now trying to pick up a camera and shoot motion because the clients are asking for it.

I had never thought of the move into motion as being analogous to the switch from film to electronic capture and, in many ways, the shift seems to be a more massive one. After all, we’ve come to accept that a “still film photographer” and “still digital photographer” are, fundamentally, one and the same. On the other hand, a “still photographer only” and “still photographer and videographer” — which is how Mooney defines herself — are totally different creatures.

Sure, it’s possible that not every photographer is currently moving into motion as Adam suggests (and this blog assumes). But those photographers not at least interested in the potential of motion seem as rarefied as, say, a 1995-era photographer who insisted on only photographing with black-and-white film using an 11 x 14 view camera.

“Drop the Digital from Photography” Chase Jarvis blogged in November, asking, “Isn’t it time we implore the rest of the world to assimilate the term ‘digital photography’ back into ‘photography’ as a whole?”

As 2011 gets rolling, almost everyone who buys a new point-and-shoot camera or cell phone gains the ability to capture motion, and will so so comfortably. Given this, isn’t it becoming ridiculous, and perhaps self-limiting, to talk about “still photographers”?

I think that each photographer needs to define what his speciality is and what types of image making most interests him. But aren’t we getting to a point when saying “I’m a still photographer” is like saying, if even unintentionally, “I’m against the possibilities of motion”?