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Ok, let's talk a bit about bokeh then. For many this is, together with sharpness, one of the most interesting aspect of a new lens. 'Is the Batis 2/40 CF's bokeh good?', I hear many of you asking, but reducing such a complex subject into a one single-line question is a difficult approach. To be honest, I've been avoiding this topic because (1) it's difficult to discuss the bokeh with terms-explicit-enough; people have different expectations, aesthetics and words. Another reason avoiding this topic until now is that (2) it's difficult represent the bokeh quality of some particular lens with just few pictures. The best way evaluating it would be to use the lens yourself within the context of your own photography, but this sort of laconic statement doesn't fit into mission of the this blog – so I will share some of my thoughts about the bokeh.
But first, let's get a bit philosophical here. Photographers love to talk about which lens has a good bokeh and which does not. I totally understand this discussion, but I also honestly believe that one should not generally try to find the lens 'which has the best bokeh', or step into a pitfall of ranking different lenses based on how blurry background can be achieved with them. The problem is that this sort of approach makes the bokeh a single dimensional character of the lens (good vs. bad) and ignores the fact that it is also an aesthetic judgment. Convoyed by this kind of discourse many photographer approach bokeh from the point of view of optics, ie. what happens inside the lens. The characteristics of bokeh are cut up to technical attributes like the shape and structure of the aperture iris, transition between focus and out-of-focus areas, characteristics of the highlight discs, and so on. Still, the bokeh and its characteristics are largely dependent of the circumstances one shoots, and every lens can be taken to situations where the bokeh rendering falls apart.
I would like to think that the bokeh is also an aesthetic attribute of a particular picture. Instead of all technical details, this sort of approach emphasizes the aesthetic nature of the bokeh. We shouldn't just ask if the bokeh is distracting or not, but how does it add into picture. For example, personally I'm not too interested about totally diffused bokeh with blobs, bubbles and all (something to which this initially a Japanese term refers to). I much prefer a more simple subject separation where the background has some blurred gradations and still contain cues about environment. Of course a lens and it's optical structure plays a big role here, I'm not dismissing all the technical stuff, but this sort of approach also reminds that there are no magic lenses that can create perfect bokeh all the time (how boring would that be) and on the other hand any lens can be used to create bokeh that can support picture aesthetically.
So what to expect from the Batis 2/40 CF's bokeh? Well, it is a moderately wide focal length, so one should not expect a super diffused bokeh as none of the 35mm lenses nor the 50mm lenses provide that (you needs at least a 85mm lens for that). But this is not to say that these lenses don't do bokeh. On the contrary, the 35mm and 50mm lenses are known for certain kind of classic aesthetics which speaks to many people – not to shallow depth of field but not too extended either. Here's a small comparison so it's easier to put the Batis 2/40 CF into context of other focal lengths and apertures (the formula used here is simple, just divide focal length with the maximum aperture, it will give you a rough idea of bokeh potential):
ZEISS Batis 2/25 | 12,5
Sony 35/2.8 ZA | 12,5
Sony 24/1.4 GM | 17,1
general 35/1.8 | 19,4
ZEISS Batis 2/40 CF | 20
Sony 35/1.4 ZA | 25
ZEISS Loxia 2/50 | 25
ZEISS Batis 1.8/85 | 47,2
The Batis 2/40 CF offers quite nice bokeh potential adding a touch more than the general 35/1.8 lens, but less than more heavier 35/1.4 lenses – interestingly the bokeh potential resembles more of a 35mm lenses than 50mm. In practice I think it's very sufficient as it enables subject separation even a bit further away and if you want to melt your background completely it is certainly possible at close distances.
Largely speaking the Batis 2/40 CF is a consistent and a reliable lens when it comes to bokeh. One could describe the bokeh 'creamy' meaning that out of focus points of light will often turn into soft indistinct blobs that melt into each other. The consistent also means that one very rarely sees any degradations, but of course any lens can be put into conditions where the bokeh will eventually fall apart. But in this regard the Batis 2/40 CF is very easy lens to shoot with and it doesn't offer nasty surprises. At its best, at close range, the bokeh is quite painterly looking and gives pictures a nice timeless look – perfect for many wedding photographers and such. With the extended distances the bokeh of course dilutes, but still retains contrast and doesn't become hazy. Between the close range and extended distance the lens shows a very good subject separation with excellent contrast.
Unlike the Batis 1.8/85 (for example) the Batis 2/40 CF has three aspherical glass elements within it which can, in theory, cause some onion rings. I've seen a few with some strong highlights like led lights and such, but mainly the bokeh blobs are very clean and consistent, meaning they don't have distinct edges and they also keep their shape quite nicely as well. One can see them flattening a bit at the corners, but this generally happens with many 35mm and is expected. In right circumstances the bokeh blobs show longitudal chromatic aberrations, but definitely less than with the Batis 2/25.
All in all the Batis 2/40 CF succeeds in creating a quite pleasant bokeh which of course also depends on the subject background. Together with the excellent sharpness at focal plane the pleasant and 'creamy' bokeh creates a certain contrast between focused and out of focus areas – something which I think gives the Batis 2/40 CF its distinct rendering characteristics. Compared to other Batis lenses (Batis 2/25 & Batis 1.8/85) the rendering characteristics are very similar, but with the Batis 2/40 CF they perhaps the most consistent.
So, there you go, my thoughts about the bokeh. Does the Batis 2/40 CF automatically give you a perfect bokeh for your pictures? Or course not, because one has to work with bokeh, just like with composition and light. But the Batis 2/40 CF has great potential if you like your bokeh creamy. So, yes the bokeh is important but it is not more important than other elements in picture. I could as far as to say that when the subject is strong enough, the character of the bokeh will be largely meaningless. So, always look for the strong subjects first and only after then let the bokeh add its magic to the picture at the background - with its consistent bokeh the Batis 2/40 CF is certainly capable of that.
Previously at day #19 I wrote about the major waypoint in photographic development where one ceases to imitate others and starts creating photography from his own point of view. Today I want raise up another important waypoint in photographic development and it is the step when you start to manipulate the scenes you are photographing.
For beginners it is typical that they search for nice looking photographic scenes and 'snap' away when they find one – typical sceneries being sunsets, flowers, landscapes etc. One can of course make interesting pictures this way, but as a method this approach is pretty limited and doesn't provide much ground for photographic development. But as soon as you start to plan your pictures and try get the circumstances as good as possible for a great picture you take a huge step in your photography. There are of course endless ways to manipulate and enhance your scenes and there is no right or wrong here. For example, a landscape photographer might start to plan his photography according with the sun movements and weather. A portrait photographer might start to make collaboration with makeup artists for better subjects. An outdoor photographer might plan trips to certain high profile places for better portfolio. Etc. The point is that when you start to manipulate your scenes you don't just 'take' pictures, you start to 'make' them.
I began to manipulate scenes when I bought a broken 'cheap ass' Yongnuo led light. Once you learn to manipulate the light, whether it's led lights, flashes, modifiers or natural light, it opens up huge amount of different possibilities and will take your photography to a new level. Personally for me, that small led light opened ways to produce creative photography. It was simple enough to use, because (unlike flash) it transmits continuous light which I could move freely while evaluating results at the same time. Rather paradoxically it enabled me to introduce a certain darkness into my photography because I could kill all other light sources. Inspired by obscure dream like feelings I started to create these silent scenes that addressed something within me. I learned to love a chiaroscuro type of lighting where all the light sources are within the scene itself and no additional light comes from the outside. Only later on I learned the actual term for it and the fact that this type of aesthetics was largely invented by Caravaggio (see some examples here). In my photographic vision the chiaroscuro meant dramatic and contemporary look which would hide obscure and subconscious feelings within its darkness. In short, these type of pictures addressed my 'photographic eye' and they became part of my identity as a photographer.
This is of course a nice story, but the real point that I want to make here is that all of this was possible with just one light. Technically very simple, but it enabled me to start manipulating scenes and get into that creative flow where one successful picture would often produce ideas for the next one. If I hadn't bought that led light, it could have happened that I would never have taken that crucial step where my photography changed from 'take' to 'make'. For me it meant photographic development and it has given me a lot of inspiration and joy. Needless to say that it was easily the best 70 bucks I've spent on photography, even if the lid of the battery case was broken when I received that 'cheap ass' light.
© 2019 Thousand Word Images by Dustin Abbott
Some of the best lenses for wedding photographers (and food/product photographers) are lenses that are not only good at a distance but can allow you to also shoot up close and get the details. The new Zeiss Batis 40mm F2 CF (Close Focus) is one of those lenses, allowing you to shoot at near-macro levels with great detail rendering. This shot might also work for the ladies for whom love and shoes are pretty much synonymous! You can see more images from the Batis 40 here: bit.ly/batis240ig and watch my first look video episode here: bit.ly/batis240FL
#photodujour #dustinabbott #photography #2019 #sony #a7RIII #zeiss #batis240 #loveshoes #romance #weddingphotography #bokehlovers
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With previous posts I've written about personal photographic development. There are important waypoints along the road which can lift up your photography to new levels, but there are also pitfalls. The obvious pitfall is to concentrate too much on equipment, brand differences and so on – at the expense of real content. But it is kind of too obvious and I've already write about my own experiences at day #11. So, instead I decided to write about something that goes a little bit deeper: our tendency to compare ourselves with others (and a habit of seeing photography as a competitive art form). As basic human function it is, and necessary for development, it can also be a pitfall that dries your inspiration.
Comparing ourselves to others is how our identities are built: by comparing ourselves to our peer groups we build social maps and position ourselves on those maps based on knowledge we get from the comparison. It's a fair argument that the comparison is also needed for development because we learn from others and build on what others have left for us. Being a self taught photography enthusiast I could even go as far as to say that everything I've learned from photography has come from others in a way or another.
But when it comes to building your own photographic identity and your way of seeing, the comparison will very likely disturb this process. There are many photographers out there that I've admired for their recognizable visual style. And there's a certain feeling that I get when I find some new photographer who has a very distinct style. Most often that feeling is something along the lines 'how come I don't do that kind of photography?' or 'if I could just take similar kind of pictures I would also have a strong visual identity like that'. But over the years I've learned that this sort of approach can actually distract my own vision, because it yields downward pressure, the feeling that you are 'not getting there', which will eventually affect the inspiration as well. This can become a vicious circle which will eventually kill the pleasure like a poison drank from the pink and compelling bottle. Another alternative is that one starts to build similar pictures and to think he is making great pictures because they are essentially the same that receive recognition in forums and social media. Just look at any Instagram feed and there are probably many pictures of guys standing front of the Milky way with their flashlights up in the air – it's visual identity for some few, but most of the others are just copying and not getting anywhere. The pitfall is that one tries to develop his own visual identity with a same method that usually work well when learning new photography techniques. But the comparison is often a process that brings the divergence closer and it rarely opens up new pathways.
For me one important lesson has been that I intentionally try to detach myself from other photographers work. I admire some photographers, but I don't follow anyone or compare my work with them. On a fundamental level I've accepted that I'm a different story and I will not become someone I admire even if I wanted to. In a way I've made peace with myself and don't fight against what naturally flows out inside of me – even if it's not as cool or refined as something else. Instead I urge everyone to find their own 'fragile string of what is meaningful' which they can start to wind up. Stop worrying whether 'you are getting there or not', instead create your own visual world. I can already hear someone screaming 'but you need talent to do that'. I'd like to think that getting personal is enough, the talent will follow once you have really established 'the why' behind your photography and defined 'the success' on a personal level (whatever it is). From there your photography is supported by larger structures (the context you've made yourself) and iterating your photography within those structures will eventually bring in the talent (maybe after the famous 10 000 pictures). Then someday someone from the outside of your personal world comes by and is amazed how personal and unique your photography is. It is because you've followed your own vision and built your own identity as a photographer.
So, don't compare. Instead try to create your own vision and identity as a photographer. If you keep your focus on creating and evaluating your work, you are 'getting there'.
I have to admit that I've been really fascinated about focal lengths after I explored the Batis 2/40 CF's relationship with other ZEISS lenses (see previous post here). 'The standard focal length', now that's something I've been wondering while trying to position the ZEISS Batis 2/40 CF on my mental map. Like many of you already know the 35mm and 50mm lenses are most often considered to be 'standard focal lengths', meaning that their image projection looks about the same as what we see with the naked eye, or so they say. Some go even further and claim that in terms of field of view the human eye is practically a 35mm or a 50mm lens – which one it is, is of course an opportunity for a great dispute, but I guess the 50mm focal length is mentioned more often. In a way, there exists an idea of 'a standard focal length' that is based on a conception that human eye works similar way as a lens, and this very idea has been guiding many photographers for decades.
If you dig this idea little deeper, you will soon find out that human vision doesn't actually work as a lens or camera at all. As a matter of fact, the whole eye-to-camera analogy represents 19th century mechanical thinking when the human vision was not yet understood very well. Today we of course know much more and the whole concept of human vision has become a much more complex issue.
First of all, we don’t see 'a field of view', we only see a very small sharp area in the very centre of our vision and the rest is pretty blurry. There’s of course a peripheral vision, the things we see in the corner of our eye, which is about 160 degrees, but the brain reconstructs the whole image from eye scanning the scene in smaller sections. Then there’s also pattern, color and movement recognition that happens underneath the conscious mind and the weird part is that all this 'raw data' is mixed with unconscious subjective psychology that guides our seeing. The human eye (iris and all) can of course be measured and if one follows this train of mechanical thinking, it can be said the human eye is roughly a full frame equivalent of a 43mm lens with aperture of f/3.5 or so – it’s just that this snippet of information doesn’t have much to do with the complexity of human vision. Now, that 43mm focal length of the human eye would be a great pro argument for the new ZEISS Batis 2/40 CF, 'more standard than the standard' – except it wouldn’t be honest.
When biological reasons for 'the standard focal length' fall short, one has to look for technical reasons. Interestingly it turns out that the physical size of the celluloid film has much more to do with 'the standard focal length' than the biology of the human eye. For the traditional 35mm film camera, a 50mm lens was an effective approximation of the focal length necessary to fill the diagonal dimensions of the 35mm film negative – an ideal physical correspondence with the optics and film size. In addition, 50mm lenses could be manufactured with the famous double-gauss design which meant that they were easy to produce due to relatively simple optical concept. I should add that in practice the 50mm focal length was also a easy focal length to use and even beginners could get successful images with it without too much technical knowledge. In other words there are many technical reasons (related to physical size of the celluloid film and manufacturing limitations) why 50mm lens became to known as 'the standard focal length' and why so many early consumer cameras came with the 50mm lens.
In the past the celluloid film presented a manufacturing standard to which 'the standard focal length' was tied to, but today it’s different because we have many different sensor sizes. For example, ever wondered why many smartphones have lenses around 28mm focal length (full frame equivalent) which is quite far from that other 'standard focal length'? Well, they have small sensors and for those the 28mm seems to be preferred focal length as it is probably easier to manufacture lens with necessary specifications to match the small sensors. Well, to be honest, one also have to add consumer demand into equation ie. many people want to capture casual shots as well as landscape shots with the same phone. But in effect it turns out that the whole idea of 'the standard focal length' changes with time and technical application, and it’s also a question of taste as many photographers seem to associate it the 35mm lenses. In other words, there is no real standard focal length which could be based on biology of human vision or even on technical reasons. Kind of interesting isn’t it? Well, I have to make one small migitation: extreme focal lengths surely seem odd to human vision (with perspective distortions and everything) and because of that it is legitimate to argue that some focal length might be more natural than some other, but nevertheless there doesn’t exist an exact focal length that would correspond to our vision.
So, now that we have 'deconstructed' the idea of 'the standard focal length' there still remains one last question: who actually invented this original idea that has intrigued so many photographers through the decades? Well, it turns out that it was a German optician and businessman who lived in Jena and had a name you might have heard before: Carl Zeiss (1816-1888). It was ZEISS's advertising in the late 19th century which cultured a belief that things like human eye and vision could be measured scientifically and that this information could be translated to lens manufacturing. Carl Zeiss standardized the manufacturing of lenses, but also as a kind of 'a side-effect' he also categorized focal lengths into various applications that included things like 'portrait lenses', 'group shot lenses', 'studio lenses', etc., which you can find from early Carl Zeiss catalogues. Before Carl Zeiss the focal length was just an objective physical measurement without meaningful categories, a sequence of numbers that formed a continuum. Zeiss carefully educated his customers and created 'standard' categories for photographic applications as he also created 'standards' for the lens manufacturing (but to be honest he didn't do this entirely by himself, but together with other actors in his time). In other words, the idea of 'the standard focal length' traces back to Carl Zeiss and the history of photographic lenses. It’s a fascinating history and this is just one example of what ZEISS has brought to photographic world, but I personally find it to be one of the most intriguing one. It makes you think when you attach that 50mm, 35mm or 40mm lens to your camera: 'what was it again? Why am I using this particular focal length and not something else?'
Ps. There are some flares in the picture coming from the lights. These are actually sensor reflections coming from the A7-sensor (known first generation problem). Do not mistake them with the Batis 2/40 CF.
If you haven't noticed it yet, I'm definitely a ZEISS enthusiast. There are many reasons why I like the company. First of all, with its unique history ZEISS have had a great impact on modern photography, which include things like invention of different lens types & lens coatings, creation lenses for NASA's lunar mission and much more. Secondly, there's a certain intellectual perfectionism with everything they do that resonates quite well with my ideals and taste. Take the Otus lenses or the new ZX1 for example. And the last but not least, in my experience people at ZEISS are one of most polite with professional attitude and have their foot on the ground. Ask about any weak spot in some of their product and they will gladly explain the compromises without marketing nonsense.
But I have not always been a ZEISS enthusiast. For a long time ZEISS was a bit unknown brand and lens manufacturer to me. When I was using the Sony Nex-5N I knew the name, but I didn't really understood why some photographers were raving about ZEISS. To be honest, the company seemed a bit like niche brand for those who preferred to make things more difficult than what it needed to be in digital age (ZEISS only had manual focus lenses and their naming scheme was difficult to understand). But then I had my first public photography project and because of it I had an opportunity to test two ZEISS lenses for couple of months: Touit 2.8/12 & Touit 2.8/50M. Before I got the lenses for a test somebody warned me: 'once you go ZEISS you don't want to use anything else anymore'.
I remember vividly when did the first outing with the Touits. Already then I noticed from the back of my Nex-5N that the pictures looked different. Particularly the colors where different than with the Sony APS-C lenses I had used earlier. Now, I've always been very keen on colors and for about month the ZEISS lenses felt different in a way that's difficult to describe – to be honest, I was not sure if they were actually better or worse, and I kind of lost some of my reference points in post processing. But then after a month I had readjusted some of my post processing methods I was suddenly getting the best colors I've ever had before. Before my colors had always been 'close, but quite there' for reasons unknown to me. I wasn't unhappy with them, but I often felt that there was some 'secret post processing technique' that I had not yet learned and I kept trying and trying. So maybe you can imagine my astonishment when suddenly my results (after thousands of raw files), especially with colors and contrast, were great and without too much effort. I still remember the very pictures which were the first ones that really resonated with me.
Looking back I think my experience was very much driven by using high quality premium lenses for the very first time in my photography. Maybe I could have experience the same with some other high quality lenses as well, but like many things in life, it was a lucky coincidence that my path happened to cross with ZEISS. And it was not just this single anecdote why I loved the Touits. Using those lenses gave me a new foundation, 'a solid base', to which I then rebuilt my color aesthetics. I felt I was getting there and quite naturally that got me to the point where it was next to impossible to go back using same lenses I had before. So I took the 'ZEISS blue pill' and got happily converted – just like that someone had warned me before. Consider yourself warned.