Normal view

Received — 11 September 2025 The Online Photographer

What Just Happened?!

10 September 2025 at 22:06

IMPORTANT NOTE: The way to get to me (The Online Photographer a.k.a. TOP) in the future will be to go directly to...

theonlinephotographer.com

...which is my domain that I own and can control.

theonlinephotographer.org  should work as well. All the old TypePad links will go dark after September 30th. Please make note of the new URL and, if you can and wouldn’t mind helping, please spread the word!

Every now and then in life, you get a wild ride that you didn’t see coming. Or rather, it’s like a sign I saw on a city bus in D.C. many years ago. The sign, above the automated side door of the bus, said "WARNING: Door May Close Without Warning," below which some wag had written 'Not any more it won't."

Both were right, in a way. The sign's warning is general, and it means you won’t get any notice that the door is closing at any specific moment. You get it.

So that’s the warning I had about the demise of TypePad, the blogging platform that has been TOP’s home for 17 years. Generally, the handwriting had been on the wall since 2020, when they stopped accepting new customers. Specifically, though, the end hit me like a lightning bolt from blue sky.

On August 27th, TypePad announced it would be shutting down—on September 30th. That gave slackers like me a month and three days to do two important things: 1.) prepare existing content (I have quite a lot of it, as you might know) for migration and make sure backups were all in order, and 2.) get a new site built somewhere else. That would have been hard enough. A mere seven days later, though, on September 4th, TypePad experienced some sort of unexplained but catastrophic crash. Probably, all their clients were bombarding their servers with requests to retrieve content—I know that’s what I was doing. TOP vanished from the Web. It seems to be back up now (thanks, TypePad team...they're working very hard and dealing with a lot of ¢R@p, I'm sure). 

With the help and input of lots of people, including Gordon L., Alex B., Martin Q., Chris C., Chris F., Richard T., and Robin H.—and others, not forgetting them—I decided that the imperative was to get a new site up quickly. That's what you'll see if you go to theonlinephotographer.com or .org now. It's a "Coming Soon" page as I write this...or should be; soon it will be a temporary placeholder site, and after that it'll be a customized self-hosted Wordpress-dot-org site built with professional help. As for an archive site with old posts, well, all in good time.

We're not out of the woods yet. This amounts to what magazine people used to call a relaunch, and it was well understood in the magazine world that relaunches were essentially just as perilous as inaugural launches of new titles. Old habits and old expectations get broken, existing customers have trouble finding you, and circulation (called traffic on the Web) takes a dip.

But—as Jack Nicholson’s character in The Shining said, “I’m baaa-ack!”

I sure am glad. Wild days indeed. I have to say, though, I'm really going to miss the old site. It's as comfortable as the proverbial old shoe. I'm so used to writing in its compositor that I have trouble with all other word-processing programs. I suppose I'll have to adjust.

Still a lot of work to do yet, but hopefully I'll be around here for the rest of the month. Then on to v.3 (this is the second incarnation of TOP. The new one will be v.3).

Another quote, from a now-ancient TV show: "And awaaay we go!"

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Received — 4 September 2025 The Online Photographer

Zooms: You Can't Have It All

4 September 2025 at 18:17

...Another interesting zoom option that I wasn't aware of: Bill B. tells us that Canon makes an RF 24–105mm ƒ/4 L for its full-frame mirrorless (FFM) R cameras. If I were shooting FFM and wanted a zoom, that's one I'd look at. (The idea in these posts being that I could really use something longer than the common 70mm at the long end—some readers agree and some don't.)

I read a few online reviews of the Canon, though, and it's funny what people complain about. One guy said, "The first thing that I noticed about the lens was all of the plastic in the build of the lens. I don't have confidence in a plastic lens. I expected more for the money spent." Another said, "It is a wonderful lens. But, I'd like to see it at ƒ/2 or 2.8; it'd be a unique asset without a doubt."

No you wouldn't. What was that old joke about lenses, applied to zooms? Something along the lines of: "Good range, high speed, reasonable price and weight—pick any two."

There's no reason not to shoot with zooms any more. Their optical quality is somewhat variable, but no more so than that of primes, and you can't tell the difference in pictures as to what was shot with what. I used to say that the disadvantage of zooms was that a zoom was as big as the biggest lens it replaced and as slow as the slowest lens it replaced. That might not be exactly true any more. The big advantage being that, well, it zooms. 

I have to say AI is proving more useful than I thought it was going to be. However, when I asked it, "What is Canon's fastest zoom?", it answered, "Canon's fastest zoom lens depends on the specific focal length range and mount, but a notable example is the Canon 50mm ƒ/0.95, a vintage rangefinder lens." Okay then, still a few bugs in the system. But if you imagine a 24–105mm ƒ/2 zoom, it's not going to be compact and reasonably priced. It's going to be enormous and very, very expensive. Bigger and costlier than Canon's shelf-queen RF 28–70mm ƒ/2 L USM, which weighs a good chunk over three pounds and costs a good chunk over three grand. That one strikes me as the perfect lens to own for bragging rights but to leave at home when you actually go out to photograph. I would use it for putting on the mantel and admiring. Having said that, there 

Of course, just as price sensitivity varies greatly depending on how prosperous you are, weight also depends on context. I imagine if you're a photographer who regularly uses extreme telephotos and telephoto zooms, which are large and heavy, then a mid-range zoom that is large and heavy for its class might not seem all that bad.

Best all-rounder, but
Probably the top zoom lens I know about is the OM System 12–100mm ƒ/4 IS PRO: a sterling lens that has no real weaknesses over a broad range, and has excellent IS in conjunction with the best of the cameras it fits, and it's relatively small and reasonably priced. But: it's for the 4/3 sensor. (It's always something.) Charlie Ewers said, two days ago, "The Olympus 12–100mm (24–200mm equivalent) had the best everyday zoom range I've used extensively. Now that I've switched to Fuji, I really like the 16–80mm (24–120mm-e), but sometimes I still miss the extra range on the long end." I don't have that Fuji, but that's the only one that suits.

I should really get that 16–80mm for my Fuji. I need some experience with up-to-date good (not cheap, not just "okay") zooms.

Probably the cheapest way to get a good zoom, for beginners, is to settle on one of the recently outmoded DSLRs and find a good utility zoom for one of those cameras that got good reviews in its day. Ian Bilson recommends the old AF Zoom Nikkor 28–105mm ƒ/3.5–4.5D that B&H lists in "9" condition for $139. There are many others. Don't go too crazy looking for perfection; one could while away many useless hours researching outdated DSLR zooms on the internet. I have to mention that historically, I haven't had good luck with Nikkor zooms. I've owned several and even used one for a while as my main lens. People talk about cropping to achieve the equivalent of more reach on high-res sensors; ironically, I had to crop my Nikkor zoom when I used it wide open just to get rid of the smeary corners.

The most interesting of the Nikkor zooms I had (remembering that I'm not a fan of zooms and don't have that much experience) was the Nikkor Series E 75–150mm ƒ/3.5. A 2x zoom from 1980 meant for the economy EM camera, it had a cult following among fashion photographers because it was very flattering to models. In those days when you couldn't manipulate results, it made skin look smooth and had enough resolution but not too much. One of those lenses that was "bad" but in a good way. I had to buy three of them to get one good one: one had fungus, and another was so loose that the zoom setting would creep if you looked at it sideways. It was a "one-touch" zoom, meaning, rotate to focus and slide the same ring to change the focal-length setting—one-touch zooms were all the rage for a while in the late '70s and early '80s. I didn't like them. It was rumored that Nikon was repeatedly urged to issue the exact same optics in a more robust lensmount, but they never did. Ken Rockwell reports that Galen Rowell, very famous back in those decades as a nature and wildlife photographer and the author of bestsellers that were very popular with photography aficionados, used and liked the 75–150mm Series E.

I wouldn't get one today. Along those lines, I guess I should also mention that I have a pretty strong policy to prefer current lenses that were designed specifically to go with whatever camera I'm using. Based on long long experience and recurring frustrations; life's too short. Although, of course, like you, probably, I'll do whatever I want.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Received — 1 September 2025 The Online Photographer

New Zoom Lenses!

1 September 2025 at 14:32

Just a short note this Monday morning as it's my pool day. I haven't spent a minute on the table since the news broke about TypePad going under, the longest stretch I've missed since the pool table was delivered, in an example of serendipitously great timing, right before COVID-19 hit. That was sweet. I spent many hours on the table during those 1–2 years of mostly quarantine.

As a result of the previous post, I am learning about some new zoom lenses that I hadn't heard about before. I'm going to go light on posting "Featured Comments" in the month of September, because the whole site will be coming down at the end of the month anyway (plus I hope I'm going to be busy this month, starting tomorrow—today is Labor Day in the US, a holiday), but I'll do Featured Comments on that post. Lots of interesting opinions and options.

One I hadn't heard of is the Tamron 35–150mm full-frame lens. That looks interesting. I've generally liked Tamron bokeh and from online samples it looks like I'd like it on that lens. Barely more than 4x at 4.2x, the range is unique and interesting. (A 4x zoom range is my longtime limit of what I'll consider for purchase—the more extreme the zoom range, the harder the lens is to correct without making it huge.) That would be a good candidate for pairing with a 21mm-e as a great two-lens kit. 

But the most interesting news (news to me, that would be): Sony now makes a lens with a unique zoom range, the 20–70mm ƒ/4. Only four inches long and a little over a pound in weight—nice. I wouldn't be bothered by the ƒ/4 speed—ISOs are so good so high now. The more extreme the speed with a zoom, the harder a lens is to correct without making it huge. And only 3.5x. It's meant to be a slower but wider full-frame alternative to the ubiquitous 24–70's that I was rather damning with faint praise yesterday (although, of course, we heard from several photographers for whom that range is perfect, and I've no argument with them—everyone's needs and prefs are different). Know how I'd use that one though? As a compact 30–105mm equivalent on the absolutely beautiful and wondrously solid APS-C Sonys that I liked so much, the current iteration being the A6700. I tried the A6300 and briefly owned an A6500, and loved them—such beautiful build quality and great hand-feel, with those big, beefy batteries that last and last. Round the zoom out with something like the Sony 11mm ƒ/1.8 for interiors and I'd be good to go with an efficient, portable, and nice-for-Mike two-lens kit. Yum.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Received — 31 August 2025 The Online Photographer

The Best Zoom Range

31 August 2025 at 18:19

New nikkor zoom

The new Nikkor-Z 24–70mm ƒ/2.8 II

I noticed that Nikon has (pick one) revamped, refreshed, restored, and renewed its mainstream mid-range zoom for the Z System, the bread-and-butter 24–70mm. The main difference is that the new lens has internal zooming, for the first time ever, according to Nikon, in a lens of this spec. Its length is about mid-way between the lengths of the older lens when extended and not extended. The lens has apparently inspired Nikon to poetry: the automatic focusing is effected by a new tech called "Silky Swift" VCM (voice coil motor). Nikon says the SSVCM AF is the fastest in its history. Which is cool. Although I'm not sure how significant that will be if it's only a tiny bit faster than the old lens—I've used several other alleged fastest-evers over the years and generally it wasn't something I would have noticed if they hadn't told me about it. The idea of it is the most attractive part. You'd have to use both to see if you notice it. The internal focusing and zooming, though, has a real practical effect—it means the lens won't suck in dust, and it enables the lens to be better sealed against moisture. Nikon also says the lens won't change its balance as its settings are changed when used in video rigs and so forth, although I don't know how significant that can be either. The new lens is optimized in several ways for video, because that's the age we're in. It costs $2,800, which for a normal zoom of top quality sounds both crazy and is also probably to be expected. Nikon also says it's the lightest lens in its class at a pound and a half. 

Longtime readers might be getting a mite suspicious at my tone, because they remember that I'm not the world's biggest fan of zoom lenses in general. I admit to that. But I've used a lot of them, of course, over many years. And what this makes me think is, yes, the lens does sound like it's really been improved, even over its excellent predecessor, and that's mighty appealing on its face; who doesn't hanker for the best?

But wait. Do you really want a lens of this range in the first place? I had to think about that for a minute.

I've found that, for myself, a zoom lens is more useful if it goes longer. And, I don't need it to be so wide. One of my early zoom lenses for 35mm film, also a Nikkor, was, if memory serves, a 35–105mm. That was a better range for me. When I bought my first DSLR in 2006, it came with a 28–75mm Tamron-built, Minolta-branded zoom that I used as my only lens until the camera broke—on "cropped sensor," as they called APS-C sized chips at the time, it was a 42–112mm equivalent. And it was an eye-opener for me, because, even with the near-normal short end, the longer long end was really nice to have, and quite useful even for a guy who's never been that much into telephoto shooting. I of course intended to exchange that lens for a "better" one even as I bought the camera, but in fact I never did. It was a nice-looking lens with good performance, and I was satisfied with the range. You can still buy a descendant of that very lens today. 

A 70mm focal length on the long end just doesn't do it, IMHO. It makes any zoom lens feel like half a zoom. It's not useful enough for enough things. Yes, you can kinda press it into service as a portrait focal length, replacing an 85mm or 90mm, but even so it's not ideal, and I've usually always had a prime for my short tele because it's an important lens to me. 

What would be your ideal focal length range for a zoom lens? Definitely taking into account things like probable cost and weight. All in all, I'd rather have a zoom with a longer focal length on both ends, and then fill in with a prime ultrawide at the wide end. Like, say, a 35–110mm zoom with a 21mm prime in the bag. That would do best for me.

Your zooming may vary.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

      

First Update on the Great Update

31 August 2025 at 16:43

Ed. note: TypePad, TOP's home for 17 years, is going out of business on September 30th and wiping its contents from the Web. I'm scrambling to build a new site and archive the old one before that happens. I'll be keeping regular readers and old friends updated on the process as we go along. Feel free to skip these if you want—it's just nuts 'n' bolts housekeeping, if that's not mixing metaphors. This is hopefully temporary, just for the month of September. Come back on October 1 and see how we did! —Mike 

After failing to export TOP using its own export feature, and failing to make a fully usable backup with either Sitesucker or Sitefetcher, I'm resorting to backing up the entire site manually. TypePad creates a file of all posts for any specific month, as you can see under the header "ARCHIVES" at the bottom of the right-hand sidebar when you look at the full site on a desktop. If I open one of these in Safari, and go to File > Save as...  with a destination folder and "Format: Web Archive" set in the dialog box, I can create a copy of that month's archive that will open in Safari even when I'm offline. Unfortunately, although it preserves all Featured Comments, the other comments from the main comments section are missing, as are the larger versions of the pictures and illustrations. 

If I do the same thing in Firefox (in Firefox you go to hamburger stack > Save page as... and then set a destination folder and select "Format: Web page complete") it preserves a copy of the archive web page that will open in the Firefox browser offline, but Firefox also preserves a second folder with all the larger JPEGs in it. So that's good. But still, the full comments sections are lost. 

I'm pretty happy I've been doing the Featured Comments all these years. Those will be preserved. I sure hate to lose all the other comments, though. There are some very useful things in amongst 'em.

If I go to one single post and save that web page in this way, then all the comments in addition to the Featured Comments are preserved. But while I can save all the monthly compilations with maybe half a day's or a day's work, it's too much work to save all the posts individually—there are 9,369 TOP posts on TypePad. Even if I could put in the time, I know myself, and I know I'm not good at repetitive detail work. As I get progressively more bored and distracted my efficiency and effectiveness deteriorate and I start making mistakes. I'm not the person for such a job. (I should have been doing it all along, but, well, I didn't.)

The saved files open, as I've said, when I'm offline, but they open from within the browser they were saved with. I'm not exactly sure why or how that's the case. But it occurs to me that some future change to the browser could make it so that my archived backups won't open any more. I don't know how to guard against that. I'm thinking I should probably save all the monthly archive compilations in both Safari and Firefox, just to hedge against either one of the browsers breaking the old files sometime in the future. I'm also going to pursue the permissions that would allow Sitefetcher to work (there's a list of troubleshooting steps but I don't understand any of it myself. Maybe I can find somebody to help).

So that's where I am on backups.

As far as hiring a developer, I've interviewed three outfits (unclear whether they are individuals or companies with multiple people) on freelancer com. Most of the freelancers there appear to be based in the Indian subcontinent. They typically quote low hourly rates ($15–$25) but then estimate high numbers of hours to build a Wordpress.org blog site (60–80 hours). I'm feeling like the blind man exploring the elephant when it comes to hiring a developer—I don't know the landscape at all. Plus, I keep waffling between Wordpress and Squarespace, which isn't helping. This is not going to be the month to be indecisive, Mike, I say to myself. Probably not the time to try to cheap out, either. Wouldn't you know this would happen right after I bought a new-to-me car for the first time in 11 years...had I known this was coming, I would have held off on the car. Same thing happened to me with the mono camera, as some people might remember. But you know what they say: Oh well.

More updates as we go forward...feel free to skip these if you want! But on the other hand, comments sure are welcome. They let me feel less alone if nothing else. It's not always easy being a one-man band. 

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Ray Giubilo's Fantastic Freaky Capture

31 August 2025 at 15:21

Ray Giubilo is an Australian-Italian sports photographer (born in Adelaide, Australia, moved to Italy when he was seven, moved back to Australia in his mid-20s and opened his first photography studio, in Sydney, in 1987. Here's Ray). Yonex is a maker of tennis racquets. Jasmine Paolini is an Italian tennis star who was a finalist at both the French and Wimbledon last year and is currently ranked world No. 8. All you need to know is that Yonex's symbol is two circles and two triangles, and when Yonex strings Jasmine's racquets they color the strings except for the circle and triangle shapes. And look what happened to Ray....

Freaky. 

Following the publication of the shot (taken with a Nikon), according to The Guardian, Jasmine was on the court for a second-round match. Ray thought she was going over to hug her coach at one point, but she came over to him, gave him a high five and a grin and said, "great shot."

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Received — 30 August 2025 The Online Photographer

What Features Would You Like to See on a New TOP?

29 August 2025 at 23:22

I know I have asked this question before, but it's been a few years and I can't find it. Anything you want to see? Now's the time to say something, for sure. 

I'm very energized by this morning's work. I ran my plans past my friend Gordon, and he had some valuable input. My next task is twofold: 1.) to set a schedule for completion of the various stages toward completion, and 2.) to come up with a list of features I want on the new blog, divided into "must have" and "nice to have" categories. (One of Gordon's ideas.) 

I chose a theme based on the way it handles pictures. I think you'll really like this. By clicking on a picture in a post you will first see it enlarged but uncropped on a non-distracting background, and then if the file is larger you'll be able to zoom in to the limits of the file size. That means I can finally meaningfully present artwork as well as illustrations. Moderated commenting is of course a must-have. Another of Gordon's ideas is that we won't port over all of the old blog; we will have an archive section for old posts from the last 17 years on TypePad*, but these will be a curated and limited selection. And they'll be indexed, by category, title, and date. I also know people want a reliable and robust RSS feed. Naturally the new site will be responsive, as Mike catches up to 2012 with a whooosh

I'm on the verge of hiring a developer, a decision which should be reached by tonight (four days ahead of the timetable).

Let me hear from you! 

Mike

*And maybe even a few of my old posts from the first two years on Blogger, columns from Black & White Photography and Darkroom User magazines in the UK, editorials from Photo Techniques, and ancient articles from Camera & Darkroom née Darkroom Photography where I got my start...before it was owned by Larry Flynt! Maybe even a few articles from my student days in Washington D.C., like my notorious article about Richard Avedon. Hey, I was young.

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Received — 28 August 2025 The Online Photographer

The Online Photographer Will Be Relaunching (Blog Note)

28 August 2025 at 23:03

This is a pretty major announcement. Existential, possibly, even, for this site. 

It's time for another reset. The Online Photographer has been on TypePad since 2007, and on the Web since November 2005. Unfortunately, we will not quite celebrate our 20th anniversary here: TypePad announced yesterday that it is closing down at the end of September and that all content will be removed from the Web. Including all of TOP. For me, it's a lot of content and not much time. Jeez.

So I'm starting by making fresh backups of everything and will immediately begin the task of building anew on a different service. Whether I can export the old content over or not is something I do not know. They certainly didn't give us a lot of notice...at least not specifically; the handwriting has been on the wall for a while now. I probably should have done something by now, but, you know, hindsight is 20/20. (Ironically, 2020 is when I should have done something. Let's move on.)

I'm leaning toward relaunching on SquareSpace (or perhaps Hostinger or Wix)* and am now actively looking for professional help with that. I would welcome your comments! Not something I know much about.

Does anyone know a good SquareSpace or Wix site designer who might be available, um, soon? I've tried and failed to build my own SquareSpace site in the past. 

Dangerous pivot point? 
This is a "dangerous opportunity," as John F. Kennedy used to say in his speeches. He said it was the translation for "crisis" from the Chinese. I'm told that's not quite correct. The Chinese word for crisis is wēijī (危机), the first character (wēi, 危) meaning danger and the second (, 机) meaning a turning point or inflection point.

But it's time. Maybe this will be good for me. This old site had gotten clunky, ineffective, and kind of fusty—it's not responsive, and there's zero SEO. Basic functions have been deteriorating. For one thing, simply loading illustrations on to the site has gotten extremely problematic and frustrating in recent months, soaking up a lot of time and leading to regular frustration.

Can't say I'm happy with the short notice—awkward time for this to happen, since I'm also in the run-up to a medical operation with a long recuperation period—but maybe we'll be okay.

Any advice, information, opinions or thoughts?

—Mike, the mostly incompetent TOP IT guy

*I've made multiple attempts to come up to speed with WordPress and it's just too complicated for me. I'm an "old dog" in the Learning Tricks Dept. The simpler this can be, the better. Also, I know a lot of people like the idea of Substack, but affiliate links can't be used in emails, so I'm leery of launching on anything that's basically an email newsletter. I'd like to continue as a classic, plain, old-style free blog.

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Received — 27 August 2025 The Online Photographer

The Thing I Miss Most About the Film Era

27 August 2025 at 14:36

...It's that portraits have more or less gone away. At least in my little corner of existence. Portraits used to be a mainstream thing—understood even by the general public as one of the basic purposes of photography, a major category of subject matter, the subject of books and exhibitions, and something that photographers big and little could sell and that normal people routinely hired photographers to do for them.  

It used to be that if you offered to do a portrait for free, it was welcomed as something of value. Now if I offer to do a portrait for free it's more often looked upon with puzzlement, if not something less welcome, as if to say, "Why would I need you for a portrait?" If you ask an acquaintance or a stranger to pose or model for you, young women (if you're a man) as often as not assume you're being lecherous and parents of children are as apt as not to view you with suspicion. (Maybe part of the difference is that I used to be a handsome athletic young man and now I'm an older man. Another part of the problem is that I'm an introvert and have difficulty putting people at ease, although I'm certainly not averse to engaging strangers in conversation.)

There might be another factor that hasn't changed since the old days but might have gotten worse—people are worried about how they'll look. It's not like this is new; people were shy and reticent about having their picture taken the whole time I've been doing it. But with today's pitilessly sharp lenses and resolution that's greater than that of the human eye, sometimes it's like a photo of yourself was calculated to make you look as bad as possible. People are leery. And have grown more so IMO. 

(I'm especially amused when gearheads online ask the question "what's the best portrait lens?" and everyone proceeds to discuss the sharpest, most corrected lenses. Hmm. They haven't looked at a sufficient amount of successful and beautiful portraits from the past. Sometimes extreme sharpness works in a portrait—Karsh, for example—but more often it's a liability. During the peak era of photographic portraiture, photographers fanatically sought out lenses and techniques that gave just the right degree and type of softness.)

Lucy-1

This is my great-aunt Christine Love Johnston, my father's father's sister, who died (like a rock star) at age 27 in 1922. We don't know why or how; her story is now lost as far as I know. Note the balanced and well-judge unsharpness—that was by design, not because of technology limitations at the time. She would have gone to a photographer's studio and commissioned this portrait, or her mother Lucy did. The photographer would have been a portrait specialist or at least a photographer who did portraits often. It had to have been taken in the nineteen-teens or early '20s. She would have dressed nicely—note her beautiful hair—and he would have had a studio setup all worked out. Such a portrait might have been a middle-class or better convention, but it was certainly a common thing to have done then.

And it wasn't only photographs. My grandfather had his portrait painted. When I was young I sat for an artist who made a portrait of me in pastels. Now lost.

Portraits—photographic ones—were something I was good at and liked doing. At the peak of my photo business I got $675 for a sitting and $100 per print, and that was in the late 1980s and early '90s—get out your inflation calculator! Good money for a schlub. I still do a portrait from time to time, and I can't say I work hard at figuring out how to do more. But when I do occasionally try, it usually falls flat. These days, people take their own portraits. Selfies. They also see lots of pictures of themselves taken by others and all they have to do in that case is say, "I like that one! Can you send me that?" Done. Maybe it wouldn't make a print, but who needs prints? Family albums aren't made of paper any more. 

I'm not saying all this is bad. More people than ever are taking pictures of their kids and loved ones and having fun with it and often doing quite well at it, too. Look at the title of the post again...the thing I miss. The way it was is just something I miss, is all. 

Niches
I wonder what it's like for portrait "collectors." By that I mean photographers who deliberately set out to make a body of work of portraits of people who are eminent, interesting, or accomplished in some way, in general or in some specific field. That's one little particular niche of photographing. Recently, most people who do that try to create an archive of "celebrities," which has a specific circumscribed meaning in contemporary culture, meaning mainly actors, singers and athletes—"stars." There's no real definition of "stars" but we all kind of know who is and who isn't. That's only a subset of prominent people, of course. Any of the great portrait photographers you might name have a certain sort of person they sought out to photograph—rock stars, the rich, politicians, scientists. Photojournalists might accrue a body of portraits of people who do something newsworthy. One subset-within-a-subset I've always been interested is people who photograph photographers! My friend Arnold Crane was one of those, although he's not known now. So was Bill Jay, who was always self-deprecating about his own work but who created a fine lifetime project of photographer portraits. Of course you could photograph interesting people in any field and it would be interesting to somebody. Writers, physicists, artists, socialites, dancers, inventors, tech bros, race car drivers, rock climbers. Could be anything really. Heck, Robert Bergman, one of the rare true "colorists" in my opinion, created his body of work making portraits of homeless people! Time was when a great portrait photographer might seek out someone famous and request their cooperation to make a portrait of them. It usually worked because the famous person was aware of the value of cultivating their "brand" (as the common parlance puts it), and the photographer was interested in cultivating their portfolio, so a kind of symbiosis of interests applied. Are photographers still doing that? They must be, but I don't really know. 

There's no celebrity like a niche celebrity. I recall a physics professor who went to a big international conference. He described it to us by saying it was like all the very biggest celebrities in the world were gathered in one place. All the biggest names. His excitement was off the charts. Of course they were nobody you or I would have heard of, but to him they were as famous and dazzling as Taylor Swift to a tween girl.

If you were a portrait photographer and wanted to create a body of work of some group of people or other, who would they be? What kind or type of people most interests you?

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Received — 25 August 2025 The Online Photographer

Wayward Photographer Triggers Near-Riot At U.S. Open

25 August 2025 at 14:53

Situational awareness, it's called. Yes, photographers have to be aggressive to get the shot—the stories are legion, from elbows in the press scrum to obnoxious street photographers getting in peoples' faces. But you always have to have situational awareness.

Frenchman Benjamin Bonzi, up two sets to love, was ahead in the third set and serving for the match in the first round of the United States Open Tennis Championships against Russian Daniil Medvedev. It's a tense moment; spectators need to be respectful. He nervously netted his first serve. Perhaps erroneously thinking the match was over, an as-yet unidentified photographer then ran along the edge of the playing area, where he's definitely not allowed to be, to get to a better vantage point. The Chair Umpire then said, over the P.A. system, "Wait, please. Not now! Get off the court, please." He awarded a do-over to Bonzi, allowing him to take his first serve again.

Oops

Hopefully it was the biggest "oops" of this guy's career* 

The opportunity was immediately (and predictably) seized by Medvedev, who, despite actually being a pretty thoughtful and analytical guy, has long had a reputation as a "bad boy" with a sometimes sour and dyspeptic attitude. He can get a chip on his shoulder and is occasionally not entirely in control of his emotions. (A television announcer in Sydney, Australia, humorously commented that Medvedev "has yet to be accused of being a class act.") Inciting the crowd, Medvedev immediately went over to the referee and began berating him. Egged on by Medvedev, the crowd responded with an unruly protest, repeatedly preventing Bonzi from serving. It was six minutes before play could resume. 

Medvedev then escaped the match point against him and went on to win the third set in a tiebreaker. Buoyed by surviving his close call, and with Bonzi perhaps understandably rattled by the hostility of the crowd (remember, Bonzi had done nothing wrong at all), Medvedev then dominated the fourth set 6–0 to even the match. 

It's worth noting that the referee's ruling was entirely correct and in accordance with the rules. His mistake, if anything, was that when things got out of hand he probably ought to have called in the Tournament Referee to clarify his ruling for the spectators. It would have created a delay which might have allowed him to regain control of the crowd. 

It's also worth mentioning that disrupting an opponent's momentum when the chips are down and the odds are against you is standard practice with a lot of tennis players at the highest level. Djokovic does it routinely, often discovering that he has some transient "medical issue" when oh-by-the-way things aren't going his way and he needs to disrupt his opponent's rhythm and the flow of the match. That's all that was really going on: Medvedev had an opportunity to create a distraction to get out of trouble, and he took it. Many of the top guys are detail-oriented to an apparently fanatical degree, even in matters like this, because matches and even tournaments can hang on things that outwardly appear to give them only a small edge. It's no accident that Medvedev is known for being an especially adroit strategist. His stamina and physical gifts are somewhat lacking, but  he's managed to get the most out of his talent, having been as high as No. 1 in the world. In winning his sole major, at this very tournament in 2021, he prevented Novak Djokovic from becoming only the third male player in history to win a true Grand Slam. I personally think he's going to make a great coach for some lucky player someday, if he chooses to go that route. However, he's been struggling for some time now, dropping out of the top ten and winning only one match in the majors in 2025, after winning 24 matches across all four majors in 2024.

And he lost this time, too. Benjamin Bonzi recovered and won the fifth set 6–4, claiming the match—remarkably, the third time overall and the second time this year that the otherwise little-known world No. 51 Bonzi has beaten the renowned world No. 13 Medvedev in the first round of majors. Sometimes, one player just has another's number, like when a higher-ranked football team has a losing record against one particular lower-ranked nemesis. The two players shook hands amiably after the match, too—no hard feelings; it's just gamesmanship. They both understand that. 

Of course, after the match, Medvedev childishly smashed a few of his sponsor's racquets sitting in his courtside chair. Hey, you're a grownup, now, man. (Medvedev is 29.) So grow up. 

The photographer who started the whole thing has not been identified, but the U.S. Open confirmed that he was ejected from the Bonzi-Medvedev match after the incident and had his credentials revoked for the remainder of the tournament. Always got to maintain situational awareness. 

Mike

*Ever had an "oops"? I've had a couple, but I ain't talking.

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Mike Plews: "About the first month into my TV news career I got designated local airport pool for President Ford's visit to Sioux City. I got caught up in the moment and wandered between Ford and his Secret Service detail. Did not go well, but was not ejected. Live and learn."

Adam Lanigan: "I was shooting photos for a long-running, but now dearly departed, annual local music festival. For a few years they were also bringing in a number of notable comedians as a fairly natural extension the rest of the festival, which was focused on independent artists from all over. Having really only shot live music shows, I was used to moving around the room freely to get better angles, but now I was shooting the headlining comedy show in a still small and intimate venue (~200 capacity). At one point, I moved to the rear corner and stepped up almost to stage height on some steps to get some clearer shots over the crowd—thinking that in the darkened corner and away from the bright stage lights this would not be an issue. This, unfortunately, drew the comedian's attention and I was the target for some immediate sour looks and a few barbs about being on their stage, etc. I can still feel the immediate heat and the 'Oh, what have I done?' of that moment—shifting from a being a moving ghost in the background to a full-on target in an instant. Luckily this was only locally embarrassing rather than internationally, but definitely that same situational awareness issue and lack of understanding of the rules of engagement."

Edward Taylor: "As a young newspaper photojournalist, I was photographing a US Senate hearing with my trusty Canon F1, and apparently the shutter was making too much noise. The chairman of the hearing stopped the proceedings and asked me to take fewer shots. Prior to that day, I had prided myself on my stealthy approach to news gathering. The feeling of being singled out in that chamber has always stuck with me, and it changed my future behavior as well."

Alex Buisse: "I shot tennis at the Rio Olympics, and there were very specific and strict rules about where you could shoot from, and when you could move. The photographer has been identified and said that he was assured by security that it was OK to move at this particular time. Shooting a first round of a major tournament has insanely complicated logistics, requiring to rush from match to match hoping to capture the important moments, especially the upsets, so it would be very understandable that the photographer wouldn’t have known what was going on and relied on security to see if it was OK to move. All in all, I am far from convinced that he did anything wrong!"

Mike replies: Others have opined elsewhere that Medvedev should have been penalized the point for raising such a ruckus over it. At the very least, the photographer must have found it excruciating that his mild faux pas was blown up into such an intense and extended diversion from the game. 

Received — 24 August 2025 The Online Photographer

Open Mike: The Midnight Ride (OT)

23 August 2025 at 21:19

I've been battling a marauder. He eluded all my traps and forced me to consider lethal force. 

Before I get into that, a few notes about animal life this year at TOP Rural World Headquarters, a.k.a. my little farmhouse in the Finger Lakes.

For the first time in years, I had no robins. I did finally take down the robin high-rise on top of the lamp at the corner of the house in back—they had built it up year after year until they could barely get in under the soffits. It was seven inches high by the time of demolition. I tried to make up for the lost housing infrastructure by commissioning two beautiful robin shelves from 13-year-old Anthony Sensenig, son of my woodworker friend Andrew. He did a nice job, but we made a tactical error and varnished them—the birds like untreated wood better, I later learned. I located them, as the birds prefer, on north- and east-facing walls. But of course they didn't touch them. Too new and unfamiliar. I certainly saw a lot of robin mating activity going on during the Springtime, but where were they nesting? Not around the house. 

But I did have a pair of doves for the first time. Maybe two pairs, I was never sure. One of the doves seemed to settle into the gutter, which showed poor foresight. Actually I shouldn't judge; I don't know bird culture. Maybe gutters are a high-prestige address for doves.

Heading to the pool-table shed one night after dark, I startled a snake, and he startled me—I almost stepped on him in fact. It was a garter snake, which are common around here. Between two and three feet long. I tossed a few pebbles at him and he vamoosed. I'm just as happy I didn't step on him—they're not poisonous but are known to bite anyway, and I wouldn't have liked getting bitten by any sort of snake. I've been looking out for them on the boardwalk ever since.

As regular readers know, the premises sadly became dogless in early June. I'm still mourning for my dear Butters, but I'm getting used to life without him. Every time I think of him I try to think of something good and of how grateful I am for his company all those years. It tamps down the sadness to approach it that way.

Happy family
Then, finally, very late in the season, a robin couple moved in. The female is small. Why did she start so late, and miss the first nesting cycles in the Springtime and early Summer? I don't know enough about robins to know. She built her nest under the pavilion from scratch in mid to late July, and she did a nice, neat job, too—it's a sturdy, well-crafted nest. Not like the family I had in nearly the same place last year, whose nest was so poorly made it kept falling off the beam or being blown apart by the wind (one of their children was the robin who wouldn't leave the nest). Maybe there wasn't enough mud that year; I won't judge. Anyway, the new couple are model parents. The male hangs around. The two of them got used to me quickly, because I put food out for them regularly and announce my presence when I go by. They never give the "warning call" on my account, or seem to get upset about my presence, even when I come under the pavilion close to the nest. They have three healthy nestlings, who I expect will leave the nest any time now. 

 

But back to the marauder. I occasionally get deer mice in the basement. They get in but can't get out, so over the years I've found eight or ten dried, mummified remains of mice in corners or between old paint cans or boxes. But once, a few years ago, one of them was smart enough to figure out a route up to the kitchen. I use a sort of mousetrap that is supposed to be adaptable to live trapping or kill trapping; it's a 5-gallon bucket with a Planky-Pro and a bit of peanut butter on the end of the plank. Put shavings in the bucket, and you can live trap; three inches of water in the bucket makes it a kill trap—they fall in and drown. My first kitchen marauder was a clever, resourceful mouse—he not only figured out how to raid the kitchen, but after I caught him and threw him behind the woodpile he found his way back into the house again (they do that) and reappeared in the kitchen. I knew it was him because he used the exact same strategies in trying to elude me when I was chasing him. I considered live-trapping, but it was the middle of Winter and bitter cold; if I had released him far from any building in a snow-covered field he probably would have died anyway. So I resorted to kill trapping. That's when I got the Planky-Pro. I didn't like to do it...it offended my sense of justice. He was an exceptional mouse, smart, strong, and resourceful, and he didn't deserved to be un-alived by me. But he was in my kitchen, eating my food and sh*tting on my counters, and sympathy for animals has sensible limits. 

But this time, I thought, I can live trap, because it's Summer, and merely relocating the new clever mouse would still give him a fighting chance at life. So I tried putting shavings in the bucket. Mysteriously, it didn't work—twice, I came down to find the peanut butter licked clean but no mouse in the bucket. The only explanation was that he was being trapped, but was strong enough to jump out of the bucket. Most mice aren't. 

I realized I was probably going to have to replace the shavings with water and make it into a kill trap. But I was uncomfortable with the idea so I did what I usually do in such situations...I procrastinated.

Cheeky bugger
Then I had a bright idea. I get those sometimes. What I could do was put only an inch of water in the bucket. Ever tried to jump out of the shallow end of a pool to a seated position on the pool's edge? Jumping out of shallow water impedes you just that little bit. In an inch of water, he wouldn't drown, but it would probably make it so he couldn't jump out of the bucket. 

It worked in only a couple of hours. He raided the kitchen while I was in the adjacent office, awake and working! Cheeky little bugger. It was midnight. I taped a lid on the bucket, loaded it in the car, and off we went. I drove five miles into the hills, stopped in a remote location by a stand of woods, and set the little guy free. A mouse's heart beats at 450 to 750 beats a minute (oddly, many creatures get about the same number of heartbeats in a lifetime—our lifetime's allotment is roughly the same as a short-lived mouse's or a long-lived tortoise's), and his must have been higher because of fear. When I let him go he quickly burrowed under the thick grasses and stayed motionless, doubtless hoping I'd go away. 

I did.

Free the mouse copy

He doesn't realize he's about to go free

The project took half an hour in the middle of the night. Which is, okay, stupid. But I didn't mind. This way, the mouse doesn't get sentenced to death for being smarter, stronger, and more resourceful than other mice. He gets a chance to live his life. Or, he becomes a quick snack for an owl or another sort of raptor, or a fox, weasel, or, yes, snake. And there's nothing wrong with that. Then, his fate is a mouse's fate; he wasn't born to be the prey of me.

Ferocious fight
The last animal happening I'll tell you about was dramatic. I came into the kitchen and saw a large spider in a web just outside the big plate-glass window. It had trapped a wasp, who was half encased in webbing, but the two of them were energetically engaged in an epic fight. The spider was trying to entomb the wasp in more webbing material and the wasp was not giving up—he kept trying to maneuver his stinger into position to get at the spider, and he kept managing to free it of the webbing. The spider fought while trying to keep clear of the stinger. I watched for a while, fascinated, then ran to get my phone (my phone is always in the other room no matter which room I am in). I managed to record them in focus for quite a few seconds.

A few hours later, they were both still locked in a close embrace, but both were utterly motionless. They were the same way the next day. So unless I'm wrong, and I could be, I think it was a battle to the death—I think both insect warriors died in the titanic fight.

I'd show you the video, but I submitted it to "Daily Dose of Internet." Do you know those? If you happen to see it there, let me know. Even if I watch for it, chances are I'll miss it.

I hope it makes the cut. It's been a long time since I was published.

Life goes on,

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Ed Hawco: "Thousands of years from now, when intelligent mice rule the world, the Rodentia geneticists will trace their lineage back to 'Finger Lakes Freddie,' who was spared an early death by a stick-carrying primate who captured him in a bucket and then set him free. A monument will be raised to this primate, who was unaware that this one kind act was the turning point that marked the decline of the Anthropocene and the beginning of the Apodemocene."

Chris Kern: "Re: 'The project took half an hour in the middle of the night ... But I didn't mind. This way, the mouse doesn't get sentenced to death for being smarter, stronger, and more resourceful than other mice. He gets a chance to live his life.' Don’t look now, but you have just made a contribution to deer mouse evolution. If this particular creature survives and breeds, we all may soon be contending with pole-vaulting or trampoline-toting murine escape artists. Let’s just hope they don’t discover AI. My recommendation: save the birds, not the mice."

Mike replies: Chris, meet Ed. Ed, Chris.

James Bullard: "Any live trapped animal has to be taken twice their range for release to ensure that they don't return. In the case of a mouse that is three miles away. You went farther than necessary.

"That said, it is illegal to relocate nuisance animals in New York (and several other states), leaving killing them as your only legal option. Or at least not publicly posting your actions. The logic, I am told, is the relocation is cruel, and 90% of relocated animals don't survive. I am puzzled how they could possibly know that. Is DEC taking animal censuses? The other puzzle to me is that DEC relocates nuisance bears. I'm not sure how they rationalize that."

Mike replies: But...he's only a nuisance when he's in my kitchen, eating my banana, right? (Seriously, he ate a banana.) When he's out in a field or the woods, he's just a mouse.

Amine Sultan: "Get a cat or, better yet, cats, but ones that love to hunt (usually females but not exclusively). Cats that hunt will do so even when they are well-fed. Some cats live in perfect harmony with mice or birds under a roof or even outside. Oh, and breed also matters: Abyssinians, for example, love to hunt and, in every other way, are like dogs—they adore their owners. In any case, the cat is a writer's best friend; there's no shortage of examples."

ColinC: "Enjoyed the post, as usual. For what it's worth, though, spiders aren't insects—spiders class Arachnida, insects class Insecta. They are however both in the phylum Arthropoda (jointed-feet), as are for example crustaceans like crabs and lobsters. There are many differences between spiders and insects, the most obvious perhaps that spiders have eight legs, and insects only six."

ASW: "As a biologist, I feel obligated to respond to a few things.

"Forest fire—while birds and a few larger mammals (e.g., deer) might be able to move away from a fire, the vast majority of creatures, whether we're talking about amphibians, arthropods, insects, mammals, or reptiles, simply can't. Instead they seek refuge in moist/muddy areas (e.g., amphibians), in vegetation (e.g., arthropods and insects; often a poor choice), or underground (pretty much anybody who can find a hole or rock to get underneath). Some make it but many don't.

"Cats—while they make wonderful companions and can be a useful pest deterrent inside your house, I would discourage anyone from letting cats roam outdoors. They are a plague on vulnerable wildlife (which is basically anything they can get their claws or teeth into), and certainly don't live 'in perfect harmony' with mice and birds.

"Survival of relocated animals—I can't quote an exact number for small mammals without doing further research, but the very high mortality rate is based on actual research. Small mammals are generally quite territorial. They survive by knowing where their food is and more importantly where their shelter is. When dropped into a new location they are very vulnerable to predation until they get the lay of the land, not to mention competitive exclusion (up to and including full-on fighting) with the current residents of the neighborhood you have brought them to.

"'Field' mice—I assume you're using a local name here, as the common name 'field mouse' generally refers to one of several species of the genus Apodemus found in Europe and Asia. Based on your description and what I can glean from your picture, my guess is that you caught a member of the genus Peromyscus, most likely the deer mouse (P. maniculatus) or white-footed mouse (P. leucopus). They are both wonderful mice, although perhaps not when you're fighting them for your bananas."

Mike replies: I love it when a post elicits comments from expert. Thanks for this. I changed "field mouse" to "deer mouse" in the post. I'm disappointed that relocation is most likely futile, but, really, I did have to get him out of the kitchen.

Received — 21 August 2025 The Online Photographer

Editing By Magic

21 August 2025 at 20:35

Ed. note: This post is a prehistoric bug entombed in amber. It dates from my 35mm Tri-X days. I'm re-posting it here because of a kind mention that my friend Oren came across, by Derek Martin of Roberts Photo Lab in Indianapolis, who gave it a shout-out in a mass mailing. That was nice of him. I've edited it here to shorten it. Oh, and, in this, "workprint" is both noun and verb, "workprinting" a verb, specifying a quick-and-dirty enlarged proof print that was a stage in the process between shooting and final fine prints. "Fine prints" were the finished product, as good as you could make. Thanks to both Derek and Oren.   

-

One thing about editing. I've been taking golf lessons recently for the first time in my life (it's never too late for golf; it is too late for platform diving), and one thing my pro keeps saying is "make it yours." That is, he wants me to work out things for myself. And of course, each of us needs to "make our own" a great many facets of our pursuit / passion / profession / hobby / diversion of photography, starting with how serious we're going to be about it and what our aims are. Lots of people have developed their own methods of editing. Which of course doesn't mean that it still might not help to talk about it.

In figuring out your editing methods, the important thing is to work out a method and then follow the method through. That's not the same as saying, "use the software I use, follow my method slavishly." Sorry about this overlong preamble, but I wanted to point out that I'm not a guru. My way is not the right way. So don't take what I'm about to tell you as gospel; don't even take it as a recommendation, except if you want to. I'm not trying to tell you the "right" way to do things. Even if I believed there was such a thing, which I don't.

I'm going somewhere with this...
Anyway, back when I had my chops up, here's how I worked. I developed either one or two tanks of film (three rolls of 35 exposures* each per tank) once every few nights. (Less in winter, more in summer.) I'd hang the film in the closet to dry, clip it and put it into PrintFile pages the next morning (this was my most hated photographic chore, by the way), then, when darkness fell, I'd make proof sheets. (My darkrooms, always crude affairs, were almost never light-tight enough to use when the sun was out.)

In looking at the proof sheets, I had a couple of rules for myself. First, I had to loupe every frame. Second, I had to mark between one and six pictures per roll. It didn't matter if it was the stupidest, ugliest roll of useless pictures I'd ever taken, I had to find at least one frame to workprint. And I strongly resisted making workprints of more than six frames per roll. Oh, of course if I really, really had to see that seventh or eighth frame, I'd do it; but the reason for the six-frames rule was that if I marked 20 frames or 25 frames on every roll, it would be too much work to workprint (and too expensive), and I'd procrastinate and never get to it. So I had a method: every frame that interested me under the loupe first got a single cross mark in the corner; if there were more than six, I had to winnow them down to six, then I would put a second cross-mark, making an "X", on the ones to be workprinted.

Do you see that those "rules" were just an effort to cope with my particular psychology, my personal weaknesses? I didn't want to be tempted to throw a roll aside just because there wasn't much good on it; I knew I'd miss some good frames that way. I had to force myself to deal with every roll when workprinting. And I didn't want to trigger my tendency to procrastinate. These are my own personal solutions to my own personal idiosyncrasies. They have no more significance than that.

I was an effing ninja at workprinting. I could make twenty prints in an hour just cruising; thirty to forty an hour if I was trying. After years in the darkroom, I had no trouble looking at the neg against the safelight and setting the time and contrast to "good enough" with nothing more than a glance. Most of my workprints look pretty good, too, if I do say so myself.

Workprints

Workprints. I made a gazillion of these over the years. No exaggeration**.

So here's the thing I started out to say: I have to have prints in order to edit.

And here's where the magic comes in. If I took, say, fifteen of those 8x10 workprints and taped them all up on the wall, they would all look more or less the same to me at first. And I'd look at them. Then I'd look at them some more. And some more. Gradually, I would start to get interested in a few of them more than others, and some would begin to drop into the don't-care category. And this is the mystery: after about three or four days of looking at a batch of workprints, chances are I would love two or three of them and not care at all about the rest. 

How did this happen? I really have no idea. Still don't, to this day.

But I could depend on it.

I finally decided that it was just not entirely conscious. It's not like I was "deciding" which pictures were "good" and which weren't; it's just that some of them had that "it," whatever it is that I personally happen to find gratifying about photographs, and the others didn't. 

There have been all kinds of things I've learned about myself along the way. For one thing, "good" pictures—the solid, good-looking, pictures-that-look-like-everybody-else's-good-pictures pictures—seldom made it for me. And, the things I liked were often quiet, sometimes too quiet for others.

I sometimes liked failures, too...pictures that were intriguing for some reason but...well, bad. I had a separate category (and box!) for these, called "significant failures."

Sometimes I'd put 20 prints up and, after three days, it had become obvious that none of them were any good. That was always dispiriting, but it wasn't all that unusual.

So what accounts for that magical "sorting" process that almost always occurred half a week or so after I slapped a bunch of seemingly identical-quality workprints up on the wall and just looked and looked and looked? I just don't know. I only know that it was the way my brain worked when it came to photographs. 

Paper is wealth
The end of the process was that when I could spare the time and the money (paper was wealth, for most of my adult life; I almost never had enough paper) I would go into the darkroom and make a fine (finished) print from the negative. I always had a reputation as a fine printer—it was how I made a good bit of my living for a good long stretch, and I'm happy to say that some prints made by me reside in some very prestigious museums and collections—but I never enjoyed this part quite as much. It was too final, and few fine prints were fine enough, if you get my drift. I probably only made "finished" fine prints out of, I don't know, maybe a third of my sorted "selects." In a sense, there was no reason to—I didn't have shows, and nobody bought them. I was just doing it because I liked it. (Same reason you play golf. Who cares except you?) But workprinting for me was the center around which everything else revolved. I loved seeing what the negatives looked like, and I loved anticipating the magic "editing" process that would follow. 

I can't do the same thing on the computer screen. I have no good method there. That's not a value judgment, not an anti-digital comment. It's just a fact. I need prints on the wall. I need to be able to do lots of looking. It's just the way I am.

We're all different. You've got to make it yours.

Mike

[Originally posted October 8th, 2009. I haven't played
golf since right around that time!
]

*Only 35 frames fit on the kind of PrintFile sheet I used, so that's how many pictures I shot on a roll, never 36.

**Well, slight exaggeration.

Original contents copyright 2009 and 2025 by Michael C. Johnston. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

     

Related Stories

 
Received — 20 August 2025 The Online Photographer

The Killip Conundrum

20 August 2025 at 18:19

I meant to do more reading up on Chris Killip, who we mentioned last week, but I'm in a mindflurry of all-EV-all-the-time and I haven't gotten around to it. 

As I understand it, though, he was a Manxman, i.e., born on the Isle of Man, in the Irish Sea, and, for starters, couldn't get away from there fast enough. He moved to London. But when he quit commercial photography to concentrate on his own work, he went back—his first book, 11 years later, was Isle of Man: A Book about the Manx. Then, when he was afforded a variety of opportunities to photograph the Northeast of England, he moved to Tyneside, which is a built-up area on the river Tyne, approximately here:

Tyneside

You know, Hebburn, Jarrow, Houghton-le-Spring, Chester-le-Street, Blydon, Ryton, Longbenton, Cleadon, Throckley, in there. :-)

His masterpiece, In Flagrante, was published in 1988 from all the work he did in the Northeast of England. Then, three years later, he really bugged out: moved to the USA. He was appointed to a post at Harvard University, and lived in Cambridge—the one in Massachusetts—for the rest of his life. For a dozen years or so he returned, fairly regularly it would seem, to Ireland, where he produced color pictures which seem rather "postcard-like" relative to his darker, closer, more intimate, more opinionated Tyneside work. The Irish-landscape "Here Comes Everybody" pictures (from the title of the book, which was not a masterpiece) show only flashes of personality and point of view. (Although the submerged pool is an exception. It's not that the Here Comes Everybody pictures aren't good.) As far as I can tell—and like I say I haven't looked into it all that much—he never made a body of work in Cambridge, Mass., or indeed in America. 

So that's a conundrum, isn't it? He rather famously did what we would now call "embedded" himself in Tyneside, living not alongside but amongst the people. But he seems to have been more of a tourist in Ireland. The point is that in all that getting away—from the pub his parents ran in the Isle of Man, from Tyneside, from the UK—he also essentially removed himself from ready access to the subject matter that made him famous. 

It's not like this is uncommon. The opposite, actually. Most photographers' peak periods are relatively limited, because truly dedicated photography is hard—really hard—and the rewards are diffuse and typically not terribly remunerative. Weegee's Naked City period didn't actually last very long; Robert Frank's high period as a stills photographer describes a bell curve with long tails; Cartier-Bresson essentially gave up photography for the last quarter of his life. Who was it who said that artists tend to have a peak period of no more than ten years, although truly great artists might have two or even three such periods?

As an aside, this is rather oddly echoed in emblematic cultural periods as well. They don't last as long as we think. They're evanescent rather than enduring. The "Wild West" essentially only lasted from the end of the Civil War in 1865 till the Census Bureau (?) proclaimed the end of the American frontier in 1890. That's only 25 years. We've been making movies about it for more than four times that long. Although the mob was active before and after, the high period of the classic 1930s Midwestern gangsters—John Dillinger, Pretty Boy Floyd, Bonnie and Clyde—lasted virtually only two years. The peak of the railroads was maybe 20 years, from 1890 to 1910. From the time the Beatles came to America till they broke up was only about six years. The average NFL career is 3.3 years. In all such things we tend to assume that "the way it was" lasted longer and was more enduring than it really tends to be. We pay more attention to the outliers, the high points, the "iconic" accomplishments, the most vivid characters. It's surprising how many photographers follow that template as well. Their careers describe an arc, and the peak—what we know them for, what we remember—is often not long. 

Back on track, though—Chris Killip seems to be symbolic of a peculiar problem for photographers, which is that we need access to our subject matter. Ansel Adams traveled back and forth to Yosemite from San Francisco, and as he got older he did less mountain climbing and more darkroom work. Sally Mann's kids grew up. Great bodies of work are often, in effect, "moments," short periods of time in which everything comes together: the right subject, the right artist at the right time in her own development, the right cultural moment. Shakespeare's peak period lasted essentially 11 years, from 1595 to 1606. The cultural moment was ripe for it: theater was at the very apex of its popularity and importance; the average Londoner, according to Malcolm Gladwell, went to the theater three times a week. A mere 36 years later, in 1642, Oliver Cromwell banned the theater as being sinful and frivolous, a ban that lasted for quite some time and even resulted in some theater buildings being torn down. What chance would Shakespeare have had in that cultural moment? 

Well, I'm not back on track yet, am I? That's the problem of writing off-the-cuff essays. Anyway, the point I am drifting toward is simply that Chris Killip, in escaping his roots and following his career, also cut himself off from what he got famous photographing. You could argue that the cultural moment for hard-hitting documentary work in black-and-white, up close and gritty, was passing as well by 1988–91, or you might argue that Killip had done what he wanted to do and didn't need to do any more. In Flagrante, considered one of the great masterpieces among British photobooks, was enough. But this is something I'm thinking about a lot as I contemplate moving back to the Midwest. I've found a subject here, and if I leave, no more Finger Lakes landscapes. I'll be effectively ending that body of work. I'm not sure that matters to anyone except me. But it matters to me. 

I haven't poked around enough to know what, if anything, Chris Killip might have commented about this conundrum in his own life and work. Surely someone asked, somewhere along the way? I hope I'll hear, someday, somehow. Probably he considered that the color Irish pictures were fine, that they were on a continuum with his earlier work, and that living in Boston wasn't an impediment. That's the way artists are. It's always about what we're doing now. 

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

      
Received — 19 August 2025 The Online Photographer

Kristine Hinrichs, Photographer of Milwaukee

19 August 2025 at 16:43

Kristine copy

Every now and then a regular TOP reader gets attention from the outside world, and I feel a totally unwarranted sense of pride and connection! This has been out for nearly a year now, and I'm just now catching up to it, thanks to my friend Barb H. Last September, Kristine Hinrichs was the subject of a feature on the statewide Spectrum News 1 in Wisconsin. The two minute feature, reported by Megan Marshall, shows her working before dawn by the lakefront. A retired city worker and former marathoner, Kristine has been sharing a PAD (photo a day) project of Milwaukee on social media for 14 years. (Here's her IG account.) She's also a longtime commenter on TOP, with 73 comments logged since 2014, many of them "Featured." Congratulations Kristine! We're proud.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Kenneth Tanaka: "Excellent profile...and excellent work, Kristine! Indeed, Milwaukee is full of lens-ready scenes and subjects. Bravo!"

John Krumm: "Love that. Amazing persistence too. I glanced at her Instagram and enjoyed the variety, with some real classic shots in there. Of course I was trying to identify her camera, being a nerd. Looks like one of the pro level OM System cameras, I think."

Kristine Hinrichs: "WOW! Thanks for the feature! Imagine my surprise seeing my own face. Approaching 5,200 days straight. This explains the sudden interest in my Instagram feed."

      

Jim and Becky's Vermont Oatmeal (OT) (A One-Paragraph Post)

19 August 2025 at 16:41

Here's an easy and quick healthy breakfast: in the evening, combine one cup of regular (not quick) organic steel-cut oats with four cups of water in a saucepan. Bring to a boil; boil for one or two minutes. Prevent boiling over by placing a wooden spoon across the top of the saucepan or blowing on the foam as it rises to get it to stop. Remove from heat, cover, and set aside overnight. In the morning, stir, rewarm (I spoon a bit into a bowl and pop it into the microwave for a minute), add toppings to taste (berries, puréed banana, granola, cinnamon (here's one that's tested for heavy metals), even honey or Vermont maple syrup if you're not avoiding sugar). Best enjoyed on a mountainside in Vermont out on the deck on a summer morning, but tastes great and has an agreeable texture anywhere. Put the saucepan in the fridge for the next day, when it will still be just as good and even easier to fix. Regarding oats, recall Boswell's riposte: in his Life of Johnson, 1791, Chapter 14, he says, "Doctor Johnson proposed to define the word 'oats' thus: 'A grain which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland supports the people.' And I replied: 'Aye, and that’s why England has such fine horses, and Scotland such fine people.'" Oats are what T. Colin Campbell has for breakfast every morning, and if they're good enough for him and horses, they're good enough for me.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Clayton: "Oats have been used as a cure for diabetics for more than a century. I prefer mine uncooked—just let them soak in soy milk. Apple juice works as well. If in a hurry I blend them with berries, spices, etc."

Richard Tugwell: "As a Scot, I'm always amazed when oats are (re)discovered as a new superfood. Cheap, easy to cook and with many nutritional benefits. I just soak them overnight with some milk, or milk substitute or even water. In the morning I eat them with whatever I have around—berrries, bananas, nuts or seeds, and often with a spoonful of natural yogurt, or honey, or even cream! Or I just make traditional porridge in the morning, this time just with water and salt. Add honey, cream or whatever depending on how I feel, but perfect just on its own."

Sergio Bartelsman: "Years ago I read The China Study: The Most Comprehensive Study of Nutrition Ever Conducted and the Startling Implications for Diet, Weight Loss, and Long-Term Health by T. Colin Campbell. A very good book on nutrition that helped me recover my health. A very fine read."

ASW: "According to Google, 1 cup of steel-cut oats has approximately 600 calories. Even if you add 200–400 calories to the mix via nuts, berries, or some type of milk, how the heck are you folks making that last for multiple (or a week of) breakfasts?"

Mike replies: It last 3–4 mornings for me. And of course you're still allowed to eat other things too. Tomorrow I'll be having a cantaloupe along with my oatmeal—Raymond's cantaloupes have just appeared in his roadside stand for the first time this year. He grows the best cantaloupes in the area. I think the one I have is about ripe.

Frank: "Oats have a high glycemic index if that is important."

Pete D replies to Frank: "Since I like a bowl of cold overnight oats with blueberries several times a week I decided to check what glycemic index actually means and all the lists I saw rated oats as being at the high end of the lower glycemic index category."

Mike adds: I asked Google "what is the glycemic load of steel-cut (Irish) oats?" and got this: "The glycemic load (GL) of steel-cut oats is typically low to medium, with the exact value depending on the serving size and carbohydrate content. The Glycemic Index (GI) of steel-cut oats is generally in the range of 42–58, which is considered low to medium."

One Kind of Person EVs Are Good For (OT) (A One-Paragraph Post)

19 August 2025 at 16:41

This one-paragraph post is about my current subject of non-photographic interest. If you ain't into it, skip it!

I'll tell you one sort of person EVs are good for: Those who love keeping records, calculating numbers, tracking percentages and mileages and states of charge, planning ahead, organizing, optimizing, devising systems, making charts 'n' graphs, sticking to a calendar, staying on top of protocols, learning and understanding things at a little deeper level, et cetera. You don't have to do any of those things, and there are plenty of other reasons to like EVs, but some people love that sort of thing. And are good at it: they have the gene, the skills, the aptitudes. I encounter them in photography. An EV would be satisfying for those folks, is my guess.

That is all,

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Luke: "I got over all that real quick. Just plug in every few days and never even think about 'gas mileage' again."

The One Way I Lose Weight (OT) (A One-Paragraph Post)

19 August 2025 at 16:40

I've had a much harder time controlling my weight since I got my pacemaker, no idea why. Of course, despite the title of this post, there isn't just one way to lose weight. I counted, and there are 88,461 ways to lose weight documented on the internet and in books. (I'm kidding, I didn't count: if I had, I might've seen that there are more than that.) But after dozens and dozens of experiments using myself as the laboratory rat, here's the only thing that works on me: to stop eating every day at a predetermined time in the afternoon or early evening. Three o'clock, four o'clock, five o'clock. Even six o'clock although that's kinda late. Then, the next morning, I hold off eating for as long as I'm not really hungry. (Most people aren't hungry after waking; try starting with tea or coffee but without milk or cream or any fake-dairy additive.) Of course, it helps if, during the day, I eat slowly, sparingly, and at defined mealtimes, and strive to avoid salt/sugar/fat as much as practicable. Takes a few days to get used to. That's it; this is the only thing that has ever worked for me. You'll have to try it to see if it works for you.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Jayanand Govindaraj: "What you describe is called intermittent fasting. I have been practicing this for 10 years now, but mainly for blood sugar control—though weight loss has been a byproduct. I also do OMAD (One Meal A Day, i.e. fasting for 24 hours) at least once a week. In my experience over the last decade,these fasting techniques work perfectly with an LCHF/Keto diet to deliver real overall benefits for general health and well-being. In my case, after being on diabetic medication for 20 years, I stopped all medication within nine months of starting the diet/fasting combo, and have maintained an HBA1C in the range of 5.75 to 6.5 since 2016. Beware, it requires real willpower to maintain!"

Received — 17 August 2025 The Online Photographer

Open Mike: No New iPhone?

17 August 2025 at 18:29

["Open Mike" is the weekly Editorial page of the vertical magazine that is TOP. In it, we dip a toe into the filtered-but-not-very mind of Mike.]

-

1907 EV copy-2

The significance of this is explained eventually
herein. Read on. Photo by Georg Sander.

I'm actually thinking, actually really thinking, of not getting another iPhone. 

I've recently given some longtime e-friends who know my predilections and peccadilloes—longtime readers, that is—maybe including you—a bit of a surprise: I moved on from ICE cars. Decisively, like Ctein moved to digital and struck his darkroom. No more stick shift allegiance, no more Miata-is-the-answer-to-every-question, no more naturally-aspirated-engine or rear-wheel-drive oversteer purity, no more blather about exhaust notes and le pur sang and petrolhead lore, no, none o' that from here on out. I'm quite certain I'll never buy an ICE car again. I would propose a rather radical reason for this. EVs are better cars. Period and end of sentence. Throw out all the blather and disputation about cost, ecology, infrastructure, politics, efficiency, everything. All of it. EVs are better cars.

That's a big enough tech-bro sea-change right there. But not only that, I'm also thinking about...an Android phone.

Does the apocalypse approach? Do birds fly backwards in a purple sky? What about the old unshakeable never-say-die Apple allegiance, the "my-first-Mac-was-the-first-Mac," the cozy fishbowl of the integrated Apple ecosystem, all that? This could be a shock to your conception of Mike-ishness, and, coming so soon after my defection from internal combustion...well, I hope I'm not rocking the rowboat too much.

Skip three
I have an iPhone 13 Pro. It's been fine. Normally I've updated every three cycles, skipping two. But this Fall the iPhone 17 will be announced, meaning I will have skipped three cycles. Plus, my battery is getting iffy. That's because "it's that time." But for the first time, I'm not looking forward to it. I'm not dreading it, exactly, but I feel resigned rather than inwardly excited.

Here's the thing that started the snowball rolling downhill: Siri is stupid. There is no way around this. My friend Dan and I play pool most Monday mornings, and typically talk a good deal about music. Matters of mild dispute and questions of fact come up lots, and despite the fact that Dan has an old Android phone the screen of which is permanently tinted magenta, his phone aces Siri seven times out of nine when verbally asked questions. I've recently taken to asking him to ask HIS phone something instead of merely asking the same question of mine. He'll get an answer, whereas Siri won't understand the question, or will give me an amusingly nonsensical answer, or will require me to type something out...whatever. He casually asks his phone stuff that I wouldn't even attempt to ask Siri, because I know better. I'd be anticipating the usual bollix.

Apple is behind. It took me a while to wrap my mind around this if I'm honest. I accepted it only because the realization is unavoidable. 

Here are a few other things that I'm assuming, or that have been bugging me:

First, Apple will want a hella lot of money. You just know the big-screen iPhone 17 with the good camera (both of which are important to me) is going to cost way north of a grand. Apple loves to soak my wallet. They farm money—that seems to be the thing they care most about now. That was fine back when I thought I got value for it...I liked Apple, and that was the way it was. If I had to pay more for it, well, so what, then I did. I got value in self-satisfaction and seamless integration and a cool form-factor, and that was enough for me. But recently it seems like there's nothing to get excited about. It'll be just be another phone, pretty much like the last phone. Another button here, another functionality there maybe, but nothing to knock glassware off the shelves. For some reason it seems like Apple stopped innovating around the time the Pandemic started. It's just the same old products in the same old wrappers. They don't even look that good any more—the designer left the company. Or rather, they look good, but in the same old way. The CEO doesn't visit the design studio every day like Steve did; Steve loved products and Steve loved design. The new guy just sits in his ivory tower atop a giant heap of gold coins plotting how to get more. When he already has too many. Which is his business, except that he wants my gold coins. And I ain't got that many. 

Know what else Steve did? He kept thinking up ideas for new products. Some weren't such good ideas, others were great, others looked like they wouldn't succeed but did anyway. But he kept coming up with new things. What's been new lately? Yes, my current Mac Mini is the best desktop I've ever had, of my 17 or 19 Macs or whatever it is. They do iterate and improve. And the goggles (Vision Pro) are new, but they're expensive and some of the functionalities are not quite thought-through. Who wants to watch a movie alone with another person who is also watching the same movie alone? I do like the noise-cancelling headphones (AirPods Max), too. But basically it's just Macs, iMacs, iPads, iPhones and the Apple Watch, same as it ever was. (Current Not-Steve Guy does get the credit for the Apple Watch. But that was more than ten years ago—that's 70 years in device- and dog-years). 

That's an oasis ahead
Maybe I'm not making my point convincingly. But have you ever looked at all the exotica you can get in the Android phone-i-verse? Did you know there's a phone with a Leica one-inch sensor?! It has a name I can neither spell nor pronounce, Xiaomi. Did you know there's one you can fold out to make a double screen?! Did you know Google makes phones?! Who knew these things? Nobody! 

Well, I suppose somebody. 

Here comes the kicker. Old Apple, when it introduced something, actually had them to sell, or at least would very soon. New Apple announces sh*t when it's still vapory and then sits on its own thumbs. And sits. And sometimes, like the charger-pad thingy or Apple Intelligence (a "product" I do not want, would rather not have, and am not looking forward to dealing with, so I suppose that's a win???), never come out at all. They're just describing mirages in the desert air, shimmering on the horizon. Surely they can come up with it; they're Apple.

So what? Well, so Apple is promising that iPhone 17 will integrate EV route planning into Apple Maps in CarPlay. But some of Apple's promises lately are worth tears and a heap of ash. So I know I'm going to expect iPhone 17 to have route planning, and they'll say it's coming, but it will either come many moons late or never come, while I wait, wait, wilt, and grow old. But I said "kicker": the kicker is that Apple doesn't keep stuff updated. Never has, never will. Twenty-eleven Siri still lives in my pocket and gets sklonkered by Google Assistant. Aperture was great, but it was never maintained or updated until it got so wilty it had to be killed (I didn't fall for Lucy and the football on that one). I still miss WriteNow*. (I am the OG.) 

So here's what I think is going to happen. Apple will charge me $1,800 plus 8% tax for a new phone. For the phone I paid $1,100 for four years ago, they'll give me $85 in trade, unless they give me nothing. I won't be able to buy the new one outright at Verizon so that I can get the good monthly plan price—I'll have to buy it on time for three months for twice as much, on account of a certain calibrated percentage of customers will forget and keep paying the high price. They'll tell me the camera is improved but I won't be able to see any difference. Three things I already liked about the old phone will be gone, gone. Thirteen controls I already knew how to use and have committed to muscle memory will be changed around for absolutely no explicable reason. End result: four months of d*cking around and a bunch of cash sacrificed to the spaceship, and if I'm lucky I'll get back to...where I am right now. And, insult to injury, even if EV route planning is well implemented in Maps sometime within the current decade, parsimonious Apple won't pinch off the bucks to keep it groomed and up to date, so the functionality will age and fade, even though being up-to-date is the most crucial mission of an EV-charger-finding route planner—and even though Apple could afford to keep it sleek and groomed with less cash than it devotes to keeping the bathrooms spotless in the spaceship. I foresee frustration, in other words. 

Great-great-grandmother
Oh, almost forgot—the picture at the top.

A curious fact: my great-great grandmother had an electric car. In 1907. The one in the picture is a restored 1907 Detroit Electric Model D, an automobile brand produced by the Anderson Electric Car Company in Detroit, Michigan. I have no idea if that's the one my great-great-grandmother, Hannah Milhous** Wright Furnas, owned; but my grandmother told me her grandmother had an electric car. She remembered being sent to bed early when her grandmother was visiting, but staying awake at her upstairs window until her grandmother left, and that all she could hear were the tires crunching on the gravel of the driveway. She said this was when she was six years old, which would have been 1907.

It's quite possible Hannah might have been driving herself. My grandmother also said that Hannah Wright Furnas was the first woman in Indianapolis to learn to drive; her chauffeur taught her, on the little lanes that snake and loop around the sprawled-out grounds of Crown Hill Cemetery. My grandmother, who had a prodigious memory, said this like it was something that everyone once knew and that was not in dispute. There is of course no way on Earth to prove it now. But I'll believe it because she did.

Back to Earth now, and the solid ground of fact: I probably won't actually buy an Android phone. Only because I am not the type to be able to manage the transition. Many websites say it's do-able, many videos claim they tell you how-to, but I've never been much good with computers. I've known that all my life. New iPhone, here I come. I'm just no longer inwardly happy about it is all.

Mike
(Thanks to several readers for the "better cars" link.)

*Best word processor ever. "In the opinion of many of its users, WriteNow represented the ideal Macintosh application. It had a simple, intuitive graphical user interface (GUI), no copy protection, and it worked in practically every revision of the Macintosh operating system, including in the Mac 68k emulator on PowerPC Macs and in the Classic Environment under Mac OS X. Its biggest claim to fame, however, was its speed. It was written in assembly language (Motorola 680x0) by a group of developers who had a reputation for producing extremely efficient code." (Wikipedia)

**Yes, that Milhous. Richard Nixon was my sixth cousin. Maybe once or twice removed, I don't know.

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Maggie Osterberg: "Siri. Oh lord, Siri. Dumber than a box of rocks, and twice as infuriating. But, maybe, a secret comedian. I was in a therapy session, speaking about some pretty heavy stuff in my past and how trauma had impacted my life, and, you know, the usual stuff, when, out of nowhere, my Apple Watch suddenly pipes up with my Irish Siri's voice. 'I'm not sure what to make of that, Maggie.' 'What?' I said out loud. 'I can't help you,' Siri replied. My therapist and I totally lose it, laughing our asses off. That was it for the session!"

Ronny Nilsen: "Have a look at the app 'A Better Routeplanner' for planning you EV trip, no need to wait for Apple, and it's available on both iPhone and Android."

Mike replies: I signed up. I'm all in. I'll use that. Thanks Ronny!

Chris Kern: "The best thing about Apple: the company’s products cooperate to form a coherent ecosystem—iPhones, iPads, Macs, and (with some limitations based on the characteristics of the platform) watches—you have seamless access to your data and application software from any of them. The worst thing about Apple: the frequent churn of user agent features: configuration parameters that are moved from one location to another and bundled applications whose functionality is altered for no apparent reason."

Christer Almqvist: "The salesman at my Apple distributor shares your opinion about the iPhone."

robert e: "Ah, what irony! Or do I mean metaphor? Do you know what else Apple under Tim Cook didn't do? Build an electric car, after trying to develop one for ten years at an estimated cost of $10 billion, possibly in collaboration with VW. (Per Wikipedia, 'Apple car project'). Do you know which electronics company did develop an electric car? Xiaomi. They announced their intention in 2021, started production in 2023 and officially released in 2024, the same year Apple gave up on its EV. The car, the SU7, is a runaway success. Jim Farley, Ford's CEO, had one for six months and said he loved it.

"Unrelated, but, a few years ago, I switched from Google's Maps app to Apple's for driving directions because I preferred the way Apple telegraphed turns way ahead of time, but on a recent cross-country trip, I had to switch back to Google Maps because Apple's directions often seemed a little bonkers."

Mike replies: Strange thing happened to me on my trip: I was driving my old Acura, but had my eyes peeled to see if I could spy any Nissan Ariyas in the wild. Driving to Vermont the directions take you off the expressway and never take you back on, and eventually I saw one pass going the other direction on a New York two-lane. Much later, I'm in Vermont, trying to make the final few miles to my friends' house, and Apple Maps in bonkers mode takes me down a very obscure dirt road that I strongly suspected was wrong. Then, about a mile down this road, Siri pipes up and says, "There is an obstruction ahead. Your route is cancelled. Goodbye," and falls silent. I phoned my friends for live directions. They got me turned around and headed back toward known roads, and then, on this remote dirt road on which I had seen no vehicles at all, what should pass by but the second Ariya I'd seen on the trip. Weird. 

Later I was told by several Vermonters that Apple Maps often bails out like that on routes over dirt, seasonal, or steep roads, apparently so no one gets disappointed or stuck and later makes a complaint. 

Oh, and when I arrived at the cookout area on Blue Moon, where the group was gathered for their weekly Summer picnic, Siri unexpectedly came to life again and said, "Arrived!" 

Kirk: "I use an iPhone XR. It's seven years old. It works perfectly. Consider security before you switch out of the most secure phone system the world has ever known.... If you have a 13 you are two upgrades ahead of me. And I reiterate, mine works perfectly and in no way inhibits my progress or my business. And yes, it works flawlessly in my car via CarPlay. Seven years old. Just sayin'. Sigh, and people tease me for upgrading cameras...."

Eric Chin: "Hi Mike: You may not be aware that Google also has a phone service, Google Fi. It uses the T-Mobile network. You could probably get a pretty good trade-in on your phone if you join the service. I started using Google Pixel phones because you get software upgrades immediately from Google. With the carriers, you have to wait for them to get the upgrade and sort it out for their phones, which can take a long time. Maybe more detail than you need, but the Pixel 10 coming out this year is the last year they're using the current chip architecture, and they'll be changing to a different architecture with the Pixel 11. Since last year, it's nice they now offer the Pro models in two sizes, so you don't have to buy a large phone just to get the best camera."

Robert Roaldi: "I use an iMac and an iPad but I'm still ticked at Apple for letting Aperture slide into oblivion. I still prefer it to anything else I've used. I don't like touch screens or those talking interfaces but I assume they are useful to someone."

Nick: Mike, you're thinking about switching from Nikon to Canon. Every phone is largely the same these days; the top models are roughly the same price and have the same features. Every maker tries to lock you into their own ecosystem, and they all have various positives and negatives. Not to say that your Apple complaints aren't valid, but you'll find just as many issues with a new Samsung or Xiaomi etc., and you will have lost a lot of UI know-how. You are correct of course there is more variety in body shapes outside of Apple, if a folding phone is of interest to you. Otherwise I think it's a grass-is-greener problem. But apart from losing integration with your Mac etc., at least it's an easier switch than camera bodies as you don't have a similar collection of lenses that won't work anymore. Relatively easy to buy another phone for this three-year cycle and see how you go."

John Gordon: "My son, living in Hong Kong in 2018, gave me a Xiaomi Android phone to compare with my iPhone. Technically the Xiaomi was good; the Android opsys not so much. And that version of Android was not upgradable so I quickly returned to iPhone and the Apple ecosystem. But the big news today is that Xiaomi now manufacture some of the best EVs in the world. According to an article in The Atlantic by Patrick George, 'The American Car Industry Can’t Go On Like This,' (14 August), Jim Farley, the CEO of Ford, last year drove a Xiaomi SU7 for six months 'to scope out the competition.' The Chinese-made EV is 'one of the world’s most impressive cars: It can accelerate faster than many Porsches, has a giant touch screen that lets you turn off the lights at your house, and comes with a built-in AI assistant—all for roughly $30,000 in China.' Farley said, 'It’s fantastic...I don’t want to give it up.' Ford is now redesigning its manufacturing processes in an attempt to produce a Xiaomi-competitive truck that will sell for much less than the current F150 EV. Due in 2027."

Thom Hogan: "Advice: replace the battery and fight the 'new phone' battle another day.

"Commentary: You're missing a couple of key points. First, you're assuming today's Siri will be tomorrow's. Pretty clear from Apple that won't be true. Apple has this long-established habit of appearing behind and then doing the better product. That will happen with AI. When is the only question, but I think it's Pournelle's Real Soon Now. Second, the post about Google being a parasite is correct and this should disturb you. The only reason for Android, Chrome, and the search engine are to control and track you, and make you the product to someone else. Apple's products are actual products, not you. AI, for what it's worth, is going to be another eventual monopoly, much like search became. The reason has to do with the economics behind it. The cost to scale is enormous and that cost never goes away; it is ongoing and just keeps scaling. Which means that revenue has to pay the way. Google and Meta see AI as 'the next search/social,' and they have the business model (selling you and your information) that is proven. ChatGPT and many of the others don't have a model that works, and are looking desperately for one. Apple's model is 'sell you more devices that work together' (e.g. AI from your watch can deal with home, car, computer, phone, et al., and vice versa)."

Jerker Andersson (partial comment): "In 1991, a friend and I were in Haarlem, the original, in The Netherlands. We had a coffee break in a small café at the outskirts of town and I put my camera under my chair. Halfway through our coffee, two young men came in and sat down at the table immediately behind me. They talked in Arabic with a few words in Dutch. My friend and I couldn't understand exactly what they were saying, but it was clear they were talking about us. So we decided it was time to leave. After a few steps I heard the scraping sound of a chair from their table and soon I felt a hand on my shoulder. I froze and slowly turned around. One of the young men stood there with my camera in his hand. 'I think you forgot something,' he said, and handed it over. My shoulders went down and it all ended with me paying for their coffee. There's lots of that stuff in this tale. And it's good to have your prejudices challenged from time to time. But hold on to your gear!" 

Received — 16 August 2025 The Online Photographer

Featured Comments from the Chris Killip Post

16 August 2025 at 20:49

I forgot to post comments from the Chris Killip post. Here are the Featured ones; the rest are published under the original post

-

KillipTrevor Johnson: "I have been an admirer of Chris Killip’s work since I first came across him in the late 1980s. By the time the early '80s came, I was working in London and the South East, but had spent five years as an undergraduate at the University of Newcastle upon Tyne and worked there for a year before moving, so I was very aware of the places he documented and the undoing of social fabric in Tyneside that was taking place.

"In 2023, Shirley and I visited Newcastle to view his retrospective exhibition at the Baltic, Gateshead, which is just over the river from Newcastle. We were both stunned at seeing the printed images, not only the content, which we had some awareness of, but the quality of the images and prints was simply outstanding. This was carefully considered, yet simultaneously spontaneous photography with medium- and large-format cameras.

"Afterwards, I again considered whether such documentary photography can exist today. What set apart, for example, the Skinningrove series, was that Killip lived, worked, ate and breathed amongst the community he documented. Another photographer who did the same was Tish Murtha, who lived in the west of Newcastle. One of the ironies is that I bought her book Elswick Kids from the Side Gallery in Newcastle, which Killip cofounded. But the Side Gallery closed in 2023, due to a reduction of its Arts Council grant. I hope it is a temporary closure but can imagine that if the Side was in London, it would still be open."

Nigel: "I have In Flagrante Two published by Steidl, 2016,which is also out of print, but maybe easier to find. Killip's book is very good if somewhat depressing look at the North of England, shot in the golden period of British documentary photography. This hard-hitting style of social photography has gone right out of fashion; younger photographers seem to want to talk about themselves, if what I see on the contemporary scene is representative of modern concerns. "

Michael Wayne Plant: "I first encountered Chris Killip’s work when I was at University doing my MA in Photography and Urban Cultures, they had a copy of In Flagrante in the College Library and it opened my eyes to what a committed photographer deeply engaged with his subject could do. He worked with a mix of cameras and even brought a caravan to be able to stay closer to his subjects while making a lot of the work that appeared in that book. I can only recommend that every photographer spend some time with the work that is in the book. The way it is presented in the book adds to the strength of the images. I have since brought his Seacoal book, which is great and beautifully printed.

"I do not like his colour postcards book on Ireland, it does not sing to my soul like his black-and-white images do. I for a long time felt that his move to America and to the hallowed halls of academia was such a waste for a photographer of his talent, as he really should have been spending more time making images."

Chris C: "Some of them are the time and places I grew up with, but he seems to make it look a bit grimmer than I remember."

Stephen Woolford: "Less difficult to find than the original is In Flagrante Two which was published by Steidl in 2015. The design and print quality are much improved, plus there are additional photos; but no essays. Killip worked in and around Newcastle upon Tyne in the 1970s and 1980s, moving to the USA in 1991 to teach at Harvard. Before he died in 2020 he donated 'The Last Ships,' a set of images of shipbuilding on Tyneside made between 1975–77, to the Laing Art Gallery in Newcastle where they are permanently on display. Pony Box created a newsprint 'zine to go with the exhibition. I noticed recently that signed copies are still available from the Martin Parr Foundation in Bristol. Chris Killip photographed in the north east of England at a time of considerable de-industrialisation and hardship. The landscapes he worked in have been tidied but the adverse effects of those times are still felt by many communities.

"Hope you are making a good recovery."

-

My apologies to all whose comments didn't appear in a timely fashion.

—Mike the Ed.

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Received — 14 August 2025 The Online Photographer

Camera-Carrying Hygiene

14 August 2025 at 17:20

Disclaimers first:

Disclaimer No. 1: Many of my readers are very experienced photographers and/or not airheads like me, so you have long since worked out these issues for yourself and don't need any further input and yep, I know that.

Disclaimer No. 2: Many of my readers are professionals or former professionals and are by nature detail-oriented and highly energetic and have orderly minds and a gift for organization, and, again, have got this down pat.

So no offense.

I read many decades ago that habits are very helpful when you're working at repetitive tasks. My original intro into writing about photography was as a darkroom expert; I read voraciously from then-current as well as historical sources of knowledge and designed and ran my own experiments at the Corcoran School, routinely working in the school darkrooms until the wee hours and then walking the two miles home to Georgetown every night*. I discovered early on that I had a tendency to daydream while working, so I established very strict habits so that when I "came to" in the darkroom after my mind had been a million miles away, I would know exactly where I was in the process and what I had done and not done already. 

I've done the same with camera-carrying. I have habits: always keep the camera in the same place in the car; always put the camera in plain sight on the table in a restaurant, and never leave the table without taking the camera; if I have to put the camera somewhere out of sight, like on the floor next to my chair, always have the strap of the camera or case looped around a part of my body; if I have to have my hands free while I'm carrying the camera, always sling it from my shoulder instead of setting it down. Etc.

That last one was no doubt the precept I violated in Cambridge. Although I wasn't aware of it, I'm surprised at myself. My only excuse was that I had been preparing for a visit to my mother, and I had been emotional for days and, frankly, fearful about the prospect. I handled it much better than I thought I would, as it turned out, but I was dreading it in advance. Her body has long outlasted her mind. Although she wasn't formally diagnosed until 2013, I first saw her dementia symptoms in 2011, and my brother says he saw signs a year earlier than that. God, fate, whatever you want to call it, however you want to understand it, has been exceptionally cruel to her.

Another thing I've noticed is something that I learned during my Leica experiment (I photographed with a metered M6 for two years, and, later, an M4 for another year, guessing exposure settings), and that James Coleman spoke of on Tuesday: "As someone who hardly goes anywhere without one, I've found constantly carrying a camera makes me less likely to forget it as I've grown accustomed to their weight on my shoulder. The times when I've almost lost it were always after I'd gone without it for a spell." That's right. During my Leica years, I did what David Vestal said he did: "Put my camera on in the morning and took it off at night, like my shirt." Carrying a camera only intermittently actually increases the chances you will lose it, because not having it on you feels normal. 

Anyway, I'm surprised at myself. My systems broke down. Re Farhiz Karanjawala's lovely Japan story, I also never set my wallet down anywhere, and I always check twice that my credit card is back in my wallet after paying for a meal. And yet I still leave it behind about once a year. I had to laugh when Farhiz said, "Both wife and daughter were in agreement that this was the last trip they’re letting me do on my own." With no wife or daughter, though, I'm hanging out there in the world alone, so habits remain my hope. 

May you have good light**—and never lose your camera! 

Mike

*I learned self-defensive walking, too: keep your shoulders squared and your head held high, always be alert and looking around, and stride briskly and with purpose. It probably helped that I was 6'2" and worked out three times a week back then, but that or luck kept me from getting mugged on any of those late nights, except for the last period of my alcoholism when I was stumbling around D.C. in the dead of night dead drunk. 

**I believe Brett Weston's salutation at the end of his letters was "Good light and good negs, Brett."

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Albert Smith: "I've traveled the world for decades and never lost a camera in my possession. I use a sort of long strap and wear the camera Bandolier style off my left shoulder onto my right hip. I can swing it up quickly for a shot, slide it to mid-chest in crowds or pull down on the strap to place the camera slightly behind me if I need to do a two-hand function in front of me. Of particularly high value for me in this regard is the recently popular rope-style straps that can be manipulated many ways without twisting awkwardly like the old flat straps. Rope straps can also be made into a wrist strap with some looping but with the ability to instantly be returned to the full length when needed. Even if I have a bag of lenses, the camera is carried outside cross body. When you feel naked without a camera you will be less likely to walk away from it."

Maggie Osterberg: "I always carry my Leicas like Albert—bandolier style, over my left shoulder, lens out, lens cap off. I've never lost a camera that way, and have been able to get shots quickly. That said, I spent an hour looking for my driver's license this morning. It was in the pocket of my pajamas. Which I am wearing. So, no judgment from me!"

David Elesh: "Like Albert Smith, I carry my camera bandolier style. But for a very different reason: while traveling in the Far East, I was advised to always use bandolier style because it discourages thieves on motor scooters and motorcycles from grabbing it as they pass. Having seen someone carrying his camera over his shoulder lose it this way and end up in the street as well, I have ever after carried it bandolier style."

Nick: "Your story brought back two not-so-great recent memories for me. The first one was earlier this year when I got out of a cab in downtown Guadalajara, fresh off the plane from Chicago, and realized that my wallet (with my passport) had fallen out inside the car I just watched drive away. I literally dropped everything (figuring my wife would guard it) and took off running in the direction the car had gone. I was 50 at the time, and while I'm not in terrible shape, I'm not in great shape, either. That said, I caught up to the car a block and a half later where it was stopped at a light. I got back my wallet right there. My dignity and my blood oxygen levels were restored to me much more slowly. On a less happy note, on a recent flight home from London, I left my unnecessarily expensive (but sonically very satisfying) noise-cancelling wireless headphones in the seatback pocket of the plane and didn't realize until the next day. Color me surprised that they never got turned in to the lost and found...."

Tom R. Halfhill: "Last year I absent-mindedly left my recent-model Apple iPhone in a men's restroom at Singapore's huge Changi airport. Half an hour later I realized it was missing. I frantically returned to the restroom and found my phone sitting exactly where I left it."

Edward Taylor: "One trick that I have used is to clip my car keys to my camera strap. If I forget my camera then I also forget my car keys. You can't get far without your car keys."

      
❌