Today’s story on Kazakhstan’s radioactive legacy brought tears to my eyes.

The Photographer’s Eye is seventy concise lessons in the elements that make up a well-composed photograph. Most lessons are just a two-page spread with a few paragraphs of text, several high-quality photographs, and excellent captions. This book teaches more through its photographs than through its words, so be prepared to take time and explore the photos. In most cases, the words provided just enough context to help me “get it” when I studied the photos. In rare cases, the text is too terse and I’d be left confused (such as the lesson on Dividing the Frame – how can I use the golden ratio in photographs?), but the majority of the lessons struck the fine balance between getting me to understand the concept and leaving me hungry for learning even more.

The Photographer’s Eye even gets the details right. The book is beautifully produced. The paper is high quality, pages lay open easily (important when trying to see the details of photos that get close to the gutter), the photographs look great, and the page layout makes it easy to soak in lots of information on each two page spread.

You could skip this book if you’ve got a good background in art. However, if you’ve come to photography through some other route, get this book. It’s done more to improve my photographs than anything else I’ve read, bought, or tried.

This is a just a playground picture of my kid. I really like it, though, for the repetition of curves, the contrast of silver & black, and the exaggerated perspective from my wide angle lens. I even think I achieved some interesting dynamic tension with Alex’s eye line going to the lower left, but the repetition of curves pulls the to the lower right corner. Before reading The Photographer’s Eye, I wouldn’t have even had those concepts in my head. So I doubt I would have recognized the possibility in the scene,  and therefore I wouldn’t have balanced precariously on the top of the climbing structure to get the shot…

At the risk of this blog turning into a David DuChemin fan site, I’m going to review my second DuChemin work. Ten is an e-book I found once I wandered over to DuChemin’s blog, Pixelated Image. The subtitle pulled me in: Ten ways to improve your craft. None of them involve buying gear. My wife wishes I’d pay more attention to books like this.

For an amateur photographer, Ten has a lot going for it.

• It’s cheap: Regularly $10, on sale for a few more weeks at $5!
• It’s short: 32 pages.
• It’s dense. 10 ideas in 32 pages doesn’t leave a lot of room for fluff. I value concise writing.
• It has exercises! I haven’t been in any sort of school for over a decade, yet I still find assignments valuable for self-guided learning.

I don’t recommend Ten as your first book on composition. It’s too brief to succeed if you’re getting exposed to these ideas for the first time. Where the e-book shines is focus. As an amateur, I’m easily overwhelmed by all of the things I could be doing to make better images. Ten has helped me organize my thoughts and focus on ten things I can do over the next few weeks to improve.

I don’t want to go into too much detail about the ten ideas in the e-book. The book’s so short, I fear if I say too much you won’t want to buy it. And you should buy it. I’ll give you a small preview by sharing the first exercise in the book: Get Pickier. The exercise:

Head out with your camera for an hour and force yourself to shoot a hundred frames – push yourself creatively. Lots of people do this as a creative exercise. But now do the opposite. Go out and shoot only 3 frames… With each image really look at it…. Would you put this on your wall? No? Delete it. Try again. Is the light the way you wanted it? The framing? Is it the right moment? No? Delete it.

I tried the three-frames-in-an-hour exercise on Sunday, and it was both valuable and really, really hard. I love how this mindset forced me to frontload all of my thinking. I find it too easy with digital cameras to shoot indiscriminately and only turn my brain on in front of the computer, during editing. I also feel this enormous pressure when shooting: It’s rare to get time away from the kids, in good light, with interesting subjects. I feel I need to maximize my use of the time by taking as many photos as possible. For example, I shot close to 1,000 frames in two hours at the Prosser Hot Air Balloon Rally. I was shooting by instinct instead of by careful thought.

So, thanks to reading Ten, I brought a different mindset to the Washington Park Arboretum this past Sunday. Even though I had just a precious hour to capture fall color in early morning light, I set a goal of only coming home with three pictures on my SD card. I was immediately more relaxed because I wasn’t trying to bring home every possible image I could find. I was only looking for the best. I set up my tripod, I watched the light. I walked by countless plants that were showing some fall color in my quest for the best. I know if I hadn’t been working on this assignment, I would have stopped to snap every one of those trees and shrubs.

Even with all of this attention, I wasn’t picky enough. I had six photos on my card when I made it back to my car, and only one photo I really like: The photo of the leaf at the top of this review. I don’t feel too bad about only having one keeper. However, in hindsight, I think the other two images I brought home would have been stronger had I taken more time to work on them in the field. Take this photo, for instance:

I like the color of the leaves, and I like the contrast between the leaves and the bark, but in the end this photo doesn’t do it for me. The entire tree had a beautiful shape, though. Maybe I would have had a stronger photo had I backed up to take in the whole tree instead of going for a close-up. Or maybe that wouldn’t have worked either, but my failure is I didn’t even try. This exercise is deceptively challenging.

If there’s that much value in one paragraph, imagine what you’ll get from 32 pages of similarly excellent content. The ebook is just $5 right now. If you’re trying to make your photography better, just get it. Start at this link.

Take Your Photography to the Next Level by George Barr has a promising title. What amateur photographer doesn’t want to make it to the next level? Heck, I’d just love it for somebody to explain the levels to me, so I know what the next one is to aspire to! I skimmed the table of contents at my local Barnes & Noble. Not a whole lot of information on gear or f-stops. Instead, the chapters include Finding Images, Composing, and Assessing Images. It looked promising enough to buy and bring home.

George Barr has a clear, matter-of-fact writing style. My analytical brain appreciates how he approaches some topics. The first chapter on “reading photographs,” for example, methodically walks the reader through different aspects of evaluating an image. This is a skill I’m still consciously trying to develop so I can do more than say, “Pretty picture!” about the images I like. I also got an interesting idea from his chapter on composition: Trying to sketch the main lines of the photo I’m trying to create before pressing the shutter. This sounds like a good exercise to force me to slow down and actively evaluate the composition. I haven’t tried this technique yet, but it seems promising.

Unfortunately, this is all that I directly learned from the book. I had a hard time relating to most of the content and most of the photographs. Early in the book, I was captivated by Barr’s detailed images of industrial & natural subjects. I think his black & white photograph Ship’s Bow on page 10 is a masterpiece, for example. But as I worked my way through the book, I found myself increasingly bored with the images. When I got to the photo of Barr’s underwear lying on the floor (no joke – page 45), I felt I’d passed the point of no return. The photos of dried mud, wet shale, steel tubes, and parking garages all blurred in my mind. My only thought as I skimmed the rest of the book: I’m not sure I want to get to the next level of photography!

I learned more from the experience of reading this book than from the book itself. First, I learned I don’t aspire to be a fine art photographer. If fine art photography’s your thing, you’ll likely find lots of great advice in this book. Most of it went over my head. I value photography that helps me connect to other people, places, and events in this world. I daydream about shooting an assignment for National Geographic instead of getting a portfolio published in Black & White Magazine. There’s not a lot in the book for my demographic.

Second, I learned an important point about picking photography books. A photography book is inevitably the personal account of an experienced photographer to us amateurs. Since there are so many different styles of photography, spend time looking at the pictures in the book and ask yourself, Is this a photographer I want to learn from? If the answer’s “no,” skip the book. In hindsight, I should have studied Barr’s photos as much as the book’s table of contents before I bought it. This isn’t a book I’ll keep on my shelf.

P.S. The Internet can often be a mean-spirited place. George Barr is obviously a more skilled & successful photographer than I am. I don’t want to imply anything negative about his photography, other than saying it’s not my style.

I photographed the balloons with my Nikon D700, 24-70 f/2.8, and 80-200 f/2.8 AF-S lenses. I used the 80-200 most of the time, and the combined weight of the body and lens is 5.6 pounds. But when you drive three hours and wake up in the cold, starry, pre-dawn darkness for less than two hours of taking pictures, weight is not the primary concern. The D700 was a great tool for the job.

“Balloon and Ripples.” Shot with my Nikon D700 and 80-200 f/2.8 AF-S. Big and heavy, but also fast and responsive with a great viewfinder. Nikon D700, 1/250 at f/9, ISO 400, 80-200 f/2.8 AF-S zoom at 80mm.

But when the balloons had all landed, my mini-vacation wasn’t over. I checked out the Prosser farmer’s market, the town harvest festival, and a few wineries. Unlike my experience with the balloons, this part of the trip was primarily about getting out and experiencing the town. I didn’t have particular photos in mind, but I was on the lookout for fun images that would capture the essence of a day in Prosser. The best tool I have for this job is the Olympus EP-1. Total weight? 1.2 pounds. It’s by far my lightest large-sensor camera, and compact enough that I wouldn’t hesitate to throw it over my shoulder for a few hours of exploring.

“Truck, Hay, Chow.” Wine Country glamour aside, this is still rural America. This was the feed & grain store at the edge of town. I took this photo with the EP-1. Using the LCD to compose in the bright sunlight wasn’t a problem at all. EP1, 1/250 at f/11, ISO 200, 14-42 zoom at 14mm.

Size & weight have made me a big fan of the Olympus E-410 and E-520 cameras. I’ve taken thousands of photos with each body and made a sizeable investment in lenses. In spite of owning more “serious” cameras like the D700, a high proportion of my best photographs come from my Olympus cameras, because these are the cameras I feel comfortable carrying anywhere. That’s why I love the EP-1. It gives me almost everything I love about the E-520: Quick access to important shooting controls, full compatibility with my four-thirds lenses, and in-body image stabilization. It even bests the E-520 with two control dials and a new sensor. And the EP-1 provides all of this in a package that’s smaller and lighter than my no-frills E-410.

The EP-1 isn’t perfect. For me, the most significant issue is autofocus speed. Autofocus is accurate, and it’s certainly faster than manually focusing, but this isn’t the camera I’ll grab when I want pictures of my fast-moving kids. That remains my SLR. However, the EP-1 autofocus works perfectly well for a day of exploring, when I’m capturing images of relatively static subjects.

“Grapes.” This is the center of all economic activity in Prosser. EP-1, 1/80 at f/5.6, ISO 500, 14-42 zoom at 35mm.

“Duck Gourd.” At the Prosser harvest festival, one of the vendors made a cute display of gooseneck squash painted to look like a duck. Looks very “autumn” to me. EP-1, 1/160 at f/8, ISO 200, 14-42 zoom at 35mm.

Many bemoan the low-resolution LCD. In my shooting, this doesn’t bother me in the least. You can’t check fine focus, but it’s bright and has a wide viewing angle. Honestly, I find it easier to compose on the EP-1 LCD than I do using the optical viewfinder of either of my Olympus DSLRs.

I never intended to get the Olympus EP-1. I’d decided that the GH-1 was the micro-four-thirds camera for me. A series of unfortunate events made me the unintended owner of the EP-1, and while I would not have bought this camera under normal circumstances, I’m glad I have one. It’s a nice compliment to the GH-1. The GH-1 delivers near-DSLR autofocus performance, a good electronic viewfinder, and video performance that’s the envy of every combo camera. But it does this at being nearly the size and weight of my E-520. The EP-1, in contrast, rounds out what I get from the GH-1 by giving me an ultraportable camera with full compatibility with my micro-four-thirds and four-thirds lenses. The EP-1 is a joy to grab-and-go.

The combined strengths of my two micro-four-thirds bodies have completely convinced me that micro-four-thirds is the system for me for serious compact photography. I’ve loved & bonded with my E-410 and E-520, but I’m moving on to their successors. Watch for my eBay listings!

“Stacked Bottles.” This was just a display that caught my eye in the 6th Street Coffee Shop in Prosser. The EP-1 does not at all feel out of place in a little coffee shop. EP-1, 1/50 at f/5.6, ISO 1600, 14-42 zoom at 24mm.

If you have a similar daydream, Within the Frame: The Journey of Photographic Vision is the book for you. This is not a technical how-to book, nor is it a generic composition/aesthetic book. It’s basically a 250 page manual on how to be like David. I’ve put the book’s contents into two buckets in my mind. The first 64 pages are a lightweight treatment of photographic vision & composition. It’s a good overview, and it’s refreshing to find a book that focuses on this instead of f-stops. But I prefer Freeman’s The Photographer’s Eye when I want to study composition.

I got the most out of the middle three chapters: Storytelling, Photographing People, and Photographing Places. (The final chapter on photographing culture didn’t do it for me.) The Storytelling chapter helped me think of different techniques for using both single frames and photo essays to tell stories. I’m practicing on my personal blog. For my post on the Puyallup Fair, I picked an establishing shot, a detail shot, a portrait, and a closer.

“Swinging Spectator.” I owe this photo to Within the Frame. First, I went to the fair looking for establishing shots for a photo essay. I also thought ahead and knew I wanted photos of the rides. When Alex kept staring at this ride, I saw an opportunity to create foreground/background layers. I slowed the shutter as much as I could in the bright sun to capture movement in the swing.

The chapters on photographing people & places are self-explanatory and dense with helpful tips. What’s most helpful, though, is just the general encouragement and mindset in the chapters. For instance: Photographing strangers is hard. Get over it and do it. And when you do, you owe it to your subject to get the best picture possible. Don’t exclusively rely on clandestine grab shots. Photographing places: Find the right balance between planning your shots and just walking around lost.

Throughout the book you’ll find gorgeous photos, and you’ll learn as much from the photos and their captions as you will from the text. I know the pictures will reward repeated study. And throughout the book, you’ll be reminded to make each photograph about something. This is what DuChemin means when he writes about “vision,” and the most valuable thing about this book is it helped me get that elusive concept. This earns Within the Frame a place on my photography bookshelf.

In Part One, I talked about using the GH-1 as a still camera and compared it to my well-loved Olympus E-520 and the 12-60 lens. My initial conclusions is the two shooting experiences are comparable. But if you’re thinking of paying the price premium for the GH-1, you’re looking at using it for more than just stills. You’re eyeing this for its video capability.

Before I give my opinion on the GH-1’s video, I need to give the following disclaimer. While I’m just an amateur photographer, I’m a novice videographer. I’m under a lot of pressure to shoot video of my kids and post it to the internet so the distant grandparents can watch them grow up. (It feels like a classic give-an-inch-and-they’ll-want-a-mile situation! I post lots of photos, and then people want video. Maybe if I start posting a lot of video, they’ll want 3D holograms. Can’t win.) I don’t shoot movies or commercials. I do very simple edits and post on the internet. That disclaimer aside: How does the GH-1 work as a video camera?

In a word: Perfect.

It’s a bold claim, so let me tell you want I’m comparing it to.

• A dedicated camcorder. For a couple of years, I used a dedicated Sony camcorder. It recorded to those mini-DV tapes. Some things about the Sony were quite nice. It had an articulating LCD as well as a viewfinder. I found the LCD the most comfortable way to shoot video. It’s doubly helpful shooting young kid video, because I could flip the LCD around and my son could watch himself while making the video. He loved that and it was much easier to get footage that way. The only drawbacks of the Sony: First, it’s a dedicated camcorder. I’m a photographer, so I like carrying a camera everywhere. I don’t want to carry a camcorder around. Second, it uses tapes. When you’re used to a computer-based workflow and the random access you can get from flash memory, tapes are just a pain. I found myself avoiding the camcorder because I didn’t want to deal with tapes. Instead, I used:
• A digital point-and-shoot. My Panasonic LX-3 became my go-to video tool for several months. It solved many of the problems of the camcorder. I love carrying the LX-3 everywhere. It records great HD video to SD cards. The only problems: No articulating LCD. (I’ve got lots of footage of my son where he’s in front of the camera for 5 seconds, then says, “I want to see!” and you see him running around to the back of the camera to watch himself.) Also, at the time, I had a hard time finding good Windows software for editing the .MOV files the camera produced. I had to do an extra step of transcoding the .MOV files to .WMV.

The GH-1 is the best of both worlds. Like the LX-3, it shoots great HD video (in either 1080p or 720p) and it writes to SD cards. It’s a camera, so I’ll bring it with me to the park. Like the  Sony camcorder, it’s got an articulating LCD. Then, the GH-1 has a couple of unique advantages thrown in. Unlike the LX-3, it’s got a dedicated movie button on the back. It’s very easy to start shooting video, no matter what mode the camera was in. And unlike any other combo-cam on the market, the GH-1 comes with a video-optimized kit lens. Autofocus is fast and silent, so you don’t hear the lens focus when you’re viewing your footage.

Finally, when my wife saw some of the first footage from the GH-1 on our computer screen, the first words out of her mouth were, “Wow. That’s a lot better than our camcorder.” I don’t know if she was more impressed with the HD video or the sound quality (the built-in mic is quite good). But whatever impressed her the most, suddenly the money I spent on the GH-1 had spousal approval.

Finally, one thing has coincidentally happened that makes it easy to use the GH-1: A new beta of Windows Live Movie Maker shipped that natively supports AVCHD video. I don’t have to do any separate transcoding steps to edit video.

You can see the results for yourself here. This is just a family movie, but you can watch autofocus and autoexposure in action.

I’m surprised how hard it’s been for me to make this decision in a calm, rational manner. Strange emotions splattered over each stage of my decision making process. The calm, rational part of me knows the camera system I use doesn’t really matter. Nobody sells a magic camera that will turn me into Ansel Adams. All digital cameras these days are good enough that, in good light, the only thing that keeps them from taking consistently stunning pictures is me. A lot of my favorite pictures from 2008 came from the small, light, and cheap Olympus 410 with its small, light, and cheap kit lenses.

However, the frustration of missed shots has seared itself onto the irrational part of my brain. Most emotionally charged photography takes place in bad light. My small, light, and cheap Olympus 410 struggled taking candid pictures in the church and at the reception of Elsa’s wedding. (Even my long lusted-after lens upgrade to my Olympus system didn’t help that much.) Most of the time I get to spend with my kids is inside at night, when even the Canon 5D and the 50mm f/1.4 lens have a hard time freezing quick-moving and uncooperative infants and toddlers.

In December, I decided to rent camera equipment to see if there was any quick technological fix to Missed Shot Frustration syndrome. I’ve heard a lot about how good the newest generation of camera bodies was at low-light photography. I contacted the fine folks at Pro Photo Rental and secured a Nikon D700, Nikkor 17-35 f/2.8, Nikkor 24-70 f/2.8, and Nikkor 105 f/2.8 Micro. I would have rented a 5D Mark II, but unsurprisingly none were available in the rental market at the time. My assumption was the D700 and 5D Mark II would be roughly comparable, as the latest advanced-amateur cameras from the two leading manufacturers. What I wanted to learn from my time with the D700 was how big an advantage it was to move to the latest generation of camera. Is it something I should do today, or should I wait for prices to fall? I also rented the Olympus E-3, just to see what the top-of-the-line of the Olympus system was like to work with.

Here’s some of my observations at the end of my four days’ hands-on time with the different cameras.

• To anyone coming from Canon, the Nikon is just backwards. The way you mount the lens is backwards; the way you dial in exposure compensation is backwards. The two command dials aren’t where you expect them to be. I’d frequently have my eye at the viewfinder and slide my finger along what I thought would be a command dial, but I was just stroking the camera body. It’s like handling a camera from the Bizzaro Universe. I’m really glad I got to use the camera for four days to start working through the culture shock.
• Size & weight matter to me, with lighter being better. The Nikon system I used was just massive. The D700 + 24-70 weighs 4.7 pounds. The 5D + 24-105 weighs 3.6 pounds. The E-3 + 12-60 weighs 3.4 pounds.
• If I was going to buy a camera just based on ergonomics, I’d buy the Olympus E-3. The Olympus is solid without being too heavy. Its weather seals are the most impressive. I could change settings on this camera quickly. I like shooting from odd angles, and the tilt/swivel LCD makes it significantly easier. Built-in image stabilization and sensor cleaning are big plusses compared to the Vintage 5D. I also have a soft spot for the Olympus because the 410 is just so darn cute and works so well.
• But I wasn’t evaluating based on ergonomics – I wanted to see how the cameras performed in challenging lighting situations. I took the Olympus E-3 with me & Alex to the Pacific Science Center. There’s a lot of very dim interior lighting. I did a lot of shooting at ISO 1600 and f/2, and there was a lot of Missed Shot Frustration syndrome. With the Olympus 50mm f/2, focus was often too slow, and a few times the lens just refused to autofocus altogether. (This would usually happen when I was switching from the macro focus range to focus on something in the distance.) There was also a lot of subject blur, even at ISO 1600 and f/2. (Shutter speeds in the dinosaur room could be as low as 1/25 to 1/60. IS helped me with the pictures of the things that weren’t moving. Alex, on the other hand, didn’t stay still.) The other frustration was more subjective. My fastest Olympus lens is the 50mm f/2 (100mm equivalent), and I’m not as comfortable composing with that angle of view. While I didn’t bring the Vintage 5D with me on this trip, I know from experience that it also struggles at the Pacific Science Center. My 24-105 f/4 zoom isn’t fast enough. The Vintage 5D’s advantage is its ISO 1600 is cleaner than the Olympus, and I have a fast 50mm lens for Canon.

“The Claw”. Olympus E-3, ISO 1600, 50mm f/2, 1/60s at f/2

• I did two real-world torture tests for the Nikon – kid pictures in the living room at night, and then at the Seattle Aquarium. These are both situations where I know from experience that the Vintage 5D struggles. And in both cases, I was just amazed by how well the D700 handled the situation. There was a combination of factors that made it substantially easier to consistently get good pictures of quick-moving kids in bad light. Most obviously, ISO 6400 on the D700 is roughly as usable as ISO 1600 on the Vintage 5D. But equally important is how fast and how accurately the D700 focused in low light. It simply didn’t struggle at all. That might be because I was using an f/2.8 lens on the D700 instead of the f/4 lens on the 5D (although the 5D struggles to focus the 50mm f/1.4 in low light, too). The D700 viewfinder is bigger and brighter that the Vintage 5D. (A potentially confounding factor for this comparison is I had the grid focusing screen installed on the 5D, and maybe it’s not as bright.) Another very subtle difference between the D700 and the Vintage 5D is the D700 has a shorter mirror blackout. To this photographer, at least, it doesn’t feel as intrusive. Finally, the D700 implements Auto ISO in the way I need for kids-in-bad-light photography. Both the Olympus and the 5D Mark II use the inverse-of-the-focal-length rule to determine the minimum acceptable shutter speed. (The Vintage 5D doesn’t have Auto ISO at all.) With the D700, I tell it the minimum shutter speed I want. I need at least 1/125 or 1/160 for moving kids, and this is true even if I’m shooting wide-angle.

“Aenemone.” Nikon D700, ISO 6400, 24-70mm f/2.8 at 70mm, 1/100s at f/2.8

• I did a couple of good-light tests of the cameras. I took the D700 and the E-3 to the Arboretum one afternoon, and I took the D700 and the 5D to the Bellevue Botanical Gardens. In good light, the differences between the cameras was much more subtle and subjective. All took good pictures. Each had strengths and weaknesses.

I was sad to send back the D700 and the E-3. The benefit of renting the E-3 was it eliminated my gear lust for that particular camera. While I’d love to get a good deal on a used E-3 (primarily for the viewfinder and more AF points), I concluded the E-3 really won’t help me solve Missed Shot Frustration syndrome. But it’s still a cool camera.

The D700 was another matter. I fell in love with how responsive the camera was when I had it, and I concluded it would significantly reduce Missed Shot Frustration syndrome in bad light, which is unfortunately a situation I’m in a lot. It really looked like a breakthrough upgrade, something worth doing now rather than waiting a year or more.

For a while, I thought the cost of switching systems would be too high. On New Year’s Eve, I went to Kenmore Camera to see how much they’d offer for my Canon gear (not enough). But they did have a 5D Mark II in stock. I read that the 5D Mark II had the same or better high-ISO performance as the D700, I figured it was the same generation as the D700, so I traded in my Vintage 5D and my 24-105 for a 5D Mark II and a 24-70. I spent more money that day that I wanted, but I figured sticking with Canon would save me over the long run.

Buyer’s remorse kicked in the next day. The Canon’s high-ISO performance was as good as advertised. But autofocus performance (and mirror blackout) really hadn’t improved over the Vintage 5D. I took the 5DM2 to the aquarium. I could take pictures with the 5DM2 that were never possible with the Vintage 5D, but it also struggled focusing on Alex as he walked around in ways the D700 didn’t. The difference between the 5DM2 and the D700 isn’t as big as the difference between the Vintage 5D and the 5DM2, but the difference was there and I found myself vaguely frustrated, especially since I plunked down more money than I’d planned. I also found out that I really don’t like 21 megapixels. It eats up compact flash cards, hard drive space, and post-processing time too quickly.

“Octopus Abstract (IV).” Canon 5D Mark II. ISO 6400, 24-70 f/2.8 at 70mm, 1/125s at f/2.8.

So I started doing the math and realized that I could get a D700 and 3 prime lenses for the same as I spent on the 5D Mark II and the 24-70. I knew from going through Lightroom that these three focal lengths (35, 50, and 105) cover about 60% of my photography. I’d then have lots of Canon equipment I could sell on EBay to finance the rest of the Nikon kit. In hindsight, I should have turned to EBay first instead of Kenmore Camera. (I now estimate I could have gotten 50% more selling the Vintage 5D and the 24-105 on EBay than I got as a trade-in value at Kenmore Camera. Yes, the trade-in process is easier, but that’s still a hefty convenience premium. Lesson learned.)

So that’s it. I switched. The rational part of me has learned that the monetary cost of switching systems doesn’t have to be that much higher than the monetary cost of upgrading bodies. (Although the hassle & learning cost is certainly higher.) The irrational part of me thinks I’ve committed some act of betrayal, and that there’s a Vintage 5D out there somewhere that feels like a jilted lover. But the irrational part of me is also irrationally happy at having a new camera system that opens so many possibilities for low-light photography. I hope my 5D will forgive me.

I need to do a better job remembering, though: Paper cameras don’t take pictures. Cameras you hold in your hand do. It’s a subjective thing. The EP-1 feels very, very good in my hand. It’s a different shooting experience than the GH-1. I plan on keeping both, and I look forward to getting more experience with the EP-1.

I’ve heard a lot about autofocus speed of the EP-1. Now that I’ve tried it first hand, I don’t think there’s anything I can add that Lawrence Ripsher hasn’t already said here: Olympus E-P1 Review Diary – Part 2 – Autofocus. If you’re thinking of getting an EP-1, expect compact camera autofocus. I also recommend Lawrence’s camera settings for autofocus (map the autofocus functionality to the AEL/AFL button and keep the camera in S+MF mode).

Olympus released a firmware upgrade yesterday that supposedly makes autofocus faster. I haven’t seen a real difference. It still focuses like a compact camera.

For those who are researching the camera, I made a video comparing the autofocus speeds of the GH-1, the EP-1 before firmware upgrade, and the EP-1 after firmware upgrade. Enjoy.

“Peaches.” Shot with the Panasonic GH-1.

What’s it like to hold the camera in your hand, fiddle with the controls, look through the viewfinder, and shoot with it? To me, that’s the most important thing with a camera. Is it fun to pick up and use? Elsewhere on the Internet you can find lots of opinions on the relative image quality of different cameras. In contrast, I don’t stress over a camera’s image quality. With a few exceptions, the image quality of all modern digital SLRs are great. If I actually press the shutter at the right time and I don’t get a good photo, it’s not the camera’s fault. It means I had poor composition, or poor lighting, or just a bad idea of what I wanted to accomplish. The only thing I’ll blame on a camera is if there’s something that keeps me from pressing the shutter at the right time. Bad autofocus? Too hard to get the controls right in time? Was the camera too bulky to bring with me in the first place?

From a writing perspective, I like what Lawrence Ripsher’s done with his multi-part camera reviews (see his review of the Panasonic LX-3 and the Olympus EP-1). I’m going to try to emulate him.