Moving to a 35mm digital camera requires some adjustment, especially if you’ve been using crop sensor cameras for a long time, as I have. I’ve mentioned these challenges recently, and the specific issue around choosing the right aperture for a depth of field that’s equivalent to what I’d get on a small sensor camera.
Not habitable – Nikon Z5, F8, ISO 100, 24mm
I purchased the Z5 with a well-regarded Z-mount lens: 24 – 70mm F4 S. The S designation that Nikon put on this lens means that it’s above average in performance – or Superior. Perhaps not one of the Pro quality lenses, but definitely exceeding kit lens quality. I also like the constant F4 aperture and the weather-sealing. Not that I’m often out in the rain, but it’s definitely useful when the clouds threaten.
Machines we once used – Nikon Z5
I’ve no issue at all with the sharpness, but the left corner seems to be mushier than the other corners, as though one of the elements is slightly out of position. It seems to happen mostly when at 24mm and possibly at other focal lengths. Not a deal-breaker (not that I could return it anyway), but certainly irritating at times. I keep this in mind when I pull it out and will opt for the 40mm F2 instead if I don’t need the extra width, as that lens is even sharper.
Moving to mirrorless was a wise move for Nikon. I’m not loyal to the brand, but I’ve had a D5100 previously, and still have a D70, a D40, a D3100, a D7100, and the Nikon Z5 in the house, so they must be doing something I like. The Z5 is definitely a fantastic camera to handle and use, as I’ve found with all Nikons. I just need to break some old habits.
Previously, I admitted to having developed a thing for the old Fujifilm Finepix bridge cameras from yesteryear. I didn’t have the money to buy them back when they were new and I’ve often heard good things about Fujifilm cameras in general. Given the recent fetish in the more feverish and magical corners of the internet with CCD cameras of a certain vintage, I think it’s a good time to explore their capabilities and features.
Blossoms – Finepix 6500fd
Where the S7000 is a bit clunky and shows its age, despite some amazing image making capacity for the time, the S6500 feels more modern and sleek. Start-up time is quicker, menus are cleaner and more responsive, and the nice histogram that overlays on the, slightly disappointing, EVF when the Exposure Compensation button is pressed is really useful for looking after highlights and shadows.
I set it to JPG Fine and the Chrome picture mode. This pushes contrast and boosts saturation, especially in greens. Unfortunately, the day was thick with cloud cover, but the Auto White Balance did an admirable job when photographing flower blossoms on the side of the road. Even in this grim light, there’s lots of detail.
Speaking of detail, can you believe that the above photo was made with a small sensor bridge camera from 2006? Even under heavy cloud, there’s amazing detail in the foliage and on the sign. I set Soft sharpening in-camera, preferring to sharpen up in Lightroom. At ISO 100, there is no discernible noise. Unlike the JPGs from the S7000, where pushing them even a little during editing shows plenty of digital noise and tonal fragility, the JPGs from the 6500 preserve a lot more noise-free detail in shadows. The photo above was pushed to +30 in shadow areas! Apart from that, there were small boosts to mid-tone Contrast and Clarity.
Machinery in the yard – Finepix S6500fd
More than megapixels and sensors
The quality of these photos is not just about the sensor. Though the sensor is the same one that’s in the much-loved Fuji F31fd camera, a great lens also makes a big difference. A quick trip out under heavy clouds and rain isn’t ideal for testing a camera, but just looking at the detail in the foliage from a 6.3 megapixel Super CCD sensor and lens combination from 2006 is something of a revelation.
Beauty on the side of a back-road
I think this camera is worthy of setting to record in native Raw file format at some stage, just to see how much detail can be pulled from shadows and highlights. What’s clear is that the Super CCD sensor in the S6500 handles higher dynamic range scenes much much better than the older and clunkier S7000. Two years of digital camera advancement makes a big difference, and I can only imagine how thrilled I would have been to have had this camera way back when!
There’s something delightful about rust – rough patches of red, brown, orange, and black signify the decay of something once whole. It’s a reminder that nothing lasts forever. It gives one pause to consider time, relentless and vast. Also, a good excuse to post some photos of rust and old stuff!
Something rusty – Sony RX100 Mark 1
There’s another thing too: lately I’ve become interested in those old Fujifilm bridge cameras I could never afford at the time of market release. Honestly, I barely had two cents to rub together, let alone the disposable income to purchase one of the many Finepix models from the 2000s era. It was a time when digital, so ubiquitous now, was still carving out a place in photographer’s hearts.
Back in 2004 or 2005 (too long ago), I remember going out with my late father with the intention to buy a good camera. He picked up a mostly plastic, silvery Finepix – a 3500 I think. It was 4 megapixels and looked quite neat. I picked up an Olympus Ultra Zoom – silvery and plastic: a 3 megapixel Olympus Camedia C-725. I still have it, minus the XD card.
My father got the better deal, honestly. Though it wasn’t the best digital camera at the time, the Fuji Finepix he had was fun and easy to use, and he used it a lot! On the other hand, I used my C-725 rarely, under the misapprehension at the time that Olympus must somehow be of more legendary status than Fujifilm. I failed to squeeze much joy out of it and found myself feeling regret. I foolishly set it to Manual mode, placing myself under pressure to make sense of it all, and my brain exploded! Once I find an XD card, I’ll fire it back up with new vigor and give it a second life – if it still works.
Where industry once was, rust reigns supreme – Sony RX100 Mark 1
I have the Finepix S7000 now, of course – a camera that recently surprised me with features, even if it’s slow by today’s lofty standards. But there are two more on the way: the Finepix S5600 and the Finepix S6500fd. The former intrigues me with a minimum ISO of just 64, and a reputation for low noise. The latter features the excellent sensor also present in the Finepix f31fd – a camera that has been targeted by the CCD colour crowd and is now absurdly expensive.
I’m enjoying the old bridge cameras. Back then, these cameras bridged the gap between people who were either still using film cameras and wanted an easy way into digital, and/or those who were using compact digital cameras and wanted to move to something closer to a DSLR/pro camera but didn’t want to lay out too much money.
I’m not a scientist. I’m not an engineer of any sort. I’m certainly not a designer of optical devices or digital sensors, just so you know. There has been debate in some corners of the web about old cameras with CCD sensors rendering better colour and their images looking more film-like. I think a pleasing photo is a subjective thing and people are free to decide what that looks like. I’m just curious about the nature of the debate and why people might think this way.
CCD sensors were the dominant type of digital sensors at the dawn of digital photography. Around 2010 or so, CMOS sensors started to appear in new camera models. At the time, I really didn’t think about it, as I couldn’t even afford any of the better CCD cameras anyway. And believe me, there are plenty of CCD cameras that make junk photos! Interestingly, the CCD colour is better pundits rarely discuss those junk cameras, perhaps because their output doesn’t suit the argument that CCD colour is better.
Of Nikons, Canons, Pentax, and Fujifilm
When people talk about those lovely CCD colours, they usually reference the same cameras: most of the early Nikon CCD cameras, the Fuji Super CCD cameras, early Canons and compacts of a certain model, the Olympus Evolt series, the Leica M9, and a handful of compacts with excellent output. Of course, those cameras were always considered excellent. Reviews at the time of their release praised them, so it’s no surprise that they’re still great cameras today.
I used a few CCD cameras at the time, and then moved to CMOS cameras because that’s what was being sold. I don’t remember anyone discussing the merits of CCD colour versus CMOS colour. I do know that the output of many cheap and cheerful CCD cameras at anything higher than 200 ISO is pretty awful – there’s lots of chroma and luminance noise, and the colours don’t look so great. If you read reviews of those old consumer cameras online, you’ll see there was a focus on accuracy of colour. This is because camera makers saturate certain colours to make the output more attractive for consumers.
Consider the quote above about an old CCD camera. Evidence that colour reproduction has always been on the mind of the photographer and that CCD cameras, for all their current hype, have issues with accurate colour reproduction. This is not to say that inaccurate colours are less attractive. Many cameras are sold based on how their on-board JPG conversion software renders colour, after all.
What influences the colour of a digital photo?
First of all, whether it’s a CCD sensor or a CMOS sensor, the sensor itself is actually colour-blind. The sensor only sees lightness/brightness and not colour. The Colour Filter Array on top of this slice of silicon filters wavelengths of light into Red, Green, and Blue. All of this data is transferred to AD converters and the signal amplified. The on-board software takes this data and, in the case of JPG output, it does some clever stuff to render a compressed file. To achieve the Canon look or the Olympus look, or whatever, the software also applies a tone curve, temperature and tint settings, and may saturate certain colours more heavily.
The Fuji-Chrome look in digital
Fuji is pretty well-known for offering users lots of film presets in their digital cameras. These settings emulate some of the qualities of certain films, including colour, grain, and tone curve. The photo above is from an old Fuji Finepix S7000. It’s a JPG straight out of the camera on the Chrome setting. Note that there’s a slight green bias in the white balance, as well as extra contrast. Definitely a pleasing photo.
On some makes of camera, the White Balance is known to bias warmer or cooler. Nikons tend to have a cooler look to photos, and this helps to produce better colour in some scenes where a warmer bias would create unnatural colours, such as in some types of skin tones. But these things largely matter only when JPG file output is needed.
Choice of lens also has some influence on how a photo looks. People talk about the Leica look, for example, noting that there’s some mystique about it. I don’t have the money to buy a Leica of any sort, so it’s hard for me to comment on this phenomenon. What I do know is that a poor lens can produce poor output, and a great lens can produce great output. Leica have always been known for the superiority of their optics, so it’s most likely that the signature Leica look has a lot to do with the contrast and sharpness imparted by the lens.
Hype and reality
So, why are some people talking about the inherent superiority of CCD sensors and how they render colour? Is CCD colour a question of hardware or software? Here are some common reasons and assumptions, including my thoughts on them, from people who believe that CCD sensors produce better or more film-like images:
The old CCD sensors have thicker Colour Filter Arrays that separate colour better and produce stronger images: As I said, I’m no engineer, so this is tough to question. If this is true, then all a camera maker would need to do is to put a thicker CFA on a new CMOS sensor, and it would approximate all of those great colour results from old cameras. I strongly suspect that the CFAs have very little, if anything, to do with it though, given that there are other strong influences on how a photo looks, such as white balance and camera software.
Camera manufacturers stopped using CCD because CMOS was cheaper, which led to less organic images: Companies do things to save money all the time, but would they really intentionally hobble the output of their cameras to the extent that many CCD enthusiasts believe?
Camera X with a CCD sensor makes photos that look so much better than camera Y with a CMOS sensor, so therefore the CCD sensor must be superior: Let us not forget that most CCD pundits never mention all the junk CCD cameras from that era (is anyone talking about those plasticky Nikon L series compacts that produce average photos?). They mostly talk about the CCD cameras that are still good, even today. They were praised then, and they are still making good photos now. I think that some people who were too young to remember the digital transition now cultivate the mistaken assumption that old camera technology is mostly inferior to today’s technology, and that those great cameras from yesteryear make photos look great because there’s some hidden and forgotten technology in them – the CCD sensor.
CCD cameras make images that are film-like: Let us be clear – only film looks like film. I grew up with film cameras and remember the cheap cameras (I couldn’t afford anything else), powerful in-built flashes, and cheap consumer film. I think the look that many young people talk about relates to the softer quality of many film photos due to low-grade lenses and the appearance of highlights from low-priced consumer film cameras. Those old CCD cameras have limited dynamic range, often creating blown highlights. The best CCD sensors, at low ISOs, do produce less digital noise due to the chip’s architecture, and some people say that this means it’s closer to film. But modern CMOS sensors have advanced greatly in these areas and have far more dynamic range, colour accuracy, and noise control. Just look at the crappiest CCD cameras at anything above base ISO and you’ll see some pretty ugly chroma and luminance noise. The best CCD cameras from that era can make some very nice low noise images, even up to 800 ISO, but none of this means it looks like film. Plenty of people know more about it than I do, but film grain is random and organic. Digital noise is square and uniform. Where an old and highly regarded CCD camera may be useful is at the lowest ISOs and almost no perceptible digital noise. That could make for some nice black and white conversions. The low noise might also make it a better fit for overlaying scanned images of film grain. I’ve never seen much point in overlaying film grain over digital photos that already have digital noise.
You’ll have unlimited film-like images if you buy this cheap CCD camera: There are lots of YouTube videos touting the benefits of these old digicams, even going so far as to label them Y2K cameras. This is a hook to lure people in to watching the videos so that the creators can game the algorithm and snag subscribers, with a little magical thinking and potential profiteering thrown in. Growing up, I saw thousands of photos from film cameras of all sorts. The so-called Y2K camera, the moniker itself a pointer to the generational interest in digicams, doesn’t make film-like images.
If you want to read a pretty in-depth, though only loosely scientific, article on CCD versus CMOS colours, take a look at this site. Spoiler alert: there isn’t a visible difference between them for most people, and any colour output differences seem to come down to company preferences with regard to on-board software processing. CMOS also offers so much more low-light performance that it’s little wonder CCD was replaced by it in the end.
There is something curious about the Olympus E-1 I’ve been using recently, in light of this speculation about sensors. The RAW files it produces are not as flat and dull as you’d expect. They require little editing when exposure settings are nailed. Is that the sensor? Maybe. More likely a tone curve applied, though it seems odd that this can be seen in the RAW files? You can read my thoughts about it here.
Nikon Z5, when paired with sharp lenses, can produce wonderful output
Does it matter?
People love the photos they love. And I’m not an engineer, so I don’t have all the answers. In the end, it doesn’t really matter. Humans are always looking for meaning somewhere and often latch onto narratives despite the data. And that’s OK. Creating and finding greater meaning in life is what we’ve always done.
What I do find interesting is how much prices have risen for the CCD cameras that get the most attention in these online forums and social media discussions. No doubt, some people in those corners have enough interest in profits and online followers that they’ll keep pushing the CCD vs CMOS colour narrative, even unconsciously. I think this is what bothers me the most: the fact that a lot of young people are being duped into paying a three figure sum for a point and shoot from the early 2000s just because some YouTubers told them that the CCD sensor it features produces filmic photos.
In the end, whatever the truth, it’s all part of the marketing and hype cycle. It’s a snake-oil trend that will eventually fade. A generation that grew up seeing family members use those early digital cameras are now looking back to find inspiration in a world that’s over-saturated by AI and overly processed images from smartphones. They feel nostalgic about those old cameras from their childhood and that’s perfectly OK and understandable.
Are digicams worth using now?
The short answer is: yes, of course old cameras are worth using now! Admittedly, I like some of those old cameras because I can afford some of the best ones and their history interests me. And where else would they end up? In the junkyard, thoughtlessly tossed and abandoned as old XD cards and Compact Flash cards molder and rot in their plastic slots? We don’t need the latest and greatest cameras to make interesting photos, that’s for sure.
I do have one thing to thank the Y2K digcam craze for: it has provided me with the impetus to explore some of the early digital cameras I always wanted and could never afford at the time. I can now appreciate some of the great technology in some of those cameras and see how we ended up where we are now. It has also taught me something else: image-making hasn’t advanced as much as the big companies want us to believe.
Many people think that 35mm, or so-called full-frame, sensor cameras are the final destination in terms of photo gear. Nikon, for example, has pursued a marketing strategy of dragging users towards entry-level full-frame cameras over the years, with the DX line of lenses suffering as a result. Of course, a 35mm sensor is simply one size, and certainly not even the largest size that photographers use. Lets not forget medium format or large format film.
Glow above the Arafura Sea – Nikon Z5
I’m no stranger to APS-C cameras, Micro Four Thirds, and smaller. I have plenty of film cameras, including medium format. The idea that 35mm is the ultimate has never been of much concern to me. So, why did I buy the Nikon Z5 only several months ago?
Why use a 35mm camera?
I don’t think that a 35mm digital camera is the right choice for everybody. In fact, I don’t think it’s the right choice for most people who enjoy the more casual side of photography. And even then, superb images can be made with smaller cameras and smaller sensors, especially due to the kinds of advances that have been made in sensor design.
Here are some reasons why I was interested in the Nikon Z5:
Better low-light performance: A bigger sensor means that more light can be soaked up by the photo-sites, making low light photography easier at lower ISOs, thus resulting in less noise. In practice, I found myself still using my Nikon Z5 at 100 ISO at dusk with reasonably fast shutter speeds.
Depth of field: Though a 50mm lens is still a 50mm lens whether it’s on a Micro Four-Thirds camera or a Nikon Z5, you need to move closer to your subject to get the equivalent field of view with that same lens on a 35mm format camera. This also means that you can get shallower depth of field more easily because you’re closer. That said, I’m really more of a deep depth of field kind of person, mostly.
Old lens character: Not only do I get to use a nifty-fifty (or any other focal length) and see what that field of view actually looks like as it did back in 35mm film days, but I also get to see the entire character of the lens rather than just use the central portion of the glass, as I would when using a camera with a smaller sensor. Though, most of the time this character equals mushy edges and corners.
Cahill’s Crossing looking the other way – Nikon Z5
Is the Nikon Z5 replacing everything?
No, the Nikon Z5 is definitely not replacing my other cameras. It’s just another tool that provides certain benefits that are useful at certain times. And there are also some growing pains for me when using it. I’m so used to using smaller sensor cameras like the Olympus OMD EM5 Mark 1 and 2, that the mindset change, especially around setting the aperture, can be challenging at times.
As someone who uses a lot of deep depth of field, the idea that I can’t always set the aperture at f5.6 or f8 challenges my habits. To maintain the same depth of field at the equivalent focal length on the Nikon Z5 as I would have on a camera with a smaller sensor, I often find myself reaching for any F-stop between 8 and 16. Yes, there are times when my Micro Four-Thirds Olympus is the best camera for the job.
Having lunch among the trees – Nikon Z5
Despite the challenges around depth of field, my Nikon Z5 can produce wonderful images and I find myself thinking longer about every photo, likely because I have to also seriously think about my aperture setting versus distance to my subject. And that 24 megapixel sensor, when combined with good Z glass, is very sharp indeed.
In the quest to sell cameras, companies convince us that the latest features are things we need to have. Have you ever heard that more megapixels are better, for example? You may think that the latest 42 megapixel beast is better in every way than your trusty old 12 megapixel compact, but this isn’t telling the whole story.
Ruins of the old school in Wirrabara Forest – Sony RX100
My old Nikon D70 only features a 6.1 megapixel sensor, but that’s more than enough for web viewing. It’s overkill for viewing on a phone screen. It can be printed at 4×6 inches, 7×5, and even 8×10 (possibly a little more too) if cropping hasn’t happened and you don’t use a magnifying glass to examine details.
This is where more megapixels has advantages: recording finer detail and the ability to crop the photo without losing too much of that detail when viewing at larger sizes. Six megapixels can stretch over a forest scene and pick up plenty of detail for small sized prints, but 24 megapixels can be halved in cropping and still print quite large without significant loss of detail across the image.
Sony RX100 outputNikon D70 output
Consider the two photos above. The first is from my Sony RX100 – a 20.2 megapixel compact camera from 2012; edited from Raw. And the second photo is a straight JPG from my Nikon D70 – a 6.1 megapixel DSLR from 2004.
Ignoring the different white balance settings and the aggressive sharpening on the D70 photo, both images look quite detailed don’t they? But the RX100 file contains a lot more tonality and detail, and this can be seen when zooming during the editing process.
When output to compressed JPG – where finer details are lost and pixels discarded – and resized to the same dimensions, the two photos aren’t noticeably different. At small print and viewing sizes, 6.1 versus 20.2 megapixels is not significantly different to the eye. Print large, and all of a sudden, the detail of the 20.2 megapixel image will become apparent, as the D70’s admirable but comparatively humble resolution struggles to stretch to these sizes and details look blurry.
Rusting out in the green field – Sony RX100
Buckets of photons
Even though it’s best to be careful when framing photos with a low megapixel camera like the Nikon D70, it allows one to slow down and consider the scene. There is another variable at play here too – largish digital sensors with a low megapixel count have bigger pixels, and will usually produce less digital noise. Packing 20 or 40 million pixels onto the same sized sensor will produce more digital noise.
I remember my first digital camera – a grey plastic Kodak with an awfully tiny LCD screen, 1 megapixel, and batteries that barely lasted 12 shots. I did enjoy it though, as the colour profile over-saturated the colours and the JPGs looked nice to my eyes. It made some decent looking 6×4 inch prints, but anything larger and you’d easily see the pixelation on any lines that weren’t straight.
Every pixel on a sensor captures photons. The best analogy I’ve heard is to think of each pixel as a bucket, and each photon as a drop of water. You can put more buckets onto a large sensor but the more you cram on there, the smaller the buckets have to be. You can’t fill those small buckets with too much water without spilling it over to neighbouring buckets. And if you put 40 million buckets on a small sensor, those are going to be tiny buckets that can’t hold much water at all!
This is partly why smartphones with small sensors and 100 megapixels aren’t so good at making finely detailed photos. The light spills from tiny buckets and causes loss of detail, blown highlights, and noisy interference with neighbouring buckets. A larger camera sensor with less megapixels and bigger pixels can produce less noisy images with good detail. It’s also part of the reason why my Nikon D70, with an APS-C sized sensor and only 6.1 megapixels, produces practically noise free images up to ISO 400. That, and the fact that those CCD sensors seemed to produce a finer grained digital noise pattern that lends itself well to black and white conversion.
If only old walls could talk – Sony RX100
Glass, perceived sharpness, print size, and viewing distance
The quality of a lens also impacts the perceived detail in images. A sharp lens at the optimal F-stop, with good camera technique, can make even an old sensor with single digit megapixel counts shine. Likewise, poor optics can cause even 24 megapixel images to look mushy.
What constitutes a sharp photo? Lots of fine detail is important. But what about contrast? How about focus and blur? Big megapixel count cameras will punish average lenses and bad technique at the pixel level, as they’ll look less sharp than expected.
Here’s another thing to consider: viewing distance. The further away you are from a printed image, the less fine detail you’ll see. For example, I could print a photo from my D70 at 8×10 inches, 300 dpi, and while it would appear less sharp close-up, it could hang on my wall and look sharp enough at a normal viewing distance. I could even print at twice that size and as long as the viewer wasn’t close, the photo would look OK and certainly be recognisable. Up close, the edges would look blurry and other digital artifacts would show up. But it’s also wise to remember that there’s more to a good photo than whether you can see edge blurriness or not. An arresting image will always trump some loss of detail.
For optimally sharp prints at 8×10 inches and 300dpi, 7.2 megapixels is the minimum requirement. But remember, these are numbers for optimal sharpness, and 6.1 megapixels will still look OK when printed a bit larger because our normal viewing distance isn’t pixel peeping up close. The same applies to other megapixel counts: optimal sharpness versus actual viewing habits.
Lovely rust on blue – Sony RX100
So, what does it all mean?
If you’re looking to buy a camera, ask yourself this: what am I going to use it for? If you’re only going to share photos on the web, any digital camera since 2003 will serve you well. If you want to print the occasional photo, but you’re not looking to go much bigger than 8×10 inches, then look at cameras of at least 8 megapixels. Want the sharpest photos possible, with the most detail recorded, and you also have access to the best printers available that can actually print all that detail at poster sizes? Then you’ll be looking at cameras with at least 24 megapixels. You’ll probably need even more if you really want images with as much fine detail as possible. And that’s not to mention the cost of top quality glass!
The Flinders Ranges in South Australia is an incredibly ancient place. Fossil evidence of some of the earth’s earliest life has been found in this area. The Nikon D70 might be old, having been released in 2004, but the rocks in the Flinders could tell impossibly old stories about the formation of life! That’s some perspective!
All that’s left of the Bangor township
The Flinders Ranges is also home to many ruins and old towns that are mostly abandoned. There was once a time when settlers in the area thought that the heavy rains of the time signified that the area would be prime farming land, but they were mistaken. The rains were unusual, and the area soon returned to dryness and low annual rainfall. Disaster befell the towns and the people who had tried to carve out a life. Today, old weathered shop signs are barely readable, dust blows down quiet streets, windows reveal the dark innards of abandoned buildings, and rusty padlocks prevent entry through old doorways.
The Nikon D70
The Nikon D70 was released in 2004 and represented great opposition to the Canon 300D. It has a 6.1 megapixel CCD sensor and features a top LCD, and dedicated buttons for Bracketing, WB, Exposure Compensation, and ISO. As with most Nikon cameras, the D70 has great ergonomics and feels good in the hand.
My D70 is a recent purchase from eBay, and though I don’t know how many shutter activations it’s had, the price I paid doesn’t make it especially crucial. It came with three Compact Flash cards, a charger and battery.
Upon arrival, I noticed that it was showing the dreaded CHA error on the top LCD. After some online research, this could mean a range of things, but most often relates to a communications issue with the Compact Flash card. In my case, I’m pretty sure that the copper pins have lost much of their gold plating. As the copper oxidizes, connectivity between the camera and the Compact Flash card degrades.
I found that wiggling and pressing firmly on the inserted card fixed the error, but it may return at any time. I’ll deal with it if it happens, but the camera worked without a hitch when day-tripping around the Flinders Ranges.
Nikon D70 settings
The D70 can record Raw files, but I decided to set it to the Fine/Large JPG output only. I wanted to see what kind of processing the camera applies and how the out-of-camera JPGs look. The day was cloudy, so I left the Nikon on the Cloudy White Balance setting all day. Old user reports suggest that the AWB setting tends to be a bit inaccurate and the D70 also underexposes to protect highlights. To offset this, I set the camera to +0.3 Exposure Compensation much of the time.
I used a custom picture setting for most of the day: +1 Sharpness, 0 Tone, Adobe colours, and Enhanced Saturation. Even at a sharpening level of +1, I find that the D70 applies it too aggressively. Better to leave it at zero and then sharpen in post with a lot more control. Late in the afternoon, I chose the Vivid setting and this seemed to produce less aggressively sharpened results, but was a bit dull in terms of colour output, apart from over-saturated reds. I’ll chalk that up to the overcast day and even lighting conditions at this point.
Long-forgotten and disused – Yacka, SA
The photo above was made using the Vivid setting with Cloudy White Balance. I sharpened only a little in post, with some added contrast. I think it looks pretty good for a 6.1 megapixel sensor from 2004, and as long as you don’t crop too much, good clear prints up to 8×10 inches, and possibly 11×14, could reasonably be expected at 300 dpi.
I used a Tamron 17-55m 2.8 lens, which is a pretty good match for the old sensor. I’ve often had issues with this lens on higher resolution camera bodies, but on the D70 it does an admirable job. There were no auto-focus misses and sharpness is pretty decent across the frame at most focal lengths.
I took along my trusty little Sony RX100 as a back-up camera, just in case the D70 presented with the CHA error again. I’ll process the Raw files from it and post some examples. Needless to say, there’s a big difference between the 20 megapixel output from the Sony versus the 6.1 megapixel output of the Nikon. That said, having minimal megapixels to work with does encourage better framing and composition, since there’s not much room for cropping.
Trawling through old pictures from my RX100, I see a few that catch my eye. For some reason, I make many more contemplative and abstract photos with this camera. I think the form factor has a lot to do with it. Being able to put it in a pocket and pull it out whenever I see something interesting, without fanfare or too much technical preparation, results in a sense of ease. Consequently, I find my mind more open to the world and the image.
Reflections in glass and water are always interesting to me. The world is reflected and abstracted, turning into shards and odd shapes – a separate dimension. People walk by, unaware that their doppelgangers exist inside the glass.
I’ve always been drawn to graffiti. Humans have been engaging in the act of scrawling names, messages, and sexual innuendo for as long as we’ve been able to make a mark. The green door above, surrounded by opportunist scrawls made by urban rogues and cocksure teens, caught my eye. I also like the play of light and shadow.
Things to love about the RX100
Originally, I purchased the RX100 as a way to make great photos with a minimum of fuss. At the time, it was either the RX or the slightly older Canon Powershot S110. I’d used an older and less well-featured Powershot in the past, and I’m sure I’d also have been happy with the S110 had I decided on it at the time.
Still, the RX100 is a classic digital camera for very good reasons. The 20.2 megapixel Sony-made CMOS sensor is excellent, even now. Combined with the Zeiss-made lens, detail is superb for such a small camera. The detail in shadow areas is also well-preserved and the Raw files have plenty of latitude. The body is robust, and mine is certainly in great condition, as I’ve not used it regularly in the last ten years.
I daresay that a camera like this would suit many people who think that a larger camera is best for what they do. It’s a pity that Sony have discontinued the RX line, even if they have replaced it with the vlogger-friendly ZV line. The RX100 proves that Sony knows how to make feature-rich groundbreaking cameras. I know that I’ll be using it a lot more. Next time, I hope to try out some of my custom JPG picture settings.
When I wanted to transition from a small Canon Powershot point & shoot to a more sophisticated camera, I had two in mind: The Canon Powershot S110 or the Sony RX100. I opted for the Sony partly because it was newer than the Canon and partly because it seemed a powerful camera in a tiny and well-built body. I wasn’t disappointed.
At the time, the pocketable, all-black RX100 was considered an amazing compact camera. Even today, over a decade later, the original RX100 holds up amazingly well. The Raw files are malleable and provide plenty of editing latitude. In many ways, the Rx100 is like a DSLR in a small body, and I guess that was the point behind it.
Photo settings
I’ve not used the Rx100 too much over the years, mostly because I purchased a DSLR not too long after and moved up from there. The RX sat around for a long time but lately, I’ve fostered a new appreciation for small cameras with great output. Though I normally edit Raw files and eschew JPG output, my time is limited these days and I find myself looking much more at JPG output and useful camera settings to make my life easier.
Diving into the needlessly verbose Sony menu, I’ve added the Creative Picture modes to the Function button for easy access, alongside ISO, Metering, and Exposure Compensation. This makes it fast and easy to switch to another picture mode when out and about.
Here are my picture mode settings for the next outing:
Black & White:
Contrast +1
Sharpening +1
Standard:
Saturation +1
Sharpening +1
Contrast -2
Vivid:
Saturation -1
Sharpening +1
Fiery sunset – Sony DSC RX100
There’s no optimum setting, just a wide range of possible photographic looks. Old internet wisdom from users at the time suggest that the RX100’s JPG output requires a touch more sharpening. DRO and High ISO Noise Reduction are both turned off. Whilst DRO does effectively tackle high dynamic range situations and tames highlights and shadows, it can add more noise to shadow areas at higher ISOs, making it not so awesome for low light photography. I’m also experimenting with White Balance and have it set to AWB and +1 to Amber, so photos should look a little warmer. Some users report that there’s a tendency for the AWB to bias towards blue/green. Being able to tweak this deeply on such a small camera is still amazing, even today!
Of course, Raw is always the preferred option, so I’ve left the Sony at RAW + JPG and the 20 Megapixel image setting. This gives me the option to use the JPG if I like the output or dive into editing the Raw file if I have the time and the photo is a real keeper. We’ll see how these settings work out !
The 58mm Helios lens is one of those pieces of old glass that was made in the millions over numerous decades in shady factories in Soviet-era Russia. Rumour has it that quality control varied greatly, partly due to the unique properties of authoritarian communism and loads of freely available Vodka. What I do know is that they’re fun lenses to use, if you get a good one that hasn’t seized up due to cheap lubricating grease. Luckily, they’re also fairly easy to dismantle and clean up. In this sense, they have a certain utilitarian charm.
Modified Helios 44 lens with inherent swirls
The Helios is already known for chromatic aberrations that result in swirly bokeh with cat’s eye shaped out of focus highlights at the edges of the frame. You’ll get that mostly on larger sensors, but on my Olympus Micro Four Thirds the effect is not as noticeable. However, if you remove the front element and reverse it, the result is what you see above in the photo – softness, ghosting, and dramatic swirlies!
Ghostly flower
It’s also possible to reverse the front element in a Zenitar 50mm f2 lens, so I hear, but I don’t have one myself. The reversed lens Helios produces a look that suits colourful subjects, like flowers and botanicals, so it’s pointless if you want to preserve detail.
Red flower bokeh swirl
As you can see in the photo above, the swirl can be dramatic and really bring attention to a central subject. I admit that I haven’t used it for a while, so it might be time to try it out again.
The Rusty Ruin Journal 