When driving along the dusty Southern Flinders road into Hammond, it’s clear that it was once an important town along the formerly vital narrow-gauge rail line that fed so many settlements in the area. Whilst not completely abandoned, another decade or two may see Hammond left to the relentless heat and wind.
On the outskirts of Hammond SA – Olympus E1
I was drawn, of course, to the dilapidated ruins up the road, marking the dusty way to more ghost towns beyond. Yet another reminder that nothing is everlasting.
The E1 proved a great companion here, even on a bright sunny day. As long as I looked after the exposure compensation carefully, so as not to blow out highlights too heavily, I was rewarded with at least half a dozen photos the equal of my Nikon Z5 in all but overall size and resolution. Still, as discussed before, megapixel counts are often overrated.
A once grand entrance, Hammond SA – Olympus E1
If I have the stamina, I also pack my Z5 alongside the E1, but the bag then does tend to drag at the shoulder a little. Fortunately, such long drives into the mid-north necessitate lengthy car rides, thus allowing my shoulder to rest between destinations. As ever, my concern is for a solid shoulder-slung camera bag that allows me to pack enough gear for a comfortable day – hopefully as inexpensively as possible whilst still retaining usability and build quality. My current bag cost all of $60 AUD and allows me to pack both the Nikon Z5 and the Olympus E1, though other features are lacking, including a strap that isn’t adjustable.
Hello Trespassers! – Hammond SA – Olympus E1
The E1 still surprises me. For a camera from 2003, with limited dynamic range, it can certainly handle enough tonal range to produce some of the most attractive photos in my folders. Sure, a good subject helps a lot, but the E1 seems a good match for scenes I would have thought it would struggle with. Perhaps I’ve gelled with it to the point that I’m looking for scenes with more mid-tones and less gap between light and shadows, as this is where it shines best.
Old mysteries behind closed doors, Hammond SA – Olympus E1
Well worth the drive, if you can stand the dust and the gnawing sense of a town that has all but been forgotten. I love it, of course – the sense of melancholy is always a stern reminder of time’s vengeful movement. One interesting feature of our time there: a resident playing modern pop music loudly from inside the old town bank, drifting on the same winds scouring the bones of the empty buildings.
In my previous post, I wrote about driving through some of the towns along the Murray River. We’ve been here many times but I’ve often found myself uninspired in the photography department, though I’m not entirely sure why. Going for a day-trip with friends is always fun, but sometimes it doesn’t lend itself to me spending time fiddling with camera settings or framing scenes! This time was different though. I found myself with the trusty Olympus E-1 again and looking for the kinds of scenes that the old digital sensor can manage more easily.
Red paint and corrugated iron – Olympus E-1
There’s no substitute for time when it comes to photography, at least for me. I’m not one who clicks a thousand photos in an hour. I prefer to be as deliberate as possible. Admittedly, using an old camera like the E-1 teaches me to slow down even more to carefully consider the scene before me. That’s a good thing, I think.
Red paint and old wood – Olympus E-1
How often is it that we don’t get to slow down and really look at the world around us? How often are we pre-occupied with thoughts of the forever-gone past or the uncertain future? How often do we steal the present moment from ourselves? Once that moment is gone, it’s gone for good.
I like to think that photography has the capacity to teach us something about the hidden details of the world that are ordinarily missed. When I first started teaching myself how to use a DSLR, I turned to a practice called Contemplative Photography, or Miksang.
On such occasions, I found myself a little more in touch with both my mind and the world, with inner and outer touching at the very boundaries, one might say. At these times, there’s no judgement of a scene, just an image pressing gently on the mind, as though it leaps out of the water like a fish to be seen momentarily. There’s no setting up or messing with technology beyond what the eye sees and the press of the button. And arguably, the camera itself is not even needed to see those hidden details in the world.
All the red envelops you in this moment – Olympus E-1
The clouds are slowly dissipating after several months of grey days. This weekend provided an opportunity to drive around the vibrant towns of the Murray River. I packed my bag with the Olympus E-1, Nikon Z5, and the Sony RX100.
I continue to be impressed with the output from the old E-1, but dynamic range is limited, and careful consideration of a scene is required before clicking the shutter button, I’ve discovered.
Shadows on emerald metal – Olympus E-1
Window of opportunity
Every digital sensor (and film, of course) has a limited performance window within which it can optimally render the dynamic range of a scene. If the dynamic range (brightest and darkest areas) of a scene exceed the window, then an exposure decision must be made: crush blacks or burn highlights? Modern sensors have a bigger window, so provide more latitude. The E-1, not so much.
Scenes with plenty of mid-tones and minimal strong highlights / deep shadows are good for this camera. Evenly lit scenes are great too. With excessive tonal ranges, I usually crush blacks because it’s less distracting for the eye, but it depends on how numerous the extreme tonal ranges are and the composition I’ve decided on.
Unused, catching dust and webs – Olympus E-1
The onboard tonal response of the Olympus is contrasty. Again, great for evenly lit scenes that could use a contrast bump, but not so great for extreme tonal ranges where pushing them further causes distracting visual elements. The more I use this camera, the better I get at evaluating scenes before picking the camera up. And if I can frame a scene and limit the extreme tonal ranges, I’ll do that. I also commonly dial in some negative Exposure Compensation to protect highlights but only when I want to preserve better gradation of tone over areas where distracting highlights could be a problem. Evenly lit scenes don’t need it unless that’s the look I’m going for.
Beneath the old machine – Olympus E-1
Calibrated for the old film pros?
It’s clear to me that the RAW files from the Olympus E-1 are different to the RAW files we get from modern cameras, but I don’t think this is a CMOS or CCD issue. The native tonal response of the E-1 produces files that are already contrasty and punchy. The images on this page are essentially the RAW output with barely any editing at all.
Some people might say I should use OM Workspace to get the colour goodness from this camera, but the software remains awful to use. And the few RAW files from the E-1 I’ve loaded into OM Workspace produce much the same initial result as the Adobe Standard profile in Lightroom, though my testing isn’t extensive enough to warrant strong views.
So, back to my speculation on the punchy files from the E-1. In 2003, when the camera was released, digital photography wasn’t mainstream. It’s entirely possible that early cameras like this were internally calibrated to produce images that were as close to certain film types as possible in terms of punchiness and also required less editing in software. Remember, there wasn’t a lot of RAW editing software around at the time.
None of that means these old cameras make filmic photos, but it may explain why there seem to be differences in output compared to our modern cameras. I think this is less about the inherent properties of a CCD sensor and more about what kinds of photos the film companies wanted us to see from their cameras via internal calibrations. Now that photo editing programs are numerous and commonplace, modern cameras that have more dynamic range than the E-1 are calibrated to output flat RAW files that can easily be edited. Just speculation, of course.
I rushed out yesterday with the Olympus E-1, but it wasn’t a great photo session. The sun was out but I just didn’t see much that struck me as an interesting photo. This, of course, happens from time to time. While disappointing, it’s all part of the experience with the camera. You can’t force it.
Blue beams on blue – Olympus E-1
Despite my previous positive experiences with the E-1, this time there were no epiphanies. The sun was high and hot and controlling dynamic range with such an old camera isn’t always the easiest. There’s a point at which exposing for the highlights creates shadow noise and the in-built contrasty tone curve of this camera is a detriment at such times. Still, just look at all that blue! This camera does love plenty of blue.
So, I was left with just two photos from my session that piqued my interest. On the way home, I ran across some new house constructions and just loved the way that all the blue steel beams looked on such a sunny day.
Some days are just not going to be full of great photos. Some days, the eye just isn’t attuned. And that’s perfectly OK. I’ve learned not to worry about my mistakes and missing moments. I’ve learned that on some days the photographic mind is elsewhere and all that remains is forcing a moment. At those times, it’s best to accept the moment and look around. Not everything is for the camera.
The Olympus E-1 is quickly becoming one of my favourite cameras. There’s a certain solidity to the photos from it. The mid-tones are strong and the tone curve applied in-camera produces really attractive images. If there’s anything to the CCD versus CMOS sensor argument, the E-1 is likely one of the best arguments for CCD being inherently superior. None of this is to suggest that modern cameras can’t produce amazing images, of course.
Crystal Lake – Olympus E-1
With my time currently limited, the fact that the RAW files from the E-1 require far less editing than expected is a big positive. And I still think that people are overpaying for cameras like this. It may be a really nice camera, but it lacks many of the niceties we’ve become accustomed to on our modern cameras. The limited dynamic range can be a problem in difficult lighting conditions and there’s no Histogram or highlight blinkies to check exposure. This does lead me to more carefully consider the tonal range of a scene and whether I use ESP or Spot metering, so it’s a good thing for learning, really.
Mine also has a few issues – a missing eye-cup and the mode dial is stuck in either Program mode or Manual mode. The eyepiece is not an issue but the mode dial is frustrating. I can live with it though. It does serve to remind me that this is an old camera now and it won’t last. Yet another reason not to overpay for old tech!
Table for Three – Olympus E-1
I’d also taken out the Finepix S5600 along with the E-1 in my camera bag, but once I opened up the Finepix files at the end of the day, I was disappointed. If I hadn’t been using the E-1 all day, the Finepix would likely have pleased me enough. But looking at those photos side by side, the E-1 completely blows the Finepix out of the water.
I feel a sense of melancholy when I use the E-1 though. Olympus isn’t the company it used to be, with the imaging arm now sold off and owned by OM Digital Solutions. The E-1 is every bit a lovely camera from a different time. It was a time when digital photography wasn’t quite yet mainstream and venerable companies like Olympus were putting every effort into the new digital market – enticing film shooters with the promise of not having to pay for film development.
I can’t help but feel that the E-1 contains as much technical mojo as Olympus could pour into it. The collaboration with Kodak represents the shared vision of two traditional companies focussed on surviving in a rapidly changing photography landscape. Ultimately, neither company managed to escape a brutal market where smartphone cameras defined the new rules, with severe decline causing them either to be sold off piece by piece or handed over to new owners divorced from company tradition.
It seems that every weekend is cloudy lately, but that’s not a bad thing when you have an old camera that doesn’t handle high dynamic range scenes well. I took out the Olympus E-1 recently and found it a really interesting device – it feels great and has the gentlest shutter sound I’ve ever heard. I had another opportunity to use it yesterday and set it to record RAW and JPG. The results surprised me.
Old Methodist Church – Olympus E-1
I’ve questioned the idea of CCD sensors rendering colour differently to their CMOS counterparts, but ultimately I couldn’t be entirely sure there was nothing going on. There really shouldn’t be, as digital imaging sensors themselves are colour-blind and it’s only the Colour Filter Array atop them that could influence colour, apart from usual suspects like White Balance and lens quality.
Imagine my surprise when I found that the RAW files from the E-1 look almost identical to the JPG and TIFF outputs, apart from some extra sharpening. Normally, you’d expect RAW files to look flatter and less saturated when contrasted to processed JPGs from the same camera, but this is not so with the E-1.
Strictly No Parking – Olympus E-1
I know that Lightroom applies a colour profile to each import, of course. I know that it does some sharpening and processing up-front to create a workable image. But what I’m finding with the E-1’s RAW files is that I don’t actually need to do much additional processing at all. The RAW files already look good and don’t look as flat as you’d expect a demosaicedfile to look. So, what’s happening? Why do the E-1’s ORF files (Olympus’ naming convention for RAW files) look so similar to the processed JPGs?
Keep Clear – Olympus E-1
I have a theory – I think the E-1 is not doing much JPG processing at all, apart from some sharpening. Where we’d normally see a flat RAW image and a punchy JPG file, I suspect the E-1 is converting the ORF and applying minimal processing. This may be why the files look similar.
Please bear in mind that none of this is scientific. I’ve not sat for hours and tested side-by-side photos. I also know that processors like Lightroom make substantial changes when importing photos. I write all this knowing that it’s simple first impression and could be an error in my perceptions/technical set-up. This is a journal and sometimes my thoughts meander, so please be kind!
Restricted – Olympus E-1
Back to Kodak Colour Science
I have my doubts about CCD sensors and their supposed inherent colour superiority. As I’ve said before, there are plenty of old junk CCD cameras out there too, so it may not be a property of the CCD sensor at all. Yet, I can’t help but think that there’s something interesting happening inside the Olympus E-1. There’s no doubt that in the right lighting conditions it can produce superb images.
So far, and I may be completely wrong here, the Olympus E-1 is the only digital camera I have that even comes close to the output of my Sigma DP2 Merrill camera (now with a sticky leaf shutter, sadly). That’s high praise, considering the Sigma uses a Foveon sensor – a very different image recording technology. Of course, when I say close, the E1’s photos are still not really like the Foveon produced images, but the E1 does have the feel of needing to be treated like a camera with old slide film loaded, where you have to really look after wide tonal ranges.
Old town waterways – Olympus E-1 with Zuiko 14-42 mm kit lens
It’s not as though my E-1 sports a spectacular lens that makes the photos look great. It’s the old Four-Thirds system Zuiko kit lens – 14-42 mm 3.5 to 5.6. Not that Zuiko lenses are poor at all, as even the so-called kit lenses are truly respectable. So, is there some Kodak colour science happening here? At the very least, it looks like a tone curve is being applied to create a punchier image and this is translated to the demosaicing process. I really don’t know what it is, but I’m certainly happy to keep using this camera. It may not replace my faulty Sigma, but it’s very satisfying to use.
There’s no place quite like Coober Pedy. Long-known as one of the major opal capitals of the world, Coober is also a town where some people go to disappear from mainstream society. Others try their luck at opal mining, desperate to hit the jackpot and retire. Some do and the majority don’t. It’s tough work out there in the heat, underground, drilling into the sediments of an ancient seabed. There’s always someone to buy any opal finds at the end of the day and always someone who’s at the end of their luck.
Abandoned by the hole – Nikon Z5
The first time I visited Coober, I was 15 or 16 years old. I remember it being a pretty rough frontier-type settlement, with dust in the air and people living underground, away from the stifling heat of summer. I also remember walking around, unaware that I was trespassing on someone’s land, and a lady suddenly emerging from a hole in the ground with a shotgun in hand. She wasn’t too keen on opal thieves it turns out. Lucky for us, we were just clueless tourists.
Sunset scorch – Olympus EM5 Mark 2 with 16mm Zenitar Fisheye lens
Out around Coober Pedy, they recorded parts of the Mad Max films. If you’re familiar with those movies, you’ll appreciate that this ancient landscape provides the perfect post-apocalyptic backdrop. There’s an eerie beauty to the Australian outback and I love those places where there’s no-one for miles around.
Mechanical digger – Olympus EM5 Mark 2 with Zenitar 16mm Fisheye lens
When the Olympus E-1 was introduced in 2003, it was the first time a company had designed a camera exclusively for digital photography from the ground up. And the Olympus E-1 was, in every way, a camera designed for the pro digital photographer. Not only is it the best feeling camera I’ve ever held, it also features a dampened shutter sound that has been described by some as a soft hug. The sweet mechanical kiss of the, clearly over-engineered, shutter mechanism adds positively to the experience of using this chunky and well-made device.
Beyond grassy edges – Olympus E-1
Kodak Colour Science?
There’s some thought that the Kodak-made CCD digital sensor in the E-1 has some magical properties that produce amazing photos and amazing colour. It’s hard to comment on that, as I haven’t enough experience with it yet. However, I’m pretty certain that Olympus tweaked the on-board software to make some great looking photos so as to appeal to the professional film shooters of 2003 who were stubbornly holding onto their film stocks.
The photo above does look good after editing the TIFF file in Lightroom, and I didn’t need to do a lot of editing at all. You’ll see that highlights are easily burned out, so using negative Exposure Compensation to protect those highlights is a must-do in certain kinds of light. I recorded in-camera to TIFF format just to see if I could recover more detail from shadows and highlights. I was certainly successful at recovering plenty of shadow detail so it’s best to expose for the highlights and recover the shadows later.
Mostly in shadow – Olympus E-1
The Olympus E-1 is a very satisfying camera to use, and that’s mostly down to the ergonomics. Sporting a weather-sealed, thick magnesium-alloy body, the E-1 absolutely feels like a pro camera. Mine came with the old 14-45mm kit lens and it’s certainly a pretty good performer. They really don’t make cameras like this anymore!
It’s clear that Olympus threw everything at this camera and likely hoped it would attract the pro film crowd over to their Four-Thirds digital system. This makes me wonder what we’re really paying for these days when we spend thousands on a camera body and it’s not even built to the same specifications as this old E-1! Not that this camera was cheap at the time.
Built to the edge – Olympus E-1
Is the magic real?
In some ways, it doesn’t much matter if the Kodak sensor has some inherent superior colour properties or not. The E-1 is just a joy to use. That’s as long as you don’t mind limited dynamic range, and the need to protect highlights and do some editing. The camera does churn out some great looking photos and I look forward to trying it in many more scenarios. And lastly, no other shutter sounds this gentle!
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.
The Rusty Ruin Journal 