Exploring the Nikon Z5

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.

Flower fantasy with the Helios 44-2

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.

Rubble and ruin on the side of the road

I find old ruins fascinating. The real treasure is discovering an abandoned home, off the beaten track, weathered and worn and open to the elements. I wonder who lived there and what they did? I wonder how it came to be abandoned? There were once people in such places, living lives and making memories, and all that remains is rubble and broken space.

What was once a life – 35mm Super Takumar 3.5 on Olympus OMD EM5 Mark II

A fascination with ruins isn’t uncommon. Walking through the rubble and detritus of buildings that were once important to someone is a way of connecting to the past and also reminding ourselves that time moves forward relentlessly. All things begin and end. And we must find joy in the experience of living whilst we can, if we can. Not all lives are equal, it’s worth remembering.

The old green room – 35mm Super Takumar on Olympus OMD EM5 Mark II.

Ruins remind us that everything changes, whatever we do. Next to the behemoth of time, we’re vastly small. In some way this is a comforting thought, as even wars and bad governments will fall to the ravages of time in a way that no person, however rich and powerful, can avert. No doubt, this is a terrifying thought to people who can’t bear the reality that their power and influence will fade, and their lives will be forgotten completely.

Nature’s reclamation

Ozymandias, one of my favourite Shelley poems, provides insight into the eventual ruination of once-powerful empires:

I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

Down the Port with the SMC Super Macro Takumar 50mm

I’ll admit that I’ve never been a photographic specialist. I’m not into landscapes or portraits or macros, as much as I’m just into photography in general. Having a niche is great, but it doesn’t really satisfy my curiosity much and I’d rather just make photos of whatever I feel like.

So, when I see a much-vaunted SMC Macro Takumar f4 50mm at a good price, I’m curious about its potential as more than just a macro lens. At this, it clearly excels, especially on the Olympus OMD EM5 Mark 2, where the Micro Four Thirds sensor uses the best and sharpest part of old 35mm lenses: the centre.

SMC Super Macro Takumar and all the glorious detail – down at Port Adelaide

The photo above is not at kiss the insect level of close-up, but you can see how much detail the glass picks up. It’s a fine pairing with the modern sensor in this camera. It’s probably best at these close distances, but I was also surprised at how optimised this version of the lens is at further distances. I believe it was tweaked in later versions to be better in this regard.

The marina at sunset

The big downside at longer distances, especially on a smaller camera, is handling. The Takumar has a long focus-throw. This makes it great for macro focussing, but a little painful at regular distances. Ergonomic in this context it is not, and more than once I found myself getting annoyed. Still, just look at the detail. Hardly the fault of the lens, as it was made specifically for sharp macro photos.

Shipping containers at sunset

What looked earlier to be a distinctly plain sunset turned out to be a wonderful one, full of colour and vibrance. The Takumar proves that it’s more than just a lens for macro photography, if you’re prepared for the ergonomics.

Watch the shutter speed – a hike with the Finepix S7000

OK, I pushed it today. I really did. And it didn’t really work. I should have known better, but I like to risk it sometimes. What am I risking? A blurry photo in conditions that should attract higher ISO/wider apertures.

The S7000 came with us for a hike today. The weather wasn’t great for old cameras with visible noise at what would be considered only moderate ISO ranges these days. The S7000 operates at a base ISO of 200, which is already a touch noisy. Add in a few rain drizzles and heavily overcast skies, and the problems become apparent.

I managed a few decent macro shots at lower than ideal shutter speeds, one of which is pictured above. What I noticed was that even on the F-chrome picture setting, the JPG output was decidedly dull. It lacked any punch or saturation, even in the greens. I’ll put that down to the overcast day and the even lighting conditions. At the very least, the clouds enabled some nice detail in macro photos.

Admittedly, I did add some Clarity, Vibrance, and Texture in Lightroom for these photos, but nothing overboard. I’m fortunate that the teeny 1/1.7 inch sensor is fairly forgiving of movement, as my shutter speeds just weren’t fast enough for most of the hike. This is because I really didn’t want to push to ISO 400 for fear of noise. Still, I should have widened the aperture more often. Perhaps I’m just too used to any form of stabilisation in my cameras.

Overall, a bit of a down day with the Finepix S7000. Today was as disappointing as last time was surprising. I’m pleased enough with the three photos that worked though. Looking at them now, they’re quite pleasant. My favourite is the arrangement of tree branches. I should certainly know better, of course, and I didn’t adapt. I was stubborn about my approach.

I suppose today just wasn’t the day for it. Next time I may take out the Sony RX100 and flip that to Vivid picture mode. No doubt, Sony’s sensor would handle a day like today with sufficient aplomb. I did also have my Olympus OMD EM5II with me, but it was the Finepix that I wanted to use, given the success I had the first time.

What did I learn today?

  • Older cameras like this love a lot more light,
  • Always watch shutter speed,
  • Even when I think I can hold steady, watch the shutter speed!
  • Be more flexible in my photographic approach,
  • Don’t be too hard on myself because there’s nothing wrong with learning and experimenting.