Showing posts with label Banff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Banff. Show all posts

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Canadian Rockies gear recap, volume 2

This is the second installment in a series evaluating the utility of photographic gear I took on vacation to Banff National Park and the surrounding area. In this installment, I’ll focus on the camera and lenses proper.

  • Pentax K-5 II: A. My APS-C DSLR performed admirably throughout the trip. It is relatively compact for its capabilities, and I love the 16 MP Sony sensor. It has a ton of dynamic range and is very forgiving in terms of exposure. The autofocus generally performed well on the trip.

As far as lenses go, I thought it would be instructive to figure out what percentage of my shots from the trip were taken with each lens. The table below lists the totals for each lens. The “keepers” are taken to be the images in my gallery from the trip.

Lens % of all exp. (n=1,079) % of keepers (n=63)
Sigma 10–20 mm f/4–5.6

20%

17%

Pentax DA 16–45 mm f/4

18%

27%

Pentax FA 50 mm f/1.4

0%

0%

Tamron 70–200 mm f/2.8 Di  Macro

31%

44%

Pentax FA 100 mm f/2.8 Macro

1%

0%

Pentax DA* 300 mm f/4

29%

11%


  • Sigma 10–20 mm f/4–5.6: A−. The Rocky Mountain landscape is made for ultrawides. If you’re going and don’t have one, at least consider renting one for the trip. This lens gets a slight grade reduction because it’s soft in the corners, with noticeable field curvature and astigmatism. Pricier options like the Sigma 10–20 mm f/3.5, Sigma 8–16 mm f/4.5–5.6, or Pentax 12–24 mm f/4 might yield better results, but I still consider my lens to be a great value.
  • Pentax DA 16–45 mm f/4: A−. This versatile lens saw a great deal of use on the trip, and in the overlap region with the 10–20 mm, I prefer the 16–45 mm. It also gets a light grade reduction because I think there’s something amiss with my copy, which I didn’t appreciate before the trip. The left and right edges are noticeably soft at all apertures, with the right side being worse than the left. I may send it in for servicing this winter.
  • Pentax FA 50 mm f/1.4: C. It’s a great lens, but I don’t think I ever mounted it on this trip. The zooms were more versatile, and I didn’t have any need for the fifty’s speed. At least it’s small and light.
  • Tamron 70–200 mm f/2.8 Di  Macro: A+. This was a last-minute purchase before the trip, and my gut feeling during the trip was that I could have lived without it. But looking at the images when I got home, I realized that was a totally wrong impression. This lens was a superstar, a wise purchase and great value. Tack-sharp and versatile, I used it to isolate the scenery and create intimate compositions. It was also a good choice for much of the wildlife that we encountered.
  • Pentax FA 100 mm f/2.8 Macro: D. I only used this lens to photograph a couple of moths to show my dad. I just didn’t shoot much macro on this trip, and the close-focus capabilities (and fine image quality) of the 70–200 mm would have sufficed. Though modestly sized, it’s a heavy lens, and just didn’t earn its spot on this trip.
  • Pentax DA* 300 mm f/4: B. An excellent lens, I expected to use it a great deal for wildlife and birds. But I shot few birds, and the 70–200 mm was generally a more versatile choice for wildlife.
  • Tamron 1.4x Pz-AF MC4 teleconverter: B−. I’m not sure if I used this at all; if I did, it wasn’t that much. But, it might make sense to leave the big 300 mm at home, and use the teleconverter with the 70–200 mm when necessary.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Canadian Rockies gear recap, volume 1

My June 2014 trip to the Canadian Rockies was the first time that I needed to travel by air with a large amount of photographic equipment. In the aftermath of the trip, I wanted to reflect on which items “earned” their space on the trip, and which I could have left at home. This series of posts collects my thoughts on the topic.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Gallery: Canadian Rockies

Over the course of the past couple of months, I’ve been posting photos from my recent trip to Banff National Park and surroundings. The gallery is now complete, and I invite you to enjoy it.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

You only get one shot.


Ash Wednesday

I used to race in autocross, a form of motorsport where you race against the clock on a short, but challenging, temporary course marked by traffic cones in a parking lot. You get to walk the course on foot, then you get three full-speed driving runs, and the fastest of those determines your place in the standings.

Over the course of a few years, against strong competition, I gradually improved from abysmal to mediocre. On a good day, I might finish mid-pack. But I noticed one thing: I usually improved a lot from my first run to my third. And on practice days, where we might get 10 or 15 runs on the same course, I would keep improving all day, and end up fairly close to the top drivers.

The best drivers were better than me by any measure, but I think the biggest component to their success was that on their first run, seeing the course at speed for the first time, they could drive at nearly their best. It took me a lot longer; I had to work up to it.

In photography, I feel like I shoot the same way that I drove. When I review my shots in Lightroom, I usually find that my best shot of a subject is at the end, after a bunch of awkward approaches. For most of what I shoot, that’s not a problem, per se, but it gave me inspiration for this year’s Lenten project. Like my first project two years ago, I think it can be helpful to impose constraints on yourself, to develop your skills. So from now until Easter, my plan is each day to take one shot—and only one shot. One exposure per day.

I’m not saying that’s a good way to work—for me it will almost certainly yield worse results than normal. But I think it could be a useful effort, forcing me to slow down and think about whether everything is just right.

This summer, I’ll be going on vacation to Banff, and the photographic opportunities excite me. With limited time in good light each day, I want to make sure I’m thinking clearly and not wasting my chances. And so, for better or worse, here we go.