I’ve been having interestingly contradictory thoughts recently. On one hand, all kinds of disasters are looming. On the other hand, the largest percentage of my consciousness is preoccupied with transforming karmic substance from global sources. And on the third hand, I’m preoccupying myself with various things in order not to go crazy. So, apparently, it’s photography’s turn now. The weather here on Hvar is gloomy and not really conducive to creating colourful imagery at the moment, so I’m doing what I can and shooting black and white gloomy stuff:

The new A7RV camera and the FE 100-400mm GM lens are in the mail and should be here in a day or two, and then I’ll be able to say what I think about them, but honestly, it’s not like I’ve seen any telephoto motives lately. It’s the most dour part of what passes for winter on the normally sunniest Adriatic island. So, I’ve been walking with A7II and the Zeiss 16-35mm, and I really like the results.

Speaking of which, what made me upgrade to the A7RV? Essentially, it’s not that I really planned it much. I looked into the recent developments in photo equipment, and by “recent” I mean the last 8 years or so, and I was amazed at how far some things progressed. So, when I decided to go for the telephoto lens, I also decided it’s time for a camera upgrade, because if something manages to impress me, it’s really good. Ignoring the cameras that specialise in video at all cost, and speed at all cost, I wanted something that had the best resolution and dynamic range I can get on the 35mm Sony platform, and also the fastest, smartest autofocus. This narrowed it down to A1II (50MP) and A7RV (60MP), which I already found super impressive earlier, and I decided that for my specific case of “photographic quality first” the A7RV is slightly better, and the fact that it was also less expensive didn’t hurt. I was considering the older model too, the A7RIV, because it has the same sensor and thus the same image quality, but eventually decided against it because all the other electronics were seriously improved on the newer model. Also, the new model gives me the option to shoot 26MP RAW in cases where I don’t need resolution greater than what I already have now, which is a good option to have because it saves storage, and if I’m shooting hand-held closeups where most of the image is blurred out, 26MP is already an overkill, because the super-resolution files are something I would need for shots with lots of high-frequency detail, such as wide-angle landscapes, that would benefit most from being printed large. So, this versatility appealed to me, because it’s not like my current camera suddenly became outdated with its 24MP; I fully intend on using it as a second body for the wide-angle in cases where the A7RV is married to the telephoto. Anything I take with it can be printed quite large, and in other respects (meaning colour and the dynamic range) it should be identical to the new body.

PS. the new acquisitions arrived:

On the left, the A7II with the 16-35mm Zeiss. On the right, the new A7RV with the FE 100-400mm GM. Everything works, but other than configuring and cleaning them I didn’t have a chance to do much, since it’s a nice day finally and fresh fish arrives on Wednesday, so something had to be done about that. 🙂

The first experiences are that the grip on the new camera is more comfortable and bigger, which was one of the main problems with the old one. Also, the AF seems as fast as on the EOS 3, from what I could see; everything is exactly as heavy as I calculated from the online numbers, but manageable. The birbs are very quick and mostly hidden in the trees so I couldn’t score any quick wins, but that is not unexpected. The fish was tasty.

There are all sorts of misconceptions about image quality in digital photography. For instance, people commonly believe that the resolution, or the number of megapixels, define image quality.

I’ll illustrate this with a screenshot from dpreview’s comparometer:

As you can tell, the top left image is from Sony A7II, the one I’ve been using since 2016. The bottom left is from the one I just ordered, the Sony A7RV. The top right is from the Canon 5d, the camera I’ve been using since 2006 and which Biljana was using until very recently. The bottom right is from the Pentax 645Z, the medium format camera.

As you can tell, other than some white balance differences, they are all basically the same image with different amounts of magnification. This means that the difference in resolution determines how big you can print the image without perceivable loss of fine detail.

This means that doubling of the resolution means that the image is printable on double the paper size, and we happen to have a standard of paper size measurements, in fact two, A and B:

Basically, every larger size (smaller number) is produced by mirroring the smaller size along the longer side, thus doubling the surface.

If, for example, a 12.7MP image from Canon 5d can produce a high quality B2 print (which I have done), an image of double the resolution, 24-26MP, can produce a B1 print of same apparent quality. This, of course, assumes that everything else, like noise and the amount of actual resolution measured in line pairs, scales equally.

Other than printability on large paper sizes, image quality is not affected by sensor resolution. There are, however, several other factors that determine image quality: noise, color depth, and dynamic range. Noise is obvious – it can degrade the image in appearance if it is excessive. Dynamic range is also easy to understand – it’s the ability to resolve greater number of brightness levels. In essence, one ev (exposure value, or aperture value) is twice the amount of light. With every ev of dynamic range, there’s a 100% increase in the level of brightness. This means that the dynamic range is 2 to the power of n, the same way binary numbers are defined by the bit depth of the variable type; 8-bit means 256 possible values, 16-bit means 65536 and so on. Today’s sensors can resolve over 14 ev of dynamic range, where slide film resolved 5 ev, and best BW and color negative emulsions resolved 10 ev. This means that everything above 10 ev is excellent, but using it in a real picture might require tonal compression in processing.

Color depth, however, is somewhat less clear as parameters of image quality go, but I would define it the same way I would dynamic range, because it’s the same thing: the ability to define gradient of primary colors, where every pixel is defined by three binary components of certain bit depth, for red, green and blue. 8-bit color depth means a color gradient of 256 shades for each of the 3 components. 16-bit color depth means 65536 shades for each of the 3 components, and so on; again, it’s the 2 to the n-th power. Of course, the ability to convert a signal from the sensor into a n-bit format doesn’t mean there’s actuall n-bits of data in the source, assuming the analog to digital converter doesn’t introduce its own issues. You can read the analog data from a small smartphone sensor into the 16-bit numberspace, but there won’t be 16 bits of color data in there. So, the ability to define discrete shades of colors across the large dynamic range is what differentiates between sensors with “thin” and “thick” colors. The difference in color depth is visible at any image size and is much more important for the perception of image quality than resolution, which only becomes relevant when you enlarge the image. So, the luminance and chrominance dynamic range is what defines the number of brightness levels and color tones a sensor can capture. When we introduce the noise, which contaminates both luminance and chrominance data, we get all the parameters of image quality.

So, what does this mean, translated to the world of actual cameras? It means that the pictures from my current A7II and A7RV will look exactly the same, unless I decide to print over a meter wide, in which case the A7RV images will look more detailed if you come so close that you no longer perceive the whole picture. As for the color depth and dynamic range, there will be no perceivable difference, because both cameras are extremely capable.

The difference is that the autofocus on the new A7RV is extremely capable, while the autofocus on the A7II is rudimentary and unable to deal with things that move. Also, the viewfinder on the A7II is adequate, while the viewfinder on the A7RV is excellent, which contributes nothing to the image quality, but should reduce my eye strain significantly, which matters to me since my eyes are not what they used to be. Also, the fact that A7RV has 60 MP resolution means that it has 26MP of resolution within the APS-C circle, which means I can magnify the telephoto range by the factor of 1.5x and still retain the same print size that I have on the A7II, which is a much more tangible functional difference than the ability to print larger than a meter in width, which I almost never do. The ability to turn 400mm of range into 600mm is extremely useful.

Now for the drawbacks. The old camera is free since I already own it, while the new camera cost 3500 € used. This is a significant cost, since all of my lenses probably cost less than that; alternatively, I could get several GM grade lenses for that amount of money. This means that I needed to have very good reasons for the upgrade. Also, the new camera produces bigger files, and more of them because it’s faster, which means greater requirements on memory cards and storage drives, not to mention computer processing power. My computers and storage drives are already adequate, but I had to buy an extremely expensive cf-express memory card, which is a NVMe gen-3 1 lane drive. Yes, they now have memory cards that are NVMe drives, because apparently you need that in order to record video and clear the buffer quickly. In essence, all the drawbacks are a matter of money, while all the benefits are a matter of user comfort and the ability to actually get the kind images that I otherwise wouldn’t be able to get, for instance by turning a 400mm 35mm system into a 600mm APS-C system temporarily and tracking a bird in flight so accurately that its closer eye is continuously kept in focus.

I love the 16-35mm Zeiss. Since I bought it, I had a burst of creativity with it, making a deluge of wide-angle shots that look as if they were queued up somewhere for years. Its perfect image quality helps, since everything turns out as I envision it, as long as I keep the flare in check.

Which makes me think: why didn’t I get it before? I knew that I wanted it, since 2016 when I bought the Sony camera. It was kind of expensive, that’s true, and I already had the 17-40mm Canon which is very similar, and I used it with an adapter. But since Biljana used it so much with her Canon system, I very rarely shot anything with a wide-angle anymore, and it was not a good thing. I should have bought the Zeiss earlier, but I was putting all the money into gold, and I cut all the “unnecessary spending”, which included photography.

I think that was a mistake, however. To me, photography equipment is not just another gadget that essentially does nothing, like a fancy watch. It’s a creative instrument, something that allows me to produce and develop my photography. Similarly, a computer is not a gadget, it’s an extension of my mind. I was, however, smart enough not to skimp on computers – that’s something I use every day, and if there’s something wrong with how it works, I feel it. I think I put a pause on photographic spending quite a while ago, when I was broke and in debt, and I basically just used what I had, and this continued as things got better; I simply didn’t revisit the concept, and I had other things on my mind as well. But then, the reaction I had when I recently bought the 50mm f/1.8, and much more when I got the Zeiss, pretty much surprised me, because I didn’t expect that kind of a creative outburst connected with getting the equipment I needed, because I thought it would be like getting some gadget that does nothing and you get tired of it soon and don’t even notice that it’s there. No; this is not like getting a new car when you already had a decent car; it’s like getting a car when you didn’t have a car and you really needed it, but you kept arguing against it to yourself – cars are expensive, they are just another thing to worry about, you’re better off without it, the less things you have the better and so on, and then you finally get the car and the whole world of possibility opens up before you. Suddenly new places are in reach, and when you go to those places you find out whole new things that open up your mind to things you didn’t think of before. In this case, it’s things that were in my mind but I couldn’t create pictures from them because I didn’t have the adequate gear.

And then I decided: fuck it, I’m going to get the rest of the stuff I know I need, but I kept myself from getting because it’s expensive, and I was being rational with money. I’m getting the FE 100-400mm GM and the A7RV body. Something clicked – buying the gear you use for creative purposes isn’t excessive spending or buying gadgets you projected desires into, only for it to become empty and meaningless a week after you bought it. It’s more like respect being paid to important things in your life, and if you don’t, it’s going to die from neglect. It’s not just relationships with other people that need respect in order to flourish, it’s also parts of your own life – ability to write, create visual art, and so on. Also, there’s a difference between stupid ideas like “if I only had that lens/camera, I’d be taking better pictures”, and “if I only had a wide-angle lens, I could take the wide-angle composition that I have queued-up in my head”. The latter is actually a manifestation of a genuine creative impulse.

I’ve been thinking about the telephoto shots I took with borrowed equipment, and it’s not like I don’t want to take that kind of pictures. It’s just that I didn’t have the money for it, because telephoto photography is one of the most expensive technical parts of the craft, and even when I did have the money, I still blocked it off – nah, that’s a money pit, let’s just steer clear. At some point, this stopped being financially responsible and realistic thinking, and became a sign of disrespect to myself.

I’ve been going through my library of old photos and thinking.

Before 2006, I’ve been using standard zoom lenses by default, and when you ask people why those lenses are good, they will tell you it’s because they are universal, and allow you to take all kinds of pictures – from landscapes to portraits and details and so on. However, when I look at my photos taken with Olympus E-1 and the ZD 14-54mm standard zoom, over 90% of them conform to the pattern of “extend to 54mm, aperture wide open”. I was not a “diverse” photographer at all, and in fact I could have used the ZD 50mm f/2 macro instead of the standard zoom, without any adverse effects. Even then, I was very specialised for isolation-based closeups, and from what I can tell, I produced very “mature” work in that area. I knew what I was doing and the results turned out the way I wanted them:

However, there was a reason why I used the lens almost exclusively at 54mm: I didn’t know anything about shooting landscapes, or wide angle anything in general. It’s not that I didn’t try, but the results were crap, in a sense that I couldn’t control the scene in such a way that would capture the feeling of calm stillness that I learned to capture with closeups. When I think of it, I tried to follow a formulaic approach for shooting landscapes, and the images sucked. Also, when I would use wide angle, the scene felt cluttered and full of distractions that created something that was the exact opposite of what I did with closeups. Also, the 5MP camera lacked the level of detail that would be required for a wide angle landscape shot in which everything is supposed to be sharp.

And then I decided I’m going to learn landscape. It certainly was a learning curve; my early attempts were crap, until the point I was reviewing the Olympus ultra-wideangle, the ZD 7-14mm f/4, and at some point it clicked: I stopped trying to remove things from the scene in order to simplify it. I embraced the chaos in the scene and just arranged it into a flow. When I think about it now, it’s not that I learned to use wide angle; rather, I changed my attitude towards Chaos as a principle, by no longer trying to eliminate everything chaotic and thus create order, and instead felt the wild spin of the Chaos in a scene and freeze a moment that feels right.

It took me years to get comfortable with the concept of infinite depth of field, chaos, suggested motion, people in the frame, random things in the frame, non-obvious composition, and, sometimes, intentional motion blur. But, how else do you take a portrait with a fisheye lens in dense woods? 🙂

I must admit that the technique required me to pretty much abandon my usual style and methodology, and initially the equipment more-less dictated what I did; essentially, the camera took the pictures it wanted to take. It took me a while to first control the process, then get comfortable with it, and eventually extend my style through it. At some point, wide angle shots I took started looking as just my normal stuff, and that’s when I became happy with it. Even if it’s not nature, and if it’s black and white.