Sunday, 11 March 2018

Vivitar 75-205mm f/3.8

As a kid I remember being very disappointed with fantasy fiction. The possibilities were endless, and yet the books were all the same. For a genre born of the imagination the works of Terry Brooks and the Dragonlance series etc seemed surprisingly unimaginative. They were essentially soap operas with elves and paladins, and in the latter case Mormonism.

If the Dragonlance books had made a point of contrasting the arbitrary nature of fantasy fiction with the supposedly God-created tenets of organised religion they might have been edgy, but in practice the Mormonism was just a worldbuilding shortcut. Dragonlance wasn't even part of a sinister plot to brainwash people into becoming Mormons, it was just a Dungeons and Dragons project published because, in the words of Wikipedia, "[TSR's] marketing department felt they had enough dungeons, but not enough dragons."

As I grew older I realised that the situation was more complicated than it seemed. The world had no shortage of imaginative fantasy fiction, it's just that the local libraries and bookshops didn't stock it in the Fantasy section, they stocked it in the Fiction section under M for Gabriel García Márquez and E for Umberto Eco and C for Angela Carter and [insert more examples here; just google "magical realist top authors nobel" or something - ed].

Upper-case-F Fantasy fiction was part of a genre, constrained by convention just as Detective fiction and Star Trek tie-in novels were constrained; in contrast genuinely imaginative, grown-up fantasy fiction was just fiction, because it was free. Aren't italics wonderful? When I use them, I sound like an intellectual, as if I was having a conversation with you in a relatively quiet coffee shop. Every time I use italics imagine that I am gesturing with my hands while smoking a cigarette, and you're wondering if I'm going to drop ash into my meal or knock something off the table. In which case did I knock it off the table because I'm expressive, or was it a ploy to attract attention? And yet you are magnetically attracted to me because I am special.

"A crab with a skill for making pizza turns to his pizza-making coworker Taylor, but drops a tray of oversized party pizza, shattering his brittle legs"

Genre fiction has always been subject to a form of ghettoisation whereby anything that attracts favourable reviews by mainstream critics is no longer genre fiction, even if it is; instead it becomes allegory or surrealism or a phrase that hasn't caught on yet. Thus for a very brief period in the 1990s Anne Rice was not a fantasy author, or even a horror author, she was instead a credible mainstream novelist and people took her seriously, boop the snoot pitter-patter negative triangulation going to have a look at the Vivitar 75-205mm f/3.8 because someone has to. A short look because it's an awkward lens.

The colours benefit from post-processing.

What is the Vivitar 75-205mm f/3.8? It's a constant-aperture manual focus telephoto zoom lens from the mid-late 1970s stroke early 1980s. As with all Vivitar lenses it's a rebranded import; the original was made in Japan by Kino Precision. Vivitar sold two versions of the lens, one with separate zoom and focus controls and a later model with a single pushy-pully twisty-turny zoom/focus ring. Mine is the second model.

Physically and optically the 75-205mm f/3.8 is very similar to the Tokina-made Vivitar 70-210mm f/3.5 Series 1. My theory is that they were built to the same optical specification, and the only real difference is that the numbers on the nameplate are rounded differently; perhaps the Kino lens was Vivitar's Plan B in case Tokina couldn't deliver.

Vignetting wide open at 205mm and then f/8.

My 75-205mm is an Olympus OM lens, although I used it on a Canon 5D MkII with an adapter. It's decently sharp in the middle wide open from 75-150mm, dropping off from 150-205mm; it has oddly "gritty" colours; there's a bit of barrel distortion at 75mm and noticeable pincushion at 205mm. Although I didn't do any rigorous tests my subjective impression is that the Vivitar 70-150mm f/3.8 I wrote about last year is optically slightly better, and of course much smaller. On an APS-C camera the 75-205mm would be a long 100-300mm, and I imagine it might be pretty good if you stopped down a tad but very hard to focus through an APS-C camera's viewfinder.

At least in the very middle sharpness at 205mm is decent, but marred by purple fringing which largely disappears at f/8. Not necessarily a problem given that this is essentially a fair weather outdoors lens.

The edges improve although are still far from razor-sharp, but then again I *am* shooting through a couple of miles of turbulent air, and this is a tiny crop. There's a bit of green-blue-purple CA.

The same crop as above, shot at f/8, but with CA correction and some sharpening in Photoshop. This was taken at ISO 400 with noise reduction turned right down. Let us not speak of the corners.

As was the fashion at the time the 75-205mm was sold as a quasi-macro lens. It doesn't have a special macro mode, it just focuses very closely, down to around 1:4 life-size. Just for fun here's my Mamiya C33 at the minimum focus distance, 205mm, f/11:

The 75-205mm is surprisingly sharp up close but suffers from purple fringing, and of course the depth of field is tiny, here shown at f/3.8 and then f/11:

I said awkward. It's a push-pull-twisty-turny telephoto zoom with a fairly loose focusing control. Autofocus was invented for telephoto lenses and basically killed off manual focus telephoto zooms; you can still buy manual focus prime lenses today, because they're classy, but no-one sells a manual focus telezoom any more.

For video use it's a non-starter for any number of reasons, not least because it's varifocal. Perhaps if you hanker for the desaturated, heavily vignetted, watery look of 1970s zoom lens cinematography it might work, but even then it's not zoomy enough to recreate the likes of Barry Lyndon or those lesbian vampire films with Brigitte Lahaie. Or those godawful films by Tinto Brass where he just zooms the lens in and out and cuts between shots at random. If you want to make a lesbian vampire film you'll need to get hold of a bunch of naked virgins and a castle, and that's difficult - in fact you'll have exactly the same problems that made life hard for real-life vampires.

Also fake blood. As a consequence the 75-205mm f/3.8 and its ilk are widely available cheaply on eBay and in second-hand shops across the land because no-one wants them. The 75-205mm f/3.8 was one of about half a dozen telephoto zooms sold by Vivitar with a similar specification; it appears to be less common than the others. Of course nowadays your digital SLR probably came with a decent-but-slow telephoto zoom lens and both Nikon and Canon will sell you reasonably-priced, very sharp, autofocus 70-200mm f/4 lenses with or without image stabilisation, the end. And also, yes, as a full-frame 35mm lens it will adapt for mirrorless cameras, but it would be incredibly unbalanced and I dread to think how you would hold it comfortably.

Saturday, 24 February 2018

Samyang 35mm T1.5 / f/1.4

Let's have a look at the Samyang 35mm T1.5. It's a fast wideangle full-frame lens from Samyang of Korea, available in a wide variety of lens mounts, although for this article I stuck it onto a Canon 5D MkII. The T1.5 is the cine version of the Samyang 35mm f/1.4 but with a slightly different body. Optically it's the same, so all the information in this review applies to both versions of the lens. I wrote this review while listening to Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith's Ears on repeat. For more examples of images I have shot with this lens my review of Pink Floyd: Their Mortal Remains was brought to you by this lens.

You and I know T-stops, but for the benefit of casual readers an f-stop is the ratio between the diameter of the maximum aperture of the lens and its focal length such that an f/1.4 lens has an aperture that's twice the diameter of an f/2.8 lens and bear in mind that the diameter expands in two dimensions so f/2.8 is actually two stops slower than f/1.4 whereas a T-stop is (looks it up) a T-stop is a measurement of the Transmittance of the lens expressed as the f-stop minus the percentage of light lost during transmission through the lens breathe in. Got that? It's an f-stop with a tiny bit shaved off to account for the light loss of all the glass and glass-air interfaces inside the lens.

At f/1.4.

The T-stop is always slightly slower than the f-stop because we live in an imperfect world where everything is broken and wrong. For coated prime lenses the difference is usually tiny. It starts to mount up with complex zoom lenses that have several elements and becomes a major problem with lenses that have non-standard optical paths, such as soft-focus lenses and mirror lenses. The famous Minolta/Sony 135mm f/2.8 STF for example has a T-value of T4.5 because the built-in neutral density filter saps a lot of light; macro lenses lose light because the image circle is spread-out at macro ranges, and mirror lenses lose light because it reflects off the mirror surfaces.

The lens is massive, roughly the same size as a 16-35mm f/2.8 full-frame zoom lens. Think of the Leica 35mm f/1.4 Summilux and then imagine the opposite of that.
It's plastic, lighter than it looks; it doesn't rattle. The T1.5 cine version has a smooth, geared focus ring, which is fine handheld, and a declicked aperture.
In this image the lens is at the infinity hard stop, which isn't quite at the infinity mark. Mine is a native EOS mount lens.
There are no electronic connections. The Nikon stills version of the lens has auto-aperture, but otherwise you have to stop the lens down manually. It's a bit like using those old preset aperture lenses from the 1960s - you have to focus and then twist down the aperture until the shutter speed is at a value that pleases you.

The filter thread is plastic. The front element moves back and forth inside the barrel; the manufacturer makes no claims of weather or dust sealing. I imagine that leaving a UV or polarising filter on the lens all the time might cut down on dust in the long-term. For most of the shots in this post I used a polarising filter.
The box comes with a hood, which I have never used and didn't miss, and a felt bag.

e.g. the bag is made of felt. Obviously I felt the bag - I had to feel it in order to remove it from the box - although I like to think that there's a difference between touching something and feeling it. Feeling implies that you slide your fingers over a surface whereas touching is a bit like prodding but less aggressive. Isn't the English language great? Touch, feel, prod, press, caress, stroke all mean slightly different things and can be used sincerely or ironically. Prodding is basically like touching, but whereas you might touch or caress an attractive woman you would never prod her, unless she was unresponsive and you wanted to see if she was alive or not, but even then the police report wouldn't use the word "prod" because it's slightly comical. You'd prod her with a stick so that you don't leave fingerprints.

T-stops are a motion picture thing. Cinematographers like to get it right in camera because they're hardcore. If you get the exposure of a stills photograph wrong you can salvage it in the darkroom. Ditto for motion picture film, but imagine that you've shot an action sequence with fifty-six individual shots taken with several different lenses of Liam Nesson jumping over a fence, and you have to splice them together. If the exposure is the same all the way through you just have to worry about the natural rhythm of the cuts, which is difficult enough. If the exposure is wrong you have to adjust the lighting and perhaps colour balance of each shot, which wastes time. Imagine having to do that in the days of film, when there was no Adobe Premiere. Imagine Ridley Scott shouting at you for getting it wrong.

I've always wanted a fast wide prime. There are several choices but I plumped for a 35mm f/1.4. Why 35mm? 35mm is a vintage focal length from the days of the Leica/Contax rangefinder wars; it's a gentlemanly focal length, a bit staid, but it won't let you down. A couple of years ago I took a holiday with just a 35mm f/2.8 Olympus Stylus Epic, which I then ended up taking to Berlin as well, and I didn't feel underdressed.

Why f/1.4 and not f/2 or f/2.8? Fast prime lenses have a split personality. Wide open they can see in the dark and the wide aperture gives the photographer more control over depth of field; stopped down they're very sharp. I've shot a lot of medium format film over the last few years, and medium and larger formats have a particular look. The narrow depth of field combined with good central sharpness equals a kind of 3D pop-out effect that's hard to replicate with smaller formats.

A little bit of the medium format look, shot with a YashicaMat (top) and a Mamiya RB67 (bottom, cropped from 6x7).

At f/1.4 with a 35mm-format camera you still have to get very close to things in order to achieve the pop-out effect. At middle distances the depth separation is subtle, but it's there:

Never let it be said that I don't have any photographic ideas. I do have photographic ideas. Three or four of them at least that I reuse a lot. But the first step to dealing with your addictions is recognising that you have them. As you can see the bokeh is decent but nothing special. This seems to be typical of fast wideangle lenses.

Optically the lens is perfectly usable for reportage wide open, with a bit of glow around highlight edges; sharp in most of the frame at f/2.8, all of the frame at f/8 except the last few hundred pixels in the corner. It also seems to be better at close-up and medium distances than infinity, or alternatively it could be that I'm rubbish at focusing a wide angle lens manually at long distances. Here's a 100% crop of the seagull at the top of the post, taken at something like 1/8000th at f/1.4:

That's pretty good for f/1.4. Seagulls have teeth. Isn't it amazing what the natural world can produce all by itself? The hair, the beak, its eyes; honed over millions of years by natural selection. Our own creations are crude in comparison. Until we can build machines that create themselves we will remain in the shadow of the natural world. Why shoot at f/1.4 in bright sunshine? Over the last two decades it seems to have become standard in press photography to use fast wide angle lenses wide open in bright sunshine, I assume because photojournalists aren't allowed to retouch their images, and a combination of the narrow depth of field and vignetting of wide apertures draws attention to the subject in-camera. Consider this image of the Badwater Ultramarathon from July 2013, shot in the bright sunshine and searing heat of Death Valley:

This is my mental image of modern press photography. The EXIF data is gone but my hunch is that it was shot with a 35mm f/1.4 or 50mm f/1.2 or f/1.4 wide open, which in theory is insane - it's Death Valley in late morning or early afternoon - but that's how press photography is nowadays.

Earlier generations associated grainy black and white film with veracity, because that's what photojournalism looked like in the 1960s. For my generation black and white is an affectation, and the look of "reality" is 24mm f/1.4 at f/1.4 in bright sunshine with harsh shadows and washed-out colours, and everything is sand or dirt. The look has permeated computer games to an extent that muted brown is now a cliche of Modern Warfare and Call of Duty. It's another example of how the medium shapes our view of the world and becomes a message in itself, next paragraph.

This is by coincidence one of my greatest sexual fetishes.

I wonder if people in the Victorian era associated hard-hitting news with the look of woodblock engravings. Who knows. The following four images were shot at f/8 and f/1.4 respectively, followed by 100% crops from the centre and corner, with no sharpening or correction of any kind:

There's a teeny-tiny bit of CA on the artist's jacket and the post, but it's minuscule. The corner isn't as bitingly sharp as my Contax 35-70mm f/3.4 but then again my Contax 35-70mm f/3.4 can't do f/1.4.

You'll have to trust that I focused correctly - Samyang lenses are notorious for misaligned focus scales, and for focusing past infinity. My impression is that the lens isn't great at infinity focus.

This is the same image, but with sharpening and some CA correction, which suggests that the perceived lack of sharpness is more a function of glowy edges than poor resolution. Serves you right for photographing a landscape at f/1.4. On a more serious level the lens might not be great for astrophotography unless you stop down to f/2 or so.

The lens is available for all of the popular full-frame lens mounts and the likes of Micro Four Thirds as well, and to confuse matters Samyang also sells a completely different, autofocus 35mm f/1.4 for mirrorless cameras. Furthermore the lens is available under a variety of brand names, of which Rokinon seems to have captured the public's imagination the most, perhaps because it sounds very aggressive.

Samyang also sells a 35mm T1.5 as part of their professional XEEN range of cine lenses. I assume the optics are the same, but the XEEN lenses are made of metal and have a common physical design. They're a lot more expensive.

It's an advert for a film in which Mussolini comes back from the dead. It's fascinating to imagine how politicians from the past might fit in with the present; my hunch is that Mussolini, Stalin, Ramsay MacDonald and the like would adapt much more readily than Hitler, because they were essentially opportunists whereas Hitler had a very narrow focus on a limited range of political ideas, wedded to a certain time and place that has long passed.

This was taken with my mobile phone. Sylvio Berlusconi must really like being Prime Minister of Italy. I imagine he can use the role to pass laws that benefit his business interests, but otherwise being Prime Minister of Italy seems like more trouble than it's worth.

There's a tiny bit of mostly-barrel-with-a-bit-of-moustache-style distortion. PTLens has a profile for it.

In fact every image in this post illustrates one of my sexual fetishes, including the seagulls.

There are lots of alternative lenses in the 35mm range. At the top of the financial tree Nikon and Canon make weather-sealed autofocus 35mm f/1.4s; Sigma makes an apparently terrific 35mm f/1.4; Zeiss sells a manual focus 35mm f/1.4 for several lens mounts, plus an autofocus 35mm f/1.4 especially for the Minolta/Sony system. I haven't used any of them. Are they any good? Probably!

As mentioned in the text I didn't bother with a hood. Flare resistance was however infinitely superior to Samyang's 14mm f/2.8. Note in this photo the distinctive colour shift from "bokeh fringing" - branches away from the focal plane are green, closer purple.

The people of Rome are like honey badgers. They park wherever they want. Here's some more purple fringing on highlight edges, which as before goes away when you stop down and can generally be Photoshopped into oblivion.

35mm is however a venerable focal length that, as with 50mm, crosses financial boundaries and appears to be difficult to do badly; until recently Canon and Nikon made 35mm f/2 lenses that were amongst the cheapest in their prime lens range. The two lenses were replaced with a more expensive f/2 with image stabilisation and an f/1.8 respectively. In the mid-range Tamron also sells a 35mm f/1.8. Judging by the reviews they all have unimpressive bokeh, are usable wide open, nice at f/8. At this point in the post the anger and aggression that drove the preceding paragraphs has subsided to be replaced by a kind of gnawing fear, a gnawing dread, gnawing.

At the bottom of the pile is Yongnuo, a kind of mini-Samyang famous for its flash units. Yongnuo makes a 35mm f/2 that looks like a clone of the old Canon 35mm f/2. It sells for less than a hundred English pounds and apparently isn't very good. I know very little about vintage 35mm lenses, although from what I have read the otherwise-reliable Olympus OM range of compact primes apparently wasn't all that hot at 35mm. In the early 1970s Nikon launched a 35mm f/1.4 which was subsequently modified for AI and then AI-S. It's much smaller than the Samyang 35mm and is apparently still on sale new, although you have to ask and it's very expensive. It has a certain amount of investment value, but on an optical level it's apparently not as good. As far as I know Canon didn't sell a 35mm f/1.4 during the FD years, instead opting to one-up Nikon by selling a 24mm f/1.4 instead, but that's a whole 'nother focal length.

The best 35mm lens I own is my aforementioned Contax 35-70mm f/3.4, which I never use because it's slow and awkward.

That's it. Can't think of any more to say. Might as well stop before the bad words come. While in Rome I only saw an image of Cara Delevingne once. A few years back it seemed as if London was plastered with a mixture of adverts featuring Cara Delevingne and posters for The Hunger Games: Mockingjay, to an extent that I now associate 2014 and 2015 with images of Jennifer Lawrence surrounded by flames. Then the posters were gone and now London seems like an alien place; the new posters are strange and unfamiliar, the iconography means nothing to me. I miss those posters. I associate them with a certain time in my life, and now they're gone forever.