Domestication and Daily Spaces

 

 

I have not tried to capture daily moments inside a home. Especially when that home is my space. My mechanical cameras and interest have looked for the daily behavior of others, in streets around the world.

As a street photographer, choreographing my environment is not something I do – I just wait for the unprepared and try to capture it raw.

So, I took a few shots in my domestic space, and was delighted to experience the difference between what I think I see and what gets impressed upon the celluloid.

These photos were taken with an Olympus OM-2 and a vintage Vivitar 28mm 1:2.5 wide angle lens.  I cropped both photos while scanning them.

 

A.      The photo on top is a typical posture of my Akita. He is a powerful guard dog, but when “off duty”, follows me everywhere and likes to touch with his paws. A daily moment of harmony and mutual trust.

 

B.      Dinner time. I got upon a chair for framing it. Again, a daily routine that I had not captured before.

 

I like these unscripted scenes and the perspective I get that differs from what I see with the naked eye.  Next time I will try my 1970s Nikkor 24mm lens to see what else is around me that I take for granted within my space…

 

September 10, 2023

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2023

Prescott, AZ, Sunrises and Sunsets

 

 

I rarely take photos of scenery. However, there are moments that encapsulate the character of a milieu within which people, when captured on B&W pellicule, show a character perhaps influenced by the environment.

The photo atop is of sunrise in the bucolic cowboy town of Prescott where I enjoy life for e decade now. Perched at 5,500 feet in the High Desert and mountains, this town has a proud history from the frontier days. It also has large skies, a desertic setting I love, and an ongoing challenge with the future of water sources, which now plagues the Southwest of the country.

So, somehow the watering of the town center grounds, the monument of Bucky O’Neil and his horse, and the high clouds of the rainy season framed, in my mind, the above characteristics.

 

Prescott sunrises have to be captured quickly before the sun takes over the day and washes all shadows in a second. Sunsets however, are often impressive in the pastel colours they display above and over the mountain range.  Such nature’s compositions are almost as picturesque in B&W as they are in colour. Here are two moments I froze at sunset from my balcony:

Thumb Butte, elevation 6514 ft, it is a natural landmark. I like the silhouette of Thumb Butte at sunset surrounded with clouds and shades of light.

And sometimes, these clouds and mist surround the mountain giving the peak a delicate chale to wear for the night.

August 12, 2023

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2023

Preamble to a Daily Dance

 

I got a number of emails about my latest poem posted on my literary blog https://vahezen.blogspot.com/2023/07/part-of-joy-of-dancing-is-conversation.html . Interestingly, much of the feedback was about the photo I had used atop the poem.

So, here is the background to the photo:

I took two shots of a small gathering during a recent visit to the East Coast, with a 1954 Kodak Retina IIIc camera. In that crowd was a woman who moved in her high heels with the grace of a dancer. I took the photos without really knowing what to expect, but hoping that I can capture her fluid movement.

Of course I cropped the frames, did a bit of burning and a lot of dodging under the 1960s HANSA Pro enlarger on which I used a 1960s Soviet camera lens (Industar 61L/D) instead of a flat field enlarger lens. I like the unexpected effect such a set-up can produce.

To my delight, the two frames wove a story I had hoped to capture. The photo I used to illustrate my poem is at the top of this page. That was the second frame I shot. The first frame was the introductory posture for the “dance”, and here it is:

 

I hope the readers who sent me emails wondering about the story behind the "dance shots" now have the full background.

 

July 19, 2023

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2023

The Sunny 16 Rule in B&W Street Photography

 

 

It is the July 4^th weekend and I took a 1950s Petri 1.9 rangefinder camera with me to downtown.

As I was taking my first photos, I noticed a young man to my left looking at me with his phone in his hand. Then he approached and, very respectfully, asked:

“Sir, I could not stop looking at your camera – is that a retro-designed new digital camera?”

He seemed genuinely interested and I did not mind talking to him.

“In fact, it is a 65 year old film camera” I said.

I think he thought I was joking.

“Seriously, who makes it?”

“A company you never hear about” I assured him. “It was made in Japan in the late 1950s by a photographic tools maker, the Kuribayashi Company. It did not survive the competition, and disappeared soon after.”

I think he was still doubtful of my responses. But kept and inquiring.

“I have never seen a film camera, nor film” he continued. “And I was watching you adjust a number of rings on the lens before taking a single photo. I could have taken a dozen with my phone by then!”

“You are very observant. Yes, I have to adjust the aperture, the speed, and then turn the focusing film to accommodate the best combination for the light. And then I have to wind the film to get to the next unexposed frame.”

“Wow, the camera does not do all that for you? How do you adjust for the light?”

“By the Sunny 16 rule” I said. You couple the speed of the shutter to the speed of the film and then decide on the best shutter aperture to have a good exposure.”

At this point, he was lost. But I felt that he was curious and interested.

“Tell you what, here is my card. I will soon post a few photos where various combinations of shutter and aperture were used. If interested, check my blog. Till then, Google “Sunny 16 Rule”.

He said he will, and thanked me for taking time to chat with him.

“One more thing – can I take a pic of your camera? I will show it to my grandpa. He used to have film cameras.”

 

… Ok, I am hoping that the young man will indeed check my blog and perhaps get his grandfather to look at some photos, purely by nostalgia.

As a preamble to the photos, I would say that I use cameras covering the period from the 1930s to the early 1970s. Most do not have light meters, except the 1969 Nikon F and the same era Olympus OM-1. Even with those that have the old Selenium cell light meters, I use the Sunny 16 rule, since I learned photography that way. I have written about mechanical cameras and street photography at length, and the 50,000+ readers know my obsession with the concept of “the tool and the user should interact during the decision making for best outcomes”.

 

So, I quickly looked through my photo albums and chose five to illustrate the joy of producing street photography when in total control of all the parameters when using a vintage all-mechanical camera.

Ferrara, Italy.  As an academic, I visited Italy and especially the Medieval city of Ferrara numerous times for a decade. Aside from teaching and research, I spent my time pursuing street photography. I often took a medium format camera along with a 35mm rangefinder, and the photo at the top of the page why a medium format camera can deliver what a 35mm rangefinder cannot during quick decision making in the streets.

This photo was taken just after sunrise, before I started my work day. I used a 1970s Mamiya 645 medium format camera with the glorious Mamiya-Sekor C 80, 1.9 lens. Even with the slow ASA 100 or 60 speed film that I used exclusively, the f1.9 aperture always gave my explorative mind the rewards I sought.

The photo is from the front of the Cathedral where two men were starting their day the Italian way – by a discussion. The medieval castle, Castello Estense is in the back, ghostly and fluid in presence, because I used a speed of 1/30^th second with the lens full open at f1.9. Further I could not have obtained the same effect of the castle towering the street if I had used a rangefinder camera that needs to be held to my eye level – the Mamiya uses a waist finder that sit about two feet lower than my eye and helps to emphasise the angle of view.

Interestingly, I found this photo in my “rejects” file and hence I had never published it before. I do not know why…

 

Paris, France.  I include this one, which has been published in different settings, because I took it with the same camera, same shutter speed and lens aperture, but passed sunset on the bank of the Seine River. The perspective is different as the young woman was atop the wall, and certainly the light was softer and dimmer after sunset (I made sure to capture the street light that had just come on to denote the time of the shooting).

 

In this and the Ferrara photo, an electronically programmed light meter would have produced totally different (and less dramatic) results. Vive le Sunny 16 rule!

 

Barcelona, Spain. My goal was not only to capture the micro moment when the Chef was finishing his smoke and heading back to the restaurant kitchen, but to include the walking/vanishing man in the background in the right spot to give a depth of field perspective. More, I wanted to have a mixture of textures – the roughness of the stony walls, the smooth lines of the chef’s hat and uniform, and the shadowy ending of the street.

All this, in adjusting the speed and aperture, then focusing the lens on my 1969 Nikon F Photomic in a split second…

Singapore.  I took this one with my 1972 Olympus OM-1. There were three variations of the ambient and surrounding light – the young lady was shielded from direct light, the seduction poster was in a dimmer light, and the bus was in the full midday tropical light of Singapore. Yet, I wanted to have these three focal views in focus and prominent.

Ignoring the light meter reading, I opted for an aperture of f5.6 and a shutter speed of 1/125^th second, knowing that I will do dodge and burn areas of the photo under the enlarger.

The most challenging dodging attempts were in getting the face of the solder to appear on the back panel of the bus above the patriotic lines (it was totally washed out on the negative). After wasting quite a few photo paper sheets, I was able to have a relatively smooth tonal transition between the seduction poster, the young lady and the soldier’s face, because I used a wider aperture than the one calculated by the camera’s meter, giving me more light to play with during my darkroom work.

 

Somewhere in the U.S. Ok, I do not recall where I took this photo! I would guess it was somewhere in New England, but I can find no landmarks to help me be sure.

No matter, it is one with rather naturally organized tonal transition, although I have not done any darkroom work on this print.  It looks like a cloudy day, and my guess is that I took it the lens opened to f8. However, given that some of those in walking action have less than crisp lines, the shutter speed should have been 1/60^th second or less. And that makes it an interesting photo since the young man in tutu not only stands out in his white attire, but is perfectly in focus and very sharp.

Perhaps we should remember that the Sunny 16 rule was the golden rule in the Pre-WWII era when all cameras were mechanical with no light meter, and all film were B&W, and professional photographer did all the darkroom work themselves.

 

Porto, Portugal.  I had to include this one to show the shortcomings of the Sunny 16 rule. It was morning coffee time in Porto, and I was walking to the local hospital to give a lecture. I had a 1954 Kodak Retina IIIc folding rangefinder camera in my backpack as it is small, although heavy, but very portable.

The scene of men getting together for the morning coffee, all wearing dark clothing, under a wonderfully textured stone wall was perfect for B&W photography.  I remember setting the shutter speed at 1/125^th second but do not recall what the aperture was. I was hurrying to take a shot before the men sat down and all motion disappeared.  Well, whatever the aperture was, it was set too small as the stony wall was captured in great definition because it radiated the morning sun, but the men ended up looking like shadows. This is why this photo was also in my rejects file, for good reason.

That is why, when using the Sunny 16 rule and if the moment allows, one should attempt multiple shots of the same scene with different speed and aperture combinations. However, it is very rare in street photography to have such a luxury, especially when using all mechanical cameras that need at least 10 seconds to get set up anew.

 

There you go young and curious man, if you decide to visit my blog. These are the things we could have talked about but I was busy setting up my 1959 Petri 1.9 to take my next photo. You know, deciding on the aperture opening, the shutter speed, rotating the lens to have the rangefinder patches inside the viewfinder superimpose perfectly on the focus area I had in mind, and pressing the shutter release.

Then, winding the film to start all over again for the next shot!

 

July 2, 2023

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2023

A 1949 Canon Serenar Lens Photos of the Fine Arts and Heritage of the American West Show At the Prescott, AZ, Town Square (May 27-28, 2023)

Prescott, AZ, has the territorial days’ heritage of cowboy lifestyle, including the arts which are wonderfully represented in a distinctive fine arts museum called the Phippen Museum for Arts & Heritage of the American West. George Phippen, cowboy artist, founded the museum in 1984 where truly fine art painting and sculptures by cowboy artists are displayed, along with educational seminars about the American West.

For the past 7 years, on the weekend before Memorial Day, the Phippen Museum organizes an arts show at the Prescott town center. Artists display their works allowing visitors to purchase unique artworks for their homes.

One of the main attraction of that weekend are live painting sessions by artists who are given one hour to start and complete a new painting.  Thousands of visitors watch the painters up close throughout the process and then the completed artwork are put to auction.

This weekend, I wanted to capture a few moments through a 1949 Canon Serenar 50mm lens mounted on a 1953 Leica rangefinder camera.  The lens was produced from 1949 to 1952, and is based on early 1930s German lenses by Leitz.  For those who want to learn more about the history of 1950s Canon rangefinder cameras and lenses, I will share my experience at the end of this posting.

 

It was a very challenging afternoon for a photographer with the high desert sun filtering through the tall trees of the town square. Everything and everyone was part shade and part sun, making any composition aiming at smooth tonal range transitions practically impossible. Plus, with a 74 year old lens and a 70 year old mechanical camera, the challenge was not only in composing a frame, but knowing that these antique tools would be “overwhelmed” by the kaleidoscope of light and shade.

So, a perfect setting to test the old lens!

 

The photo at the top of the page shows the artists working on their new painting and captures part of the crowd watching the process. Of course a 35mm lens would have been better for a more inclusive view. Photo taken at f11 and 1/100^th second shutter speed.

I used two shutter speeds during that afternoon – 1/75^th for heavily shady frames, and 1/100^th for the rest. I wanted to remain minimalist and use the Leica IIIF for what it was intended – street photography.

I also used a vintage Spiralite coated 40mm filter on the lens hoping that it may increase contrast and minimise flare. If nothing else it protected the front element of the Serenar.

 

I decided to focus on 3 artists for testing the following aspects of the lens:

1.       The sharpness of the lens at f4 aperture since I could not open it more given the maximum speed of 1/1000^th of the Leica

2.       The contrast, and

3.       The shallowness of the depth of field or blurring of the out-of-focus background.

Here are examples:

 

Sharpness. This artist had the most intricate western clothing and the fine detail on her coat would serve for my test of lens definition and sharpness.  Taken at f5.6 and 1/100^th second shutter speed.

 

Contrast. This light and shadow falling upon this painter were like a web and patchwork. And, with the afternoon wind, the tree branches were moving changing the tonal range constantly. Here is the best shot I got after a few tries. Taken at f5.6 and 1/75^th second shutter speed.

 Depth of field’s shallowness. Finally, I was able to sneak into the crowd and see the picture this artist was using to compose his painting. It was a subtle test to see how the focus on the painter’s shirt would affect the sharpness of the picture a few inches away. Taken at f4 and 1/100^th second shutter speed.

 

Thoughts

I had used this lens once, years ago as it came with a 1949 Canon IIB rangefinder camera. I did not like the dim viewfinder of the camera and kept it as a historical artifact (more about it below). But the Serenar lens was beautifully made even if based on a configuration by German camera manufacturer in the 1930s.

But I am glad to have tried the lens again, this time on my 1953 Leica IIIF.

The photos came out better than I expected. Actually, the sharpness and contrast were very similar to a 50mm f2 Summicron I once owned. While the center of the frame is delightfully crisp and sharp, the fallout at the corners is very noticeable. As with all vintage lenses and those who still love to use them, the criteria for goodness cannot be similar to modern lenses. After all would one compare the 1969 Oldsmobile Cutlass to an electric car? As with these cars, the driving reason for being behind the wheel of the Cutlass was the character and identity of the ride. It was my first real car (the Peugeot 204 could not compare…) and I still recall the joy of driving it around corniches of the Mediterranean.

Using the Serenar  was a bit like that – a lens that has a lovely background blur (bokeh) even at 5.6 and f4, and a sharpness that can add to the creativity if the photographer composes the scene keeping in mind the character and prowess limits of the lens.

Now a short background about the Canon IIB rangefinder and the 50mm Serenar f1.9 lens that was made for it in 1949.

Until 1949, all Barnack cameras, the Leica and various copies of the design by the German inventor Oskar Barnack, had three “eye” to look through – two round ones for the rangefinder assisting the focusing, and a rectangular one for framing the picture. Canon revolutionized the design with the IIB model, where the rangefinder and the framing windows became one. It was now much faster to focus and frame. But, the IIB had another major new feature – the rangefinder/viewfinder had three interchangeable positions, depending on the lens one uses. Indeed the improved finder could be switched for 50mm lens framing, to 100mm and also 135mm lenses. No more auxiliary viewfinders for each lens! This technological step forward gave Canon a new status in the field by now having its own designs and not making copies of Leica. The IIB was discontinued in 1952 but the interchangeable viewfinder technology continued through various models till 1959 when the Canon P rangefinder camera broke yet a new ground in viewfinder technology.

Here is my 1949 Canon IIB (on the right) next to my 1953 Leica IIIF showing the 3 vs. 2 rangefinder/viewfinder “eyes”.

 

Since the Leica has a larger frame than the Canon IIB (although the weights are comparable) I think the Serenar lens looks very proportioned on the Leica.

 

The Canon Serenar collapsible 50mm f1.9 lens was designed as the “normal” (50mm) lens for the IIB camera. When the IIB was discontinued in 1952, so did the collapsible design which was replaced by a rigid 50mm f1.8 lens. I have and continue to us the latter lens with my Canon Model L3, and it is among my favorite rangefinder camera lenses.

But since only 14,500 Canon IIB with the collapsible 50mm Serenar lens were sold between 1949 and 1952, the combination remains a favorite of collectors.

 

 

May 29, 2023

© Vahé A, Kazandjian, 2023

Mothers’ Day 2023 through a 1951 Canon Serenar Lens, Prescott, AZ.

 

 

On Mothers’ Day there was an arts and crafts show on Prescott town square. Appropriate for the day, most kiosks displayed Native American jewelry of silver and turquoise stone. Others had sculpture, photography and paintings.

For a street photographer, such gatherings offer the perfect setting to capture a few moments and also try lenses given the high desert bright sun and shades by trees and structures.

I decided to try a 1949 Canon rangefinder lens that I had added to my collection decades ago but never used. It is a Canon Serenar 35mm f2.8 lens that was produced only for a few years, hence it is highly collectible but did not gain popularity given its reputation for being “soft”. But the main reason I had not used it is that a 50mm lens captures the world more like I see it – whenever I used a 35mm lens I ended up cropping what I projected under my 1950s enlarger.

But, curiosity lead me to mount the 1949 design Serenar on my 1957 Canon L3 rangefinder camera and head to the town square.

Here is the Serenar on the L3

And a shade to minimise the softness of the photos given the desert sun

… I did not have a specific “topic” in mind for this photo session, but after few minutes of walking around I decided to capture the celebration with dogs being a central theme. Indeed, there were as many dogs as people at the town center, given the lovely spring day.

The photo at the top of the page was the first test of the lens. Given the transition of shade grades, I opted for an aperture of 5.6 and a shutter speed of 1/125^th second since I was using ASA 100 ARISTA film. I did have to crop some of the crowd out when printing since I was still “thinking in 50mm” when framing the man with the stroller in front of the statue. I was hoping to get a shallower depth of field with an f5.6 opening but the detail of building is capture with surprising definition.

My following shots were of a dog that advertised hats for dogs in front of a kiosk selling that product. I first used f5.6 with 1/60^th shutter speed, then f4 and 1/125^th speed. The first combination yielded a more contrasty photo although the sharpness and detail seemed unchanged.

After a few shots of experimenting with shutter and aperture combinations, I ended up with my favorite type of street photography – a man and his dog waiting for a portable toilet to become vacant. I like these natural photo frames when light, structures and behavior come together. Plus, my dog theme was perfectly realised!

I had tried most of the shutter and speed combinations (even tried an f2.8 with 1/500^th second just for the fun of it since 500 is the fastest speed on the L3) for shots within 15 meters. I now wanted to see how the lens does with longer distance shots.

I saw a group surrounding a dog that seemed to appreciate all the attention. I was about 30 meters away and did a zone focusing by setting the focus at infinity.

When I printed the photo, I realized that a better on the dog would have yielded a better story. But even with an extreme enlargement, the definition/sharpness of the happy canine is surprisingly good, although his eyes are blurred while his nails do stand out nicely.

Finally, I tried to contextualize the photos by taking a contre jour shot where the banner specified the day of the celebration.

So, how did the 1949 design Canon serener lens, which was only marketed in 1951 (my model) and 1952, do?

Better than I expected given the review it had gotten from users. It is a small, beautifully crafted lens that in my first attempt showed great sharpness and especially character. It does have that vintage lens rendition feel as well, which I like since I do not use digital cameras and modern lenses (a Nikkor lens from 1970 is as “modern” as my lenses go…) I will try it again now that I have a better understanding of its sweet spots regarding aperture/speed combinations.

As for using a 35mm lens for telling a story in street photography, the jury is still out. I think my favorite vintage rangefinder lens remains the Canon 50mm 1.8, which I have used for decades on the L3.

 

May 16, 2023

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2023

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spring Bicycle Race in Prescott, AZ, Through the Eye of a 65 Year Old Soviet Jupiter-3 Lens

 

When the digital world expanded to cameras, film manufacturers announced their decision to stop producing film. It was the 1990s and for people like me, it became the golden decade for acquiring everything film photography very affordably.

Among dozens of professional 35mm and medium format cameras, I got interested in 1950s Soviet rangefinders. Since film was announced to disappear, sellers were enticing “anachronists” like me with package deals, including multiple lenses, darkroom tools, and tripods. So, a 1955 Zorki camera I got came with three lenses – an Industar-10 and two Jupiter-3. One of the Jupiter (made in 1983) was missing the focus ring, while the other (made in 1956) had very stiff focusing. I tried all three lenses but only the Industar was focusing correctly.

So, I use the Jupiter with no focusing ring as a loupe to inspect negatives, and stored the other one with other lenses I ended up collecting more than using.

.. A few weeks ago I was looking for a lens when I noticed the 1956 Jupiter-3 at the back of the shelf. Curiosity led me to try mounting it on my 1954 Leica IIIF. To my surprise the infinity mark stopped right at the center of the Leica’s infinity scale (all other Soviet lenses screw in further on German and Japanese cameras.)

So, I focused on infinity and it was spot on. Then I focused on an object at 1 meter, and it was spot on again! Could this lens actually calibrate well on my Leica?

Needless to say, I decided to try the lens during an upcoming bicycle race event and see what may come out on the negative.

But first, I needed to disassemble the lens and hope that a cleaning and lubrication may allow me to rotate the focusing ring.

As I have seen inside many Soviet vintage lenses, there was engraving inside the aluminum barrel. Usually these are lines indicating that someone had tried to adjust the focus of the lens by trying various shims and when successful, has made a scratch in the aluminum to indicate where to realign the parts if the lens was taken apart again. But this time there were engravings by someone very talented in engraving.

 

For example inside the aluminum barrel (housing) the handsome engraving showed

 

And on the lens/glass housing, it read

I have no idea what these mean.  Clearly the shim had worked in adjusting the focus, as I often see 2 or more thinner shims indicating trial and error during the reassembly of a vintage lens.

No matter, I spent time cleaning the 65 years of residue and solidified lubricant. To my delight, now the focus was very smooth and with no hesitation.

I was ready to load a 100 ASA film and get ready for street photography on the weekend.

But first a few lines about the Jupiter-3 lens and how it fits in the WWII events.

 In the late 1940s the Soviets moved the content of the German Zeiss factories in Jena to Krasnogorskij, near Moscow. And that gave a boost to the Soviet industry of photographic instruments and lenses. Among the lens components were blueprints and Shott glass of the venerable Zeiss Sonnar 50mm f1.5, the fastest lens for 35mm cameras. Using these materials, the first Soviet copy of the Sonnar was launched in the USSR in 1948, named Jupiter-3 and known as Zeiss Sonnar Krasnogorskij. When the Zeiss components were depleted in 1954, Jupiter-3 was manufactured in various Soviet factories with Russian lens and aluminum bodies. So all Jupiter-3 lenses produced before 1955 (approximatively) were in fact Sonnars assembled in Russian factories and are highly regarded.

My lens is from 1956, made at the ZOMZ factory, and has that lovely purple single coating.

Ok, now about the results, keeping in mind that this was the first roll I shot.

I was not interested in taking photos of the bicycle race – those with modern digital wonder cameras are the ones who can take hundreds of shots in a few seconds and then keep one or two good ones. I had rolled about 20 frame worth of film in my plastic canister and wanted to test the lens in as many light situations as possible. And I was especially looking to capture moments that would make this bicycle race one in a cowboy city’s identity.

The photo at the outset shows the start of the 30 km race. The signal was given by a man, in Western attire, shooting a shotgun with a blank load. Perfect for placing the race in the cowboy town context.

 

Of course I had one clicking opportunity to capture the shot and that would be by capturing the smoke out of the barrel. If not, it would look like a man holding up a shotgun. I used an aperture of f8 and a shutter speed of 1/200^th second. Although the focus is slightly off, I am pleased with the contrast by this 65 year old lens.  And it seems that my 65 year old Leica’s speeds are ballpark given that I have never had the camera serviced…

 

Before the race started, there was a lovely “local” moment when the cowboy placed his shotgun in front of the start line signaling that the start time was approaching

The contrast with the high tech gear of the cyclist and an old double barrel shotgun is pleasant. I took both of these photos with an aperture of f16 and shutter speed of 1/100^th second.

 

Finally, I wanted to see how the depth of field was rendered. Focusing on spectators 10 feet away from me, the peloton as the foreground is still quite in focus. I did wait a few seconds to let the front runners run, and capture that one cyclist who maybe started a bit slow.

 

So, I am pleased with the first results – the Jupiter-3 has that vintage Sonnar character, and at the apertures I used, sharp enough to tell a story.

Next I will test the full aperture of f1.5 with portraiture shots.

 

May 4, 2023

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2023