A MINI, an Olympus Pen F Digital, and the Concept of ‘Fun’

What inspired me to create this video was the recent purchase of a new car. Well, when I say “new,” it’s all relative. Considering New College Oxford dates back to the 14th century and the New Seekers peaked in the 1970s, “new” takes on a different meaning. But fear not, this isn’t merely a video about cars. That’s not really my usual content. Nor is it about the New Seekers, although that might cement my status as the go-to YouTuber for the retirement community.

The truth is, I’ve never felt much of a bond with my cars beyond hoping they’ll get me to my destination without any breakdowns. Given my history of acquiring or inheriting beat-up cars, that’s never been a given. Plus, I’ve had a couple of mishaps along life’s journey that remind me cars can be dangerous—yes, I even blinked when I sneezed.

However, from the moment I test drove this car, actually, from the moment I laid eyes on it, there was an undeniable allure emanating from it, beckoning me to have some fun.And I think it’s because it’s a Mini. The Mini, as a car, epitomizes fun. It’s even ranked number 5 on Top Gear’s list of fun and economical cars, and even Chat GPT agrees with me on thi

That got me pondering about my most enjoyable camera. It’s a tough call. I’ve owned many cameras that I’d describe as ‘fun’, from the quirky Carl Zeiss Werra to the comically oversized Fuji medium format rangefinder. But ultimately, I settled on my Olympus Pen F Digital. Just as the Mini serves as my everyday ride, this camera is my everyday companion. While any dependable car can get me from A to Z, this camera provides the versatility I require to capture the photos I desire.

Sure, any modern camera can produce quality images, much like how any reliable car can get you where you need to go. But what sets apart the ‘fun’ factor in both cases compared to other similar tools? That’s the question I find myself exploring.

What is Fun? The Five Ss

It sounds like a simple question, but the answer can be complicated. Often we think of fun as something that has no purpose or meaning but cars and cameras are both tools. There has to be something more to it than that and I’ve come tho think about it as the Five Ss

Firstly, fun is a sensuous, not to be confused with sensuAL. It’s about the tactile quality of things, the immediate satisfaction they provide. Whether it’s driving a fast car or handling a camera, the user interface and tangible experience play a significant role in the enjoyment.

Take this car, for instance. Despite its modest engine size, the turbocharger gives it a surprising speed, accompanied by a distinct sound that adds to the sensory experience. Similarly, my Olympus Pen F camera feels fast in hand, capable of shooting at high speeds and providing a seamless interface for capturing images.

But fun isn’t just about speed; it’s also about surprises. Despite its compact size, both the car and the camera pack a punch, offering unexpected features and capabilities that enhance the overall experience.

Additionally, there’s an element of silliness to both. From quirky design choices in the car’s interior to overengineered buttons on the camera, there’s a sense of playfulness that adds to the enjoyment.

However, fun doesn’t always mean impracticality. Both the car and the camera serve practical purposes while still providing an enjoyable experience. In fact, the fun aspects can often enhance the serious outcomes, making mundane tasks more enjoyable.

Photos from the Olympus Pen F, exemplifying the Five Ss of Fun

Ultimately, whether it’s driving a fast car or capturing moments with a camera, fun can be found in the serious and the silly alike. And in the end, both the car and the camera prove to be more than just tools; they’re sources of enjoyment and satisfaction in their own right.

Here’s to Fun!

The word  ‘fun comes from the old English word ‘befon’ which is to make a fool of someone. In that sense I’m very fun.

It’s just a pity that there isn’t much attention paid to the concept of fun. Flicking through the pages of the Dictionary of World Philosophy takes you directly from Frankfurt School to God without any fun in between and that’s a shame. After all, wasn’t it that great philosopher Miley Cyrus who said, ‘Life is all about having a good time’?

Look, I’m not sure I completely subscribe to the simplistic notion of fun being pleasure without purpose. Sure, no-one’s expecting you to have a riotous time bagging your broccoli in the supermarket. But that doesn’t mean shopping can’t be both fun and purposeful. Similarly It doesn’t mean every useful tool or purposeful activity is going to be fun. Some of the most optimised experiences are so seamless that they are barely register with us. Neither the mini nor the Pen F are perfect. But if they were, maybe they’d be boring. The fact that the Mini Countryman is a little bubble box on an all wheel drive X1 chassis means you get all of the benefits and compromises of a crossover vehicle including having the turning circle of a camel train. The Pen F is full of compromises too with its smaller sensor and quirky autofocus. It’s love of dials means that they had to put the on-off switch on the top left of the camera body, which means you can’t operate the camera one-handed but these aren’t just the limitations you learn to live with, they are the qualities you come to love. The minor annoyances slip into the background but we can still occasionally be surprised and beguiled by some of the unexpected whimsy that this camera offers. It’s a serious tool for a serious job but it stimulates my creativity and after all, it WAS Einstein who said ‘Creativity is Intelligence having fun.’ And while not quite the intellectual heavyweight that is Miley Cyrus, Albert does make good case – relatively speaking. And yes, that was a really bad pun. But that’s what fun is. It’s the little things. It’s this little thing and all the S words that seduce and surprise us. This small, singular, sensuous block of knurled magnesium and electronics manages to be both silly and serious at the same time. And in that sense very special to me.

Road Testing a Beaten up Nikon F75 Film SLR

Well, what can I say? Like myself, this camera has seen better days. All of that millennial photographic optimism, crushed by the insurgency of digital and hindered by its flimsy build quality.

I harbor a peculiar fondness for Nikon’s less prestigious SLRs. Or maybe that’s just Stockholm Syndrome—a strange psychological bond forged between crappy old cameras and a crappy old photographer, both steeped in nostalgia. But let’s not dive into self-flagellation just yet; instead, let’s direct our attention toward the Nikon F75.

Now, I can’t be certain whether the last owner treated this camera as toilet paper or handed it to their three-year-old as a plaything before relegating it to the second-hand shelf alongside fallen aspirations—exercise bicycles and DVD copies of “Daddy Day Camp.” Suffice it to say, this camera wears its battle scars.

In its prime, I imagine the F75 stood tall—a photographic titan. But it followed the Mickey Rourke path of self-improvement. Let’s address the worst of its woes: the batteries drain suspiciously quickly, and the zoom ring turns as smoothly as a skier on asphalt.

Amidst the wreckage, though, there was promise. I’ve encountered several similar Nikons—the hideously ugly F50 and the perilously flimsy F55. Both have graced my channel, and while they’re crippled clones of what we’d associate with a “real” Nikon camera, the F50 at least had reassuring heft, and the F55 prided itself on being the smallest and lightest 35mm SLR in my collection.

Enter the F65, sandwiched between the F55 and our battered F75. Supposedly a notch up, the F75 boasts more segments for matrix exposure metering and spot metering—nothing groundbreaking. Unfortunately, the F55 refuses to play nice with newer lenses sporting built-in focus motors, and none of these cameras truly embrace manual lenses.

The F75 is just an incremental improvement on the F55 and F65. It sidesteps the plastic lens mount of the F55, supports TTL for external flashes, and claims the title of the first cheap consumer camera to support stabilization in VR lenses. Yet, it remains plagued by a low flash sync of 1/90 second and the inability to adjust ISO manually—limitations that hinder its outdoor flash photography prowess and bulk loading potential.

To unlock professional features, one must ascend the greasy pole of photographic power, reaching for cameras like the F80 and F100. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves; for now, let’s consider the F75 on its own merits.

First things first—it works. Quality-wise, I didn’t push the camera to its limits. I set it to program mode, peered through the viewfinder, ensured focus, and checked the shutter speed. Random shots ensued, and it was liberating not to overthink every click.

As for the lens—it’s acceptably sharp. The corners may smear a tad, but in the open areas, I didn’t need to wide open the aperture. It behaves much like the G version of the lens that accompanied the Nikon F55, albeit with an aperture ring—a touch more versatility for compatible cameras.

Venture beyond the focal zone, and things unravel. The bokeh—well, it possesses ‘character.’ Imagine Cartman from South Park—either mildly amusing or downright offensive, depending on your subjective taste. Personally, I don’t mind; the subject is so mundane that the background’s busyness bludgeons you into submission. Photography shouldn’t be a game of “spot the subject,” but here we are.

So, dear F75, you’re a relic, a survivor. And perhaps, in your pixelated embrace, I find solace—a connection across time and technology. Or maybe I’m just another crappy old photographer, capturing moments with a camera that’s seen better days.

The Nikon L35 AD and Exploring the Concept of Light in Photography

Let There Be Light

Let’s embark on a journey into the heart of one of photography’s most captivating elements: light. Ah, yes, light—the ethereal essence that dances upon the canvas of our visual narratives, weaving tales of brilliance and shadow, of illumination and obscurity. But what truly defines this enigmatic force?

Allow me to shed some light on the matter—pun intended. We all know light is the radiant energy manifested in the form of electromagnetic radiation, with wavelengths spanning from 380 to 750 nanometers, perceptible to the human eye. However, let us not confine ourselves rigid constraints of scientific definition. Let’s delve into the realm of poetry, where light becomes glancing, gleaming, glimmering, and beyond – and that’s just the G words.

Light shifts and changes. While our friends in the northern hemisphere find themselves enveloped in the cloak of darkness, here in my corner of the world, we find ourselves basking in the relentless embrace of summer’s scorching sun, leaving the venerable Sunny 16 rule in faded tatters. Here it goes up to 22.

Light and the Nikon L35AD

The Nikon L35AD is a date-back edition of the esteemed Nikon L35AF. This camera deserves a full review but let us not be hasty; today, our focus lies solely on its ability to harness that most precious of commodities—light.

Don’t expect an objective and scientific treatment of the subject here, though. There’s nothing objective about film. Film imbues each frame with a unique character, a personality all its own. In the case of my chosen film, Kodak Ultramax, we have a medium contrast stock, suitable for a myriad of conditions. However, as the astute among you may have already discerned, there were… complications. Yes, complications stemming from my own hubris.

There might have been a few errors during the development process. The results were a bit underdeveloped resulting in thin negatives. But I don’t blame the Nikon L35AD here. There error was in the one factor I could control – me.

Direction, Intensity, Quality, and Continuity: A Quest for the Perfect Light

So let’s try to break this concept down. Light has direction, intensity, quality, and continuity. Direction is probably the most obvious. As a young photographer, I was often reminded to shoot with the light at our backs, bathing our subjects in a soft, even glow. But that simplicity belies the true complexity of light’s nuances. Shoot from the side, you get more dimensionality and with the light behind your subject you get all the fun of silhouettes and halos.

Intensity, too, plays a pivotal role in shaping our photography. From the blistering radiance of the Australian sun to the gentle caress of cloud-filtered light, each variation presents its own unique challenges and opportunities. But sheer intensity isn’t everything. Whether crisp and clear or soft and diffused, the quality of light infuses our images with a palpable sense of atmosphere.

Finally, continuity. This often overlooked dimension of light isn’t so much about the light itself as the scene. Shadows dance across the landscape, reflections shimmer upon the water’s surface, and every object becomes a player in the grand symphony of illumination. How things in the scene, reflect, block and break up the light is a key component of being able to play with it.

Embrace the Light: A Call to Arms

In the end, whatever conditions you find yourself in, cast aside the shackles of convention and venture forth into the boundless realm of photographic exploration and embrace light. Let’s revel in the myriad possibilities that light presents, bending it to our will, shaping it to suit our vision. In the end, it is not the rules that define us, but our willingness to challenge them—to forge our own path in pursuit of luminous enlightenment.

So go forth, and may the light illuminate your path as you capture the world’s wonders through the lens of your camera.

A Review of the Nikon 50mm f/1.2 AI-S in Shinjuku

Meet One of Nikon’s Longest Produced Lenses

Let’s dive right in, shall we? We’re talking about a particular gem in the realm of camera lenses: the Nikon 50mm f/1.2 AI-S. Now, this isn’t just any 50mm lens; it’s a certified light bucket. Back in 1978, when it first hit the scene, it promised to suck in light like a black hole without leaving your photos in a pit of despair. But does it still hold up in today’s unforgiving photographic landscape?

As the neon lights of Tokyo’s Shinjuku district flickered to life, I found myself armed with my trusty Nikon FE paired with the venerable Nikon 50mm f/1.2 AI-S lens. Venturing into the bustling streets, I was eager for a night off from my teaching responsibilities, ready to immerse myself in the vibrant energy of the city. I found camaraderie in the unlikeliest of places, forging bonds with newfound friends who shared a passion for exploration and discourse. As the night unfolded, I couldn’t help but marvel at the serendipitous moments captured through the lens of my Nikon FE, each frame a testament to the spontaneity and vibrancy of Shinjuku’s streets.

A Dance with Film and Light

Despite the film’s lack of objective reference for white balance, I embarked on a journey of post-processing exploration, extracting the raw beauty of the night through the lens of Lightroom. Amidst the chaos of the city, the Nikon 50mm f/1.2 AI-S lens stood as a stalwart companion, capturing moments with its timeless design and solid construction.

As I scanned the negatives, I marveled at the smorgasbord of colors and textures captured by the lens. From the vibrant hues of neon signs to the subtle interplay of light and shadow, each image told a story of urban life illuminated by the glow of the night. While some may dismiss the imperfections of the film as shortcomings, I embraced them as part of the charm, adding depth and character to my photographic narrative.

Nikon 50mm on Generic 800T Motion Picture Film

A Lens with Character

The Nikon 50mm f/1.2 AI-S lens boasts a rich history spanning over four decades, embodying a blend of craftsmanship and character. Despite its imperfections, this lens possesses a unique charm that transcends technical limitations. Its wide aperture renders scenes with a delicate balance of sharpness and softness, akin to an artistic brushstroke painting the canvas of the night. However, its quirks, from vignetting to chromatic aberration, add to its allure, transforming mundane scenes into ethereal compositions.

Delving deeper into the lens’s optical design, I discovered its simplicity belied its complexity. With seven optical elements arranged in six groups, the lens exhibited a traditional spherical design that harkened back to a bygone era of photography. Yet, its longevity and durability spoke to its enduring appeal, standing the test of time amidst advancements in technology. While modern lenses may boast technical superiority, the Nikon 50mm f/1.2 AI-S lens remained a timeless icon, revered by photographers for its distinctive character and versatility.

The Next Day, Shot with Ilford HP5 Pushed to 1600 ISO

Testament to a Legend

While modern optics may boast technical superiority, the Nikon 50mm f/1.2 AI-S lens stands as a testament to craftsmanship and individuality. Its imperfections become its strengths, offering photographers a tool to craft images imbued with personality and depth. From the glow of neon lights to the subtleties of the night, this lens embraces the art of photography, inviting exploration and creativity. As the world moves towards newer technologies, this lens remains a beacon of tradition and innovation, challenging photographers to see beyond perfection and embrace the beauty of imperfection.

In conclusion, Nikon’s 50mm f/1.2 AI-S lens may not be a flawless masterpiece, but it is undeniably an icon of photographic history. Its burnished brass and glass tell a story of craftsmanship and character, inviting photographers to embrace the quirks of analog photography in a digital age. So, as I reflect on my journey through the streets of Shinjuku, I can’t help but appreciate the timeless allure of this legendary lens, knowing that its legacy will continue to inspire photographers for generations to come.