Is the Nikkor Z 28mm f/2.8 Nikon’s most Boring Lens?

Whenever I visit a new country, I like to check out the second-hand camera scene for potential bargains as souvenirs. On a trip to Shanghai, I went to Xingguang Photographic Equipment City, a sprawling, multi-story mall full of small camera shops selling used gear. Armed with 1000 Renminbi in my WeChat wallet, I hoped to find a unique lens within my budget. I was drawn to the idea of a 135mm, but it was too expensive, so I set my sights on something more modest.

I eventually found Nikon’s 28mm Z f/2.8 SE lens, a lens with a retro design that fits Nikon’s ZF digital camera. It’s affordable but not particularly exciting in quality, as it has a plastic mount and feels more like a cheap throwback than anything premium. However, it was within my budget and looked decent enough. The shopkeepers were friendly and humored my attempts at speaking Chinese, making the experience enjoyable.

Reflecting on the 28mm focal length, I find it somewhat mundane. Back in the film era, 28mm was considered wide, but these days, it’s essentially the default view on smartphone cameras. The world is now saturated with 28mm photos—thanks to the trillions of smartphone shots shared online—creating a visual monotony that’s almost tiresome.

To test the lens, I decided to take it to Zhujiajiao, a historic water town near Shanghai, to see if I could capture something interesting with this “boring uncle” of a focal length.

Serviceable, yes but… Exciting?

When I downloaded the photos from my 28mm lens, I felt a bit disappointed. They felt overfamiliar, like the endless shots of water taxis or gondolas in Venice that we’ve all seen. I started questioning if it was the lens itself or simply my inability to break away from typical tourist shots. Maybe the 28mm field of view kept me stuck in that mode.

The 28mm lens is easy to use, with smooth and quiet focusing, and it focuses closer than my zoom lens at 28mm, which is a nice feature. When focusing close, it handles out-of-focus areas beautifully with soft, creamy bokeh. While it won’t completely blur the background like other lenses, it subtly draws attention to the subject without being overpowering.

That said, the Nikon 28mm Z f/2.8 isn’t perfect—28mm does feel a bit dull. At least, to me. I got some decent shots, but reviewing them feels like scrolling through my phone gallery. My 24-200mm offers more versatility, letting me capture close-ups and control framing better by using its longer focal length to keep distractions out of the frame. With the 28mm, I have to be more mindful of composition, especially on the streets, compared to a 35 or 50mm lens.

After sorting through, I picked a few shots that captured the feel of the place without looking too postcard-like. The dim light drained some color from the scene, and a few images actually worked better in black and white.

I do think this lens is a good lens, maybe even a great one if you consider the price and can get over the plastic mount. I can’t fault it that I find the 28mm field of view a bit dull and perhaps, actually, with more use, I might to appreciate that focal length a little more.

First Impressions of the Nikon Z 180-600mm f/5.6-6.3 VR

So, I finally got my hands on Nikon’s latest zoom telephoto lens, the 180-600mm f/5.6-6.3 Z. The big question is: is it a wildlife warrior, slicing through the wilderness to capture distant action, or just a hefty fella trying to compensate for its lack of sporting prowess?

Let’s start with the unboxing, which was honestly a bit underwhelming. All you get is the lens, some cardboard, and the usual paperwork. The lens case is a joke, more like a napkin than anything protective. It’s not exactly travel-friendly, to say the least.

But enough about the packaging, let’s talk about the lens itself. It’s big, no doubt about it, but compared to its competitors, it’s not that intimidating. Plus, it doesn’t extend when you zoom, which is a plus. As for ergonomics, it feels solid in my hands, though it’s definitely on the heavier side. Still, it’s manageable without a tripod, thanks to its balance and design.

The zoom range is impressive, and the short throw of the zoom ring makes it easy to adjust quickly. Overall, it’s a well-designed lens that’s comfortable to use, even handheld.

But the real test is in the field, or in my case, at the zoo. Hey, I’m not about to go traipsing through the wilderness. So, off I went to capture some wildlife action, and let me tell you, this lens didn’t disappoint.

How Good is the Lens?

After surviving various landscapes from the African savannah to the frozen Antarctic tundra, I’m here to share my wildlife photography adventures with you. I did find myself surrounded by children more than animals, though. Mixed feelings about zoos aside, Perth Zoo isn’t too bad, offering enrichment for its inhabitants, even if it’s with plastic containers instead of TV sets showing David Attenborough documentaries.

But enough about zoos, let’s talk lenses. The Nikon Z 180-600mm proved to be a reliable companion during my zoo excursion. Comfortably hanging it around my shoulder for hours, I was able to shoot handheld or on a railing with ease. The images turned out sharp and vibrant, as seen in the giraffe example. While I did some editing, minimal adjustments were needed thanks to the lens’s performance.

Telephoto lenses often lack flexibility in tight situations, but the ability to zoom with this lens was invaluable. Despite its smaller aperture, ranging from f/5.6 to f/6.3, I was pleasantly surprised by the results, even at high ISOs. My favorite shot, taken at ISO 11,400, showcased the lens’s sharpness and the Z 6 sensor’s ability to handle detail even at high ISOs. While extracting detail from white fur was challenging, overall, I’m impressed with the lens’s performance.

Still a Challenge

So, let me dive into the nitty-gritty of my experience with the Nikon Z 180-600mm lens. Focusing was the biggest hurdle I faced, and it’s not entirely the lens’s fault. The Z 6 camera, despite firmware updates, showed its first-generation mirrorless roots with its unreliable autofocus. I found myself constantly switching between autofocus modes, particularly struggling with pinpointing focus on small subjects at 600mm.

Once I got focus right, though, the results were stunning. The sharpness of the lens was apparent, perhaps even too sharp for my taste. I often find modern photography produces images that feel clinically perfect but lack soul. Shooting through glass or fences impacted image quality at times, but the lens still delivered impressive detail.

However, I did encounter situations where the contrast and crispness felt a bit overpowering. I had to employ post-processing techniques like the Orton effect to soften the harshness. Despite this, the lens still managed to maintain character, producing smooth bokeh and delivering sharpness where needed, like capturing the intricate details of a penguin’s iris.

While I’m not a wildlife photographer per se, I purchased this lens for my ongoing telephoto project focusing on ships along the Perth coast. It offers a significant reach and excellent stabilization, allowing me to capture stunning seascapes handheld. At $3k Australian dollars, it’s not cheap, but considering its performance and versatility, it’s a worthy investment.

In conclusion, this lens isn’t perfect, but it’s pretty darn close. I can see it becoming my go-to companion for capturing distant ships on the horizon—a testament to its sharpness, size, and overall performance.

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.

How Good Really is the Nikon 5cm f/1.4 LTM?

Introduction to a Legendary Lens

Back in its heyday, Nikon’s 5cm f/1.4 LTM lens was the rock star of the photography world, propelling Nikon into the big leagues and giving Leica aficionados a run for their money. Rumor has it, this lens even had war photographer David Douglas-Duncan swapping out his Leica lenses faster than you can say “cheese.” Yep, Duncan found these Japanese gems to be snappier and more contrasty, perfect for capturing the gritty drama of black and white news photography. Legend has it that even the editors at Life magazine mistook his shots for large format masterpieces.

The Unconventional Field Test

Now, strap on your combat helmet and lace up those boots, because I’m about to take you on a wild ride through Scarborough Beach and Hillarys Boat Harbour in Perth, Western Australia. Armed with my trusty Zorki 4k and loaded with Ilford HP5 ammo, I decided to put this old-timer through its paces. And let me tell you, it was a battlefield out there, with soccer mums jostling for their morning lattes and surf lifesaving helicopters buzzing overhead like something out of M*A*S*H.

A Closer Look at Performance and Character

But let’s cut the theatrics and get down to the nitty-gritty. This lens may be a vintage beauty, but how does it hold up in today’s pixel-peeping world? Well, let’s just say, it’s a bit of a mixed bag. Sure, it’s got that classic Sonnar design, giving off fuzzy vibes straight from a 70s soft-porn flick at wide apertures, but don’t let that fool you. This lens can still pack a punch, especially when you stop it down and give it some breathing room.

But hey, no lens is perfect, right? And this one’s no exception. From wonky rangefinder issues on my Zorki 4k to a scratch on the rear element, using this lens had its quirks. But even in my hands you see the magic it can create and I think that’s enough to forgive its imperfections.

So, is it worth the hype and the hefty price tag? Well, that’s for you to decide. But for me, this lens is more than just a piece of glass—it’s a ticket to a bygone era, a reminder of the glory days of photography. And hey, if it was good enough for war photographers dodging bullets, it’s good enough for me. So here’s to you, Nikon 5cm f/1.4, you may be old, but you’ve still got it where it counts.

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.

Telephoto Film Photography on a Budget

I will begin this article with a quick disclaimer. I am NOT a wildlife photographer.

Wildlife photography requires lightning sharp reflexes and a good knowledge of your subject matter. My reflexes are like molasses and while I know my camera pretty well, I’m not used to wielding a long lens. And my understanding of wildlife reflects both my ignorance and complete lack of interest in anything remotely resembling ‘nature’.

I’ve spent my whole life avoiding birds and plants. There’s something about birds in particular. The way they fix you with those beadie little eyes. That quiet prehistoric malevolence, you know they’re just waiting for a chance to attack. I’ve seen the Hitchcock movie.

So moderate your expectations before you settle in. It’s not that I’m dismissive of the genre. There is definitely something special about wildlife photographers and I love experiencing their forays through nature, vicariously at least, on YouTUBE. There’s something calming about the way they can just sit there in a hide waiting for something to happen while munching on their apples and egg and cress sandwiches. Sure I can slash through the undergrowth with my sigma like it’s a machete and I am the right age and gender – and actually my wife can make a pretty mean salad roll but I have neither knowledge, nor patience, so I’ll leave the flora and fauna philosophy to those far more experienced than I am. Instead, I will just describe my own personal experience using a Sigma 170-500mm f/5-6.3 DG APO lens, trying to capture the wildlife of Lake Monger in Perth, Western Australia.

About the Sigma 170-500mm f/5-6.3 DG APO

So what can we say about the Sigma 170-500mm f/5-6.3? Firstly… yes, it’s slow. It has an aperture smaller than the eye of a needle and it focuses glacially, loping backwards and forwards like me trying to learn to samba.

But it’s sharp enough when it finally finds its subject. The lens is apochromatic, which is what scientists say to sound cool and basically means that the glass elements focus in such a way that the individual colours don’t smear to create that horrible colour fringing you see in some high contrast scenarios, like shooting leaves with the sun behind them. All made possible by an aspherical lens and three special low dispersion or SLD lenses. But let’s forget the spec sheet, what’s it like in the hand?

Well yes, it’s big. Robust and manly in appearance with hard plastic ridges and a sense of purpose, that purpose being ‘I’m going to be as indiscreet as possible as I try to take photos through the motel window to blackmail you with later’. It’s not one to take to your daughter’s netball game.

It also trombones badly when you want reach and with no focus lock, it suffers badly from zoom creep when hanging down. Insert gratuitous penis joke here.

Anyway, it’s not a discreet lens, which is a shame because it’s surprisingly light.  About 1.3 kilos, I was able to sling it over my shoulder happily for a couple of hours and handhold all of my shots.

Pros and Cons

One negative is obviously the size and it has an 86mm filter thread so if I were to buy a polariser for this thing it would probably cost as much as the lens itself.

The small aperture combines with another negative – It doesn’t have Vibration Reduction. That means if you’re zoomed in to 500mm you’re probably going to want to shoot at a shutter speed of 1/1000th of a second. The way I dealt with that was I shot Ilford HP5 pushed to ISO 1600 on a sunny day so it wasn’t an issue. It also brought a bit of contrast and crunch to the images that probably added to the perceptual sharpness.

That said, I’d say the sharpness of this lens is already a pro. While it’s not going to even approach the sharpness of a Nikon 70-200 f/2.8, that doesn’t have the focal range that this does. Same with a 300-500mm focal length. You get the reach but you’re stuck if you want to rack back to something closer. And you can forget carrying both of those out into the field with you. That’s not even considering the cost of two high end zooms.

This lens gets mixed reviews. If you look online you’ll find people saying not sharp beyond 300mm. Others say, use a sturdy tripod and find critical focus of a slow moving subject and it’s a razor. I tend to side with the latter. But it highlights the fact that you need good technique to be able to get the most out of this or any other vintage long telephoto zoom for that matter.

One thing’s for sure, It’s a dream on the Nikon N65. It’s like the camera this lens was made for each other, particularly with include an MB-17 battery grip accessory. I didn’t have it with me on the day and I probably should have – the grip makes you look a bit pro, whereas this just looks kinda daft. I didn’t really feel I needed it, though, and it made for a lighter and leas threatening set up.

Recommendation

Should you get this lens? Sure, if you can find it at a good price. I worry a bit that this blog is turning into a forum for me to brag about how cheap I am but it probably pays to be patient if you’re looking. It’s a solid lens but the bulk, build quality, screw focusing and lack of VR mean it doesn’t always get the love it deserves and you might find it cheap. For me in 2022 that was around AU$200, though it tends to go for more on eBay.

As for wildlife photography… I’d like to get better at it. I DO need to develop a bit more patience, though. Give me 30 years and I mightget there.

When I do, God help me, I’ll be one of ‘those’ photographers. I’ve actually been eying of a beige tactical vest on Ali Express that I’m sure is designed for people who want to shoot up high schools but I can really see myself slipping a lens cap, spare battery and muesli bar into the pockets and hunting down that perfect sea egret. I just plan to keep challenging myself. I do think trying other genres, even if you’re not good at them is how you grow as a photographer.

If you do want to witness my growth (and I’m not talking about lens size here) then keep reading this blog and subscribe to me here and on YouTube.