Wednesday, February 17, 2010

digital/analog

Every year, Outside magazine features an article on “perfect things.” In the past the magazine has focused on specific products but this year expanded its list to encompass an array of more general items. As an example, “empty trail heads” is one of the 51 perfect things mentioned. Another item, number 4 on their list was “film cameras” which Outside magazine justifies thusly: “(Film cameras) instantly take you back to a time when each snap mattered, when you were more thoughtful, more deliberate, more discriminating – the way a good photographer should be.”

This reminded me of my own renewed experience with my film camera. A few years ago, my co-worker, Adrienne, asked me to shoot photos of her and her then fiance for her wedding announcement. I came armed with my digital SLR and my older film SLR as a back-up. I did not come with a set of back-up batteries for my digital SLR however, and was forced to revert to the film camera when the batteries in the DSLR became depleted.

Two things quickly became evident upon the switch: I had lost my confidence in my photographic ability without the immediate feedback of the digital image, and the feel of a traditional camera – the motor as it advanced the film, the distinctive “click” as the shutter curtain completed its path across the film plane, the solid tactile properties of the internal mechanics – was a thing of beauty I had forgotten. Another revelation: once I had reviewed the processed film, the inherent difference in a traditional photographic image versus a digital image became evident.

The film images had a warmer, smoother and more natural quality. The dynamic range captured by film is infinitely superior to that of digital, resulting in a richer, more detailed image (see above image, an outtake from that shoot). How is it I could have forgotten this so quickly? Essentially, I had become addicted to the immediacy of digital images over the quality of film. The instant gratification factor of digital is responsible for fueling the migration to digital and why film cameras are rapidly becoming the latest dinosaurs in the realm of technology.

As with any advance, certain attributes seem to be sacrificed to others. In most cases I suppose, the attributes sacrificed are acceptable trade-offs to the advantages gained. There are some older technologies like film, that make me wonder however.
As I've migrated from the older analog television (yes, yes, I know. As I've stated earlier, when it comes to making some expenditures, I'm very, very cheap)to the newer digital sets for example, I KNOW that I would prefer to receive a snowy analog signal over the stutter and pixellated breakup of a digital one. And what about the smooth fast forward and rewind images of a good old VHS tape versus the variable stutter of a DVD? Am I sounding like an old man reluctant to embrace the advances of a brave new world? Perhaps, but in my book, just because it’s digital doesn’t mean it’s better.

a lesson learned from chocolate

I have a friend who recently presented me with a small gift of Godiva Chocoiste (dark chocolate pearls with mint). Immediately after opening the impressive tin container, I popped one of the pearls into my mouth and in my characteristic way devoured the little sphere of delight in seconds. My friend, in keeping with her joie de vivre, instructed me that this was in fact, NOT the way to enjoy this treat. (I suspect "vulgar" may have crossed her mind as she watched me crunch happily on the piece of chocolate.) No, the little pearls of Chocoiste need to be SAVORED. They need to be nestled on one's tongue where they can languorously dissolve into a creamy, silky liquid that bathes the taste buds in a slow but steady stream of goodness (the endorphins bursting forth) that only chocolate can deliver.

Now, each time I reward myself with this treat, I try to dutifully observe this ritual of enjoyment. There is something to be said for savoring things and maximizing and prolonging the full sensual experience they afford. In general, life offers us a full array of experiences and events that should be savored. We all need to check ourselves and the pace of our lives and live more in the moment (which I realize is a tired and overused phrase, but hopefully you'll forgive me for want of a better one). Otherwise, too many wonderful occurrences will pass without being fully appreciated. We will miss the small pearls of joy that we encounter. Like those pearls of delicious dark chocolate from Godiva, we should try to let them last as long as possible.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Martin Scorsese

Terrence Rafferty of the NY Times just reviewed "Shutter Island," Martin Scorsese's latest film. As you may be aware, my brief encounter with Mr. Scorsese (note my tone of respect and awe here) in an elevator of the Waldorf Astoria, his present place of residence, was one of the highlights of my life. I had a similar encounter with Stephen Hawking once, which was also thrilling, but I digress . . .

In the review, the author describes the gifted director:

"His dress is age appropriate: dignified (neutral-color sport coat, good shoes) but casual (no tie). His rapid-fire, unmistakenly New York conversational style is slightly less manic than it once was, a tad more patient: his characteristic manner now is one of affable enthusiasm, like a hip priest."

Take my word for it, that's EXACTLY what Martin Scorsese is, a hip priest.