My Final Camera

Supercamera! The Fuji X-H1 with detachable battery

grip and Fuji 27mm (42mm equiv.) f2.8 lens.

Writing about (and reliving) our experiences in Eastern Europe 30 years ago was surprisingly intense for me. The writing part was relatively easy, because I had written most of it on a yellow legal pad as we traveled. But the memories revived by the photographs and the text were, as I said, surprisingly intense.

So this is a transition post. A decompression post, if you will. From the sublime to the trivial.

The title of this blog, “A Life in Photography,” means that sometimes I’ll write about photography, sometimes I’ll write about life, and most of the time I’ll write about my life as a photographer. But today, I’m going to write about photography, and more specifically, about cameras. So if that doesn’t interest you, thanks for checking in, and feel free to move on.

In 2017, I switched to the Fuji X series of cameras. I had been using Canon since 1993, first their film cameras, and then making the move with them to digital in 2003. In 2010 I added Olympus digital micro 4/3s cameras and lenses as a secondary system because of their small size and light weight.

 

The Canon EOS 5D with the Canon EF24-85mm f3.5-4.5

lens, one of the smaller and lighter zoom lenses in the

Canon lineup, weighs in at just under three pounds.

A pair of Olympus OM-D E-M5s with an Olympus 45mm f1.8 lens

(90mm equiv.) and a Panasonic Lumix 14-140mm f3.5-5.6

(28-280mm equiv.)  lens weighs slightly more than three pounds.

 

I used the Canon system for weddings and commercial work and the m4/3s system for travel and general carry-around. The Canons were super-reliable and the image quality was great, but a pair of bodies and three or four lenses made quite a heavy package. And though at six-one and 215 pounds I’m no runt, I’ve always hated to carry more weight than necessary. The Olympus OM-D E-M5s were small and light and good for many things, but I was never completely happy with their image quality. 

Dall sheep, Denali National Park, Alaska. Olympus

OM-D E-M5, Panasonic Lumix 14-140mm f3.5-5.6.

This was taken at about the equivalent of 250mm.

100% crop from above. Maybe the micro 4/3s

image quality wasn't all that bad, after all.

(But I couldn't always get results this good.)

Enter Fuji. I had been reading about the Fuji X-system cameras for some time on various blogs and websites, and finally decided to dip my toe in the water. My first purchase was a used X-Pro-1, with the 16-50mm (24-75mm equivalent) f3.5-5.6 kit lens, which turned out to be amazingly sharp. I soon added X-T1 and X-T20 bodies, both of which I liked.

However, it wasn't long before I realized that the menus on each camera were slightly different. Not very different, just enough that before I changed a setting I had to think for a moment about which button to push or which dial to spin. Not good, in a fast-working situation.

I realized that for work I needed cameras with identical controls. I was thinking about getting a pair of X-T2s when I came across a young man who needed money and wanted to sell his X-H1, the flagship of the Fuji fleet, in like-new condition and complete with the battery grip, which will make the camera balance better with my heavy Canon flash.

It's slightly larger and heavier than my other Fujis, and the handling seemed a bit strange as first. But I quickly became acclimated, and now it feels just right. The more I use it, the better I like it. This camera is so solid and well-built that I think I can get by with just the one body, with the X-Pro1 as emergency backup.

The amazing thing is that for some reason, perhaps because it's a little different from the other Fuji bodies, The X-H1 did not sell well and the manufacturer cut the price drastically. This camera offers higher quality and more capability for less money than any camera I've ever heard of.

Michael Johnston, editor of The Online Photographer blog, which you should be reading, if you're not already, had this to say about the X-H1: "It strikes me as a simply amazing camera; virtually everything on it is well thought out and beautifully implemented, and works smoothly and effectively."

So, is this really my final camera? Probably not, since camera bodies are like security blankets to me. But it could be, because it's certainly all the camera I'll ever need.

(But if I do get another camera it will be another X-H1. Identical controls, remember?)

Soli Deo Gloria

Eastern Europe 1990: Final Observations

First Observation: Socialism Doesn't Work.

Near the Berlin Wall: a memorial to those who were
killed trying to escape to freedom in West Berlin.

One of my initial impressions was that things in Eastern Europe were not as bad as I  had been led to believe. However, first impressions aren't always correct. The people of Eastern Europe, like people everywhere, did the best they could to cope with the situation in which they found themselves, but that could not hide the fact that they were living out the consequences of a failed system. 

The meat display shelves in Sofia's largest supermarket.

Under Socialism, everyone is equal. No one has anything.

Socialism, far from providing for everyone an equal and abundant share of good things, provided endless scarcity. Standing in line to obtain basic necessities was a daily routine. In West Germany, people drove Volkswagens and Mercedes; in East Germany, people drove Trabants, a tiny plastic car with a motorcycle engine, and waited years to be permitted to buy one.
 

Standing in line for the basic necessities was

a normal way of life in Soviet Russia,

as in all the Iron Curtain countries.

 
And because Socialism requires unanimity, there could be no dissent. Since Socialism was a system invented to give man a way forward without a God who is not believed to exist, those who believe in God must be ostracized, persecuted, and eliminated if possible. Christian believers found the doors of higher education, good jobs, even decent living quarters closed to them. Even so distinguished a man as Dr. Zaprometer, a noted biochemist, was a believer in secret for fear of losing his position as a scientist and teacher.

The symbol of the Union of Soviet Socialist

Republics is everywhere in Moscow.

It was even against the law in many countries to own a Bible. By 1990, it was estimated that there were no more than 250,000 Bibles in all the Soviet Union.

And religious persecution was a very real thing. All over Eastern Europe, believers met in secret, in constant fear of the authorities and their secret police. Pavelle Ignatov, a leader of the Pentecostal movement in Bulgaria, was arrested ten times between 1981 and 1990, lost his job nine times, was continually harassed by the government, and had his life threatened. Countless other believers lost their jobs and were denied privileges such as access to schools and better housing. Many were beaten and imprisoned. Yet, the church in Bulgaria grew 600 percent during this time.

A memorial to a young girl in Timisoara

killed by Ceausesqu's forces.

But Communism? It never worked. Any time, anywhere. It never brought anything but death. By conservative estimate, more than 100 million people lost their lives in the 20th century as a direct result of attempts to establish Marxism in its various forms -- socialism, fascism, Nazism, and communism.

Second Observation: The Hospitality Trap and the Scheduling Trap. 

Ferdinand and Lydia Karel. Gracious

hosts, but in some ways too helpful.

In all of this, we found the people of Eastern Europe to be unfailingly warm, gracious, and endlessly hospitable. So much so that the Hospitality Trap was a real hindrance in our work.As I said in a previous post, everywhere we went, these gracious people wanted to share with us the best of their food. We couldn't eat it all, but neither did we want to disappoint them. It was always difficult to avoid gorging ourselves but still return graciousness for graciousness. 

Likewise, our hosts did not understand the work of documentary photographers, as indeed, few do. Consequently, we spent too much time being treated as guests or being shown things that were only tangentially relevant to our mission, and  not nearly enough time finding and photographing the things that would help us put their ministries into the context of the life of the community and the nation. But in each country we did our best to create an accurate, although limited, portrait of the nation as we found it.

 Third Observation: Louise Jenkins is the World's Greatest Travel Companion.

 

David and Louise Jenkins at the wedding of their

son Don to Kimberly Keith, June, 1990.

(Photo by Alan Vandergriff)

It was a total delight to have her with me on this trip. Besides doing a great job as a videographer, she took every situation in her stride and was never daunted by hardships or problems. And she is very pleasant to look at.

Fourth Observation: Communism is not dead.

In the 1990s, after the fall of the Soviet Union, many people believed Communism was dead. Being a contrarian, I said, "No, Communism is not dead. The Soviet Union is dead, but Communism is alive and well and living in the faculty lounges and classrooms of America's colleges and universities."

I was right.

(Photographs made with Olympus OM and Leica M cameras and lenses, Fujichrome 100D and 400D films.) 

Soli Deo Gloria

Eastern Europe 1990: An Interlude in Vienna

Saint Stephen's Cathedral, the center of Roman

Catholic worship in Vienna, was completed in 1433.

The tourist agency helped us find a reasonably-priced "pension" in a good, central-Vienna location. Checking in, we found the staff helpful and the room pleasant in an old European style. The Pension Andreas occupies the third floor of one of those massive, old, five or six-story buildings which seem to occupy most of Vienna's blocks, and is about a block and a half from the church where Beethoven is buried.

Pink Volkswagen, anyone?

By this time it was about 8 p.m. and we were hungry, so we went looking for food. Supper for two at a nearby Chinese restaurant set us back about $34. Everything in Vienna costs three or four times what we were used to paying in Chattanooga. If I describe the cost of something in Vienna as "reasonable," remember that it's all relative.

Normally I'm a nightowl, but when you're traveling, especially on a working trip, you take your rest when you can get it. And we did get a very good night's sleep.

Monday, March 26  The next morning we had the "free" breakfast in the hotel's breakfast room -- the usual meat, cheese, jam, and so-so coffee. But a good deal compared with the price of breakfast on the town.

Crowds in the Kartnerstrass, a pedestrian street which

links the opera house with St. Stephen's Cathedral.

And then we were off for two days footloose in Vienna, like two kids let out of school! We had picked up maps and tourist brochures, but found it all very confusing, especially the transit system. Finally we took the plunge and bought passes and set off for the center of town. I carried cameras, of course, but Louise, exhausted from carrying the heavy S-VHS camera around Eastern Europe, left it in the room.

The monument to the composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

was erected in 1896 in the Burggarten in Vienna.

All kinds of people enjoy a sunny March day in Vienna.

Louise took the opera house tour and enjoyed it very much, while I photographed the area around St. Stephan's Cathedral. Pizza and salad for lunch set us back $20. In the late afternoon we took subway and tram about 12 miles to the end of the line -- a town called Boden -- to see the Roman ruins. By this time it was nearly dark and too late to see the ruins if we had found them. We found instead a lovely park, a good supper of roast beef and potatoes, a friendly waitress, and more reasonable prices. It took us a little time to find the station, but we eventually got back to the pension, tired and satisfied.

The Anker Clock was created by the painter and sculptor

Franz Matsch and completed in 1914.

Tuesday, March 27  The day dawned gray and gloomy and stayed that way. I spent some time trying to find out if any part of the Iron Curtain fence was still standing between Czechoslovakia and Austria  that I could photograph. I was informed that the fence was being taken down by the Czechs and no one knew for sure where to find the remaining sections. I would like to have had the photographs, but it looked likely to be a wild goose chase. So, we went out to see more of Vienna.

Pavement art in the Kartnerstrasse.

The weather put a damper on picture-taking, and Louise was tired from the previous day's walking, After a light lunch ($20 -- not much today, but this was 1990) I took her back for a nap and went out for a while by myself. The light was still bad.

A stained glass window in St. Stephen's Cathedral.

Later, we took the tram to the McDonald's on the Franz Joseph Quay, then back to the Karntnerstrass, but the crowds had gone, and with them apparently, the street musicians. And it was starting to rain. So we went back to our room and began packing for our 7:10 a.m. flight.

Everything was fine until we came to security, where they flatly refused to hand-inspect my film. This was important, because airport x-rays can damage film. I stood my ground and asked to speak to the person in charge. They kept us waiting until 15 minutes before take-off, when a senior person showed up and passed us through without even looking at my film! That was life before digital cameras.

And then home, after 21 days of intensive, fascinating, enjoyable travel and work.

(Photographs made with Olympus OM and Leica M cameras and lenses, Fujichrome 100D and 400D films.) 

Soli Deo Gloria

Eastern Europe 1990: A Portrait of Poland

Bethany Church of God is building a 2500-seat

worship center on a site that was once a swamp.

Saturday, March 24   After tub baths, which we were getting used to and tired of at the same time, we were taken to the church for breakfast. It was the usual eastern European cold cuts, cheese, and jam, but it was good. (Or maybe we're just getting used to it.) And lots of that good coffee!

After breakfast we were taken to the  site where the church's new, 2500-seat worship center is under construction. In an attempt to "get rid of the Pentecostals" by appearing to give them something while actually giving them nothing, the city gave the church four and a half acres in a prime location near the intersection of two main arteries. The catch was that the land was a worthless swamp. But to their surprise, the despised Pentecostals drained the swamp, Filled it with dirt, and proceeded to build.

The Black Market in Katowici looks much like an

American flea market that has fallen on hard times.

Paul had to give a seminar at the church, so we went out to photograph the Black Market, which looks very much like a U.S. flea market fallen on hard times. Then back for another Polish dinner (these folks apparently don't do lunch) and more of that great coffee. (Do you detect a coffee addict rescued from withdrawal here?)

Farmers in rural Poland still plant

potatoes in the old-fashioned way.

After the meal we were driven around town and out into the countryside, where we found farmers doing their spring plowing and people planting potatoes in the traditional way. Then back into town, where we photographed a group of young people from the church holding a street meeting in the town center. Playing their instruments, singing, and then preaching, they had attracted a good-sized crowd. 

A group of young people from Bethany Church

hold a street meeting in the Town Center.

For the rest of the day we were ferried from Bible studies to home churches to children's meetings to music groups, with hardly time to catch our breath. But we did our job as best we could and when we got back to the hotel were very glad to call it a night. As the trip winds down and the excitement and adrenaline ebb away we feel the weariness more and more.

Faces of Poland

 

A young singer at the street meeting.

Anna, the Karel's 11-year-old granddaughter

is a budding concert pianist.

Ferdinand and Lydia Karel. Graciousness personified.

 

Sunday, March 25   We were tired and moving slowly this morning, but since we were leaving Poland that afternoon, we had to be packed and checked out of the hotel before being picked up at 8:15 for breakfast and the church service.

Breakfast was the usual meat and cheese, but redeemed again by great coffee. The church service was packed with people, which made it difficult to move around, and the lighting was not-very-bright fluorescent. But we covered everything thoroughly. The Polish Pentecostals are quite unrestrained in their worship. I'm sure I witnessed several solo performances of Polish folk dances. Or something.

Sunday morning worship at Bethany Church. Getting

good color under mismatched fluorescent lights

was notoriously difficult when shooting film.

After a great lunch with the Karels, we loaded ourselves into the church van for an hour's drive to the airport, near Krakow, and were soon on our way to Vienna and some badly needed R&R.

Our time in Katowici was altogether too structured. Having only united with the Church of God a year earlier, Pastor Karel and his associates were eager to show their new denomination the effectiveness of their ministry. However, they did not understand the work of documentary photographers, as indeed, few do. Consequently, we spent too much time photographing various aspects of the church's ministry and not nearly enough time documenting the things that would put that ministry into the context of the life of the community and the nation. I'll have more to say about this in an upcoming post. 

(Photographs made with Olympus OM and Leica M cameras and lenses, Fujichrome 100D and 400D films.) 

Soli Deo Gloria