Propel RC Stealth Flyer II

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: Never too late for a happy kidhood.

The Long Version: Driving around in circles is just pretty dumb, and that's where all of my radio-controlled car purchases have ended up. So I've mostly learned to resist the siren call of toys that would amuse a 12-year-old, no matter how much I think I would really like one, and have missed out on the whole remote-controlled helicopter thing until now.

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: Never too late for a happy kidhood.

The Long Version: Driving around in circles is just pretty dumb, and that's where all of my radio-controlled car purchases have ended up. So I've mostly learned to resist the siren call of toys that would amuse a 12-year-old, no matter how much I think I would really like one, and have missed out on the whole remote-controlled helicopter thing until now.

Penny went to Radio Shack and bought me the "Propel RC Stealth Flyer II" – hereafter 'toy helicopter' – for Christmas. This is a small and simple toy, being seven inches nose-to-tail with a six inch rotor span, weighing nothing, and with only throttle and direction controls. There's no ability to hover or control its speed, and it invariably turns quickly in one direction and slowly in the other, so even that expectation of left-right control is somewhat illusory. This is not a precision machine.

But complexity is not a prerequisite for enjoyment. The toy helicopter gives just enough control to influence its actions but not enough to be accountable for the results. When it crashes – and it will crash, and often – it's just an amusing little wince, and when a flight ends in a wheels-down landing I feel a completely unjustified sense of accomplishment.

The toy helicopter has a surprising amount of power, so it's very easy to over-do the throttle and send it crashing into something. Even a measured and controlled flight is likely to involve impacts, and I'm continually amazed at the incredible durability of this toy. It routinely sucks itself into the ceiling – the opposite of ground effect – and then tumbles to the floor, and/or crashes into walls, and seems to have a magical attraction to the back of the couch. I've worn the paint from its nose and scoured the top pair of rotor blades, but it still flies like a champ.

The easiest way to launch the helicopter is to hold it by the tail and run up the rotors until it's stable and generating enough lift to hold itself up. It's very easy to over-do the throttle, so this allows a measured beginning. This works best when the L/R trim controls have been adjusted for straight flight, because it does take a second or two to have both hands back on the remote.

Taking off from a hard, smooth surface is challenging. Despite the twin counter-rotating propellers the helicopter will still torque itself around and end up heading off in an unexpected direction. Couple that with the extra bolt of power needed to get airborne, and the necessity of throttling down in anticipation of its slow reaction times, and it's likely to end in tragedy. Or in amusement, depending on your perspective.

Launching from an upholstered surface that keeps the helicopter facing forward helps tremendously. One of the challenges that I set myself is to start from my desk chair, fly across the dining room, maybe throw in a quick circle of the living room, and then land on the couch. In the fifteen or twenty short flights that I manage on a charge maybe one will end in triumph, while the rest end in amusement.

The helicopter recharges by tethering it to the controller; the infrared controller runs on six AA batteries, and they last a surprisingly long time. As the helicopter's power runs down it gradually loses the ability to lift itself, so there's plenty of warning that it needs to recharge. By then it's usually time to put it away before someone gets hurt, so it's all for the best.

A nice touch with the helicopter is that it has white and blue LED running lights on the nose and tail, respectively, which makes it a lot of fun to fly in dimmer light. They're also quite practical, as otherwise it can be tough to see which way the helicopter is facing from one moment to the next. And given how quickly it can spin this can be very important.

The LED lights have another practical application as well. To sync up properly the helicopter needs to be turned on before the controller; when they're communicating the `copter's rear blue LED gives three quick flashes and then continues to blink. If the helicopter's unresponsive and the lights are solid, just flip the controller off and on again. Propel RC gets bonus points for combining 'fun' with 'functional' – how often does that happen for inexpensive electronic toys?

The toy helicopter is surprisingly loud; I can only use it when Penny's not home because just hearing it from another room – whirring away and abruptly crashing into things – stresses her out. The abrupt ends of each flight can be a little intimidating, but the combination of hinged rotor blades and extremely light weight means that the helicopter has yet to break anything. And yes, I've flown it into myself on occasion, and while it doesn't tickle, it also doesn't cut or bruise. The key is to cut power when there's an impending impact and let the helicopter fall where it may.

This toy helicopter has struck – if you'll pardon the pun – an excellent balance. It's durable and powerful enough to enjoy, and not so expensive that I'm concerned about hurting it. It gives enough control to be fun but not enough to be the helicopter equivalent of the predictability of driving around in circles. It's one of those rare times that something "better", in whatever way that means, probably wouldn't be an actual improvement. Two months after Christmas I'm still using and enjoying it, which is pretty awesome for a toy that's meant for a twelve-year-old.

last updated 25 feb 2013

Penny went to Radio Shack and bought me the "Propel RC Stealth Flyer II" – hereafter 'toy helicopter' – for Christmas. This is a small and simple toy, being seven inches nose-to-tail with a six inch rotor span, weighing nothing, and with only throttle and direction controls. There's no ability to hover or control its speed, and it invariably turns quickly in one direction and slowly in the other, so even that expectation of left-right control is somewhat illusory. This is not a precision machine.

But complexity is not a prerequisite for enjoyment. The toy helicopter gives just enough control to influence its actions but not enough to be accountable for the results. When it crashes – and it will crash, and often – it's just an amusing little wince, and when a flight ends in a wheels-down landing I feel a completely unjustified sense of accomplishment.

The toy helicopter has a surprising amount of power, so it's very easy to over-do the throttle and send it crashing into something. Even a measured and controlled flight is likely to involve impacts, and I'm continually amazed at the incredible durability of this toy. It routinely sucks itself into the ceiling – the opposite of ground effect – and then tumbles to the floor, and/or crashes into walls, and seems to have a magical attraction to the back of the couch. I've worn the paint from its nose and scoured the top pair of rotor blades, but it still flies like a champ.

The easiest way to launch the helicopter is to hold it by the tail and run up the rotors until it's stable and generating enough lift to hold itself up. It's very easy to over-do the throttle, so this allows a measured beginning. This works best when the L/R trim controls have been adjusted for straight flight, because it does take a second or two to have both hands back on the remote.

Taking off from a hard, smooth surface is challenging. Despite the twin counter-rotating propellers the helicopter will still torque itself around and end up heading off in an unexpected direction. Couple that with the extra bolt of power needed to get airborne, and the necessity of throttling down in anticipation of its slow reaction times, and it's likely to end in tragedy. Or in amusement, depending on your perspective.

Launching from an upholstered surface that keeps the helicopter facing forward helps tremendously. One of the challenges that I set myself is to start from my desk chair, fly across the dining room, maybe throw in a quick circle of the living room, and then land on the couch. In the fifteen or twenty short flights that I manage on a charge maybe one will end in triumph, while the rest end in amusement.

The helicopter recharges by tethering it to the controller; the infrared controller runs on six AA batteries, and they last a surprisingly long time. As the helicopter's power runs down it gradually loses the ability to lift itself, so there's plenty of warning that it needs to recharge. By then it's usually time to put it away before someone gets hurt, so it's all for the best.

A nice touch with the helicopter is that it has white and blue LED running lights on the nose and tail, respectively, which makes it a lot of fun to fly in dimmer light. They're also quite practical, as otherwise it can be tough to see which way the helicopter is facing from one moment to the next. And given how quickly it can spin this can be very important.

The LED lights have another practical application as well. To sync up properly the helicopter needs to be turned on before the controller; when they're communicating the `copter's rear blue LED gives three quick flashes and then continues to blink. If the helicopter's unresponsive and the lights are solid, just flip the controller off and on again. Propel RC gets bonus points for combining 'fun' with 'functional' – how often does that happen for inexpensive electronic toys?

The toy helicopter is surprisingly loud; I can only use it when Penny's not home because just hearing it from another room – whirring away and abruptly crashing into things – stresses her out. And as my audio recording of the helicopter attests, the abrupt ends of each flight can be a little intimidating, but the combination of hinged rotor blades and extremely light weight means that the helicopter has yet to break anything. And yes, I've flown it into myself on occasion, and while it doesn't tickle, it also doesn't cut or bruise. The key is to cut power when there's an impending impact and let the helicopter fall where it may.

This toy helicopter has struck – if you'll pardon the pun – an excellent balance. It's durable and powerful enough to enjoy, and not so expensive that I'm concerned about hurting it. It gives enough control to be fun but not enough to be the helicopter equivalent of the predictability of driving around in circles. It's one of those rare times that something "better", in whatever way that means, probably wouldn't be an actual improvement. Two months after Christmas I'm still using and enjoying it, which is pretty awesome for a toy that's meant for a twelve-year-old.

last updated 25 feb 2013

Nikon 1 V1, Part 3

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: Adequate verging on sufficient.

The Long Version: Welcome to the third instalment of my overly-long-running review of the obsolete Nikon 1 V1. Part one was mostly getting the negatives out of the way, while part two took a sunnier view on things. Now it's finally time to look at the image quality of the camera that I've nicknamed "that stupid f'cking little piece of sh't". But don't read too much into that – I give affectionate nicknames to many of my cameras.

The first thing you need to know about image quality is that the V1 really wants to have a shutter speed of 1/30s, and won't increase its iso sensitivity to go faster than that. This is fine for the 10-30mm, and almost acceptable with good technique with the 30-110mm, as they both have in-lens image stabilization. The unstabilized 10mm f/2.8 should also be good with this – I don't own it to test – but the camera isn't clever enough to boost its minimun shutter speed with the 18.5mm, which is a 50mm-equivalent.

Let me tell you, 1/30 at 50mm isn't nearly fast enough to avoid camera shake with this lightweight little LCD-based camera. And this isn't just a 'low light' thing – I've run into its limitations on a cloudy day. This camera can't be trusted to do its own thing, and needs to be actively managed.

I'm generally happy with the V1 up to about iso800, which looks a little like iso6400 on my D800, but iso400 and under does create a significantly better file. I've printed the Rubbermaid photo above, taken at iso1000, as an 18x12, and it shows noise and artifacts under critical examination. Especially for higher iso settings, the modest per-pixel image quality makes low-DPI prints and uprezzing more difficult than usual. Yes, plenty of people make big prints from low-resolution cameras, but noise and noise removal – even with raw files – will make marginal prints from the V1 break up and look digital in a bad way.

On the other hand, the shipping container photo below, at a functionally identical iso900, passed scrutiny that's much more incisive than mine at the same size. Content matters tremendously, and it's overly simplistic to set an absolute limit on what will and won't be satisfactory ahead of time. My lesson from this is to use the shutter speed and aperture that the camera and photo requires, respectively, and let the iso sort itself out. Yes, this sometimes leads to disappointment, but I'd rather have a noisy photo than a blurry one, or worse, no photo at all.

But for web-sized images or snapshots none of this really matters. Properly managed, with the camera forced to use a sensible shutter speed and a reasonable iso setting, the V1's image quality is actually pretty decent. Coupled with its small lenses the V1 is a great camera for wandering around the city with, and I wouldn't feel foolish carrying it as my only camera for any multi-day trip that doesn't have photography as its primary goal.

The V1 lacks the modern nicety of having lens distortion correction built into the camera, and all of the lenses would benefit from it. Fortunately both Lightroom and DxO Optics, the two programs I use, support most of the 1's lenses. I'm just waiting for the 18.5mm lens to be supported, and when that finally catches up then I'll never hesitate to use it.

As a three-lens kit the V1 with the 10-30, 30-110, and fast normal 18.5mm prime makes for a flexible combination. Of the three the 30-110 is my favourite, and it seems to be a bit better than the 10-30, but really all of them are about as good as the camera. That's not a ringing endorsement, it's true, but this isn't an inherently exciting system.

Even at 'only' 10 megapickles, the V1's pixel density would make for a 74Mpx full-frame sensor, so designing appropriately small and inexpensive lenses is a major accomplishment. I've rounded out my lens options by adding the FT-1 adapter to my kit, and can't say that even the best F-mount lenses really blow me away on the V1, either. More on that in yet another review instalment, but for now the short version is that the 1-system lenses are fine.

When compared to recent cameras its image quality offers few surprises. It's generally better than smaller compact cameras that cost about the same amount of money as the 1V1's fire-sale prices, and not as good as larger-sensored cameras that cost more. And despite all of my griping, it actually compares quite favourably to older cameras that I've used extensively, such as the Olympus E-3 or Panasonic GH1, which remain some of the better 4/3 sensors out there.

The V1's image quality is good enough for pretty much everything that I usually do, so I know I'll have generally decent results from it, but it's tough being the little brother to a D800. The V1 is the camera that I carry when I'm carrying something else, whether it's a bigger camera that will benefit from the V1's small size and zoom lenses, or my audio kit that benefits from its silence.

So despite being deeply flawed as a photo-taking device, the reality is that the V1 makes an excellent sidekick, and there isn't a camera out there that would be a better match for my needs. Yes, that's a little sad in many ways, but that's just the way it is some times.

last updated 18 feb 2013

Sigma 19mm and 30mm F2.8 EX DN E-Mount Lenses, Part 1

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: Never look a pair of gift lenses in the aperture.

The Long Version: I've been carrying two unique mirrorless camera systems for a while now. The first is µ4:3rds consisting of my µ4:3rds cameras (E-P2, E-PL1, E-PL2, and the OM-D E-M5) as well as a fair number of µ4:3rds lenses, some of which I've reviewed on this site. The other mirrorless camera system I've been carrying since late last year has been the Sony NEX, specifically the NEX-5N, which I picked up when it dropped precipitously in price right before the NEX-5R was announced (it has risen a bit in price since then).

So why did I buy the NEX-5N with all those other Olympus Pens lying about? Curiosity mainly. When I saw the low, low price of the 5N plus kit zoom, I figured the price was low enough to give the NEX a tryout. If it turned out bad I'd resell it and go on about my business. But the 5N turned out to be pretty good actually and so I kept it around. With regards to video it's turned out something close to phenomenal (but that's a review for another time).

Unlike the µ4:3rds system, I held back purchasing any other equipment for the camera beyond the 18-55mm kit lens the 5N was sold with. I wanted to investigate what the 5N was capable of on its own merits before making any kind of equipment expansion. While I was somewhat interested in the Sigma lenses when they were released for their still photography potential on the 5N, I was growing more interested in the 5N for its video capabilities and found the kit zoom to be more than adequate for my very modest video needs.

After their announcement the Sigma lenses began an inexorable slide in price, first down to $200/lens, then $150. Sometime around late January Sigma bundled both of them together for $199 ($99.50 each), which made the lenses irresistibly attractive to a cheapskate like me, so I bought them.

The bundle price was for both the µ4:3rds as well as E-mount versions. As luck would have it, the µ4:3rds sold out fairly quickly (that's where a good majority of the mirrorless camera enthusiasts seem to be) leaving plenty of E-mount lenses for the NEX system. I wouldn't have purchased the µ4:3rds versions because I already have those focal lengths pretty well covered with other lenses I own. From my perspective the 19mm and 30mm lenses make a lot more sense on the NEX body with its APS-C sensor; the 19mm gives an equivalent focal length of 28.5mm and the 30mm an equivalent focal length of 45mm. In other words, decent wide angle and normal primes.

The Problem With These Lenses

Before you go run off and buy copies of your own, you need to know the following:

1. These particular lenses have been discontinued, which is why they've been chopped down in price so much. Sigma has officially stated that they will be replaced with "Art" versions of these lenses in the future. And if it's an Art lens, it will cost more.
2. These lenses do not have built-in image stabilization. That means you'll need to work on your "camera technique", another way of saying you'll have to learn how to hold your camera steady in low light when aperture and ISO won't buy you a high enough shutter speed to be indifferently held. Tripods come to mind.

And Why You'll Buy Them Anyway

None of this will bother the true budget photographer. You'll purchase your copies, appreciate their value where others might not, and learn to use them regardless. While it could be argued their introductory MSRP might have been a tad too high, they're certainly worth what they're selling for now, which is one important reason I rate them as highly as I do.

The 19mm and 30mm have features which their more costly cohorts from other manufacturers lack at this price point, such as metal bayonets and lens hoods (at least a lens hood for the 19mm).

Both lenses use plastics quite heavily in their makeup, and both are blessed with quality metal bayonets. When I say they use plastics quite heavily, I mean that they spare nothing in the construction of the lens, especially the lens barrel itself. Both lenses are well-built and exude a level of fit and finish above their station.

And they are wonderfully black. I am so tired of seeing and/or buying silver and silvered lenses from Olympus and Sony. I hail from the Jurassic film period of 35mm photography, where every manly lens was metal and black anodized, with etched lettering everywhere. In these modern times the black anodized and etched metal has given way to industrial plastics with silk-screened lettering. I may grouse about the use of such, but I will at least grant that Sigma's use of silk-screened plastics is better than most (I'm looking at you Olympus and Sony).

Fitting one of these primes on the 5N produces a compact and enjoyable little camera system. The matte black finish of the Sigma lenses blends beautifully with the semi-gloss black finish of the 5N. The physical handling of the combination is superb. The operational handling (focusing and picture taking) is as good as the kit zoom. And this is why I like to have one or the other prime on the 5N instead of the zoom for still photography; at f/2.8, either lens' maximum aperture is 2/3rds to two stops wider than the kit lens at equivalent focal lengths. That's great for low-light photography.

Because the Sigma primes are black and smaller than the kit zoom, the overall combination is easier to carry and more inconspicuous in use. Even if you carry both primes with you (which I do), the total space occupied with the two primes plus the 5N is no more than the 5N with the kit zoom mounted. In practice I carry one prime in one pocket and the 5N with the other prime mounted slung over my shoulder or stuck in another jacket pocket.

That's it for now. In part two I will speak a bit more of their operation as well as display soul-searing (or is it eye-searing?) images made with the pair and the NEX-5N. In the mean time I leave you with this haunting image I made of poor Ruby, my yellow Lab, using the Sigma 30mm and the NEX-5N.

Oh, hell, not another test photo of me?
One day you're going to stick a camera in my face and
I'm going to grab it from you and bury it in the back yard
where you can't find it.

Technical

The hero photo at the top and the middle lens mount detail photo were taken with the Olympus E-M5 and the Zuiko Digital 50mm macro with the Olympus MMF-1 adapter. I used a pair of Fotodiox LED 312AS panels for lighting (thank you Kirk Tuck). Being lazy, I used the E-M5 instead of the E-1. And I mean lazy in that I didn't want to sit the camera on its tripod, use base ISO, and a very slow non-hand-holdable shutter speed. I hand-held the E-M5 and let it choose very high ISOs for both images (2500 for the top and 640 for the bottom). I have now put the E-1 away, and have no idea if I'll ever go back to it again.

last updated 16 feb 2013

Victorinox Bantam

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: The combo tool rules.

The Long Version: I've inadvertently started a collection of Swiss Army Knives, and February's SAK of the Month is the Bantam. It's about as simple as a Swiss Army Knife can be without living on a keychain, consisting of just a tweezer, toothpick, large blade and a combo tool. This is all accomplished with a single tool layer and those iconic red Cellidor scales, making the Bantam about as slim as a non-Alox SAK can be.

The Combo Tool is a clever little thing. It replaces the functions of both the flat screwdriver and the can opener, and takes the physical place of the small blade. This sheds an entire tool layer without really giving up any core abilities. The acute corner at the working end of the combo tool even makes a better Philips driver than the regular screwdriver or can opener can.

Despite its unsharpened edge, the combo tool does open cans. It may not be as speedy as the standard model, but I really don't care. If I'm using a Swiss Army Knife to open a can then I'm also going to be desperate enough to make the finer points of its effectiveness irrelevant. The SAK is better than finding a rough slab of concrete to use to grind away the seam around the lid, so mission accomplished. Let's face it: if I ever go camping and am willing to carry the weight of canned food, then bringing along one of the two normal can-openers from my kitchen isn't going to be the cause of my logistical nightmare.

While the Bantam is very thin for a plastic-scaled Victorinox, it's only slightly thinner than my heavy-duty Alox Electrician, and thicker than the Alox Cadet. The single tool layer and plastic scales also allow the knife to flex slightly when squeezed, so sometimes the combo tool binds on the knife when it's being folded away.

The Bantam has only one knife blade. I have to admit that I prefer dual blades, as I let the short one do most of the work and reserve the large blade for slicing paper or similar tasks. But giving up the small blade for the combo tool has proven to be a good compromise, and I carry the Bantam whenever I want something lighter-duty in my pocket.

last updated 11 feb 2013

Caran d'Ache 849 Office Pen

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's an acquired taste.

The Long Version: It's been four years since I reviewed my Caran d'Ache 849 in its snazzy "Metal X" slick finish. I've rarely carried anything else in the intervening years, and it shows in the finish – but those scrapes and marks are well-earned. I carry my pen clipped in my back pocket, alongside whichever pocket knife I'm carrying that day, so it's constantly up against very hard and typically square-edged tool steel. I actually like the pen more now that it shows some wear and personality – so much so that I've bought another one.

This new 849 in "oh-my-effing-god Orange" called to me from its shelf at Swipe. The colour amuses me. This pen has proven almost impossible to lose, either when it's next to me on my black desk or when I've left it on the far side of a large room. Orange is a tough colour – it's too easy to get it wrong and come away with something unappealing, and even when it works there's a lot of variation. The orange in my large Timbuk2 bag is more of a copper-yellow, my Blaze Orange toque has a lot more red in it. Even my mug in Pantone's 2012 Colour of the Year, 'Tangerine Tango', doesn't manage to out-orange this Caran d'Ache. Awesome.

Hopefully I'll be back in another four years with another update.

last updated 9 feb 2013

Olympus BCL-1580 15mm 1:8 Body Cap Lens

Concept: 5 out of 5
Execution: 5 out of 5
Yeah, but: So what if it's ranked 2,872^nd by DxOMark.

The Long Version: There's really not a lot to say about an all-plastic µ4:3rds prime that has just three lens elements, two focusing stops, and costs a mere US$49. You can read all the more flowery prose about this optical wonder on the web by those who've purchased their copy and then written about the experience. This lens was priced so low that even I, Mr. Penny Pincher Photographer (P3), was able to buy a copy without giving it a second thought. And I can honestly say it's worth every pinched penny I spent.

In a world where Holga and Instagram seemingly reign supreme, the BCL-1580 15mm prime is a down-to-earth non-pretentious alternative that will make quite reasonable photos (given enough daylight) if you concentrate on composition and story telling instead of the affectations of ultra-sharpness, shallow depth of field, and damnable bokeh (for which there is a special place in the ninth circle of Hell for the man who coined that term).

The BCL-1580 has no autofocus. You select either the infinity hyperfocal point or the close focus point at around 1 foot from the camera. 99% of the time it'll stay on infinity. It has only two glass elements, a small outward facing lens and a slighter larger inner lens facing the sensor. The aperture is a simple hole in a piece of plastic that sits centered between the two lens elements.

Even though it's not a Zuiko branded lens, somebody at Olympus still had the good sense to at least put some simple lens coating on at least the front glass element. It doesn't need much more than that, considering its one and only aperture setting is f/8. Because it has no focus motor it absolutely has no focus noise, and with its simple hole-drilled-in-a-plastic sheet aperture it has no aperture chatter (like the far more expensive Panasonic Leica 25mm 1:1.4). When it's mounted on a Pen there is no delay in turning the entire camera on or off, thus saving battery power because you don't have to wait to turn the camera back on. And if you break the BCL-1580 or it gets stolen, so what? It's cheap enough that you can go buy a new one.

It's a lens that will work with any Pen, from the original E-P1 to the latest Pens and OM-D. It can breath new life into a µ4:3rds body that's taken to sitting unwanted on the back shelf or unloved in the bottom of your bag. The lens, combined with any of the Pen's art filters, can produce any number of charming, interesting, Holga- and Instagram-beating photographs, with any subjects ranging from the urban core to what's left of the not-so-great out doors.

Some are want to call it the ultimate street photography lens. I use a less grandiose description; to me it's just about the best documentary lens I reach for when I want to go out and not have to worry about anything. The only other µ4:3rd lens I own that comes anywhere close is the Panasonic Lumix 14mm 1:2.5. Using the BCL-1580 strips away all vanity and pretense. It makes photographs, not a statement.

This little $49 gem is the ultimate µ4:3rds lens worth owning. If you can't use this lens and take simple enjoyment in using it, then you don't deserve to own or use any other. This is camera optics stripped down to its bare essentials. All other lenses are just more expensive and gilded versions of this little 15mm.

Technical

Top hero photo taken with an Olympus E-1 and Zuiko Digital 50mm 1:2 macro, lit by a single LED light panel. The next three photographs were taken with the 15mm mounted on my E-P2, the next four with the 15mm mounted on my E-PL1, and the last with the E-P2 + 15mm.

last updated 5 feb 2013

Olympus 75-300mm 1:4.8-6.7 II

M.Zuiko MSC 75-300mm 1:4.8-6.7 II zoom (photo Olympus)

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 2 out of 5
Yeah, but: Here we go again...

The Long Version: You're looking at the Mark II version of Olympus' only long native µ4:3rds zoom lens of any description. You can look over at Olympus' older 4:3rds mount lenses and note Olympus has at least three to choose from; the SG 70-300mm 1:4-5.6, the HG 50-200mm 1:2.8-3.5 and the SHG 90-250mm 1:2.8. Unfortunately, not so much choice with µ4:3rds.

In the beginning all µ4:3rds Olympus zooms stopped at 150mm (14-150mm 1:4-5.6 and 40-150mm 1:4-5.6). It wasn't until the original 75-300mm was released 31 August 2010 that Olympus had a "real" zoom that gave the Pen user a long focal length that at least matched the 4:3rds reach. The problem with the original 75-300mm was the initial MSRP of $900, for what was perceived by many (including me) as small and optically slow, especially at 300mm. I for one even refused to consider buying the lens because of the cost, its slow speed (especially when compared to the 50-200mm for just $200 more) and the unforgivable lack of weather sealing, especially for a lens that cost that much.

Original M.Zuiko MSC 75-300mm 1:4.8-6.7 zoom (photo Olympus)

At the time of the original zoom's release I was greatly unimpressed, so much that I even refused to go to a nearby camera store and even try it out.

Time passed and it would appear that the original 75-300mm languished on many a store shelf. Panasonic released it's own long zoom, the Lumix 100-300mm 1:4-5.6 zoom. The Panasonic zoom was interesting in that it was a half to two-thirds of a stop faster at both ends. Depending on who's review you read, it would appear that the Zuiko might have an edge in overall image quality, but then the Panasonic was good enough and was (and continues to be) offered for a mere $500, $400 less than the Olympus equivalent. A large majority have voted with their pocketbooks and purchased the Panasonic, while a very few, such as Torontowide, have embraced the 75-300mm and created quite good work with it. Yet here we are, 2+ years after its initial release, with the second version close to the Panasonic 100-300mm in price. Things that make you go "hmmm".

I actually need at least a 200mm native µ4:3rds lens, and the 75-300mm II is at least inexpensive enough to pull me into a camera store to try it out. Even though the optical speed is still the same slow values as before, the release of the Olympus E-M5 with excellent image quality all the way to ISO 3200 takes some of the sting out of the slowness of the zoom. Granted I would love to purchase a native µ4:3rds equivalent to the 50-200mm 1:2.8-3.5, I can live with a zoom that's one stop down from that.

Here's one for anyone who's listening in Olympus' marketing department: I would have paid $900 for the Mark I if it had been 1:4-5.6, it had come with a lens hood, and if it had been weather sealed. In fact, if they'd kept the price for the Mark II as the same for the Mark I and added weather sealing (and a lens hood) it would have drawn my credit card out of my wallet. I swear it appears form the outside that the Olympus lens engineering group and the body engineering group don't talk to one another. The E-M5 was released a year ago January 2012, which means that this new release could have been the third weather sealed lens to go with the E-M5, along with the 12-50mm and the 60mm macro. It isn't the amount of money I object to spending, it's the value for money spent. The older 75-300mm just didn't have a high enough value for the asking price, while the Mark II just barely based on the printed specifications...

I will probably try out the Mark II when it arrives on local camera store shelves, but I will not pre-order one. I'll put it on my E-M5 body and see how it performs. If its IQ is reasonable, especially at 200mm and beyond, then I'll more than likely purchase a copy. If anything, all Olympus has done is convince me to give the Mark II a try, something I never did with the Mark I.

Update 2 February

Call me fickle. I went to my local camera shop, the one that has the Mark I in black. They pulled it out and handed it to me to look at, and I have to admit it was very well built and of very high physical quality. Every seam was tight, and with the barrel fully extended to 300mm there was no play in the inner barrel. I almost broke down and and purchased it right there except someone had left a scratch (a rather noticeable divot, actually) on the front element. I guess the universe really doesn't want me to own this lens.

last updated 2 feb 2013