The process of choosing a camera...
Picking a digital camera can be a daunting experience, particularly if it's
your first excursion into the world of digital imaging. We've tried to assemble
a complete set of tools here to help you make your decision, but realize that
we often may overlook key issues, or gloss over things we take for granted that
the neophyte may not.
One of our (remarkable) Imaging Resource readers and "friends of the family,"
Barbara Coultry, took the time to jot down her experiences on the journey to
the camera that was just right. We share with you here her thoughts on
the process, a distinctly different "take" on things than the dusty,
dry technical gabble we tend to produce on our own. Along the way, you'll find
some key information on how to set up AOL to display the sample images
properly, how to print them out to see apples-to-apples comparisions, and much
more.
This is such a great thing, and so much what we hoped would eventually happen
with The Imaging Resource: Readers helping each other along the road, sharing
from their own experience. Our most heartfelt thanks to Barbara for taking the
time to contribute to the community that is The Imaging Resource!
Choosing a Camera: Training the Inner Child
By Barbara Coultry
When we were kids, we often ignored our toys in favor of pretty
stones, discarded lumber, bent spoons, garden dirt, and the occasional
snake. Imagination easily left our toys in the dust. Now and
then, however, a commercial gizmo would grab hold of us, refusing
to let go, and we'd wax eloquent on the glorious benefits of
this not-to-be-believed toy. Mostly, we'd harass our parents.
I still remember the day I first saw that shiny blue bicycle
at a downtown store. I patiently explained to my parents how
they'd no longer have to drive me places and how much exercise
and fresh air I'd get and how I could do science projects on
the (safe-to-ride) back roads where there were birds to watch
and plants to study. They knew better, but they bought the bike
anyway because I was the last of the children on the block to
have my own two-wheeler.
That child came with me when I grew up, but she'd been quiet
for a long time. I had taxes to deal with, meals to prepare,
a child of my own to raise. Then I saw a digital camera. Deep
within began a whiny monologue about all the important, creative
things I could do if I just had this camera. I mean, when was
the last time I'd asked for anything big? Years ago, right? I
nagged, I begged. My eloquence was truly heartbreaking. Finally,
from sheer desperation, I gave in just to shut myself up. With
a sigh of relief, my adult self regained control.
Harrumphing at the wheedling voice (I want it, I want it, I want
it now), I buried myself in printouts of manufacturers' specs.
I planned on spoiling my "kid," but I was going to
do it intelligently. I'd buy the biggest-bestest camera I could
afford. It would have enough pixels to wrap around the world
twice, its bells would ding-dong Beethoven's Ninth, and it would
whistle both Dixie and My Country 'Tis of Thee-at the same time.
One fine day while playing hopscotch across internet links, I
tumbled into Imaging Resource. In spite of my inner child immediately
bursting forth, in spite of initially doing everything backwards
and upside-down, my journey here gave me the confidence to choose
a camera appropriate to my needs.
What follows is everything I did, not the first time around,
but the second time when I calmed down enough to do it all in
the proper order.
Learning to Read
I read every article on this web site, starting with Finding
the Right Digital Camera, going on to More Than You Ever Wanted
to Know About Camera Testing, then Introduction to the Digital
Darkroom, and ending up with Batteries for Digital Cameras. I
was no genius when I'd finished reading the last word, but I
knew a whole lot more about what I was supposed to be looking
for in a camera, and it wasn't all pixels decorated with whistles
and bells.
After the articles, I dallied in the in the News, then Hints,
Tips, & FAQs and, lastly, in the Q & A Forum. The Forum
is an excellent source for miscellaneous information that doesn't
necessarily fit anywhere else. It's also where you can post questions
you haven't yet found the answers to.
Then I stopped. I wanted all this information to age, to develop
into sufficient knowledge for deciding which camera I actually
needed (and wanted) and what sort of features would satisfy (and
thrill) me.
Multiple-Choice Quiz
Pretending I'd made no previous decision to buy the biggest-bestest,
I started thinking of all the things one could do with a digital
camera and what features would be necessary to do these things.
Here is the boiled-down list:
1.Attach photos to brief e-mails instead of writing real letters
2.Create a web site for selling polka-dot teakettles
3.Produce snapshot photo albums to show guests who won't leave
4.Enhance a newsletter dedicated to tic-tac-toe enthusiasts
5.Transfer baby's picture onto Aunt Edith's t-shirt
6.Enlarge photos for covering stains on the wall
For the first two, I wouldn't need a megapixel camera. For
3 through 5, I'd do better with something more than 640 x 480
pixels. For number 6, I'd definitely need megapixels.
The list helped me chose a resolution that was right for me.
It all came down to whether I wanted to take a snapshot of Grandpa
in the teahouse doorway or I wanted to blow up the whole danged
outhouse.
Then I made a second list of features and options including things
like metering, lens, zoom, storage, method of downloading, white
balance, red-eye reduction, speed, etc. Again, I checked off
the must-haves. After reading everything on this site, you should
be able to compile your own such list.
Reviewing for Finals
Rather like pressing my nose against a toy store window, I began
reading Imaging Resource's reviews. Before I go on, a comment
on these reviews is in order. Unlike many others, these reviews
have little subjectivity in them. Each camera has its good and
bad points, and each camera is perfect for a certain group of
people. The reviews won't tell you which camera to buy; instead,
they'll help you come to your own decision.
I read the reviews only for those cameras matching my personal
specifications, and I did so offline, finding it easier on my
eyes to print them out. Also, I could scribble notes across the
pages while eating a bagel and sipping coffee. (You can't make
important decisions without sustenance.)
All this reading and reviewing revealed an important fact: These
cameras usually come a la carte. Want a case? That's extra. Want
batteries and a charger? Add it to the price. How about a second
memory card? You guessed it-it's extra. Suddenly, I had to recalculate
what it was going to cost me.
Looking Forward to Saturday at the Toy Store
Kids do it a lot. They head for the toy aisles, then touch, lift,
poke, and if they can get away with it, actually play with some
of the toys. This was where I was going, only here it's called
the Comparometer. I was about to play around with pictures taken
by very real digital cameras.
Then I remembered a note about AOL sitting on the bottom of the
home page. Hmm... My internet provider was AOL, and the note
had something to do with how AOL compresses graphics, thus affecting
the quality of photos on the screen. I went back to re-read the
note, then promptly followed the directions. Just in case you're
also an AOLer, here's what you should do:
There's an icon at the top of your screen called "My AOL."
See it? Click on it, then on "Preferences" in the drop-down
menu. You'll be presented with a window that looks like this:
Click on the fourth icon from the left in the top row that says "WWW" (for World Wide Web) and, when presented with the next screen, click on the tab that says "Web Graphics."
Click the checkmark in the little white box to turn off the
compression feature, then click "OK." That's all there
is to it. Turning off this feature may slow down the loading
of graphics, but be patient-you need as clear a picture as possible.
When you're all done with the comparisons, you can easily reverse
things by rechoosing compressed graphics.
Near the Toy Store (Somebody, Please Get Rid of This Adult!)
I took one look at the photo choices to use for comparisons on
the Comparometer and went right back to More Than You Ever Wanted
to Know About Camera Testing. Why? Because I'd forgotten the
reasons for choosing one photo over another. I would rather have
played with the toys, but I obediently went back to refresh my
memory. My ability to endure delayed gratification was sorely
tested, but it survived this additional side trip. Besides, I
might have chosen just one or two photos based on how much I
liked them rather than basing my choices on what would best reveal
those qualities I wanted in a camera. (You can easily reach this
article from the left-hand frame of the Comparometer at the bottom
where there's a choice entitled Test Descriptions.) For instance,
I knew I'd be taking many pictures of people. Therefore, I needed
the photos of a live model.
Finally-Saturday at the Toy Store
Because of its wide range of color and because it had representatives
of three different races (and just because I felt like it), I
chose the "Musicians" picture for my initial comparison.
I clicked on it, then scrolled through the choices above the
left window until I came to the first camera I was considering.
I clicked on it, then waited forever for the photo taken with
that camera to load. (Remember: I use AOL and had to turn off
compression). When it was finally loaded, I went to the camera
choices above the right window, scrolled down until I found the
second camera of my dreams, clicked on it, then waited some more.
Next, I adjusted the screens until they both showed the same woman. Now I could
judge which camera's version looked better on my monitor. After choosing, I
downloaded both images onto disk. (An aside: I can be truly dense at times.
It took me a while to realize that all I had to do to download was to right
click on the image, then choose "Save as" from the resulting menu.
Anyway, that's how it's done on a PC.) (Ed. note: On a Mac (at least in
Netscape), you just click and hold down on the image - you'll get a popup menu
asking what you want to do with it. Select "Save this image as...")
Keeping the image on screen that I liked better, I replaced the
other one with the third camera choice. Again, I went through
the comparison and download process, first noting which camera
I thought did a better job.
Before arriving at the Comparometer, I'd whittled my choices
down to three cameras. You may have more or less, but whatever
the case, don't abbreviate the time spent here. Some of the cameras
aren't overly expensive, but others can end up costing well over
a thousand dollars. This is not the same as squeezing melons
in the produce aisle.
I finally had all the test photos neatly tucked away on disk.
I rubbed my hands together and whispered, "Oh boy!"
Not long after, it changed to "Uh-oh." Why? Because
I needed to resize the pictures so I could print them on 8 x
11 paper, and they all needed to be similar enough in size so
the comparisons could be objective. After much mucking about,
I learned that care must be taken when resizing a photo or else
the program ends up "resampling" the image. To explain
this arcane process to myself, I decided to think of resampling
as the act of adding pixels where there aren't any or of taking
pixels away from where they used to be. Since I wanted to see
exactly what each of these cameras was doing rather than what
my photo program was doing, I needed to prevent the loss or gain
of pixels.
For example, I had three versions of the "DaveBox"
done with three different cameras. Each photo came down the 'net
pike onto my disk sporting 72 ppi (pixels per inch). Though I
don't remember their precise measurement in inches, I do remember
that I needed to cut their size by half if I was going to print
them on 8 x 11 paper. After much back-and-forthing plus help
from Dave (head honcho here), I understood that, if I halved
the dimensions, I needed to double the ppi. In Adobe PhotoDeluxe
(to be replaced by Adobe Photoshop whenever the adult in me relents)
I clicked on "Size" and was presented with a screen
where I could alter width, height, and resolution.
I checked the box for retaining proportions so that, if I
halved the width, the height would be halved automatically. I
also checked the "constrain file size" box, which alters
the resolution for you. Without this option, I could have manually
doubled the 72 ppi, ending up with the desired 144 ppi. Dave
said (we should build a statue in honor of Dave) that if the
size of the file is the same before and after altering it, then
resampling hasn't occurred. Though everything seemed to work
just fine, I saved each of the resized images to a new name so
I'd still have the originals to fall back on in case of disaster
(or in case I had this uncontrollable urge to change the photo
into a mezzotint).
Next, I zoomed in on a specific target in each of the three photos.
Choosing the human eye, I compared the same eye in each of the
images, looking for places where pixels were missing or colored
oddly. I took note of which camera seemed to have the least of
this. I also compared color, both for realism and saturation.
Perhaps you're not as easily deceived as I am, but in my case,
it was imperative that I include the "DaveBox" and
the "resolution target" in my comparisons. Neither
of these was likely to distract me with its pretty face or lovely
foliage and I could, therefore, concentrate on color, cleanness
of line, resolution, and high/low lights. I also changed the
resolution chart to grayscale to eliminate the oddball bits of
color.
Somebody Broke All My Crayons
Oh, goody, it was time to print. This was, of course, when Murphy's
Law kicked in. My color cartridge was nearly out of ink, and
its best efforts looked like they'd gone through the wash 2000
times. I had to drive way across town to buy a new one. I could
have gone to the nearby Wal-Mart, but I knew an even cheaper
place. Nevermind that I spent the difference in gas getting there.
Regardless, don't even think of leaving near-death cartridges
in your printer.
One thing I knew from fiddling about in a darkroom is that the
color of the paper affects the brightness of the photo. If the
paper is cream-colored, then so are the photographic highlights.
I didn't want soft and atmospheric; I wanted absolute clarity.
Because inkjet pigments aren't opaque, a bright white background
will reflect more light back up through the ink. I took the cheap
copy paper out of my printer and replaced it with 37-pound coated
paper specially made for inkjets. It had a brightness rating
of 92, which was pretty darned white. The heavier weight helped
keep the ink from bleeding through, and the coating prevented
the ink from seeping into the fibers and spreading out, thus
blurring the image.
I clicked on the print button and sat waiting for what felt like
an ungodly length of time, but I finally had something I could
actually touch. I oohed and ahhed and then got out my magnifying
lens to really study the pictures. I inspected skin tones, highlights,
shadows, color saturation. I picked and poked at resolution (using
the resolution target photo). I looked for things I didn't even
have names for. I figured this was my best chance to make the
right decision. Once I'd bought a camera, it would be too late.
I wasn't going to play the shoulda-woulda game with money I'd
taken some pains to save up.
Growing Up and Entering the Real World
Though I thought I'd never get there, I was now ready to buy
my camera.
Deciding which camera had been fun; comparing vendors and prices
was not. Have you ever noticed there's no logic to street prices?
A camera with a thousand-dollar suggested retail price can be
gotten for $750, $850, or $932.27. I traveled the internet for
hours, found a vendor with a good price, then discovered I could
get the camera, but several of the accessories I wanted would
have to be back-ordered. Phooey. So I squinted at the back sections
of several photography magazines and ended up ordering my camera
the old-fashioned way via an 800-number. It was kind of nice.
I talked to a real person who told me all about his daughter,
his two grandchildren, and how he'd be getting off work at two
and going to see them.
And They Lived Happily Ever
I have my camera now and I love it. It does everything I want
it to. Its idiosyncrasies are no surprise because, after reading
its review, I expected them. (Figuring out the software, on the
other hand, was a trip through purgatory.) I know that next week,
next month, or next year they'll come out with a new must-have
camera toy, but if I'd waited for that one, then I wouldn't have
had all the fun I'm going to have with this one. Besides, in
the computer world, nothing remains static; there will always
be something newer and better.
One more thing: I've discovered that Imaging Resource mutates.
There's a new review or a question answered on the forum or perhaps
a new link to another informative site. I expect to return periodically
just to see what's happening.
And now, hugging my toy possessively, I'm going home to play.