No culture on Sky!

I've arrived at the farm I stay on near Lyme Regis, and it's mid-evening. Outside it's windy with the odd rain shower, but in my caravan it's cosy. 

I noticed that the 4G signal was good, so I tried tethering phone and laptop together with a USB cable, and it worked beautifully. So this post is coming to you from a farmer's field exposed to the wild elements. How amazing is that? 

It's only a short post this time. 

I was trying to locate BBC 4 TV at home last night, so that I could watch Professor Mary Beard present a programme about Julius Caesar. I have a satellite dish and a Sky TV box, leftovers from when Dad subscribed to an extensive package from Sky up to May 2009, before he died. Dad had had the full sports package, as he loved his golf and snooker. It had cost him over £40 a month - that would be around £60 a month in today's money. Of course I stopped this at once after I took over as executrix. Sky were sad to see me end the subscription, and hoped (in vain, as it turned out) that I'd reconsider at some future date. I could however keep the equipment: dish, box, and remote control. So I could still get all the Freeview channels - although I've found less and less reason to switch the TV on. I will do it to see something on culture and history; or the occasional special-interest programme that takes my fancy; or a film I want to see; or the odd detective drama series like Vera (for the stories) and Death in Paradise (for the characters).

Using the Sky box instead of a straightforward aerial transmission is actually a bit of a rigmarole, involving a lot of button-pressing. I have to turn the TV on, activate the Sky box, get up the Sky TV Guide, and then navigate to the channel I want. That navigation is very clunky, at least on my elderly equipment. Sometimes - with films, for example - I can get to the right channel faster if I select the 'Films' category and delve into the shorter list of channels there. With this in mind, I thought it might be quicker to locate Mary Beard's programme by selecting 'Lifestyle and Culture'. But Sky gave me only this:

That's right. No Culture on Sky TV. And this was not during the day, when non-serious, easy-to-watch programmes for obese couch potatoes predominate. This was after 9 o'clock at night, when relatively fit, alert, intelligent and educated grown-ups might wish to view more substantial fare. Not on Sky, though! Proof enough to me that Sky is incorrigibly lowbrow and populist, and not at all interested in commissioning programmes that could appeal to people who went to school. I dare say it's a rational commercial decision. Why alienate the air-headed mass audience? Let's face it, lively and fun though Mary Beard may be, the classical world of two thousand years ago is irrelevant to most people's lives, whatever its ongoing legacy. 

Disgusted, but not really surprised, I went back to the 'All Channels' menu and found BBC 4, and the programme I wanted, with not too much scrolling. I was just in time to catch the start. 

I've had a go at Sky, but have little doubt that all the other subscription TV services you can sign up to - Virgin, Amazon, BT are some that come to mind - have a no-nonsense business model that puts programming into a strait-jacket, with only output likely to be gawped at by millions of sofa-dwelling pizza-eaters being aired. Such as major football matches, programmes like (or based on) Top Gear, and the most popular sci-fi and fantasy dramas. 

Limited-interest stuff, which would of course include everything to do with culture, is not funded. It can't bring in the viewers and the vital advertising revenue. So serious stuff gets left to the BBC. Just as well the Beeb has the Licence Fee to itself.

Back in February I did a post on what I might do if the BBC moved over to a subscription model too - would I be prepared to pay for much? I worked out that I'd want to see so little that my imaginary personal subscription, based on that little, would be much less than the current Licence Fee - and the Beeb would make a thumping loss on me (and indeed, all people like me). I'm thinking they know that, and have already done their sums. It would have seemed like looking into the Abyss. The once-proud Beeb would be dumbed down to no avail. It wouldn't survive in the face of all the slicker commercial competition already fighting in the bear pit.

Many people must have blessed the TV during the lockdown. But the special circumstances gave the various programme providers an excuse to churn out mountains of uninspiring vapidity. And it continues. Well, I can't be bothered with it. 

Another milestone passed - and a gripe about popular taste

I know for a fact that most readers of my blog don't bother with my Flickr site, despite the handy links off to the right on this page. Why there isn't a shared viewership, I do not know. Perhaps there are two kinds of people - those who like to read (I almost said 'a good read', but that would be immodest) and those who like to look at pictures. And the twain do not mix. I'm one who appreciates both words and pictures, and in this blog like to combine them. 

Well, the news is that the viewings of my pictures on Flickr have just exceeded three million. Here's the proof. Click on it to enlarge.

That's three million since February 2009, I hasten to add! Even so, surely a respectable total. Especially when you consider the vast number of pictures you can see on Flickr, and the hardly less vast number of people posting pictures there. 

I see that it took seven years to garner one million Flickr viewings (in January 2016), then only two more years to increase it to two million (in January 2018), and only one year and eight months to bring the total up to three million (now). So my Flickr site is getting viewed more frequently than it used to be. That's nice, but I rarely get to know who is looking at my shots, or why. Not many people leave a comment, and requests for a licence to use a picture are infrequent. And I don't know how long the picture was studied - was it passed over in a twinkling? Or considered for a minute or more? I'm disturbed that the shots I most like - the ones I'd like to be judged by - are never among the most looked at.  

The screenprint above says I have 32,322 pictures on Flickr, so that's an average of almost 93 viewings per picture. But this is a misleading statistic. Some pictures are tremendously popular, getting looked at thousands of times, while others are almost ignored. 

Being a 'Pro' Flickr user, I get to know how many people have viewed each shot. The five most popular photos are these, all from mid-2017. This is the most popular, with 5,988 viewings:

The next most popular is this one, with 5,973 viewings:

At number three is this shot, with 4,566 viewings:

At number four is another picture of the champion subject, with 4,537 viewings:

And trailing the rest is this, with only 4,174 viewings:

I don't know about you, but I find it weird that these are my five most popular photos on Flickr! 

The one of the cat (it's Poppy, the cat of my friends Jo and Clive) is certainly cute, but not especially worthy as a photo. I wouldn't include it in a portfolio, to show what sort of excellence I can achieve with a camera. 

Even less would I think of wowing a potential big-spending client with those two shots of the bridge. They seem pretty unremarkable to me. Yes, it was an historic bridge, spanning the river Coquet in Northumberland, taking the B6345 from Felton on the north bank to twin village West Thirston on the south bank. But I really can't see why these two shots have bagged the number one and number three spots - unless perhaps there is some local connection that makes people search for pictures of this bridge, and mine are the only shots they can find. Who knows. 

The 'foody' pictures - the oranges and the steak meal - are nice, but again, what's so special about them? (Incidentally, only these two pictures are in my personal 'best shot' collection - not Poppy the cat, nor the bridge) 

I'm glad that some of my pictures command attention, and lots of viewings. But I wish the shots that I'm really proud of got the top five positions, rather than the ones that actually did. 

It all proves something, of course. It proves that 'safe' and unchallenging pictures are the most popular of all. Which suggests that anything truly creative speaks only to a small minority, and can never attract much interest. Which, if I had the soul of a true artist, would be rather discouraging. 

Never mind. On with the next batch of shots, and a new goal of four million viewings!

Heavy metal

One aspect of any new camera that will be important is: how heavy is it? 

I don't want anything that I can't carry around comfortably all day, day after day. Remember, I always carry a bag containing my phone, and other things a woman needs, whether or not I take a camera along too. So I want to keep my total burden as light as possible. Nor do I want a big heavy camera pulling my clothing around in unflattering ways.  

My little Leica D-Lux 4 weighs half a pound, and I hardly notice that. I have a small bag for it, with a cross-body strap. Much of the time it's out of that bag, and in my hand. I often wander around with it like that, my fingers curled around its handgrip, all ready to switch it on and shoot.  

The larger Leica Q2 that I've been considering weighs one and a half pounds - three times what the little Leica does. Would that be a major problem for me? 

To refresh my memory of what carrying a larger camera might be like, I fetched my film-era Olympus OM-1N down from the attic, and assessed it for bulk and heaviness. I hadn't used it since going digital in 2000. It was a relic from a different era, but it still looked good, still looked the business. It was an excellent SLR in its day. 

I paired it most often with a fast 50mm f/1.4 lens. I acquired it second-hand, and used it for years with no problems whatever - certainly no electronic problems, as this was a mechanical camera - but I didn't tote it around all the time. It was the smallest and lightest SLR around when originally launched back in 1973, but it was still a little too large and ponderous to carry all day long. All-metal, you see. As with any SLR, you got it out for a particular occasion, with particular shots in mind, then you put it away. It spent a lot of time in the boot of the car, ready for action if needed, but not casually carried around on the bare off-chance of a shot. 

Fast-forward to 2020. I slung the strap of the OM-1N over my shoulder and considered how it felt now. 

Gosh, I must have got flimsier over the years! It really felt quite heavy. I wouldn't want to hump this and my usual bag around all day. No wonder I had mostly purchased smaller, lighter cameras when I went digital. Polycarbonate and aluminium were so much easier on the delicate Melford anatomy. 

What did this tell me about the Q2's weight? The Olympus was only a quarter of a pound heavier than the Leica Q2. This meant that I'd certainly feel the Q2's weight. I'd feel it all the time.  

Would the Q2 seem hefty enough to inhibit my taking it with me, every time I went out? 

Perhaps it would be rendered ethereal and featherweight by that red Leica dot, and the mystical incantations of its Niebelung makers as they cast their spells at the Wetzlar laboratory/factory/sorcerers' cave. Perhaps I could take heart in the fact that the legendary Teutonic Heroes of old used to wield giant swords that must have weighed a ton. And although they were mostly men with rippling muscles, there were slender maidens in there too - and horse-riding female Valkyries - all using big magical swords with strange names. Heavy swords made of steel. Maybe they knew a special wrist technique.  

Some hope then that the Q2's weight would seem similarly negligible. 

And indeed, I hadn't noticed the Q2's weight much when handling it at Park Cameras a week ago. But I had been in an excited state. Might it be different, if the Q2 became my constant companion? Would its weight come to niggle me? And then irritate me?

So now there was another question mark to chasten any enthusiasm for the Q2. Not only was it super-expensive, and appeared to produce JPEGs that lacked vibrancy; it might prove too heavy for comfort. 

Oh dear.

The sensible side of me has won - for now

No posts for ten days - and yet not on holiday? What have I been doing instead?

Well, all the routine household stuff has got done. My garden, front and rear, looks very presentable. Inside my home all is clean and tidy. At this very moment the only thing left to do today is to take my statin tablet with my late-afternoon mug of tea. I'm on top of things. I've even done my packing list for the upcoming caravan holiday in the West Country. 

Nor have I neglected my social life. Something else has consumed my time and attention. The Leica Q2 camera. 

No, I haven't bought one - but I very nearly did. I had to ponder the pros and cons for at least a week before finally concluding that for now I would be making a silly mistake to commit funds to its purchase. 

I did something very similar before, in 2008, when I bought a top-flight full-frame Nikon D700 camera, plus an extraordinary Nikon zoom lens to go with it, plus other Nikon accessories and a very nice backpack-style camera bag. At the time, and for a while afterwards, it seemed such a good idea. At last: a photographic kit to be proud of, that would take my photography to new places. But a colossal amount spent! And in less than a year I'd fallen out of love with my still-new equipment. Why? It was just too heavy and bulky. The weight was beginning to hurt my back. The bulk made me leave it at home on too many social occasions. I hankered after a smaller and lighter camera that I could carry at all times. That's why I bought my Leica D-Lux 4 camera in 2009. So handy was the little Leica, and so good its pictures, that it eclipsed the technically superior Nikon, and I hardly used the Nikon and its lenses again. I kept my Nikon kit 'for best', but in truth it was redundant, and I didn't mourn our parting when I sold it all in 2011. The only thing that survived of that adventure was the excellent Nikon software, which came free with the D700. I still use it today. 

That episode taught me a valuable lesson about throwing away thousands of pounds on a camera.  

You'd think that I would be incapable of repeating the same mistake. But no: when I began to focus on the Leica Q2 recently, I ignored the flashing red lights in my head. 

I'm sure I don't have a 'split personality' but it seems I have a sensible side and a daft side. The sensible side is normally in charge. But occasionally the daft side takes over for a while. I am glad to report that my sensible side is once more in the ascendant. But it was touch and go. I was so taken with the Leica Q2. There were days recently when I was on the verge of taking that easy drive over to Park Cameras in Burgess Hill, and buying the thing. Even now, I'm wistful. 

My intense interest in this admittedly most desirable camera must have begun two weeks ago. Then I made a bad error. I dropped into Park Cameras to take a close look at the Q2. Oh, they took me seriously. They unlocked the Leica display. I held it in my hands. I carefully assessed its weight (at least twice as heavy as the D-Lux 4, but less than half what the D700 had been: so perhaps no problem). I looked through the electronic viewfinder with my glasses kept on (a revelation: what a nice view, and despite the glasses I could see it all. I marvelled at the 'best focus' highlighting when in manual-focus mode). I had one or two technical questions to ask, and these were answered. It was all very satisfactory. The thing looked gorgeous, and felt gorgeous in my hands. But this was just a quick try-out, testing the water so to speak, to see whether we might get on. I wasn't going to buy on that occasion. I'd need to save up for it.

But I was hooked. I'd already read the obvious online reviews, which was why I already knew a lot about its technical capabilities and how the controls worked. Once home, I spent hours seeking out more. And in the days that followed, until yesterday, I read and re-read these online articles, watched videos on YouTube, and studied the all the sample photos taken with this camera, in order to decide whether this was my ideal next camera. 

Here's a list (with links) of the online articles I found especially worth reading. Taken together, they really gave a good idea what to expect:

https://www.overgaard.dk/Leica-Q2-digital-rangefinder-Page-2.html

https://www.slack.co.uk/leica-q2.html

https://www.kenrockwell.com/leica/q2.htm

https://casualphotophile.com/2019/07/19/leica-q2-camera-review/

https://www.ephotozine.com/article/leica-q2-full-review-33343

https://www.dpreview.com/reviews/leica-q2-review

https://www.stevehuffphoto.com/2019/03/27/the-leica-q2-real-world-review-and-experience-worth-the-5k/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71IigfMcTx0 (Ken Rockwell unpacking a brand new Q2)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLN8HM45kAY (Ken Rockwell's actual Q2 review)

I remained smitten. But my sensible side was getting its grip back. I had to admit there were - from my personal point of view - two reasons not to buy the Q2. 

One reason was the staggering price. OK, one was buying supreme quality optics and a sensational build. And that famous red Leica dot on the front. But even so...£4,500 for just the camera? More like £5,000, after adding a spare battery, a suitable leather case, two high-capacity, high-speed SD cards, and new software for the laptop. Taking inflation into account, I'd be committing about the same amount of money that I ploughed into the Nikon D700 kit in 2008. 

Gosh, what a big hole in my savings a £5,000 spend would make! Surely it was unaffordable?

But I worked out that I could finance the purchase more sensibly by raiding my savings for only £2,500, and taking out a bank loan for the remainder, repayable over 18 months at £150 per month. Which meant no extra actual expense, just lower monthly savings for a year and a half. After that, my monthly savings would rise again to their previous level. 

I'd still be spending £5,000 plus some loan interest. That was money that wouldn't get saved, and its loss would probably rule out buying that all-electric car in 2025. I'd have to put the car purchase back by a year. But then perhaps the worldwide coronavirus pandemic had delayed Volvo's research and development? In which case, the car I wanted wouldn't be available in 2025 and I would, anyway, need to wait to 2026. 

So nothing lost - except, forever, £5,000.

The daft side of me was however still willing to purchase the Q2. But when I looked into the other reason for not buying, my sensible side reasserted itself. 

Cameras can certainly be 'objects of desire', and nothing makes one drool more than a German-made Leica, put together in Leica's mountain fastness by master-craftsmen Niebelungs insanely dedicated to their task. But the photographs are what really matter. I shoot JPEGs. That's because I take an awful lot of photographs. My JPEG workflow with the little D-Lux 4 is easily manageable. That's because JPEG file sizes are small, and they are quick to transfer to my laptop for processing, and quick to tweak to my liking. Nor do they take up an unreasonable amount of storage space.

So I would want to use JPEGs on the Q2. The JPEG file sizes would be larger - say 20MB instead of 4MB - so transferring them from camera to laptop would take four or five times what it does now: a minute, maybe two minutes, rather than seconds. The processing might be just as swift, however. Meaning correction of tilt, cropping, and small tweaks to shadow detail, highlights and sharpness. Yes, the end result would need extra storage space, but that wouldn't be a problem for a while at least.  

Would I use JPEGs on the Q2? No. Leica's in-camera JPEG processing is poor. The JPEGs all look too pale and too yellow. I think what is wrong with them could be fixed with a firmware update, but it hasn't happened yet, and Leica seem to want Q2 users to shoot RAW instead, using DNG files. But that means huge file sizes - 87MB per picture, which in turn means waiting forever for a batch of shots to come off the camera, and obliging me to invest in special RAW conversion and editing software. 

Extra expense! And extra time spent dealing with the workload! Unless, of course, I shot fewer pictures. But I don't want that - half the fun when shooting in a great location is blasting away to my heart's content.

It's this JPEG problem that has stopped me in my tracks. More so than the money. It's the chief reason why I won't be buying the Q2, nor any camera like it.

And do you know, I'm glad. The faithful D-Lux 4 deserves my ongoing commitment. It's delivering some cracking shots just now. I am so looking forward to unleashing it on the West Country for four weeks. Yes, it will do me proud. I have in fact just bought two new 8GB SDHC cards for it, and may treat it to a posh hand-stitched black leather case if I can find one online (no doubt Etsy will provide). 

I don't know how long the little Leica will last. Maybe for years yet. So be it. The sensible side of me knows a good thing when it sees it.  

But what a problem I might have if Leica issue another firmware update on the Q2, and the JPEG problem is fixed! I almost hope they don't.

Lucy's list of Favourite Music

I have about 1,800 mp3 tracks in my personal collection, all carefully selected, all significant to me in one way or another. Which ones are on my Favourites playlist? Shall I reveal?

Why not? These are the tracks that I would mention, if discussing my approach to life on some programme. There are only seventeen of them. Some appeal to the emotions. Others are calming. Here they are, in playing order: 

Edge of Night, otherwise known as Pippin's Song, from The Lord of the Rings film The Return of the King. I have two versions, one with the background sounds of battle, one without them.

Farewell, by Apocalyptica. 

The Watch Chimes, otherwise known as Carillon's Theme, from Ennio Morricone's score for the film For A Few Dollars More.

The Glasgow Love Theme, from the film Love Actually. I have two versions, by Craig Armstrong and Jacques Legrand.

La Route Est Dure, sung by Georgia Brown. This was the theme song for the 1970 BBC2 TV drama The Roads To Freedom, based on the works of Jean-Paul Sartre. 

Lady D'Arbanville, sung by Cat Stevens.

Like An Angel Passing Through My Room, by ABBA. 

The Love Theme by Vangelis, from the film Blade Runner.

Miserere by Allegri, sung by the Choir of Clare College, Cambridge. 

The hymn O Holy Night, sung by Aled Jones.

Parce Mihi Domine, sung by The Hilliard Ensemble with saxophone by Jan Garbarek.

Rejoice in the Sun, sung by Joan Baez, from the film Silent Running.

Soldier Blue, sung by Buffy Sainte-Marie, from the film of the same name.

Sparrow, sung by Mary Hopkin.

The main title theme to the film Where Eagles Dare.

It would be nice to provide links to this music, but Blogger won't let me. However, I dare say that many readers will if curious simply turn to the speaker in their room and say 'Alexa! (or Google!) Play me Sparrow by Mary Hopkin', or whichever of my favourites catches their eye. 

Although these are my favourite tracks, I wouldn't say they are typical of the others in my collection, which on the whole are much likelier to get your feet moving, or your hands reaching for that air guitar! It's a very eclectic collection. Half of it can arguably be dismissed as Top of the Pops fodder. The other half not so easily, I think.  

Amazon, I apologise

Ah. I now see what Amazon have done. They've rearranged and redesigned their music offerings, and in the process the place where you can peruse old music, listen to 30 seconds of any mp3 track, and then purchase it, has been buried inside their Amazon Music app. 

I have to say, it took some finding. But it is there. And because I have found this out and can buy old tracks just as I used to, I feel I must apologise to Amazon for giving them a lot of stick. I'm not going to grovel, because the facility I wanted is not flagged up in any way, and isn't in their regular Amazon shopping app as it used to be. It's almost as if Amazon didn't want me to find it. But I can undeniably listen before I buy, which is what I thought they had stopped me doing. 

Here are the stages you have to go through.

First, you need to have installed the Amazon Music app on your phone. Here it is on the 'Music app' screen of my phone.

You fire it up, and tap on the three vertical dots (top right), choosing 'Store' from the drop-down menu, then 'Store Home' after that:

This brings you to the Home screen of the Music Store. Tapping on the magnifying-glass icon (top right) lets you type in what you're looking for. 

Here we are at the album in the previous post. Just a bit different from the other approach. Amazon give me a 'Go Unlimited ' option, which means a £9.99 monthly subscription, but nothing else to pay no matter how much music I listen to on this app. Or I can buy the entire album in mp3 form for £6.49. Or else scroll down to chose a particular track, or tracks, at 99p a pop. So I scroll down to Elenore. 

The grey circles around the track numbers (left edge) indicate pre-purchase listening time, so I tap against Elenore and listen to the music. Just as I used to do. Yep. It's the track I want.

If I now tap the box with '£0.99' on it, the 'BUY SONG' option now comes up. 

Tapping on that completes the purchase. Just as before. And, just as before, I can go to another part of the Amazon Music app and view (and play) what I've bought, which is now up in the Amazon cloud and will remain there for eons to come, till all mountains have washed into the sea, and Amazon is no more. But at any time I can download the track as a proper mp3 music file and install it on my phone - which I do at once - and it will get backed up to an external hard drive when I next do a regular Music Backup. In that way, I can play it offline whenever the fit takes me. Or copy it to another device. 

This new arrangement is actually better than the old, because it's all done from the Amazon Music app, and not kicked off on the ordinary Amazon shopping app first. Though maybe this was always possible, and I just never knew before. 

So there you are. I was wrong to castigate Amazon so much. Although I still don't trust them.