With a big camera, you miss a lot of pictures you might have gotten with a little camera. But the ones you get, you really mean them.

If they’re sitting still, we use a wired one; if they’re moving around, we stick a wireless on em. We like people, and in the course of making films about them, we have arrived at the conclusion that often they say things we would like to know about. So it’s a natural:Mic ‘em.

Sennheiser makes a pretty industry standard line of wireless transmitter/receivers designed for just this kind of application–the Evolution G2 line. You get a pair for about $500, depending on the extra doo-dads in the box, and it’s probably the most reliable and versatile setup you can get for less than twice that amount.

The mic the Sennheiser kits come with is kind of so-so, but we have a pair of pretty decent (~$200 each) wired lavaliers from Audio Technica. I think they’re called AT899. I haven’t used a ton of different mics–and people who do can get pretty tweaky about them–but these are reckoned to sound pretty good, especially considering the price point.

So we wanted to be able to use the AT lav mic on the Sennheiser transmitters. Only trouble is, the connectors are different. Fortunately a little cottage industry exists just for solving this kind of problem.

And the web has made this a ton more practical to make use of. Some scouring netted me the respective wiring diagrams and connector specificatinos of the devices I wanted to mate, and a list of likely custom cablers. I sent emails out to several, and ended up getting two adapter cables made that would allow us to use our good lavs on our wireless kit when we need to.

Nifty.

Now we’d really like to figure out how to use these thing better. Up till now, we have generally figured that we don’t mind too much if viewers can see that there’s a microphone. Apart from being the easiest way to mount with the best chance of getting decent sound, a visible mic also lends a kind of we’re-not-trying-to-fool-anyone transparency to a documentary.

But, truth be told, we’re both kind of sick of looking at the things in our shots. And maybe the ‘transparency’ thing is just a cover for being too lazy to figure out how to use the gear right. In addition to being ugly, visible mics do lead to some unnecessary conversations, especially with kids. Distractions that burn time, and good light, and tape, and spontenaity.

So we’re hoping to find a lav guru who can help us figure out a good bag of tricks for mounting mics quickly, discreetly, quietly, and keep them quiet from clothes and jewelry rustling and stuff. Lots of things that can make noise on a mic.

We’ve hidden mics a few times, with uneven success. Clearly it’s something that’s doable, as just about everyone you see on TV has one on. If you happen to know any hints, or have any great resources on this, please let us know.

The first time we went to Pragya’s with Nutan to introduce ourselves and to tell them about our project, Pragya pointed to a cozy little bed with carefully placed stuffed animals on top of it and told me, “This is our bed.” 

The three of them, mom, Pragya and her eight year old little sister, Praynena, all sleep together. I remember how I used to LOVE sleeping with my mom when my dad was traveling. It was the B-E-S-T Best–as good as Saturday cartoons–if not better. I felt so bonded with my mom when curling up with her in bed. I have heard this same sentiment from other pre-teen girls I have taught throughout the years. I have a theory that it might be a ’universal’.

So, leaving Pragya’s after that first visit, I knew that to get to their story, a sleepover was in order.

The problem with this was, Scott does not fit in that house. He doesn’t fit size wise–the house is tiny and our lens wide–and he is a man. The three of them clearly adore him, but you cannot deny, he is a different gender and therefore brings a different vibe to the house. I was the only one going to this slumber party, meaning I became instant First Shooter for Pragya’s story.

A little personal Nonfiction Media history here. Scott is the Big Picture guy. He is good at the visuals–really good. He is also the tech guy. He knows our equipment backwards and forwards. I want to know our cameras, gadgets, knobs, cords and cables this well because I love people and their stories, and I want to tell them up right. However–I know this sounds lame and girly (and I am actually cringing myself at this…truth(?)–I am inherently not that interested in our equipment.  

There. I said it.

I so hope I am not compared to the President of Harvard regarding his infamous comment about women and science–I know there are women who can drop major science on video/camera equipment. (We have been emailing some of them regulary for advice.)  I just happen not to be one of them.

I haven’t even read Scott’s recent (epic) techie blog entry.  I am logistics and editing gal. I know what needs to happen next in our schedule, remember that we have to eat at some point, and I can Final Cut Pro a kick-ass story.  It is a pretty even split, work-wise.

Practically, it has worked well for our business. This does not mean, however, that this divide does not cause tension. I feel that my job is less glamorous. Also, Just because I am not interested in the gear, doesn’t mean I don’t want to be good at using it.

It is complicated, see, I want to be visual/camera/tech gal too. However, the responsibility of this freaks me out as much as I want to do it. But…the more I don’t do it, the more I don’t get better and more confident at it. Scott wants to be a better editor as well. But this is easier to remedy. I get sore editing wrists. He takes over at the editing bay. If I happen not to like something he does, I change it so I like it.

There is a bit more pressure with collecting footage: When you forget to turn on the XLR mic… you don’t get the sound. I happen to know that it really sucks when this happens. So, I WANT the video camera. I DON’T WANT the video camera. I WANT THE CAMERA. It scares me.

So, anyway, the sleepover at Pragya’s…

I knew I had to do it. Even if this meant that the footage gathering was ALL on me. In fact, I didn’t even much think about it. I practiced setting up beforehand and worked up notes with Scott about things not to forget, and really I wasn’t too nervous.

I would love to report that all went amazingly and that I got Born Into Brothels meets Iraq in Fragments footage. I didn’t.

I spent the night lying in bed listening to pack of dogs barking in the distance… slapping bugs and ticking off the things I had missed getting into my camera.

• Pragya’s little sister, Praynena, asking Pragya how to spell “Barbie”.
• The electricity coming back on after hours of darkness and Praynena jumping up and saying in English, “The lights are on. It’s my birthday.”
• Praynena tiredly and sweetly asking her mom if there is a cure for blindness.
• Mom turning off the T.V. after a long day. (I was readjusting the tripod to make it even–AGGHH!)
• Had the camera rolling the second they were stirring to wake up, but it was 5 am and there was NO LIGHT, (not even on ‘high gain’ which I was taught only to turn on if you find Osama Bin Laden in his cave.)

 However, this is what I got:

• Pragya helping her sister getting out of her uniform and into her play clothes after school in pretty bedroom light.
• Pragya being quiet, sitting in the kitchen, recovering froma long day at school.
• Mom and daughter talking about their day (don’t know what they are saying yet. Sending the tape home with the transcriber today and I betcha it is sweet.)
• The lights going out and mom picking through rice by electric lantern.
• Family of women slowly waking up. (Again, can’t wait to know what they are saying as they rub the sleep out of their eyes.)
• Little Sister watching big sister as she does 5:30am karate in a class of mostly boys bathed in morning, mosquito filled light.
• It is hard to watch  my own footage. For me, it is full of “should haves”.
• As a filmmaker it was a roller coaster. As just a regular person spending the night at some really nice peoples’ house, it was a total fulfilling blast.

I loved being with the girls. They are both REALLY funny…goofy. I love that.

I loved eating Dal Bhaat (traditional Nepali food-rice, curry, lentils and a fried egg). It was so good. They were so excited that I liked chiles. I poured them on. Manita, Pragya’s mom, had made them into this yummy chutney. SO GOOD!

I loved hanging out with Manita. She reminds me of my sister-in-law, Denise. Super strong, determined, feminine, a  hardcore self-made woman. We couldn’t really speak to each other much, but it was one of those deals where it didn’t really matter. We just smiled a lot and knew. 

The next morning, Manita and I ended up walking about 3 miles together in the muggiest, sweatiest of heat because there was a transportation strike.

We walked 30 minutes out from her house (I supposed to be filming her getting on a tuk tuk to work) to the big road only to find it full of bicycles and people walking. I had three heavy bags with me. I got sun burnt and rashed, but eventually found a bus in the next town over.

Later, Manita called Nutan to be sure I had made it home.

The sleepover? It was good in a lot of ways. Really good.

You might even see some of what I got in the film we’re making.

CANON XH-A1 video camera: It’s been around for a while, and compared to digital still cameras, camcorders (especially at the ‘prosumer’ level, typically have a much longer product lifespan.

That combined with the fact that (again, unlike the stills cameras) it’s got a fixed lens, means I don’t feel inclined to get wrapped up in angst about whether I shouldn’t be thinking of replacing it, or trying a different lens, or in some way hot-rodding it.

When we bought the XH-A1, it was with the understanding that HDV is an interim solution, and that mechanized tape based capture is going away soon. Not soon enough, in my opinion–the delicate mechanisms and requirement for real-time downloading, and the lack of viable options for external decks are all strikes against videotape.

That said, it’s amazing how easily we’re spoiled–just comparing the relative ease of use (in the field, and then again in post-production) of digital video as compared to film?

I mean, Holy Crap! How did those people do it? Every so often I take a moment to gaze at the sky in utter awe at the miracle and wonder that is nonlinear editing. 

Seriously.

But the next generation of prosumer camera is taking it a step further. And it is already here, in increasing numbers: The Panasonic HVX200 and the Sony XDCAM EX series have our attention, to be sure.

The big difference between this new generation of cameras and our XH-A1 is the use of solid state memory cards for capture. This calls for some changeup in hardware and in workflow, and has some downsides too.

But from where I stand drag-and-drop capture to your editing machine, and to your backup devices (as opposed to real-time capture from a tape-based system) seems like a HUGE advantage.

As I type, we’re struggling with an evolving system for getting our interviews translated/transcribed. More on that in another post (as I will be asking advice). The problem is, in order to output something we can review–either on DVD or in a Quicktime file, Final Cut takes something like 2-4 times the length of the sequence to give us a file. And this after real-time ingestion. Ugh.

Anyhow, the camera. I really love this camera’s lens. The images it makes are pleasant and sharp and it renders colors well. It’s got a pleasantly wide perspective at the short end, and a longer reach at the telephoto end that I usually use.

I would be delighted if the maximum aperture of f/1.6 stayed constant through the zoom range (at the long end, the lens stops down to f/3.4, meaning you lose ~two stops of light when you zoom in at maximum aperture, dang it)–but of course there are realities of physics and economics to thank for this.

Here’s a laundry list of things I like about the XH-A1:

Shape/size/industrial design/form factor: It fits me. Could be balanced a little better (a bit front-heavy), but otherwise, it’s a tidy package. Good looking and durable, without being super ostentatious. Fairly ergonomic in the controls department (with a great deal of flexibility and customization available). All is not perfect in ergo-world, but in general, it’s a solid package for our purposes.

Autofocus: Canon’s got a name for it, and it uses a special eye beside the lens to accomplish (when you don’t have the wide angle adaptor on), but for my purposes, I can say that it works pretty darn well. Certainly better than our old Sony PD100 (from 1998). Would love to have selectable focus zones like the stills cameras do, but even without this, this camera seems to do a pretty good job of guessing at what I want in focus. When running and gunning, this is major plus. 

Decent low-light sensitivity: I understand this is an achilles heel on the HDV cameras, as compared to older DV cameras like the Sony PD170. I’ve never used that camera, but I gotta say, the XH-A1 does okay in low light. We’re filming a lot in unlit rooms, by indirect window light. And as long as we keep the lens at the wide end (at maximum aperture), we think we’re getting usable, and pretty images, even without gaining up the signal. If we are right on this, it will mean to us that the secret is to let a dark scene play dark, and not try to force the camera into lightening it up. This is where that crunchy-creepy gain-grain starts to come in. 

Audio: When we do our job, this camera records very usable sound. There are complaints out there from audio people more knowledgeable than I, and I expect they are right. But for us here in modest-production-values world (where story, not technique, is key), the audio section of this camera seems to be more than up to the task. Like the ergnomics, though–this is not without its peeves (see below).

Here’s a list of our dislikes/peeves about the XH-A1 (not in any particular order):

Onboard mic: Sounds decent, but it’s way too wobbly. I wish it appeared to be mounted more robustly. It does pick up some mechanical noise from the tape transport as well, but to be fair, I don’t hear much handling noise from it wobbling in the mount. So maybe this is an esthetic compaint. It looks like it’s trying to fall off the camera. 

We’ve taken to putting a hypercardioid mic in a shockmount on top of the camera, when we want good ambient sound.

XLR input block: There are two phantom powered XLR inputs on the camera, and a somewhat confusing array of powering/leveling options for controlling these. There are two channels which can be controlled separately with knobs at the back of the camera. If we are using one mic, I prefer to put the signal intotwo channels, running one kind of low for safety (in case the subject laughs real loud, shouts, or whatever), and one kind of hot (so we’re sure to get all the range of her/his voice. In order to do this on the XH-A1, I must use a splitter cable. Not a huge deal, but it could easily be implemented internally (and is on lots of other cameras). 

Clumsy controls: At the back of the camera are the two pots that control the audio signal gain, one per channel. These are mounted on the left side of the camera, nearly flush with the camera’s chassis, and–as they are apparently meant to be operated from behind, rather than from beside the cam–turn in the opposite direction to what we expect.

Two problems here. One: the flush mount. Nice to have low profile knobs. But really, these are pretty important controls, and they should have the push-click retractable style of knobs–push them once, and they pop out for easy adjustments; push them again, and they nestle back flat. Two: Make them turn the right direction. If you want them on the back of the camera, mount them on the back of the camera. On linear adjustment knobs, we’re used to ‘clockwise=higher’, and these knobs require the opposite.

Another clumsy control is the neutral density switch. Great that it’s right there in the neighborhood of the rest of the exposure and focus controls. But it’s an undamped slider switch with two steps and a long throw. I haven’t used other cameras’ manual ND switches, but I find this one very difficult to use without jostling the camera (especially if I’m shooting handheld, but even on sticks).

The AF/M focus control switch is also kind of clunky. I toggle back and forth between autofocus and manual focus a fair amount, and an easier to find, softer-action switch would be appreciated.

Minor Niggle: Zebras and Peaking and Magnification. Great features all. I would love to be able to use zebras and peaking at the same time, optionally. I would love to be able to turn on magnification while shooting. Zebras are an exposure aid and magnification and peaking are focus aids. Being able to use them together would be helpful, especially with the…

So-so AF with the Wide Angle adapter: Canon’s WD-H72 wide angle adapter is a decent chunk of glass, I think. It’s heavy, it only gives .7x magnification (making your widest shot 70% of the focal length of the unadapted lens). It’s zoom-through, meaning that in a pinch you could zoom in with it on. Apart from being a bunch of extra glass between the sensor and the subject–making it prone to light loss, image quality degradation such as chromatic aberrations, barrel distortion, and flare from light sources–it also blocks the autofocus sensor that enables the cameras “instant AF” feature.

That means that the camera has to use old-fashioned AF (or manual focus, of course) to focus the wide angle lens. And it doesn’t do that great a job. There seems to be a fair bit of hunting/pumping, especially if anything in the frame is moving. So it seems the wide angle lens is best used when the subject will be remaining either centered in the frame, or at a constant distance/in a static shot, so that you can use manual focus. 

No filter for Wide Angle lens: With a front objective of 109mm, it’d probably break the bank to buy one anyhow, but I do prefer to keep a UV filter on the front of our lenses, to protect against fingerprints and dust and mud and goat noses and whatnot. As it is, the dinner-plate-sized lenshood for the wide angle does a reasonable job of fending off errant crap.

LEICA M8: This deserves its own post. Look for it. But… short answer: Falling in and out of love.

The angstiest of all the gearhead angst–this camera and these lenses are heartbreakingly wonderful when used in their (sadly, too-) limited ideal situations. If I had $15,000 extra lying around, I would happily buy and keep this outfit (M8, 28mm Summicron ASPH, 35mm Summilux ASPH, 75mm Summicron ASPH) for the times when I’m shooting in and around those situations.

It would be very gratifying to do so. It is for this reason I cannot fault those who endlessly sing the praises of the M8 (and screech in its defense whenever it is criticized). If it works for you, great. It works for me too–just not quite universally enough that I can justify such deep investment in the system.

In the short time I’ve had it, I have made what I expect will become some of my favorite images of my career.

And when I send this kit back to Leica, it will be with actual figurative tears in my eyes that I wave bye-bye. There simply is something special about the lenses. Leica has done a wonderful job of making a first draft of a premium digital rangefinder.

It’s my hope that the second draft will be a genuine killer app that honors, rather than compromises, the name and legacy of the Leica M cameras. All it needs is to be more reliable, less flakey, a bit quicker, and and a bit closer to current tech in terms of high ISO shooting. Full frame would be good, but even that I could live without if there were a fast wide lens that focused 100% accurately.

Follow-up note here: Here’s a link to a review from a press photographer using an M8 in much more critical situations that we’re encountering. I don’t want to ride his coattails, but his thoughts are pretty much in line with mine. You can also read some M8 owners discussion of this review, on a forum devoted to the M8.

Final M8 note for this entry: Even though I can’t justify purchasing one of these for myself, I still gotta say: It’s the camera of all the cameras out there that this gearhead longs to own. It breaks my heart, this little beast.

ZYLIGHT Z90: What a great light!

We don’t use an on-camera light very much. Not very much at all. But it’s good to have one when you need it, and this is as good a light as I can imagine. We’ve used the light on a stand when shooting interviews outside–just out of the frame, just to put a bit of catchlight in the talent’s eyes. We’ve also used it in a couple of interview sessions in particularly dark settings, to add a bit of sparkle to the context of the room we’re in.

I love the versatility of having onboard color adjustment without having to filter the thing up. It uses three different colored lamps, in varying proportions to achieve this. In person, I find the shadows this produces to be a bit distracting–they’re different colors! But I haven’t noticed this in the video yet, and don’t anticipate a problem.

Example of how adjustable color is great? We were shooting an interview in a tiny, tiny house, right on a busy road. No electricity, and the only light was from small windows admitting sunlight reflected off road and the vivid blue building opposite. I was able to dial in a Kelvin temperature of 8000 to balance the light the Z90 was throwing with the ambient light, so that there wasn’t a big mixed light jumble (I then white balanced to the light in the room). It made the light much more subtle–we don’t really want to draw attention to the fact we’re lighting shots like this.

The light was placed to the camera’s right, pointed generally upward and into the room, providing some fill to the right side of the background. The Zylight’s broad even spread of illumination makes it good for this kind of use.

In use, the device is great. Super solid and robust feeling. Very high quality switches inspire confidence it’s something you would be able to use for a good long time (as befits the super long service life of the LED lamps, I suppose). It’s not a cheap thing, in construction or in price. But It is a good package.

As a newbie to video lighting, and based upon what I’d read, I ought to say I was surprised at how little light this thing throws. Probably I spent too much time absorbing hype about the miracle of LED technology, and my idea of how many lumens can do how much lighting was colored more by hope than by physics.

For example, in broad daylight, there is just about no discernible fill effect from the light, unless you’ve got the light right on top of the subject. Most you can hope for is a tiny spark in the eye. Now, sometimes that’s all that’s needed, and that’s how we used it (I don’t have a framegrab for this yet). 

I anticipated using it as a rimlight, or background interest light in occasional interior shoots, but it’s turning out that we’re shooting more natural light, for a more organic feel. Better DP’s than I will know how to use the equipment so that the two aren’t mutually exclusive, but my video lighting skillset is pretty limited yet. So take my evaluation for what it’s worth.

BRUNTON SOLARIS: We had the use of a 26-watt Brunton solar panel on our trek. This is a good, lightweight, robust device that helped us to keep our batteries charged… a little bit.

The little bit is because of the bad weather we had, not because of any flaw with the equipment. It rained or snowed on us every single day, and was cloudy most of the time.

We had anticipated using the panel on the move–flopping it over a porter’s pack with a wire running into a battery pack inside. In use, owing to the weather, and secondarily to the practicalities of the way the porters pack and carry their baskets, this proved to be impractical.

In all probability, had we had a more pressing need for battery power, we would have been able to make this work. But we’d brought sufficient batteries to last us (with conservative use and occasional solar charging, and with unexpected power availability in dribs and drabs along the way). 

Our powering situation was thus: Brunton had sent us a battery pack, which upon testing turned out not to charge, and is home in Seattle. The day before we left for the trek, I fried an ebay NRG lead acid 12v battery pack here, by attempting to charge it with the wrong adapter. Dumb. 

This led to a frantic chase across Kathmandu to find a 12v sealed lead acid motorcycle battery, wire this with the old 12v accessory/cigarette lighter socket from the NRG pack, and put it in a North Face knockoff fanny pack. This battery would form the basis of our charging operations while on the trek, as all our chargers (okay, most of them) had the ability to charge from a 12v DC source.

And it was this battery that I charged on occasion with the Brunton Solaris. We had no meter (an oversight I’ll remedy on the next expedition, should there ever be such a thing), but we observed that the battery never seemed to go flat, and never got smoked like the NRG battery did. 

Only one time did I run batteries flat–it was Leica batteries (By the way, don’t buy the Impact brand battery for the M8–it doesn’t communicate well with the camera or charger, and occasionally needs to be drained by leaving the camera display on for several hours in order to take a proper charge), and it was my fault.

All in all, our complicated power/charging facility worked out pretty well, even during the times we were up high in the cold, swapping batteries out of our pockets into the still and video cameras to keep things rolling. And it wasn’t crazy overkill, either–we used just about everything we brought, I’m pleased to say.

Not that I wouldn’t like to streamline the system some before next time.

KATA HB-207 camera backpack. I knew I needed a pack with some fairly serious room inside, and I knew that the camera oriented packs out there tend to be both expensive and heavy, because of the protection they’re meant to provide your precious gear. 

The Kata has a semi hardshell exterior, and had come recommended by a colleague of Amy’s from the Barefoot Workshop–said it protected the XH-A1 in the field really well. It was between this pack and (if I recall correctly) the Lowepro SuperTrekker AWII. 

Man, I’m hot and cold on this pack. It’s so heavy. And big. And it’s got this weird curved zipper for the main compartment’s contoured door/flap, that binds very annoyingly. And in spite of being so tall, the distance between the shoulder straps and the hip-belt is too short (it doesn’t even rest properly on Amy’s hips, and she’s pretty short of torso).

But it fits our stuff pretty well. The XH-A1 will go inside, nestled into the center of the main compartment, lens down (with either the normal lens/hood or the wide angle lens/hood in place), leaving the sides for mics, tapes, batteries, still lenses, cables, etc. The headphones go above the camera… it all just fits.

A couple times we noticed the onboard mic of the A1 was sagging more than usual, owing to pressure on it from the pack’s lid. The rearmost/bottom part of the pack is kind of armored, and this is the main selling point, I think. But there is barely enough room in there for the A1.

It took some fiddling to configure the dividers in such a way that they seem to provide a little extra resistance to smushing in that part of the pack–I kind of made that part into a roof that I hope provides some protection for the onboard mic.

My overall feeling about the pack is, plenty of problems, but it gets the job done. I also carried it on the trek, when we left the XH-A1 in Kathmandu, and just used the little HV20. The Kata pack gave us plenty of flexibility for configuring compartments for stills gear, audio things, and general trekking/hiking equipment like sunscreen and raingear. The porters couldn’t believe how heavy the empty pack was. I’m with them.

The price of strength?

…thirteen year old farmgirls want to grow up to be farmers, it seems. “If you could do anything you wanted to when you grow up, what would you do?” We asked Saru.

“Probably work in the fields here,” she said. “Well, I love it, and it would give enough time to hang out with my friends.”

Saru’s mother, Kancha didi, whom we also interviewed, spoke with obvious pride about the difficulties she had convincing her husband of the value of educating his daughters, and of the blessings Saru’s education in particular has brought their family.

“She taught me to speak the Nepali language,” she told us (Gokarna is a Newari village, and the many there don’t speak Nepali at all). “She taught me to write the letters, and to sign my name. I am illiterate, but now I can sign my name instead of using a thumbprint when we do any business on the farm.”

Saru’s mother is a kind, warm, solid woman with firelight in her eyes. She loves her daughters and is proud of her son, and has (what we interpreted as) a crystal clear understanding of the primacy of strong women in her world. She is a little leary of her husband, but she seems to make room for the warmth between them as well.

Kancha didi, just after the interview. Her oldest daughter and ridiculous/cute puffy dog look on.

Nutan making nice with Kancha didi, Saru’s mother, prior to our interview.

It was while we were in the field shooting that I got the leech. Apparently they hang out on the grasses, and then when you walk by, they jump onto your legs and crawl up your socks until they find leg. I’m guessing it was a little guy–never saw him, but had a little sucker hole on my leg and a patch of dried blood at the end of the day. Leeches. We’re so cool, huh?