La fabricación artesanal de las lentes Leica. Vía altfoto.com
Vivimos en un mundo automatizado donde prácticamente cada cosa que tocamos fue hecha, manufacturada y ensamblada por una maquina. En cierta manera nos da la seguridad y la precisión de que cada elemento es fabricado igual al otro, siguiendo ciertos estándares de calidad y certificando que no habrá errores en su producción. Ademas de una mano de obra mucho mas barata, permite la aceleración y producción a altísima escala, cuyos competidores humanos no podrían igualar.
En contra de todo esto, parece que en el Leica han decidido obviar, al menos en una parte, este progreso tecnológico y dejar en mano de las personas la precisión. ¿Creían que las lentes de esta marca eran superiores por sus propios estándares de calidad? Pues parece que lo mas importante en estos cristales es el factor humano. A continuación podrán ver un vídeo de lo mas espectacular, donde se muestra la producción casi artesanal de lo que parece ser una Leica Noctilux 50mm f/0,95, una de las lentes mas caras de la compañía:
Es increíble ver la cantidad de manos humanas que intervienen en el proceso de producción y no como parte de interacción con una maquina, sino en la realización y puesta a punto de la lente. La dedicación de las personas trabajando allí es envidiable y sin duda se nota en sus resultados debido al posicionamiento internacional de la marca.
Leica Camera AG es una compañía alemana de producción de lentes, cámaras y dispositivos de agrimensura y geomática. Fue fundada en 1913, con la producción de las primeras cámaras de la mano de Oskar Barnack. Actualmente ocupa en el mercado un segmento especial, designado para aquellos que buscan excelencia en la imagen, óptica y estatus social.
Urbanautica: Interview with Canadian landscape photographer Scott Conarroe. Via manfrottoschoolofxcellence.com
The words and images proposed this week by Urbanautica for Manfrotto School of Xcellence, are taken from the special interview with Canadian landscape photographer Scott Conarroe, on his series ‘By Rail’ and ‘By Sea’.

«Well, I arrived at art with a functional road trip practise already in place. Most of the decade between high school and my BFA was spent living out of a van… yes, The Nineties. I’d work seasonally in the mountain parks or bush, then I’d enjoy a few months skiing and farting around. Even my art school years were split between the van and apartments. The case could be made that my primary practise is vagrancy and photography helps me masquerade as a professional.»

«For By Rail and By Sea I didn’t plan the routes much. I set up a few artist talks and drifted between them. These were nice, expansive projects but structured concisely enough (railroads, coastline) to keep me on track. Sometimes I consult Google Earth to see the lay of the land, but usually I just go places I’d like to spend a day or three or twenty and ride my bike around looking for things to climb up . The things I photograph are often determined by their proximity to something I can get on top of. There’s a spiel about how/why the elevated perspective functions aesthetically, rhetorically and in the history of image making, but mostly I like the privacy it affords me. Sometimes I make exposures at ground level (and sometimes I really like them), but generally I feel conspicuous and a little silly on the street. Up high, where I’m hard to notice or approach, it feels like watching the show rather than setting up a 4×5 spectacle.»

«The elevated viewpoint is useful in this conversation because it dislocates the usual vantage of five or six feet off the ground. By suspending perspective, Place becomes less an area we could hypothetically occupy and more a diagram of such a space. It is rendered somewhat placeless. I think these senses of being and being without are what you’re describing as transitory.
Over the past few years I’ve chosen seemingly basic topics that become ambivalent quickly. Rail lines are the subject of By Rail, but they function like extras rather than stars; they’re seldom the focus of scenes and often they’re barely even there. I see the tracks and camera as parallel apparatuses; they were born of the same period and revolutionized the world in similar ways, and now they both sit perfectly still while the world washes over them… so yes, By Rail is way more about Time than steel.»
Fotografía callejera sin miedos. Vía fotoaprendiz.com
Escrito por Vicente Alfonso | Secciones Detrás de la Cámara, Videos
La semana pasada publicamos un video grabado con una go-pro, de un fotógrafo y su M9 paseando por la calle. Vimos su forma de trabajar la fotografía, cuanto menos indiscreta.
Ahora tenemos de nuevo a otro fotógrafo con su M9 (si, está de moda disparar con una cámara de 5000 € por la calle), grabando a través del visor de la cámara y veremos, con la tranquilidad que se toma disparar a diestro y siniestro por la calle.
Es un tipo de fotografía que me fascina, por sus aleatoriedad de resultados, pero de verdad, para lo poco que he hecho en España, la gente no se lo suele tomar de una forma tan pacífica. Sería fácil ver a unos padres montando un pollo por haber retratado a su hijo o alguien empujándote para que le borres la foto.
Mysterious Nazi Photographer Identified With Help From Blog Readers. Via silberstudios.tv
The photo album of German photographer Franz Krieger. Photo courtesy of the New York Times
Less than 24 hours. That’s how long it took readers to help identify the mysterious photographer of a recently discovered photo book containing never-before-seen images of Nazi leader Adolf Hitler.
Lens, the New York Times’ photography blog, asked its readers on Tuesday to help solve a World War II photography mystery. A New Jersey fashion industry executive had lent an old book to the blog, asking for help in identifying its photographer. When the Times put the question to its readers, it took less than a day for the mystery to unravel.
The photographer in question was revealed to be German propaganda artist Franz Krieger, who captured photos of the Eastern Front and of Hitler visiting Hungary. Two readers specifically helped solve the riddle: Harriet Scharnberg, a student of German propaganda photographs, and author Peter Kramml, who, as luck would have it, has actually written a book about Krieger’s work as a Nazi photographer.
The discovered album itself is a work of both art and horror. It manages to show Krieger’s skill in capturing candid, human images of German soldiers, as well as pictures of some of the Third Reich’s first victims in the war. Photographs of Jewish and Russian army prisoners are featured just pages away from unseen portraits of Hitler.
To see more of the photographs, and to read about the mystery of Krieger’s photobook, head to the Lens.






