Olympus XA2 Review

The Olympus XA2 and all of its plasticky goodness.

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Let me start out this review by saying this; I never thought I would own a point and shoot camera. I went to an estate sale on my day off, looking for film cameras, and ended up leaving with two point and shoots, both from the same era.

The XA2 is not nearly as popular as its predecessor, the original XA. The XA put a little bit more of the exposure equation in the hands of the photographer, allowing them to choose focus distance, ISO, AND the aperture. The XA also had a slightly faster lens, with an f/2.8 instead of the XA2’s f/3.5 lens. While there are slight differences between the original XA and all its subsequent siblings, they all revolve around a 35mm lens in a very pocketable body. Most came new with some sort of flash unit attachment, which adds a little bit of length as it attaches to the side. The XA2 came with the A-11 flash unit, which I have, for the most part, left at home. The flash is like a bomb going off, usually providing a wonderful ‘deer in the headlights’ look.

The Body

Now that I’ve said my part about the flash, I’ll start with the body itself. It’s basically a plastic brick that fits in the palm of your hand, slides easily into any pocket, and does not draw any attention to the one holding it. The slider conveniently covers the lens, viewfinder, and light meter when closed, and also deactivates the shutter so you can’t accidentally take any shots. This small plastic brick houses a 35mm f/3.5 lens which is surprisingly sharp for it’s age. To keep the body as small as possible, they used a leaf shutter instead of a focal plane shutter. For those don’t know what either of those terms mean, just know that a leaf shutter is massively quieter than a focal plane shutter. The leaf shutter in this camera is one of the few things that isn’t plastic. Pressing the shutter button provides a quick click sound. Maybe the sound of a pen clicking, but much quieter? I’m not sure honestly, but it’s quiet.

The loudest thing about this camera is advancing the film to the next frame. Think disposable camera wind on noisy, and that’s exactly what this sounds and feels like. My particular copy doesn’t have the most consistent framing, but I have not had any shots overlap, yet. Besides pressing the shutter and selecting ISO sensitivity for the lighter meter, you can also shoot the focus range! The options are located to the left of the lens and show pictures interpreting the distance that the lens should about focus to.

• Bottom - Head & Shoulders - 4 feet

• Center - Full Body - 9 feet

• Top - Mountain - 40 feet

This method is called zone focusing, and is essentially a guess as to where your subject is. If it’s bright enough out, it doesn’t really matter if you set it in the right place, though I usually leave mine in the default center position. Which reminds me, the tab for the focus resets to the center when you close the slider, handy, but also annoying at times.

So there are three different things you can control, focus, ISO, the flash (if you have it on), and firing of the shutter. There are a few things about this camera that I don’t quite understand. There is the red light on the front of the camera, and I have no idea what it does. I haven’t seen it light up at any point in time since I’ve had it. There is a red light on the inside of the viewfinder that lights up if the shutter will be too slow, but the front light does not light up with it? Superfluous red light cover to make it look better? Another thing I don’t quite understand was the addition of a tripod socket on the bottom. I can’t imagine any person, ever, mounting this on a tripod. The socket itself is plastic, so I’m not sure how many uses it could take before it breaks. Also on the bottom of the camera is a little switch for a self-timer (which would explain the need for a tripod socket), and the battery check. I have no idea if it’s just my camera, but when I turn the switch to battery check, it makes a horrendously high-pitched whining noise. It doesn’t sound right, but the camera works so I haven’t worried about it. I haven’t tested the self-timer, but I’m sure it’s something like two or ten seconds before it goes off. I’ll try it one of these days.

Fuji Superia 400

Shooting Experience

Now that I’ve covered most of the body, I’ll dive into what I like and don’t like about shooting with it.

First off, sometimes it’s nice not to have to think about what you’re doing. See something cool? Point, and shoot. These cameras are great for a quick capture, a moment. If that sounds like your perfect shooting scenario, go ahead and get one of these, because they’re perfect for it! Most of the time I am very methodical about what and how I shoot. This camera is simply fun to use, so it’s an appreciated deviation from my normal style. I wish I had a little bit more control like I could with the original XA, but I’m not sure it would be quite as enjoyable of an experience.

So far, the camera is quiet, fun, and easy to use. The thing I absolutely love about this camera is how incredibly portable it is. Back pocket, front pocket, fanny pack; you name it, and it’ll fit. I haven’t tested the durability of it, but you could take this camera along with you just about anywhere, and it wouldn’t add more than half a pound of weight.

Fuji Superia 400. My therapists building is incredibly photogenic in the morning light.

Portable, quiet, fun, and easy to use. It’s honestly a great camera, one of the only major complaints I have is the rewind crank. Remember when I said the camera is a plastic brick? So is the rewind crank. It feels like it is going to break the entire time I’m rolling up a finished canister of film. 36 frames feels monstrously worse than 24 as you have 12 more frames of resistance to fight back into the film canister. I’m honestly surprised it hasn’t broken yet. Another thing I despise about the rewind crank is how it’s engaged. There is a tiny little button on the bottom of the camera, it unlocks the gears in the camera that advances the frame. If you don’t press this little button in, you can still get the film rewound, but each and every sprocket will rip and tear, and your entire roll of film with essentially be destroyed. Any guesses as to how I figured this out?

Kodak Portra 400, wine tour in Wisconsin.

If this does happen to you, I wish you the best of luck in cleaning out the tiny little squares of broken film sprockets, and I hope developing it goes as smoothly as possible. I’m surprised I even wasted time developing that roll of film after how fucked it got. I ended up throwing the entire roll of film away, just glad that the camera could take pictures.

If it weren’t for the rewind crank, and the rewind crank button, I think this would be an almost perfect camera. But since I can’t get over the rewind crank, I’ll probably keep looking for a better point and shoot that will work for me better. My next review will be on the Canon Sure Shot, which is another point and shoot that I’ve enjoyed using these past couple of months. The review for the Canon Sure Shot/Autoboy can be found here! If point and shoot cameras aren’t really your thing, I have a review on the classic Leica M3 here.

TLDR: It’s fun and easy to use, get it, but be careful rewinding the film.

And if you purchase an Olympus XA2 (Affiliate link to eBay) through that link, I get a little bit of a kickback so I can keep making reviews like this! And please feel free to let me know other cameras you’d like to see reviewed in the future.

Now onto more pictures!

Fuji Superia 400, taken 5 minutes from my house.

Kodak Portra 400, parking lot of the place above after a lot of rain.

Kodak Portra 400, lake after the rain. Featuring Miah in her constant state of movement.

Kodak Portra 400. Winona, Minnesota.

Drive and Direction

Every second or third Thursday, I go and see my therapist. I’ve been seeing him on and off for the past year and a half. He’s been absolutely instrumental in helping me with my direction, my personal issues, and life in general. He inspired this blog post, so, thank you Jeff.

Almost every person you meet along your way in life, has a passion of some sort. Some people have a passion for sewing, maybe painting. No matter the craft, bringing an idea into fruition is one of the most validating and rewarding things you can do. Holding something tangible, something real, that you made, it’s pure bliss.

At this very moment, I’m surrounded by different cameras, film I have developed myself, and photos I made are hanging on the wall. It’s clear to me that this is my passion. I love learning about the world around me, but this is the one thing that I have always come back to. It’s one of the few consistent things in my life (Miah of course is one), and sometimes that consistency provides solace in this hectic world of ours.

For the past two years, I’ve been trying to figure out how to turn this passion that I have into a career, something I can do day after day, and still be happy.

Jeff explained the situation as this (not exactly):

Passion is the engine, the fuel that makes the car go. People have the fuel, the energy, but they don’t always have the ability to direct themselves where they want to go. The steering wheel is that direction, it’s how you channel that passion.

The artist’s dilemma, how do I make this my reality? When you’re starting at the bottom, you won’t just fall into success. You have to sit down, figure out a plan, and execute it. I’ve been slowly piecing together this steering wheel, so I can finally drive the car with the roaring engine, where I want. It’s slow, there’s lots of friction, it’s frustrating, but I’m figuring it out.

I applied for a part time job, making more money hourly, but will be working much fewer hours in total. In this particular situation, getting a new job and no longer working at my full-time gig is the catalyst that will kick my ass into the next step. It’s motivation to keep pressing forward; motivation to make my dreams a reality.

I’m on the right road, at least I think I am. Wherever it takes me, I’m excited to see where it goes.

Cult Classics

Canon Sure Shot, Rollei 35s, and Olympus XA2.

These three cameras have some what of a cult following in the 35mm film community. Each one easily slips into a pocket without much fuss. Prices vary considerably between the three, but all will cost easily above $75 depending on where you purchase them.

The Canon Sure Shot is the most automated of the three cameras. The only thing you have control over (sort of), is the focus. The switch on the front allows you to “Pre-focus”, though it’s anybody’s best guess where it’s actually focusing. There is a small scale in the viewfinder showing you about where it’s focusing, but I really have no idea what the scale means in practice. Other than the pre-focusing option, all you do is point and shoot and hope that the photo turns out.

A little bit about the camera:

• 35mm film

• 38mm f/2.8 Lens

• Completely automatic point & shoot (except for the pre-focus)

• Decently sharp lens

The Rollei 35 S is completely manual and the most compact of the three cameras. It does have a light meter to help determine proper exposure but finding a battery for it isn’t the easiest; I’ve been guessing exposure. Shutter speed and aperture are controlled by the two front dials. Focus is of the zone-focusing style, which is basically guessing distance and hoping you get it right. This is the most well made camera of the three as well. 1960’s german engineering is something else.

A little bit about the camera:

• 35mm film

• Completely manual

• 40mm f/2.8 Sonnar Lens

• Most compact and extremely well built

The Olympus XA2 is a strange mix between the two other cameras. You must move the switch on the left of lens to determine where it will focus, so a much less accurate version of zone-focusing. Exposure is completely automatic. I feel most comfortable sliding this camera in a pocket since the lens is covered when closed. I’m not sure which one is quieter, this camera or the Rollei. Advancing to the next frame is the same as disposable cameras, with an edged wheel on the right side.

A little bit about the camera:

• 35mm film

• 35mm f/3.5 Zuiko Lens

• Mix of manual and automatic

• Easily the lightest of the three

I will write up a full review of each of the three cameras in the next month or so, going into more detail and showing pictures I’ve taken with each one. In the mean time, I’m going to hunt for a battery for the Rollei so I hopefully get some in focus shots.

Enjoying *Most* of the Process

There are multiple reasons I started shooting film again, but the biggest reason is that it slows me down and makes me more present in the moment. Shooting film is inherently a slow process, and since I started developing and scanning at home, it has become even slower. I’m learning to set aside an hour or two a week to develop film that has been sitting idly by for sometimes two months before I get to it.

Shooting is obviously my favorite part of the whole experience. Developing only takes about 20 minutes from start to finish, hanging to dry takes about two hours. I find the process of developing very therapeutic; I am fully engulfed in the moment, and it feels like my own form of meditation.

After the film has dried, I get to cutting it up into scannable sections to hopefully make it a little more efficient.

BUT, scanning is awful. It’s painfully slow, the software is buggy and reminiscent of early 2000’s Internet Explorer. It’s like someone designed the software back in ‘01 and failed to ever update the interface. Trying to edit within the scanning software feels like walking through the woods on an unknown trail, blindfolded. You take one step off the trail, kick a rock, trip and fall into a ditch. I’m only being slightly dramatic. Pull up the histogram to edit the blacks, mid-tones, and highlights, and what you see happening to your photo doesn’t make any sense compared to what you’re doing to the histogram. It’s incredibly inaccurate and doesn’t loan much confidence in the scanning program.

Epson V750 - Nothing PRO about it.

Another issue I had with scanning was the inability to leave the computer and software to run and go do something else. If you didn't keep clicking on the screen between every photo, it would stop. How incredibly efficient. After digging through a couple pages of Google results, I actually found out there is a solution to this stop-go issue I was having. I had to download another file which was separate from the main program, restart the whole software, and then it would scan continuously like it’s supposed to. I have no clue as to why they chose to keep those things separate instead of just including it in an update. But again, early 2000’s design.

Scanning does go quite a bit faster now, but it’s still the worst part of shooting film. If I have a professional lab do the scanning, I have to pay at least $20 a roll, and that adds up quickly with how much I shoot. Scanning at home is the more economic option, but my $300 scanner doesn’t quite give the quality that the professional lab’s $15,000 scanner is capable of.

If I try to push the scans too much while editing afterwards, they get some gnarly lines going up and down the frame. Everyone loves seeing lines going across the frame and spending 30+ minutes trying to edit them out right?

Unedited scan from an unnamed lab in Arizona. Notice the vertical lines across the entire image.

Any attempt to make the scanner do what it’s designed to do, and it’ll wreak havoc on the scans. I tried to apply the “Digital ICE” function to this picture to have the dust, scratches and other blobs removed from the photo. It didn’t work in the least bit, and honestly I think it made the entire scan worse than if I had kept it off like usual. These scans were a cluster from the beginning, as the lab I went to in Arizona mailed back the negatives on top of one another, which in the film world is a huge no-no. They stuck together, ready to rip off the emulsion from the negatives.

Thing is, just because there’s one awful part to shooting film, doesn’t mean I’ll stop anytime soon. The majority of the process is a blast, scanning just sucks. I leave the negatives under books for a couple days to help flatten them out anyways, and I’ve found myself doing that more often now that I’m scanning at home. Maybe one day I’ll be able to invest in a $15,000 scanner, but that ain’t happening for a long, long time. Until then, I’ll keep dealing with this crap shoot of a system.

The Case for an Expensive Tripod

Tripods, like cameras, lenses, and everything else in the world, come in a wide array of choices. Variety is the spice of life, but when it comes to anything photography related, things get quite blurred quickly. There are options ranging from the $25 Amazon Basics tripod, to a $1500 Really Right Stuff tripod. As the old adage goes, you get what you pay for. With tripods, that statement rings true in every single way.

I paid 80 dollars for my first tripod and head, and they worked the way I needed them to. As my gear collection and skill set expanded, I outgrew my tripod head. It couldn’t handle the weight of my larger lenses, nor could it spin horizontally like I needed when I got into panoramas. I ended up buying a new tripod head to mount onto the legs, spending another $100. That head worked great the last three years with the gear I had, but as my dive into medium format grew deeper and deeper (think holding two bricks worth of a camera), that tripod set up could no longer support my needs or my gear.

Size doesn’t always equate to increased stability, in this case it does.

Every time I put my camera on that tripod and locked it up, the legs would bend, the ball head would slowly adjust itself, and my composition I worked so hard to get would end up shifting into whatever the tripod felt most comfortable with. Long exposure shots would get blurred because the tripod would blow and bend with the breeze. I can’t even begin to count the number of shots that got ruined because my gear was too much for the tripod.

Both tripods extended to max height.

With my trip coming up, I knew I needed something sturdier if I wanted my shots to turn out. It was painful, but I ended up shelling out around $800 total for Oben carbon fiber legs and an RRS ball head. The difference between the two set ups was clear the first time I set them up next to each other. I put my camera on the new set, locked it in, and proceeded to push down on the top of it to see what would happen. I couldn’t believe what happened; Not. A. Damn. Thing. It didn’t shift or bow, I was blown away.

Six pounds of metal on top of another five pounds of metal.

Not only was the whole thing sturdier, it was friendlier to use. It’s quicker and easier to set up and take down. It’s weighs a whole lot more than my other tripod and head, but with more weight comes more security. I’m not saying to go spend $800 like I did, because honestly I’m kind of insane, but please spend more than you think you need to, because it will help in the long run as your needs grow.

“Your shots are only as sharp as your tripod allows them to be.” - No idea who said it but it’s a solid quote.