Oh Crap. It's another column wherein I'm thinking about the future.

I've been in the advertising business and the photography business for a long, long time.  I'm also married to a graphic designer who spent most of her career in advertising agencies.  I'm no stranger to what's been happening in that industry.  It no longer resembles the terrain you see in Mad Men.  

Just as the photography industry has weathered the onslaught of mindless, royalty free stock, legions of people with cameras willing to work for free,  and crumbling markets for traditional print content, the ad industry has had their share of bombs dropped.  When I ran an ad agency we'd place media for clients in exchange for a 15% mark up.  Place a million dollar campaign and you're take would be, roughly, $150,000.  Sure, we had to research and negotiate for the best deals but it still covered a lot of creative costs.  Over the years clients have whittled away at the 15%.  Now many agencies just do the research and the buy for hourly fees.  A couple hundred bucks an hour doesn't come close to the 15%.

At the same time ad agencies made a profit on printing and creative suppliers.  The mark up on outside suppliers was between 15 and 20% of production costs.  So, if you hired a photographer and he did a campaign and billed you $60,000 your mark up on his bill was $9,000+  If you really beat the photographer up and convinced him to do the job at $6,000 you pocketed a less healthy $900 but your time commitment remains the same while your risk that the image won't be exactly what you wanted grows.

Instead of pushing back on clients and educating them about what it costs to do things right  ad agencies and the art departments in magazines seem to be rolling into the fetal position on prices and lying on the floor whimpering.  What's a photographer to do?  Well, one thing would be to accept the reality that ad agencies aren't the Mecca of creative suppliers that they used to be.  You might be a lot further ahead if you went directly to the all the clients you're interested in working with and allow the work to trickle backwards.  There's no law that says you can't market to both sides at once.  

And, in the case of big businesses, you might encounter these things:  Less fear.  A well run business doesn't need to cut corners to impress anybody.  When you take fear out of the equation both sides can have a frank discussion about value being added and opportunities to excel.   You'll find.....bigger budgets.  Again, there are fewer people in the middle and, if you are lucky enough to work "direct" you eliminate the decay of communication.  You'll also be a better value proposition for the client.  

You'll also find that direct corporate clients pay their bills quicker than most ad shops.  You just have to understand their accounting systems and leverage it.  Did you know that America's number three computer company is happy to pay their photographers, upon delivery, via PayPal? Squabble all you want about an extra couple of percentage points you'll give up but I'd much rather take the hit and have money in the bank now.  Before inflation kicks in.  Hey, opportunity = cash flow.

So, why was I thinking about all this stuff in the first place?

Well.  My friend, Paul Johnson, came into town from New Orleans.  Paul is always on top of the latest technology and the coolest trends. He's done incredible cookbooks and travel guides and he's been everywhere.  We actually bumped in to each other in Rome a few years back.  Totally unexpected.

Anyways, he comes into town and we meet at Sweetish Hill Bakery to catch up.  He plops an iPad on the table and basically, over the next hour, tells me that everything has changed.  From writing books (which we both do with alarming frequency) to advertising to marketing to technology.  I get it in a big way.  He gets all the smaller ways as well.

We talk about advertising.  He points to multiple niches and click thru accountability---something traditional media only dreamed of.  He talked about interactivity and accessiblity.  And then he talked about something we both have been concerned about, vetting editorial content.  I can pretty much write anything I want here on the blog, and you have the choice of believing me or not.  But if I write for a publisher they have people who fact check and spell check (manually---with human eyes and brains) and they add value with editing and design and typesetting.  Then they add additional value with a distribution chain.  

We talked about an intersection of the two hemispheres.  Paul sees the web rapidly monetizing itself thru what I would call "on demand" programming.  The NYT is about to move to a paid model.  The Wall Street Journal has always been a paid model.  To bring it to a "local" level, both Lloyd Chambers and Sean Reid only make their content available as paid material.  You have to pay to read.  And people do.  Paul postulates that the web will change.  There will be two tiers.  There will be vetted material that is vastly different than the rantings of some guy in his basement in North Dakota and people will be willing to pay for the vetting.  Just like they pay for apps or movie content.  

I think more and more stuff will be programming.  Like short instructional videos and actual entertainment programming.  Time to learn those video chops.

Paul has a way of shaking me up and making me think.  I processed his version of the new web and the new media and I believe two things, really.  One is that the pads will be the medium going forward.  As prices fall for the iPad and it's type they will take over web surfing and communications duties from the laptops and desktops.  Secondly, I believe that the future of what we do lies in becoming the online publisher, not the online writer.  We need to coalesce the same kinds of professionals: editors, designers and production people, to replicate the process of vetted publications if we are to brand and own our part of the content space.  The wild west days of the web will give way to the new, smoother, better, more cogent content on the web.  People are moving from narrative to experiential.  From a recitation of history to a sideline seat at the present.

People don't have time to be their own aggregators and will need trusted vendors to do that.  The only way to do it is to monetize the content, not the adjacent advertising space.  

What does this mean for me?  Time to get off my butt and get a new iPad.  Time to explore publishing options.  Time to partner up with designer and a writer and some photographers and make content that people are willing to pay for.  Own the "tools" of production instead of laboring on the factory floor of the content industry.    Or...take another nap and see if this all blows over.  Any answer is right.

But in the end everything will change again and again until it all settles.  Grab onto one of the straps and hold on, the ride's not over yet......

My story on Austin Mexican Food For Tribeza Magazine. Just for fun.

This story ran in Tribeza magazine a while back.  I was driving with my kid yesterday.  I told him that good writers were rare in our society and that he should practice his writing.  I went on to say,  "If I were in charge I'd make you write a new essay every day."  He immediately countered with,  "If you did that I would be a much more rebellious child..." Touche'  This aricle may not appeal to everyone but it's a classic example in the editorial world of getting more work because you can put two disciplines together.  It's cheaper to put a writer and photographer on a plane if they are the same person........ And you get paid for both parts....

 A Taste of Mexico

Story by Kirk Tuck

There is a time and place for shiny, novel, ersatz, newcomer Mexican food, but the time is generally after an evening of drinking and the place is usually somewhere I really don’t want to be. Like most Austinites, I want my Mexican food to be authentic, tasty, and time tested. There has always been an uncomplimentary inflection involved in the discussion of Tex-Mex food that stems from the conceit that the clichéd gooey-cheese, orange grease, and tortilla-laden cuisine, cut with hot peppers, was invented only to insulate the human system from the onslaught of margaritas and beer and doesn’t really constitute nutrition or “cuisine.”

I couldn’t disagree more. Some of my all-time-favorite meals have come from a handful of Mexican restaurants sprinkled around Austin—meals that married incredible combinations of ingredients with masterful preparation. In fact, when “foodie” friends from either coast hit town in search of great meals, we usually default to one of three established favorites. These are restaurants that have three things in common: (1) They’ve stood the test of time and are just as relevant to diners today as they were the day they opened. (2) They’ve focused on providing engaging dining experiences that combine great food with just the right ambience. (3) The food is still the compelling reason for their existence.

The three restaurants I refer to are Fonda San Miguel, Manuel’s (on Congress Avenue), and El Azteca. They are totally different in style, presentation, and aesthetics, but each provides a rich experience in its own right.

In fairness, I should make this disclosure before going any further: We’ve been going to Fonda San Miguel for more than 25 years and El Azteca for at least that long, and we were around for the birthing of Manuel’s, which turns 25 this year.

These three restaurants offer totally different dining experiences; El Azteca is the prototypical family-run Tex-Mex-style restaurant serving traditional dishes that blend the tastes of South Texas and Old Mexico. Along with Matt’s El Rancho, El Azteca has set the standard for Mexican “comfort food” in Austin for decades. It’s the perfect place for cabrito and all our usual “combination plate” favorites. It’s very casual, with prices to match.

Manuel’s is the opposite of El Azteca’s homespun, East Side, laid-back feel. Located at the epicenter of downtown, Manuel’s is sleek and stylish. A study in black and white with touches of warm neon. The crowd on any given day is composed of young downtown professionals, a mix of advertising and magazine creatives with a blend of politicos and attorneys thrown in for flavor. The food is a perfect blend of interior Mexican traditionals with a generous nod to ongoing culinary evolution. And the presentation of the specialties is second to none.

Then there’s Fonda San Miguel: a world-class restaurant with a split personality. It can’t seem to decide between being a celebrated destination dining venue or a museum-quality art gallery, so it gracefully merges both inclinations to present a unique visual and gustatory experience beyond that of any other restaurant in Austin. Chef Miguel Ravago is doing wild and wonderful things that marry the finest traditions of haute cuisine with nuances of Old Mexico. When the food is combined with the incredible collection of art, the result is an evening that is very much a special occasion.

I’ll start with our Tex-Mex traditional, El Azteca. The building is modest and shows its age. The restaurant has been there for 46 years, after all. Walking in the front door, we were greeted by Daniel Guerra, the son of the restaurant’s founders. The walls are decorated with won- derfully kitschy Mexican calendars depicting “ripped” warriors atop Mayan pyramids and ample, half-naked women in ceremonial outfits from the ancient Aztecs, if the ceremonial outfits had been designed to be worn by Jessica Simpson at a car show. The calendars are a tradition started by Daniel’s father. He imported them from Mexico to be given away to regular customers. Now they are available for sale.

The highlight of our recent lunch was roasted cabrito (young goat) served in tasty, small chunks and accompanied by a traditional mild sauce, guacamole salad, and frijoles à la charra. The cabrito is a specialty of the house, and it was just right, almost crispy on the outside, tender and moist on the inside. We also ordered a vegetarian combination plate that took us right back to our early Austin Tex-Mex roots.

Refried beans, rice, a vegetarian taco, acres of wonderful queso, and an enchilada. Nothing heroic, just perfectly proportioned, and served promptly. From the fresh, hot chips to the easy-to-eat house-made salsa, everything about El Azteca says “rich, comforting food served up by family.” The one thing that will surprise you is just how affordable the food is.

Manuel’s Downtown is a great blend of streamlined, modern decor fused with authentic interior Mexican dishes that never disappoint. I love coming in for lunch with a fairly large party and sitting in one of the rounded, plushly upholstered corner booths with a view of the entire dining room. But the restaurant really comes alive during the dinner service, with the kind of bustling energy you normally experience in the most popular New York cafés. The waitpeople, dressed all in black, whip through the room. The patrons, also dressed mostly in black, meet and greet with alacrity, though the lucky ones who’ve already been served are oblivious to everything but the beautiful presentations and addictive smells and tastes of the great food.

On a recent visit we sampled an interesting trio of disparate dishes. The camarones veracruzanos, served on a bed of perfectly cooked rice, was a shrimp lover’s wish come true. Huge, plump sautéed shrimp, painted with a delicately spicy red veracruzano sauce, dominated the plate. The folks in this kitchen do seafood really well. Next we turned our attention to a crowd-pleaser, the enchiladas verdes. I order these chicken enchiladas covered with a piquant tomatillo sauce nearly every other visit to Manuel’s. The blend of cheese, chicken, and salsa is as close to perfection as you’ll find in Austin. On my last visit, I was pushed to try something new, so as a compromise I ordered the enchiladas banderas. The banderas are like an ultimate enchilada/ salsa pairing “taster” plate. Your choice of chicken, beef, tender pork, cheese, or mushroom enchiladas is sauced in all three of Manuel’s handcrafted signature salsas: verde, suiza, and adobada. Now I have a new favorite dish.

Most of the entrées are served with black beans and Mexican rice. Another dish that blew us away was the chile relleno en nogada. This is a roasted poblano pepper stuffed full of shredded pork, almonds, and raisin picadillo, topped with a walnut cream brandy sauce. A visual note that took the presentation to the next level was a sprinkling of brilliant vermilion pomegranate seeds. For lunch I can never resist the pork tacos, and I have another friend who is just addicted (really, in a very clinical way) to the ceviche.

I saved Fonda San Miguel for last because it’s so different from any other restaurant and even our own cultural expectations of what a restaurant can or should be. The luxe quality of the food is a given. But the food is just one part of an amazing blend of art, decor, cultural touchstones, attention to craft, and details, all of which come together perfectly. In most restaurants, waiting for your table is a bothersome experience that requires the more compulsive among us to keep one eye on our dinner companions and the other on the seating hostess to prevent “bureaucratic table loss.” At Fonda San Miguel your short stay in the atrium area will find you surrounded by exotic plants, graceful design nuances from the best of Old Mexico, and a collection of exceptional art. That would be real, museum-quality pieces that rotate through the restaurant from Tom Gilliland’s remarkable collection of eclectic and renowned international artists. Combine this with drinks from a well-versed bar staff and perhaps a plate of salmon tostadas to munch on, and you’ll find me hoping it takes at least half an hour for our table to be ready.

The two dining rooms are amazing. The larger room is delicately lit with strands of small spotlights that supplement the warm glow from a grand collection of majestic hanging bronze fixtures in the center of the room. The smaller room has some of my favorite paintings, and it also has a graceful sense of privacy about it. There is always one problem that afflicts Fonda San Miguel regulars, though. In a nutshell it’s this: If you order one dish you don’t get to order something else. Go for the Jaliscostyle steak caballero—a succulent 16-ounce bone-in ribeye served with chile de arbol chimichurri—and you won’t have any room left to even try the enchiladas suizas de jaiba (enchiladas stuffed with crab and covered with a white sauce). It’s a sad state of affairs for the indecisive.

On one of our recent visits we went with a dish that transcended the entire category of Mexican food. It was the cordero. Four plump, perfectly grilled lamb chops served with a chipotle cheese potato casserole and a mixed green salad. The lamb was easily as good as any cut of meat you’ll have at any premium steak house, while the subtle bite of the potato casserole provided a perfect counterpoint. Also sampled was a classic pescado veracruzano. A broiled fish fillet in a traditional Veracruz tomato sauce sprinkled through with onions, Spanish olives, and capers. It was a definitive rendition of a popular dish. The range of the menu is breathtaking, and the kitchen rarely stumbles. Add in a few extras like the person in the corner show kitchen continually making hand-formed flour and corn tortillas that come hot to your table, and a well-stocked selection of fine wines, and you’ll understand why people come from all over Texas for the Sunday buffet or from as far away as Paris to sample the offerings.

So the next time one of your confederates suggests “grabbing some Mexican food” at some new place that used to be an auto shop or at some dive that puts grated cheddar cheese garnishes on the tacos, that will be the perfect time to step up everybody’s game with a visit to one of the genuine masterpieces of Mexican cuisine. From basics to blue sky, these are the restaurants that deliver what you really want. If you haven’t been to these three temples to the various genres of Mexican food, I truly envy you. Now you get to try each one for the first time!

Another interesting Sunday that makes me think we haven't come as far as we think...

 Drying dishes in the kitchen the night after the party.

I've owned a Kodak DCS 760 since they were introduced back in 2001.  Or was it 2002?  No matter, it's a camera I've always enjoyed using if for no other reason that it was built on the chasis of the Nikon F5 and had, at the time, the best viewfinder, shutter and overall mechanical operation of any camera in the early part of the century.  I also shot a bunch of memorable ad campaigns with it.  It got a lot of use because one of the things Kodak did very well was the implementation of tethered shooting with Photo Desk software.

The camera is quite beefy at almost five pounds with a 50mm lens on the front.  Over time the inconveniences of using the camera became apparent in light of new competition.  The Nikon D100 was smaller and lighter.  The D1x shot faster.  The screens on the backs of newer cameras got bigger and better.  But I think the thing that finally got my pair of DCS 760's consigned to the "C" drawer of the equipment toolkit was the batteries.  The camera originally launched with NiCad batteries that had all the usual NiCad bugaboos.  The batteries, when new, were good for about 125 actuations.  Additionally, as long as the battery was inserted into the slot on the camera body the camera suck down power.  Even with the power switch firmly set to "off".   As the batteries aged they were good for fewer and fewer shots per charge.  Finally, when we got down to 20 or so shots per charge the camera was relegated to shooting only in the studio and only when cabled to the AC adapter.  Why bother to keep them for so long?  Well, there were sharper and the color bit depth was nicer than any of the six megapixel cameras Nikon had on the market over the years.  Finally Nikon introduced the D2x and I put the Kodak's away.

Every once in a while, in a fit of nostalgia, I'd do a big internet search for new batteries.  But the few times I found suppliers the batteries were in the $149 price range and when I inquired they were invariably out of stock.  Eventually I dumped most of my Nikon stuff and started up an "on again/off again" relationship with Olympus.  Then, realizing that I could be married to more than one camera system I also added the Canon stuff.  Now were shooting with 21 megapixels or shooting with cameras that fit in my palm and take older Pen lenses.  But I never got over my infatuation with the Kodaks.  And every once in a while I'd come across a photo from those cameras that was......perfect.  Technically as good as the stuff I produce today (within the resolution limits) and with a color palette that's enchanting.

I guess I'll open myself up to a little ridicule and say that they were the first digital cameras I used that really had "soul".  A feeling of ergonomic complicity.  Files that went beyond my one dimensional intentionality and worked on many levels.

So a week ago I came across another one of those (wow) photos and I did another web search.  But it started and ended at Amazon, my online vendor of choice.  A vendor offered brand new metal nickel hydride batteries for $49 each.  I ordered two.  They came quickly and I charged them up.  Today was my first opportunity to put them to the test.

Flowers from Leslie.


So I clicked the 50mm Nikkor 1.1.2 AIS lens on the front and, after a few shots around the house I headed downtown to get in a nice walk and a wine tasting at Whole Foods.  I brought both batteries, fully charged, anticipating the same kind of performance I'd gotten from 760 type batteries in the past.  I shot over 225 images with the first battery and it's still reading a full charge!!!  I feel liberated.

In case you're thinking about running out and buying a DCS 760 for yourself let me arm you with a few caveats.  Mind you, these are things I'm willing to work around because I've worked with much tougher cameras and I don't presume they'll make French toast for you and also clean up the kitchen for you......

The screen on the back is as close to non-functional as you can imagine.  I use it only to set menu items and make sure that the whole system is still working.  There's no way you could use that screen to judge exposure.  And you'd be foolish to even think about judging color on it.  It's dark, it's horribly contrasty and three or four colors have over the top saturation problems.

I do what photographers have done for over a century.  I look at the light and guesstimate and exposure. I'm usually pretty close but even if I'm up to one full stop over this camera's raw files make short work of it.  They have latitude that makes some current cameras seem like three stop toys.  I drag the slider back in Lightroom (which does a superb job on conversions from the DCR files) and I'm right back into the sweet spot.  Just don't under expose!!!!  That's a problem.  The blue channel gets very noisy if you have to push the pixels......

My biggest caveat for you is this:  Be careful shooting this camera.  When you see the "Kodak" color and the sharpness of a camera with NO anti-aliasing filter you'll never want to go back.  Seriously.  The color is just so good.  It was the first series of cameras to supply color into 16 bit channels.  Not the 14 or 12 bit color of today's cameras.  We're talking "Holy Grail" color.  And, within the six megapixel resolution, the sharpest camera ever created.  It spanks the Nikons and the Fujis and especially any of the six megapixel Canons out there.  If you use one you'll start trying to convince clients to work with smaller files and smaller final image sizes just because it's so nice.

But not everyone is into just sharp if they can have sharp and resolution.  And I see the point every time I go big.  But if you go by the older standards of viewing distance the DCS 760 acquits itself well at enormous sizes.  There's something about sharp edges that transcends a lot of foibles in the quest for big prints.

Most clients are looking for web stuff.  If we only shot brightly lit scenes and in the studio we'd be able to please all but the most pretentious clients with this technology from nearly a decade ago.  But here's where my argument all falls apart:  Imagine a camera with only two ISO settings.  Imagine you have ISO 80 and, in a pinch, you can also use ISO 100.  There are ISO's all the way up to 400 but for the most part, unless you are going for a paean to Pointillists you'll want to stick to the bottom of the scale.  And that won't be fun for everyone who's been spoiled by the high ISO performance of Canon and Nikon's better cameras.  I'll face it, this camera makes my Olympus EPL-1 (at less than $500) look like a low light champ.

I also wanted to talk for a second about the reason I still have a few Nikon lenses even though I'm mostly shooting with a Canon 5D Mk2.  For some reason Canon is really good at everything but fast normal focal length lenses.  I'm sure they'll fix this deficiency at some point but I've shot with their 50mm 1.4 and their 1.8 (the "Nifty Fifty")  and, to be frank, I'm wholly underwhelmed.  So much so that I even went out and got my own Carl Zeiss ZE 50mm 1.4.  But after looking at results from the Nikon AIS 50mm 1.1.2 lens I think I've wasted some more money.  The Nikon is better wide open, better stopped down and better built than any of the Canon offerings.  (Yes.  That includes the 50mm 1.2 L which is overbuilt mechanically and under executed optically. If you gave me one I'd get my money back and buy the Nikon or the Zeiss 50mm macro.......)

All of the images I'm showing here were done with the Nikon lens.  And the results please me as much as when I use the Nikon lens on my Canon 5D.  What I like most about the Nikon 1.1.2 is the way it goes from wide open to 5.6 and the only thing that really changes is the depth of field.  The Canons are almost unusable wide open.  And really, that's a shame.  There are reasons, sometimes, to cherry pick the best from multiple vendors.....

I'm not writing this to push you to buy an old, rugged Kodak camera.  I guess my real intention is to make you think about the treasures you may have relegated to the equipment cabinet that may just need a new set of batteries.  If you've got an old Canon 1DS or a Nikon D1x or a Fuji Sx you might want to pull it out and re-evaluate it.  If you kept it around you probably know that there are some special attributes that attracted you to the camera in the first place.  Now that raw converters have become much better you might want to re-audition the older cameras just to see if they have some attribute that really makes them stand out.  In a good way.  Example:  I love the way the old Kodaks do sky.  Lovely blue and the contrast comes from being able to hold vast amounts of detail in the shadows.

There's a touch of magenta in these late afternoon clouds.  Do you know why?  Because it's late afternoon and there's a touch of magenta in these clouds.  I'm shooting a job later in the week with a famous computer CEO.  For that one I'll use the Canon 5D2 and the latest flash equipment.  For my own art?  Right now it's a toss up between the two Kodaks (DCS 760 and SLR/n) and the Sony R1.  Let me know which cameras from days gone by you think have a bit of magic in them.  There's bound to be dozens I haven't played with yet and I'd hate to miss something good.

Site Note:  I'd like to get to 500 followers.  It's an ego thing.  It looks good on the sidebar.  If you subscribe and you like what I write would you consider becoming a follower.  It's more fun for me if I can look you up and see what you're all about, too.  End of message.  I hope you're having a hell of a good holiday and not going anywhere without some kind of cool camera.


Best, Kirk

Today I'm taking a break from photography to host a party for 100 people.

If you've read my blog over time you know that I swim with a masters swim club.  We have some pretty august members.  Five or six gold medal winning Olympians, the random world record holders and even a few famous people from other sports.

And no matter what your rank in the pool if you swim with our group you are part of the team.  We swim six days a week and have workouts available at 7am, 8:30 am and at noon.  Longer workouts on Saturdays and Sundays.  We average 3,000 yards on weekday practices and 5,000 yards on weekends.

We have a number of coaches who were All Americans or Olympic contenters, on the deck.  To a person we are more competitive than most.

We swim in an incredible outdoor pool that's heated to 82 degrees.  We swim there all year long.  Even when it snows.....

We generally get more natural vitamin D than any of our friends.  This year I'm hosting the Holiday Party for everyone at my house.

I've got a refrigerator full of spiral cut hams and smoked turkeys.  I've got cases of wine strewn thru the dining room.  Every one is supposed to bring a pot luck side dish. And if you don't like my wine then it's BYOB.  But what dawned on me is how great it is to have one hundred+ extra friends.  People I see four or five times a week and have for decades.  How we check in with each other.  How we take care of each other.  I think it will be amazing to see what all these people actually look like with their clothes on.......

Sometimes it feels great to take a day off from photography and just play with your friends.  The fire pit and the marshmallows are ready.  The weather report says "clear with a high in the 70's today."  I'd better charge the batteries for the point and shoot camera.  Something tells me we're going to want some documentation.