Zhao Zhenguo, Author at i35mm

The Contax G 35-70mm f/3.5-5.6: The Zoom Lens That Makes You Question Your Life Choices (But Only a Little)

Introduction: When “Why Not?” Becomes a Valid Reason

Let’s get one thing straight: the Contax G 35-70mm f/3.5-5.6 is the black sheep of the G-series lineup. It’s a zoom lens in a world of primes, a slow aperture in a system known for speed, and a quirky addition to an otherwise flawless family. So why did I buy it? To complete my collection. That’s it. No grand philosophy, no deep artistic reasoning—just pure, unadulterated completionism.

Is it perfect? No.
Is it ridiculously fun to own? Absolutely.

Optical Performance: “Surprisingly Not Terrible”

Specs:

Focal Length: 35-70mm (because sometimes you can’t decide).
Aperture: f/3.5-5.6 (or “how to make your photos look… modest”).
Construction: Unknown, but it’s Zeiss, so it’s probably over-engineered.

Sharpness:

Center: Surprisingly sharp, even at f/5.6.
Edges: Decent, but don’t pixel-peep unless you’re feeling masochistic.

Bokeh:

At f/5.6, bokeh is more of a suggestion than a feature. But hey, it’s a zoom lens—what did you expect?

Color & Contrast:

The T* coating works its magic, delivering colors that pop and contrasts that sing. It’s like Zeiss said, “Let’s make a budget lens, but not too budget.”

The Contax G Biogon 21mm f/2.8: A Lens So Wide, It Might Just Swallow Your Soul (And Your Wallet)

Introduction: When “Wide” Isn’t Just a Personality Trait

Let’s get one thing straight: the Contax G Biogon 21mm f/2.8 is the wide-angle wizard of the photography world. It’s sharp, it’s fast, and it’s so wide, you’ll feel like you’re shooting through a fishbowl. Released in the ‘90s as part of the legendary Contax G system, this lens is proof that Germans and Japanese can collaborate on something other than cars and sushi.

Is it perfect? No.
Is it ridiculously good for the price? Absolutely.

Optical Performance: “Sharp Enough to Cut Through Your Ego”

Specs:

Focal Length: 21mm (because 28mm is for cowards).
Aperture: f/2.8 (or “how to make your photos look expensive”).
Construction: 9 elements in 7 groups (because Zeiss loves showing off).

Sharpness:

Center: Razor-sharp, even wide open.
Edges: Surprisingly crisp for such a wide lens. It’s like Zeiss said, “Let’s make the whole frame usable.”

The Contax SL300RT: A 3MP Camera That Shames Your Fancy DSLR (And Your Hard Drive)

Introduction: When Pixels Were People, Not Prisoners

Let’s face it: modern cameras are like overachieving toddlers—always screaming, “LOOK AT MY PIXELS! LOOK AT MY DYNAMIC RANGE!” Meanwhile, the Contax SL300RT, a relic from 2003 with a measly 3.1 megapixels, is sitting in the corner sipping herbal tea, whispering, “Chill, dude. It’s just photography.”

I recently sent some photos to my pixel-obsessed friends. Their guesses? “Leica!” “Olympus!” Nope. Just a 20-year-old Contax that costs less than a USB cable.

The “Guess My Camera” Game: A Roast Session

Friend 1: “Not Canon. Their grayscale looks like a depressed pigeon.”
Friend 2: “Not Nikon. Too… soulful.”
Friend 3: “Definitely not full-frame. This has character.”
Me: [evil laugh] “It’s a 3MP Contax SL300RT.”
Friends: [silence, followed by frantic Googling]

The SL300RT’s Secret Sauce: “Grayscale So Smooth, It’s Illegal”

Specs:

Sensor: 1/1.8” CCD (translation: “smaller than a postage stamp”).
Resolution: 3.1MP (or “enough to print a passport photo… maybe”).
Lens: Contax Carl Zeiss Vario-Sonnar 7-21mm f/2.8-4.8 (because obviously).

This camera’s grayscale is creamy perfection. Modern sensors? They’re like over-salted fries—harsh and trying too hard. The SL300RT’s tones flow like a jazz solo, while your Sony A7IV’s shadows look like a spreadsheet.

Zeiss Jena 35mm f2.4 Meets March in Beijing

After the sleet surrendered,
Beijing exhales a sapphire sky—
clouds dissolve into spun sugar,
wind sheds its iron teeth.

This German lens, once sworn
to contrast sharp as Black Forest pines,
to colors steeped in Rhine wine,
hesitates before such tenderness.

In the RAW womb of light,
I knead shadows like dough—
temper the steel-edged gradients,
let pixels breathe chrysanthemum tea.

Now the frame remembers:
how March air hums between ancient eaves,
how dust motes cling to willow’s first yawn.
Zeiss optics, schooled in Teutonic precision,
learn to trace the curvature of time—

a city’s slow blink,
softened by dynasties of thaw.

The Fuji XF 35mm f/1.4 R: A Lens So Good, It Makes You Forget About Its Quirks (Mostly)

The Little Lens That Could

Let’s get one thing straight: the Fuji XF 35mm f/1.4 R is the underdog hero of the Fuji X-mount lineup. It’s small, it’s sharp, and it’s got a personality bigger than its f/1.4 aperture. Released in 2012 as one of Fuji’s first X-mount lenses, this little gem has aged like a fine wine—or at least like a decent boxed wine.

Is it perfect? No.
Is it ridiculously good for the price? Absolutely.

Optical Performance: “Sharp Enough to Cut Through Your Excuses”

Specs:

Focal Length: 35mm (53mm equivalent on APS-C, because math).
Aperture: f/1.4 (or “how to make your photos look expensive”).
Construction: 8 elements in 6 groups, including 1 aspherical element (because Fuji loves showing off).

Sharpness:

Wide Open (f/1.4): Center sharpness is chef’s kiss. Edges? Let’s call them “artistically soft.”
Stopped Down (f/5.6): Sharp enough to count the pores on your subject’s nose (if you’re into that).

Fuji X-Pro1 vs. X-Pro3: Why Upgrading Might Be as Useful as a Screen Door on a Submarine

Introduction: The X-Pro1 – A Love Letter to Analog Souls

Let’s get real: the Fuji X-Pro1 is the flannel shirt of cameras. It’s retro, it’s cozy, and it makes you look like you know what aperture means without actually having to explain it. But now Fuji’s waving the X-Pro3 in our faces like a shiny new toy. Should you upgrade? Spoiler: Probably not.

Sensor Showdown: “16MP vs. 26MP? Who Cares?”

X-Pro1: 16MP APS-C, no low-pass filter (because Fuji said, “Let’s make photos crispy”).
X-Pro3: 26MP APS-C, also no low-pass filter (because Fuji said, “Let’s make photos slightly crispier”).

Here’s the truth: unless you’re printing billboards of your cat’s whiskers, 16MP is plenty. The X-Pro1’s sensor is like a vintage vinyl record—flawed, charming, and way cooler than Spotify.

Pro Tip: If you’re upgrading for pixels, just zoom in on your existing photos and pretend.

High ISO? More Like “Why ISO?”

The X-Pro3 boasts better high-ISO performance. But let’s be honest: if you’re shooting in the dark with an X-Pro1 and the XF 35mm f/1.4, you’re already winning. This lens is so fast, it could outrun a toddler on sugar.

X-Pro1 at ISO 6400: Grainy, moody, artistic.
X-Pro3 at ISO 6400: Less grainy, slightly less moody, still not a night-vision goggles.

The Contax TVS II: A Camera So Quirky, It Might Just Steal Your Heart (And Your Wallet)

Introduction: When “Quirky” Is a Feature, Not a Bug

Let’s get one thing straight: the Contax TVS II is the eccentric uncle of the compact camera world. It’s sleek, it’s stylish, and it’s got more quirks than a Wes Anderson movie. Released in the ‘90s as part of the TVS (Titanium Vario Sonnar) series, this little gem is a testament to the golden age of compact cameras—when engineering met artistry, and every button click felt like a tiny rebellion against the digital future.

Is it perfect? No.
Is it ridiculously fun to use? Absolutely.

Design: “Titanium Chic, But Make It Functional”

Specs:

Build: Titanium body (because plastic is for peasants).
Size: Compact enough to fit in a jacket pocket, but heavy enough to remind you it’s there.
Aesthetic: A mix of retro charm and futuristic minimalism.

Power On/Off:

The TVS II’s power switch is the lens ring itself. Twist it to turn the camera on, and twist it back to turn it off. It’s like a combination lock, but for photography.

Pro Tip: Be gentle with the lens ring. The TVS series is notorious for fragile ribbon cables, and you don’t want to be the person who breaks it.

Lens Cover:

The automatic lens cover is a thing of beauty. Twist the lens ring, and the cover slides open like a curtain at a Broadway show. It’s so satisfying, you’ll find yourself turning the camera on and off just to watch it.

Optical Performance: “Zeiss Magic in a Tiny Package”

Specs:

Focal Length: 28-56mm (because sometimes you can’t decide).
Aperture: f/3.5-6.5 (or “how to make your photos look… modest”).
Construction: Vario-Sonnar design, because Zeiss loves showing off.

Sharpness:

28mm: Sharp enough to count the pores on your subject’s nose (if you’re into that).
56mm: Slightly softer, but still respectable.

Contax TVS Review: The Titanium Time Capsule Everyone Ignored——Why This Zoom Lens Gem Deserves a Second Renaissance

The Underdog’s Revenge

While Contax T3 prices soar to Leica-tier absurdity (now 1,500+),itsoverlookedsibling—theTVS—languishesat1,500+),itsoverlookedsibling—theTVS—languishesat200, begging for attention. This 1994 titanium wonder isn’t a “poor man’s T3”; it’s a stealth bomber of practicality. Yes, its 28-56mm f/3.5-6.5 zoom sounds pedestrian—until you realize:

Shutter Speed: 1/700s (slays Leica Minilux’s 1/400s)
Build: Full titanium shell, tougher than T3’s aluminum
Heritage: Carl Zeiss Vario-Sonnar optics, engineered in Oberkochen

The TVS is Kodak Gold in a Portra-priced world—unfashionable, underpriced, quietly brilliant.

Optics: When Compromise Becomes Genius

1. The 28mm Gambit
The TVS’s 28mm wide end (f/3.5) trades clinical sharpness for compositional freedom. Compared to cult compacts:

Camera	Wide Angle	Peak Sharpness	Street Price
Contax TVS	28mm f/3.5	8/10 (center)	$200
Minolta TC-1	28mm f/3.5	9/10	$1,000+
Ricoh GR1	28mm f/2.8	10/10	$600+

Verdict: The TVS delivers 90% of the GR1’s magic at 30% cost—with zoom flexibility.

2. The “Anti-Bokeh” Philosophy
Forget creamy f/1.4 dreams. The TVS’s f/6.5 tele end forces context-aware shooting:

Travel Archives: Backgrounds stay recognizable—no “Where was this?” frustration
Flash Aesthetics: Warm, diffused fill-flash mimics 90s disposable cams (in a good way)

Echoes of a Decade Past: Lyan’s Japanese Coastlines Through a Contax Lens

These photos capture landscapes Lyan shot during her trip to Japan ten years ago, only to be rediscovered now on my hard drive. I’ve carefully arranged them on my blog, like tending to a borrowed poetry collection. Lyan’s lens carries a stillness that recalls Haruki Murakami’s Norwegian Wood—beneath those calm frames, quiet emotions linger. I tracked down Lyan and, with her permission, share these photos here.

Through the Contax TVS, the coastline twists like a haiku. Distant birds sweep by, their wings cutting through the dusk, leaving soft marks on the film. I’d wager they were startled by a cheeky cat, scattering with the sea breeze clinging to them.

Lyan had a gift for leaving just the right amount of space in her shots. She’d freeze the waves at the frame’s edge, letting the birds’ paths trail off into the imagination. It brings to mind Junichiro Tanizaki’s Kyoto gardens—those purposeful empty spaces, designed to hold a wealth of quiet thoughts.

The photo that stops me cold is the one where sea and sky melt into a single gray-blue expanse. The horizon blurs, much like the edges of memory. The Contax casts a cool tone, yet there’s warmth hiding in the shadows. I can almost see Lyan on the shore, her skirt lifted by the wind, intently adjusting the aperture, poised for that perfect moment.

It’s late now, and I close my laptop. Moonlight spills across my desk, echoing the coasts in those photos. By the way, the Contax TVS is a fantastic travel companion.