85mm, in 1.3 crop mode

On our recent trip to Washington DC, I took my new D7100 (of course) and two lenses: Nikon 85mm f/1.8 and Nikon 28mm f/1.8. I have enjoyed both lenses, and decided to carry these two rather than take the Tamron 18-270 that I took on our Europe trip in 2011. There are a couple of reasons I made that decision: the primes are much better optically than the super-zoom; and during a recent portrait session the Tamron decided to not focus at all (it sounded like a gear was slipping). I’ve played with the Tamron since, and it seems to be working, but I trust it less now. While I procrastinate on sending it in for warranty repair, the two primes got to travel.

28mm, using fake miniature enhancement in camera

One thing I noticed during our trip is that I didn’t see any other DSLR camera-owner changing lenses. And DSLRs were thick among the tourists. It occurred to me why that is: changing lenses in the middle of a crowded museum is a pain in the butt. I know. Duh. So although I liked having the improved quality of the primes, I definitely felt the inconvenience of changing lenses. In fact, on day two of our trip, I decided to leave the 85mm in the hotel room so that I could travel light: camera and lens on a black-rapid strap. No camera bag. Nothing extra.

Panda in the distance, 85mm. Not cropped.

On day three, we went to the zoo, and I knew I’d want the extra reach of the 85mm to have any hope of getting a decent picture of an animal. On day four, I carried both lenses again, but used the 28mm almost exclusively.

Even the 28mm wasn’t always wide enough.

Out side of the zoo trip, where the longer reach was definitely needed, I found that I really liked the wider perspective of the 28mm. For the story of our trip, and the photos I wanted to capture, context was important. And the 85mm, although great for portraits and details, doesn’t do much for context.

As you might guess, I used the D7100 extensively on our recent trip to Washington DC. Here are the things I learned.

• Spot metering has gotten more accurate, almost too accurate. With my D5000, I could put a focus point on someone’s face, and the spot metering would be perfect. With the D7100, it seems I have to be careful to put the focus point in just the right place on the persons face, otherwise it might pick up too much shadow, and over-expose to much of the scene (or the converse, pick up too much light, and under expose the scene).
• Matrix metering has been greatly improved. There may be other ways to compensate, but when presented with spot metering challenges, I quickly changed to matrix metering, and I was almost never disappointed. The only time matrix metering didn’t give me the result I wanted was when I was trying to meter for the sky near the sun, forcing the rest of the image to go dark. That kind of shot really required (as expected) spot metering. Otherwise, matrix seemed to work really well in a wide variety of situations.
• Battery life is great if image review is turned off. 4 day trip: 880 photos (very few with flash) and a couple of minutes of video, and I still have two ticks left on the battery meter. Everything I saw indicated that battery life would be adequate, but not amazing due to the sensor density.
• The RAW files are immense, so for vacation photos, I just shot in JPEG normal, and the auto white balance was nearly always perfect. Impressively so.
• I’ve got the JPG output set to “standard” in terms of post-processing (rather than vivid or monochrome), and it seems to output very realistic images. In lightroom, I’m almost always adding sharpness and saturation. I may add something like that as a default input in Lightroom on import.
• Autofocus is very good. The only shots that I discarded due to focus problems were my own mistake, not the cameras.

Playing with the “miniature” enhancement. This is straight out of camera.

Overall, the camera behaves just like I would expect–is very fast, and makes great images.

My family and I recently took a short trip to Washington, DC, and we had a great time. It all went well, except for my son’s mild cold, and my wife’s more serious cold at the end of the trip.

DC, Day 1

(full set of pics)

While we were on the metro, this gentleman was preaching…. um, something. The words were English, but the syntax was…. different. I asked him if I could take his picture, and his response was “if it will help you.” The situation then changed dramatically when a second odd-ball got right up in this guys face, attempting to debate him. Again, words were English. Meaning was open to interpretation.

Seems everyone has to do something with the monument. Emily poked fun at them all with her completely wrong pose.

And speaking of a completely wrong pose.

This meta is so complex, I’m not quite sure how to categorize it. He’s painting a replica. She’s taking a photo, thereby creating a replica. I’m shooting them all.

DC, Day 2

(full set of pics)

I guess there’s a special place in my heart for street musicians. They’re out there doing what they love, adding a certain bit of artistry to the air, and hoping for a bit of appreciation. Anne and I chatted with this gentleman a bit about his soprano sax. As we walked away, he started playing the opening credits/theme song for Monsters Inc.

At the new MLK memorial (which is gorgeous and amazing), getting fauxto bombed by a park ranger.

We wandered just a little bit through DC’s Chinatown this evening. I’m pretty sure I could spend an entire day shooting in this neighborhood. I love this shot because the roast duck seems to be fighting back to the very end.

DC, Day 3 (at the National Zoo)

(full set of pics)

Seeing in the dark. This wolf was darned near invisible to the naked eye, adjusted to the overcast day. A little bit of spot metering, and some fast glass brought him out of the darkness (for those who care: f/2.2, ISO 800, 1/200s)

While we’ve been in DC, the opportunities for meta-photography have been, quite literally, at every turn. To the pundits who think stand-alone cameras are dying because of the camera phone, I say “Bah”. Of the six visible cameras in this shot, only one is a cell phone.

Because of the constant presence of people taking pictures, I had to limit myself to truly interesting meta photos. Mostly, I was trying to find multiple-meta photos–where I could frame two or more people actively using cameras. This opportunity was just too cute to pass up, since this meercat seemed to be posing for the pic.

As I was talking about some of the photos of the day with my wife, I realized that several of my animal pictures have a distinctly portrait-like quality. For example, I took 24 frames of this golden-lion tamarin. The ONE I pick as the best is this one, where he seems to be addressing the camera directly. With a clean background. And decent light.

Here’s another example of an animal portrait that I made today, but didn’t realize I was doing at the time. The orangutan was sitting only inches from my daughter, seeming to present her with regurgitated food while she ate cotton candy. It really was a cute interaction. I was feverishly attempting to capture the interaction, when he turned his head just a little bit, completely changing how the light struck his face. Snap. I knew I loved it the moment I pressed the shutter release.

DC, Day 4

(full set of pics)

I spent 0 time seeking out multi-meta photos today. Really, I was a little tired of thinking of meta-photography. It has been everywhere. But when this school group walked into the library of congress and all of them (it seemed) lifted their arms up at once to take pictures, I just couldn’t resist.

I really had no idea what I was getting into with the library of congress. I just thought it was a fancy library. Uh, no. Our tour guide mentioned the Paris Opera house’s influence several times, with strong details from Italian renaissance architecture. It was jaw-dropping gorgeous. At. Every. Turn. This photo captures some of the elements that were everywhere. And all the paintings and sculptures had significance.

Up these stairs, you get to see the main reading room from a distance. It is gorgeous, but no photography was allowed. Want the ultimate book-nerd tour? Get a reader identification card from the building next door (from their description, it sounds like it takes just a few minutes) then you get access to go inside the main reading room. Then you can smile at all the tourists and school children as you breath air filtered by angel wings, sit on chairs covered in unicorn fur, and leaf through Guttenberg’s mistress’ private diary, learning how he got the idea to call it a “press”. That would be way better than doing meta-photography in the atrium.

We recently saw the Kodo Drummers–it was a Christmas gift for the family, so we splurged on great seats. It was a wonderful performance, though the segment where they wailed on the big drum went on just a bit too long. I’m sure my perspective on the duration is tainted by the fact that the drummers were wearing sumo-wrestler style attire–call it a thick g-string–and nothing else. For American sensibilities, it was just a bit too much man-ass. Yes, I get that it is a cultural experience and all, but still.

Anyway, the attire of the drummers really isn’t the subject of this post. The subject is the common prohibition of photography. I’ve ranted about the before, and I still think event promoters are incredibly short-sighted in declaring that photography is 100% verboten. Allow me to demonstrate just how different the world is right now from what it was just a few years ago. Perhaps you’ve seen this picture:

This is a comparison between 2005 and 2013 papal introductions, and the difference is striking. Today, EVERYONE has a camera with them, all the time. And people LOVE to take pictures of the things that are important to them, and share those pictures with everyone they know.

Clearly, this kind of scene would be distracting at a performance like the Kodo Drummers. So I’m not arguing that people should be allowed to take pictures in any way they want. I’m suggesting that rather than having an announcement (and prominent signs) saying “Photography is not allowed” and “Cameras Prohibited” (which they didn’t attempt to enforce on cell phone holders), they should say something like “There will be an opportunity to take pictures at the end of the performance. As a courtesy to the performers and other audience members, please do not take pictures until that time.” Then, during the bows and the encore, let people take pictures, encourage it, and even suggest hash-tags. Then it won’t be a big deal what kind of camera someone uses, because EVERYONE will be taking pictures.

Yes, I broke all the rules by taking the picture that leads this post. But because I was doing it surreptitiously, with my phone, I got just one or two frames, and the result is pretty crappy. On the other hand, one of my coworkers, to whom I had attempted to describe the performance before we went, told me that he really appreciated this picture because it helped him understand what I was talking about.  Considering that the theater was only about 70% capacity, wouldn’t it be a good idea to have your audience do as much marketing as possible?

But, no. The prohibitions and policies are stuck in 2005 where “camera” was understood to be a stand-alone device, and few people carried one everywhere. Today is very different, and event promoters are foolish to ignore that difference.

“Vegetables, prepare to be roasted!”

This isn’t a comparison of the Nikon D7100 and the Fujifilm x100s. Its more like a diary of my camera coveting. And if you stick with me long enough, I’ll even make references to the UK car show Top Gear….

After I returned the Fujifilm XE-1, I promised myself I would wait until the next itteration of Nikon DX consumer-grade camera. I was really interested in the D7000, which would be a significant improvement over my D5000, but all the rumors sites were indicating that a refresh/upgrade was near. Those rumors turned out to be true, the D7100 was released, and I picked one up at Midwest the first day they could sell them.

“Get that camera away from me!”

And let me just say, it is an incredible camera so far. Crisp, full of great options, easy to control, and just bigger enough that it feels good in my hand, whereas the D5000 was just a touch small. I like it. I like it a lot.

All the while that I’ve been anticipating and waiting for the D7100, Fujifilm annnounced an update to its much heralded x100: the x100s. To be clear, its a very different camera from the D7100, and for people who are not completetly immersed in the world of photography, it may be hard to understand. Let me try to use a car metaphor to help.

“Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap!”

The Nikon D5000 is kinda like the a base model Camry of cameras. Perfectly functional. Reliable. Predictable. Comes in every color you want, as long as you want black. (Have you ever seen a brightly painted Camry?) It works well, and gets the job of carting you and your stuff around town done. And for me, the D7100 was like going from a Camry SE to a loaded Avalon. Nice upgrades. Leather. Blue-tooth integration to the stereo. Heated seats. Very nice. But ultimately, roughly equivalent at getting the job done.

Now, imagine, if you will, I’m waiting for Toyota to release their 2014 Avalons before I make the jump. Before I can head over to the dealer, Top Gear lets The Stig test drive a pre-production version of the latest Mini Cooper. The show even breaks with tradition, and does an interview with The Stig (appropriately hiding his identity) and he gushes on and on about the Cooper. No, it isn’t a freaking race-car. Not meant to be. Not priced like one. But it is amazing, and seems to have a soul–has even inspired the Stig to go on Sunday drives in the Cooper, just because. It has rekindled in him a love of driving.

Two weeks later, The Stig buys the first production Mini Cooper for that model. The. First. One. Yes, he put his money where his mouth is. That wasn’t just show biz. He really freaking loves it. And now, his high end sports cars sit in the garage when he goes out for a night on the town. He takes the Mini Cooper.

The Mini Cooper, is, you might have guessed, the Fujifilm x100s. And The Stig is a combination of two of my photography-man-crushes, David Hobby and Zack Arias. They work with the top of the line photography gear, and they both LOVE the x100s. The Perfect Camera, they’ve both said.

The biggest limitation of the x100s is kinda like a Mini Cooper without air conditioning. The x100s doesn’t have interchangeable lenses. Now that comes with some highly technical advantages, but it definitely limits the flexibility of shooting situations that the camera is ideally suited for. And like a car with no AC (in today’s society) it will still get the job done, but it might not be ideal in many situations.

On the other hand, my new D7100 is really good at a lot of photographic tasks, and is close to the cutting edge of ‘consumer’ grade cameras. Yes, I could get a better camera, but I’d have to spend two or three times as much. The x100s is priced comparably  to the D7100, but is more limited in its capabilities, despite having “soul”.

So, as I do so frequently in my life, I’ve chosen the middle of the road, the gray sedan, the camera that people expect of someone of my stature (snort!). Maybe the x100s will be my next acquisition and can be my ‘take everywhere’ and ‘for the love of it’ camera.

(Yes, these pictures were all taken with my new D7100).

I had one of those experiences just a couple of days ago. I was flying through the air, not a care in the world, looking down on houses and trees and roads and people. I was perfectly calm, relaxed even, as my vision was consumed by the moving landscape, and I watched the ground whizzing by.

Was this a dream or meditative moment? Nope. You might have guessed already–I was on an airplane. Yes, it was one of those modern, yet entirely mundane moments when we were approaching the airport, and the plane banked pretty steeply such that the only thing I could see out my window was the ground, and the suburban neighborhood (with depressed home prices because of the flight paths, I’m sure) that covered it. The amateur physicist in me wondered what angle we banking, and how hard the pilot must be pulling into the bank so that we felt more connected to our seats than our arm-rests, despite the enormous pull of gravity to our right.

And it suddenly occurred to me, that without the technology and amazing engineering surrounding me, and the web of professionals guiding that technology, a human body flying at 300+ miles per hour at 5000 feet above the ground would be so terrifying as to be unbearable. To say that’s what nightmares are made of is putting too thin a cliche on it. Without that technology and the skilled professionals guiding it, death would surely be just moments away for a human body in that situation.

But there we were. Calm. Relaxed. Reading, even. And how many people made that all possible? From the pilots and flight crew, to the air traffic control, to the FAA regulating maintenance and safety standards, to the engineers, scientist, computer programmers, chemists, and dozens more professions encompassing thousands of people that are required to bring an airplane from design to lift-off. Why is it safe? Because all of those people valued human life. Safety of the passengers and crew has been the utmost of design principles. There are failsafe systems everywhere you look. The planes could even fly with one engine and no pilot. On every flight, every person is instructed to buckle their seat belt–and the plane will not take off until every passenger has. (When was the last time you buckled your seat belt in the shuttle from the parking lot to the terminal?) Any time anyone dies while in this endeavor, an intensive investigation helps to find the root cause and find ways to prevent it from ever, EVER happening again.

We do this, as a society, because we value human life. We support the idea that people who are alive should be provided the utmost opportunity to stay alive. And we’ve demonstrated through years of improving safety standards in air travel that not only do we care, but we demonstrate that caring through positive action that actually has results.

That, my friends is a transcendent experience–that my life has been entrusted to thousands who took that trust very seriously, and I lived to tell the mundane tale.

28mm, f/1.8, 1/40s, ISO1600

Its kinda sad to think that I’m going to get rid of my Jive 35 (35mm f/1.8). It has served me well, but Nikon put their much acclaimed 28mm f/1.8 on sale just at a time when I had some photo-money burning a hole in my pocket. I read a number of reviews, and everything has said that the 28 is just remarkably crisp. Plus, I’ve frequently wished that the Jive 35 was just a bit wider. So the Jive 35 is going to be sold, assuming the 28 is everything its cracked up to be.

And speaking of photo-money, hole burning, and discounts, the Nikon 85mm f/1.8 was also calling my name. Again, it got stellar reviews, and I took the plunge, with an eye toward replacing my Tamron 60mm f/2–which is beautiful when it focuses, but frustrating when it won’t.

Therefore, in the course of about a week, my photo wallet got a good bit lighter, I had two new lenses, and my favorite band from West Virginia rolled into town for a quick set at a local bar. Yes, fine. I only know one band from West Virginia, but if you get a chance to see these guys perform, you should.

Leading the post, a 28mm shot from pretty close to the stage. The 28mm was just wide enough to compose the shot I wanted–both musicians completely in the frame.

28mm, f/1.8, 1/50s, ISO1600

Above, another shot from pretty close to the stage, at 28mm, just barely able to get him all in, foot to fingers.

I found the 28mm focal length easy to work with in that kind of performance, in a small venue. I could easily move through the crowd, and compose my shot.

The 85mm, on the other hand, was just a bit tougher because it felt too close. Uncomfortably close. I would have made head-and-shoulders shots with nothing but the neck of the guitar if I was closer than 15 feet way. I had to stand a fair bit off to the side to get a shot like this.

85mm, f/1.8, 1/25s, ISO1600

Hard to get, but I think its my favorite of the set.

Finally, I was a couple of rows back, composing my shot between peoples’ heads.

85mm, f/1.8, 1/50s, ISO1600

So the 85 has the kind of reach that is nice in a bigger venue, or for focusing on the faces of singers and other front-line players.

The best part was both lens’ ability to focus (when it could be reasonably expected: the guitar player can be a freaking tornado on stage). These lenses were quick and crisp. Very nice.

My only complaint? Um, I don’t have one. So far, I love both of them. The only thing I’ll miss about the Jive 35 is its size. Its a compact lens, and the 28 is about twice as big. And although the 85 gets closer than my Tamron 60mm, the focus consistency was remarkable. The only thing keeping the 60mm in my bag at this point is its macro ability.

This February I had the opportunity to spend some time in an aspect of the music industry that I’ve never experienced. One of the bands that I’ve seen (and shot) a few times, Kingsblood, announced that they would be spending some time in a local recording studio, and I asked if it would be OK for me to hang out with them (full set of pictures).

I really had no idea what to expect, and fortunately the sound engineer, Rob, was very easy to get along with, telling me where I could go (pretty much anywhere) and when (not in the same room as microphones while they were recording). This seemed like a “duh” point to me, but he confirmed that many people just don’t seem to get that point.

I was darn near mesmerized by the sound board–the rows of buttons, knobs, and lights had me wishing I could just hang out with Rob to learn some small part of his craft. Alas, the only knob I learned (through observation, since I didn’t want to interrupt Rob’s work) was the monitor volume so that non-performers could hear what was going on.

The first session was dedicated to recording drums and bass. I spent a bit of time hanging out with the guys, mostly observing, trying to stay out of the way, and quickly learned that this was a very cool and important experience for them too. There was almost always someone taking pictures or video with their phone. The meta bug bit me hard.

As I sized up the studio, I had realized that I would have a very difficult situation on my hands, photographically. The drummer would be recording in a room that I couldn’t be in, separated by glass, that would drive me completely crazy if I tried to use flash through the glass. Instead, I set up a single light stand to one side of the room, out of view. With a wireless flash in the room, I could then capture images that would include both the drummer, and the rest of the crew.

I departed before the bass player did his recording (they evidently didn’t finish until 4AM) but I did spend some time watching him restring his bass.

Session two consisted of recording the guitar players, and at first I didn’t quite get the setup. The musician was sitting in the same room as everyone else, plugged into their pedals, then with something transmitting the signal to an isolation booth, where the amps pumped out the sound where mics were arrayed to pick it all up.

So that made for some great photos because I could be right with the musicians, and watch them hamming it up with everybody.

Of course, the meta moments continued.

This seemed like an ideal way to do the recording–performing among the rest of the band, a mini audience jamming to your performance. Not exactly like a real show, but definitely more inclusive feeling than drums or vocals.

Photographically, this was the easiest day of all. Despite being dark, I could set up a pair of light stands in one corner of the studio: I bounced one flash into a neutral color wall, and the other went directly into the room. That helped me get decent light on faces, as well as filling in the rest of the room with a gentle glow.

The third session was reserved for vocals.

Photographically, it was almost impossible to get decent shots–the isolation booth has a glass door, but the singer was standing behind a large shield, designed, I assume to prevent echos bouncing back to the microphone.

They let me step into the booth during ‘scratch’ recording, which, best as I can tell, was a kind of rough draft to eliminated later by better quality recordings.

From my limited time with the band, this was the most stressful time of recording. I think they were all getting a little studio fatigue, and were still working out the kinks of new song lyrics. Alex, the lead vocalist, spent 40 minutes on the first line alone. There were many times that he heard something in a recording that he didn’t like, but I couldn’t, for the life of me, hear the issue. I also felt a bit of loneliness for Alex–all alone in the isolation booth, and he couldn’t even see the rest of the band. It was just him, his demons, and the microphone.

But he endured, despite moments of frustration and a bit of exasperation, until he and the band got the recordings they wanted.

Which brings me to the largest lesson of my time with Kingsblood. They spent 12 hours in the studio to record two songs, and anticipated spending another 3-4 mixing and mastering them. It will cost them (or their label) over $500 in studio rental just to record two songs. And I’m pretty sure the sound engineer gave them his time. As did the photographer.

I knew that musicians put a lot of time into creating and honing their art. I had no idea the craft of capturing that art could be that time consuming in the day of digital. I figured they would set up in a studio just like performing in a bar. Play the song through two or three times, and call it done. OK, not really. But still…

So the next time a band asks for $5 for their EP, realize that they’ve made the mistake of asking way too little. Those five bucks might cover the production costs, if they sell enough. But it does nothing to compensate them for the art they’ve created, nor give them much incentive to create more. Give them ten bucks, and it will make their day. Give them twenty (you can afford it, right? You spent that much on beer and nachos…) and you’ll be their favorite fan ever. Besides, that money will help keep these guys off the streets.

And last, bands/musicians/performance artists: get yourself a device that will take credit cards. They’re easy and cheap, and will end the excuses that people would ‘love to buy a cd’ but they just don’t have the cash.

Today was my first time ever at Ohayocon, well, sort of. I went to check in on my daughter, who has been completely obsessed with the convention for a while, and of course, I took my camera. Above, the scene in the convention center, that was not atypical for my time there. It was a constant crush of people, most of whom were in costume. To say that it was a target rich environment would be putting it mildly. And for someone as obsessed with meta-photography as I am, it was just over the top. People were clearly dressed up to be seen and appreciated. Everyone was getting stopped for pictures. And the people wearing the better-done costumes were getting stopped constantly. I took a few pictures of people taking pictures, but that wasn’t really my main point in going.

My primary plan, in the 60 minutes I allotted for myself, was to find a location to shoot some quick portraits. My ideal location would be a) near a flow of traffic, b) be somewhat out of the way so that I didn’t obstruct anything, and c) have a blank wall as a background. I found my ideal spot, set my camera, and started taking pictures.

Chris, above, was absolutely tickled when I asked him if I could take his picture. I think people had probably passed him by, afraid of how to interact with someone with special needs. I had a great time talking to him, and making a nice portrait for him. His friend has my business card, and I really hope he sends me a message so I can give him this shot.

I’m not sure if this guy was in costume (I think so), but when he came up to me to chat briefly about photography, I couldn’t resist getting a shot.

At one point, some people had noticed me working with subjects, and they started coming up to me, asking if I would take their picture. This young woman had walked by me as I worked with another convention-goer, circled back, and asked me to take a picture. “I noticed that you actually have lighting, which most con-photographers don’t have.” Yeah, that’s me, taking myself just a little too seriously.

And then, my taking-myself-too-seriously came to an end. An older gentleman, not in costume, approached me with an authoritative “You can’t do that.” Uh, what? “You can’t use professional lights. That’s against the convention rules.” I tried, briefly, to make a case that I wasn’t using professional lights (whatever those are), but he insisted that I could not use off-camera flash (though he didn’t use those words exactly). I hadn’t read any attendance rules before going, so I didn’t have a leg to stand on.

Now, I’ve read the Ohayocon rules. Fascinating: no mention of photography at all. OK, perhaps, as my wife mentioned, it was a convention center rool. Interesting possibility…

In order to provide a safe, secure, and enjoyable environment for all of our guests, we ask that the following code of conduct is followed at all times. Violators will be asked to leave the building.
The following are prohibited on Convention Center property:

[long list of stuff that generally makes sense]

*The unauthorized distribution of literature, offering items for sale, soliciting guests, conducting surveys, videotaping, or photography

So videotaping and photography (in general) are lumped in with other forms of solicitation. And did I mention that EVERYONE was taking pictures of EVERYONE? Of course, photography isn’t prohibited–there’s NO FREAKING WAY to enforce that.

And that’s not what I was told I was doing wrong, anyway. It wasn’t the fact that I was using a DSLR camera–it was that I was using wireless flash, and that I had a flash on a light-stand. I was specifically told that I could keep taking pictures, but no flash-on-a-light-stand.

Right. Rules. I don’t really mind following them. But they gotta be made public.

And here’s a hint for organizers of events like this–enforcing a ‘professional lights’ prohibition is terribly murky. How about ‘no tripods’, because those could actually get in the way of traffic and accidentally injure someone. I would have still been in violation, but the reasons would make a lot more sense, and would have been much clearer.

He played his heart out for 45 minutes, and was barely noticed by the morning commuters. You can read the full article, and even see a time lapse of his time in the station here. I strongly recommend reading the article–it’s fascinating.

The thesis of the article comes two thirds of the way through:

If we can’t take the time out of our lives to stay a moment and listen to one of the best musicians on Earth play some of the best music ever written; if the surge of modern life so overpowers us that we are deaf and blind to something like that — then what else are we missing?

We’re too busy, evidently, to recognize beauty, pure artistry, even when it smacks us upside the head.

The problem is that the deck was stacked against the commuters, and the perpetrators of the experiment clearly thought that the lack of artistic context could be overridden by the pure beauty.

First the deck stacked against the commuters:

• Joshua Bell was wearing street clothes and a baseball hat. However, very few people have ever seen him perform like that. In fact, the article even talks about how he makes use of his mop in performances. Donning a hat negates the impact his full-body movement has on the visualization of his performance. And dressed in jeans, as opposed to his normal performance attire, means he might as well have been in disguise.
• Just the fact that it was Joshua Bell means lower name and face recognition than other super-star performers. I’ve seen Bell in concert, and prior to writing this article, I had no memory of what he looked like. I’ve seen Yo Yo Ma on TV recently enough that I might be able to at least wonder if a scruffy looking cellist might be Da Ma incognito. Have Adam Levine sing and play guitar sitting on an apple box, and you’re gonna have mayhem.
• The songs he performed were, according to the article, technically masterpieces. But beauty that is so rarefied that it is only recognized by those educated in its intricacies can be tough for a lay-person to recognize. Bach’s Chaconne, Schubert’s Ave Maria, Manuel Ponce’s Estrellita, something by Jules Massenet, and another, title-not-mentioned piece by Back. I’m no classical music neophyte, but I’m no expert either, and I recognize only Ave Maria, primarily because my wife loves Christmas music, and that song is included in most classical compilations. The other pieces? Well lets just say, we’re all sluts for a cover song. We’re drawn to that which we recognize. Bell probably would have drawn a freaking mob had he played Devil Went Down to Georgia.
• I understand why he played in a subway station: lots of people streaming by, and it isn’t uncommon for musicians to perform in spaces like that, hoping for a few bucks. But during the morning rush, who allows time to stop for a little beauty on their way to work? In the early parts of the video, some people were in the same room as Bell for no more than two or three notes. Could they have been expected to recognize the greatness in that brief moment? And even if someone figured it out–”Holy shit! I think that was Joshua Bell”–30 seconds later, they’re probably already on their subway train. I think he would have drawn crowds in a high-traffic but more leisurely space, like at one of the DC monument parks–how amazing would it have been to have heard him playing Barber’s Adagio for Strings at the Vietnam War memorial? A crowd of people in tears would have surrounded him, hugged him, cried with him.
• The population that knows that Bell is amazing is predominantly elderly (even the article acknowledges that concert goers are mostly silver-haired) and most likely retired. The population going through the subway during rush hour is definitely not retired, and probably has a median age two or three decades below the typical Bell concert. It would be like having Phil Collins walk through a middle school–he would look like just another parent in that land of confusion.

Finally, context means a great deal to us a humans. There’s a ton of psychological research that talks about anchoring and trusting authority. Put a good violin student on stage with a mop of dark hair, and a flair for body movements, and I’ll bet 80% of the people paying $100 for seats wouldn’t know that it wasn’t Bell on stage.
To ignore context is to completely misunderstand human nature. Slatkin couldn’t predict what would happen at Bell’s performance because he wasn’t familiar with the context of the performance in a subway.

Of course, I have the benefit of hindsight, but it seems to me that getting one person in a thousand to acknowledge that they recognized Bell (an important point–others might have recognized but not have had the time or desire to hang around) isn’t too bad. Given how much the deck was stacked toward Bell remaining anonymous, and how removed from context he was, I would say $52 is a pretty decent haul for a street performer in 45 minutes.