Kodaks’ WWII rangefinder goodness

I go back and forth on this camera, the Kodak Medalist II. Often, I find myself in awe of its built-like-a-tank construction: all aluminum, brass, and chrome. That wonderfully oddball double-helical focusing mount, with a very sharp 100mm f3.5 Ektar on its end – it’s all good. And how about those massive strap lugs? – this was Made in the USA at its best.
And it’s a medium format rangefinder – which in itself makes it a very special thing.
Yet, there’s something not quite right about the Medalist. First off, it takes type 620 film, which is long gone from dealer shelves. You can make your own by re-winding 120 film back onto a salvaged 620 spool. It’s the same film and backing paper, but the 620 spool is skinnier. This is likely why 620 wasn’t embraced by the professional community. The film was wound tighter and curled a bit more than in the 120 equivalent.
I would hazard a guess that the Kodak Medalist was the most sophisticated camera to ever use 620. Nearly all other 620 cameras were of the snapshot Brownie type. Let me know if you have seen any other precision camera using 620.
I can also quibble about the Medalist’s viewfinder being too small to be taken seriously by a working pro.
The whole camera has an air of being made to fit a military proposal – someone wanted a precision camera, rugged (ie, no bellows), accurate focus, eyelevel finder, big negative, sharp lens, and it must be as compact as possible. So we end up with a heavy (1350 grams with film), dense camera, that’s about as easy to hold onto as a snow globe.
Still, it’s an awesome piece of equipment, all the same. Showing it to anyone who has never seen anything like it before never fails to impress.
The original Medalist was made from 1941 to about 1946 – no doubt due to the lack of European cameras in the WW2 period. Kodak apparently stepped up to produce a serious camera for the “duration”. It still has some beauty to it though.
The one I have here is a Medalist II, which was made from ‘46 to ‘53, and in addition to a couple of minor updates, it apparently had better lens coatings, and a bayonet socket for flash syncronization. The lens code suggests it was made in 1946. I have the original case for it, as well as a set of Series VI filters and a hood. What’s not to love?
Incidentally, there was no Medalist III, as Kodak brought out a simpler, cheaper, and short-lived Chevron model in ‘53. No doubt that European and even Japanese cameras were back on the US market spelled the end of the Medalist program.
So I dug out a couple of rolls of Verichrome 120 film (what better emulsion to use in a vintage piece like this), and re-wound it onto some 620 spools. A murky November Monday saw me head out to give this piece a whirl. I brought along an original Weston Master meter from my collection – which is correct for the period.
The negs developed up perfectly, and I offer you a sampling of the shots I got, despite the clouds and rain.
If the Medalist was the only medium format camera I had, it would probably see more use. But having to re-spool film, and struggle with its odd ergonomics don’t put it at the top of the list. Still, the Medalist owner can be proud of having what was an awesome piece of machined metal and top-grade American optics for its time (don’t forget that Ektar lenses were used on the first Hasselblads in the late ‘50s). The fact that this complicated camera still works almost perfectly after 55 years is proof enough.

Kawarthas… in Ortho. Part 2

So I finally get all the 4×5 film developed from my August trip to the Kawarthas – then I discover that some spots from drying were messing up my attempts to scan them for proofing. Unfortunately, it took some weeks to find the time to re-wash the offending negatives and get back to the scanner.
In all, the decision to take the old Busch Pressman on vacation (instead of something easier) was a good one. Given that a 4×5 camera loaded with super slow (ei 12 rated) film demands a landscape with still morning air, I found myself setting the alarm for the pre-dawn hour, and sneaking off down the back roads with the wife’s minivan in search of the best locations, and the best light. I’d be back in time to make coffee before the rest of the crew were awake.
My eight-year old son joined me one morning, and happily snapped away with his compact digital while I fussed with the 4×5.

90mm 30sec @f22 polarizer

90mm 8sec @f22

90mm 1/2sec @f22 Yellow K2

90mm 3sec @f22

210mm 1sec @ F22

210mm 1/8 @F22 Yellow K2

The Kawarthas are certainly prone to moody weather in the late summer, and that suited me fine. The Rollei Ortho 25 film worked wonderfully at holding sky detail while not letting the pine forests turn to dark mush. Depending on the light, my notes show exposures ran from 30 seconds on up to about 1/8th in bright light. I made good use of the yellow and polarizer filters. Yes, you can polarize black and white, for much of the same reasons you polarize colour – so why don’t we do it more often. I tried each filter on a pond that caught my eye, and sure enough, the polarizer brought more drama to the party.
The attached gallery images are not from prints (I haven’t got that far yet), but are from Epson V700 scans. But I scanned each neg twice, emphasizing shadow detail, and sky detail. I then merged the pairs using Photoshop’s HDR type utility. A few negatives seem to have benefitted from this process, and it will be interesting to see if I can do as well or better when the negs get to the enlarger.
As I said before, the decision to use a 4×5 camera for this year’s trip changed everything. Because of the very fact the camera is big, slow, and predisposed for careful landscape photography, it energized me to make the time, and take the time, to do it justice. Big film is expensive, but not only that, knowing you are only going to be taking a few exposures (I think I shot 24 sheets, the whole trip), you want to make them count.
And, of course, unlike digital images that are all too easily filed away and forgotten on the hard drive. The 4×5 negs need more care and feeding before they are satisfied. Good job I have a few boxes of 16×20 paper just looking for a trip under the enlarger.

Coolest japanese rangefinder?

When my dad called with a list of cameras he had spotted at a local yard sale, only one caught my interest. “There’s one old one in a brown leather case – a Taron I,” he had said. At least that’s what I thought he had said, but I told him to pick it up for me. At the least, I have a few customers who enjoy Japanese leaf-shutter rangefinders of that vintage. I hadn’t seen a Taron for a quite a while, and I didn’t ever recall seeing a model “I”. But when I finally saw the camera, I realized dad hadn’t meant the letter “I”, or even a roman numeral. This was a “Taron Eye”, as proudly emblazoned over its top cover – as in “electric eye”, which was the euphemism for a built-in electric exposure meter in those days.
Now, when I first got into photography, selenium meter cells were relegated to low-budget offerings on the market – like the Olympus Trip, or the Zenit E. This meant poor sensitivity in low light, and often these meters weren’t coupled. So when you got a light reading, you then had to transfer those settings to the shutter and aperture dials. But selenium cells were essentially weak solar cells, so at least you didn’t need a battery, ever.
But there was a time when selenium meters were cutting edge, had high and low light ranges (like the Weston Master series), and were built into the better cameras – like the Contax IIIa I let go earlier this year.
This Taron Eye came in around the very end of the era when selenium meters were king, likely made around 1960 or ‘61 – wow, fifty years ago. And it’s in really nice condition, on the outside. Inside… well, I spent hours and hours getting the rangefinder back into proper alignment, getting the geared cam around the lens sorted out and properly coupled to to the match-needle meter readout. And, oddly enough, the shutter worked nicely, but the aperture was jammed – just the opposite of what you see on vintage japanese rangefinders. I also had to replace the leatherette on the front, because the original stuff came off in bits when I had to remove the lens unit.
Still, it’s a handsome camera, in my opinion. I usually shy away from selenium meters, but I appreciate how the Taron people integrated this one into the overall design. That yellow-green window adds to the personality, and you’ve got to love the font used for the Taron logo. I think this camera would be right at home in the hands of a marionette on the Thunderbirds – a tv show that was big when I was small. If you’ve seen it, you probably know what I mean – 1960s futuristic.
You may have noticed I called the meter “match-needle”, and it is, believe it or not. Across the top of the finder, the meter needle goes from left to right with brightness, and you turn the aperture/shutter ring on the lens to chase the needle with a transparent red one to set exposure. Very cool, however it does take some getting used to that lens ring – to shift the shutter speed you have to max out the aperture ring, and click past it to get to the next speed – can’t say I’ve seen anything like it.
The test roll showed that the meter works well, from bright to dim light, and that 45mm f1.8 lens is sharp, with a pleasant quality to it. There is a bit of light falloff at the corners.
Vital stats include an ASA (ISO) range from 12 to 1600, shutter from 1s to 1/500, plus B, a self-timer, and PC sync for M and X. Build quality is very good for that era, and the only plastic parts on the camera appear to be the windows on the meter cell and frame counter – and that little red cellophane meter index.
Taron may rank among the semi-obscure brands of japanese leaf-shutter rangefinders (like Beauty, Aries, Petri, and many others), but this is a rather nice camera, and it’s probably quite rare to boot. Frankly, it’s way better than the Yashica Lynx I had some years ago. Taron also had what appears to be a sister camera, with a less expensive f2.8 lens, and no meter, called the “Unique”. Taron had a new-tech CDS meter camera in 1963 called the Marquis. A couple of years later the company disappeared, along with all those others who made leaf-shutter rangefinders as the 35mm market swerved towards SLRs.
Sexiest japanese rangefinder? Maybe, maybe not. But this Taron’s a keeper.

The Kawaortho project

Posted by Adrian.

Last summer, I visited the Kawartha region with what I hoped was enough camera equipment to have some real fun. Unfortunately, I came back feeling that the digital body I brought, and the 35mm black and white film came up short. Sure, I got some nice pics of songbirds visiting the cottage, and I was almost happy with the shots of windswept trees taken from the boat. But on the way home, I couldn’t help but wish I’d brought the Hasselblad.

So this month, I’m heading to the same place again – Eels Lake, actually. That’s almost at Bancroft, Ontario, an area just between the Kawartha and the Algonquin regions. A land of small, but quiet and deep lakes. But instead of medium format, I’m going straight to 4×5 large format, and I’m going to try and put to good use the last box of Rollei Ortho film in the store.

For those of us who aren’t old enough to remember a time before “panchromatic” film (and that’s most of us), “orthochromatic” was an improvement on early films in that it could “see” wavelengths beyond the violet, blue, and green, and right down into the yellow and orange end of the spectrum. However, it was blind to red light – which allowed those little red windows on the back of box cameras – and allowed developing under the red safelight in the darkroom. The downside is that red colours appear as darker tones in the black and white image than you think they should (Santa would be wearing a black suit, for instance).

But that lack of red sensitivity is what makes older landscape photos look uniquely different from our B&W efforts these days, despite what filtering we attempt. So Rollei, and a few others have offered from time to time, the quirky, and contrasty, ortho emulsions – for those of us who like to stray from the beaten path.

But I’m not heading north with a film I’ve never tried before, without making sure I know how it works. So, Saturday, I loaded up two sheets in a holder, and shot the church across the street from the store – our favourite test target – one shot at ISO 25, and the second at EI 12.

Trouble is, my favourite developer, HC-110, isn’t recommended by anyone, anywhere, for Ortho 25. So I dug out my remaining bottle of Rodinal, and developed both sheets at 1:50.  The results suggest EI 12 is the way to go, but there’s no denying this is a snappy film. I’ll have to try hard to make sure I don’t reduce the northern pine forests to dark mush.

The next step will be to pack the bag – Customized Busch Pressman (see related article), Schneider 210mm and 90mm lenses, Minolta IV meter, eight film holders, cable release. As for filters, I probably only need a yellow, and my polarizer. I have to start following my own advice and make better use of a polarizer for B&W work. The tripod will be the gorgeous wooden Berlebach 9043, with the Manfrotto 410 geared head. Aside from the tripod, it all fits in a surprisingly small bag. That’s the beauty of the Busch – it’s such a small package, despite the revolving back. Movements are limited, but who needs all that much in the woods anyway?

Photos here are of the scanned church negative, and a blowup of a detail showing that slow 4×5 film … well.

More to come…

Super Macro Morning

How easy is it to push the boundaries of macro photography? We decided to find out this Saturday morning with a small in-store workshop.

Anybody can buy an off the shelf macro lens and get great pictures of objects that are the size of coins or flowers – but what about pushing the limits into “micro” photography, when your subject matter is much smaller – smaller in fact than that sensor in your camera?

Just about any lens you care to use actually shrinks objects. Yup, even that monster 600mm telephoto doesn’t really “magnify” the world. Think about it, even if you photograph that eagle with your monster lens, it only ends up a few millimetres high on your sensor – smaller than it is in the real world.

Micro photography is defined as enlarging the real world to something bigger than it really is, at least on film or your sensor. Then, you can print that photo to really blow it up.

Trouble is, one questions how much photographic art there is in micro photography. Or is it just a scientific exercise into the world of the microscope.

So we thought we’d give it a shot. Getting sharp images isn’t easy. The tiniest vibration will blur available light shots, so we ended up shooting the best ones with flash. As for optics we fooled around with reversing traditional macro lenses, reversed enlarging lenses, and even a homebrew gadget using an 8mm movie camera lens reversed on an old body cap (which worked surprisingly well, given its modest cost and pretensions).

Here are some photos of our setup (we found a copy stand worked easier than a table top tripod at these high magnifications). And in case you’re wondering, that’s an ancient Leitz bellows (from a Visoflex) adapted to fit our Nikon.

Our micro photography setup

An old 8mm movie camera lens on a body cap

Petal detail

Maple leaf in autumn transition

A very small pinecone

One of those very tiny daisies

Next Photo Gathering: Butterfly hunt

Sunday July 4, 2010. 9:00 a.m.  Brunet Park, Lasalle

Join Adrian and I for a bug hunt.  Last year we found lots more to shoot besides butterflies, hopefully this year will provide more surprises.  Bring bug spray, suntan lotion and camera gear with the ability to focus close.  Tripods are encouraged.  For those of you that find macro shooting a new experience, we can show you the tips and tricks.  We’ll meet in the parking lot at 9:00 a.m.  See you there!

The new Nikon body cap mystery.

Okay, here’s a mystery for all you Nikon fans out there.

We sold out of our Nikon body caps a few days ago, and realized we had to get a few more in for those people who need replacements or spares.

We were told the BF-1a cap was no longer available. At first there was some confusion, but we were eventually able to discover it had been replaced by the BF-1b. So we got some in. No big deal.

However, conspiracy theory nuts we are, we can’t help wonder why a new version of a body cap.

If you remember, the BF-1a replaced the venerable BF-1 cap back in the 1980s when autofocus came along. Somewhere in your instruction manual there is a warning not to use a BF-1 cap on your camera, or risk crushing those electronic contacts. Other than the markings on the inside of the cap, they look identical.

If your camera was made at Nikon’s Thailand factory, it came with what looks like a BF-1a, but with no markings inside. Those with markings are still made in Japan.

Now, the new BF-1b comes along, and it doesn’t look identical to its predecessor. Maybe we’ll get used to it, but for now the jury is out on its cosmetics.

For the time being, the Thailand cameras still come with the BF-1a lookalike.

But the bigger question is – why the change? Maybe the old tooling wore out. Maybe someone thought the classic 1970s look was dated.

But what if… what if…

What if this new version of the body cap will be standard issue on a new generation of Nikons that will have a slightly different configuration of contacts. It’s hard to tell by just looking at the rear of the cap whether there’s any difference, but then again, you can’t tell the difference between a BF-1 and the BF-1a until you try to put the older one on a new camera.

Below, we have a photo of the new cap, with the older one in the background.

Whaddaya think???

World Pinhole Day Sunday April 25, 2010

The “Spamera” Photo By Chris Keeney

For several years on the last Sunday of April, lens-less camera geeks across the globe open shutter flaps, remove caps, or open the odd shutter, and while watching the second hand on their wristwatch, make lens-less pinhole camera images.  Whether you are using an old coffee can or a super fancy laser cut pinhole diaphragm, you can participate. If you take your images and then scan them they can be uploaded and added to the archives at www.pinholeday.org.  The only catch…the image must be made on the day and be made in a lensless camera, a pinhole camera.

Indeed, the camera from the previous post would qualify, as it is a lens less camera, but one does not need to go to the extreme shown there.

Some of the facinating features of a Pinhole camera:

• you can make a camera out of anything…and when I say anything, I mean it, including body parts, and in one case, an airplane hanger.
• depth of field and focus…forget them. by their nature Pinhole cameras have infinite depth of field.  In other words an object 1 millimeter and one 1 km will both be in “focus”.  Focus is determined mainly by the size of the opening, bigger hole, fuzzier image, shorter exposure time.  Smaller hole sharper image, longer exposure time.

You have roughly 2 days to find a suitable box, paper, and a way to poke a teeny weenie hole in it and go out and make pictures!

Have some fun, take some pictures, forget lcd’s batteries and program settings.

One of my Pinhole cameras:

Found on the Web: Art Camera Extreme

Recently at the store we have been pursuing what I classify as “Art Cameras, Lite”  We are using existing cameras and have been refurbishing them with interesting new materials and finishes, it has caught the interest of a few of our customers with one of our regulars, Theirry Martin, taking up the challenge himself.

Admitedly our “refurbs” are just a change of window dressing and details, and not built from scratch like the camera shown here.  I can appreciate the complexity and technical skill required to make a camera like the one shown here.  But I will say that none of us has tried anything as elaborate and…well down right scary.  This camera is simultaneously, moderately disgusting, and intriguing, and beautiful to behold.

Designed as a statement of medical stainless reality as much as technical manufacturing and artistic skill, the camera above uses human blood as a 25a red filter to photograph through.  If that wasn’t shocking enough, the artist has inserted HIV tainted blood to add meaning to his photographs.

Below is quoted from the artist website, Boy of Blue Industries:

“Untouchable (HIV Camera)”

“Designed to study and photograph a geographic comparison of people suffering from HIV.

4″x5″ camera made from Aluminium, Copper, Titanium, Acrylic and HIV positive blood. The blood pumps through the camera then in front of the pinhole and becomes my #25 red filter. Designed to shoot a geographic comparison of people suffering from HIV.”

::

Obviously its a shocking camera, meant to evoke very strong emotional response to its use and its resulting images.  I applaud this artists guile and skill at not only conceiving and building this camera, but to go out and doing a socio-anthropological photo project with it.  Not only are the photos from it haunting (see below), but the camera and the process of making the photos have a very important and oft overlooked message.

As photographers, we often wish to separate ourselves from the view we capture, to make us an unfettered and impartial observer to reality.  I have always felt this was an illusion.  Artists and Photographers, by their nature, are involved intimately with their subjects, whether they want to admit it or not.  Photographers “take” photographs.  Here is a rare instance where the artist is willing to literally endanger himself every time he photographs with his camera.  He has invoked what seems to be the visceral ghostly inferences of Francis Bacon to his images while using this rather dangerous camera.

As a “Camera Artist” and Photographer, his other creations are no less simultaneously intriguing and disturbing.  As promised here are a few images from his site from the camera seen above:

Found on the web: The impossible Project

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Images are from “The Impossible Project.com”

The Impossible Project. An apt name for an endeavor of this magnitude, and perceived insanity.  When Polaroid announced a few years ago that it was no longer making its venerable instant film there was momentary hew and out cry, but close to where the factory that made the film existed, a Die-hard fan decided to do the unthinkable.  He purchased the machinery and leased the factory and began to reverse engineer the film.  Now he is selling his wares online at his website  The-Impossible-Project.com.  As a former instant film nut, I find this project intriguing and exciting, I think I will be dusting off my Propacks and SX-70 cameras very soon

Here is the Press release from March 22:

“New York City, March 22, 2010. The Impossible Project started in October 2008 at the last preserved Polaroid plant in Enschede (The Netherlands) with the aim to
save analog Instant Photography from extinction; today it presented its significant result. After 17 months of research and development, The Impossible Project announced that it succeeded in its task of re-producing  a new analog Instant Film for traditional Polaroid cameras. Containing more than 30 newly developed components, Impossible today introduced a new, monochrome Instant Film – the PX 100 and PX 600 Silver Shade – and is therewith saving millions of perfectly functioning Polaroid cameras from becoming obsolete (as Polaroid discontinued its instant film production early in 2008).

Supported by Ilford Photo, UK (Harman Technology Limited) Impossible is carrying instant film production into the 21st century and proudly presents a new, artistic instant film material. It produces originals of outstanding, unique and never before seen characteristics, pushing analog Instant Photography beyond all traditional limits. Other than the highly standardized, traditional Polaroid film, the Impossible Films offer a new, broad range of possibilities, fresh characteristics and results. Celebrating the beginning of  a new era of Instant Photography, Impossible introduces its first two formats in a limited First Flush Edition (First Flush also denotes Premium Tea that is picked in the first season of the year, typically around March, and has a rich and fresh aroma). It will be available online at www.the-impossible-project.com from March 25 onwards, and thereafter also at selected premium retail partners all over the world. “

Check out the website, tell me what you think.

Trevor