Showing posts with label Pentax 67. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pentax 67. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 06, 2022

King Kong Vs. Godzilla

Oh boy folks, this is a strange one, in which yer Sheephouse discovers his brain is wired in a very strange way.

I know what you're thinking (and probably have been thinking for a while). 
You're thinking:

"Ee's never content, not 'im. 
That geezer has more sense than money, or should that be the other way around. 
'Ee's a Nutter!"

And why would I be thinking that you're thinking that?
Well . . I've been spending again.

Y'see, during some mad, drunken, lockdown thinking, I thought I'd take up something I had always wanted to do (and was I the only one? Erm NO!)

The thinking was:

Why not learn to Play The Banjo?

Bonkers I know, blame it on Flatt & Scruggs And The Foggy Mountain Boys and The Beverley Hillbillies,  but once the seed was planted I could not get over it.

Anyway, I sourced one (a lovely Deering Picking Earl if you want to know) and a new case too (which, when it arrived slightly damaged [the case, not the banjo] I was told to "just throw away". I didn't - I repaired it and it was fine).

However, try as I might (and even though I got not bad at it) I just couldn't get used to the difference in size between a guitar neck and a banjo neck - my hand hurt all the time and something had to give. 
Seeing as I have played guitar since 1974, it had to be the banjo - which was a great shame really.
The story has a happy end though - it is in a new, happy home playing Grunge/Bluegrass, so all is right with the world. 

Anyway, the money that had been tied up in that chunk of wood, skin and weird resonaterey stuff, has now been sunk into lots more film; a B60 Polariser; an A16 back for the Hasselblad; AND on a whim, a prism finder for the 'Blad too.


© Phil Rogers
Kong Or Godzilla - You Decide


After some extensive reading on prisms (oh the sheer excitement!) it was either a NC2 or a PM. 
I watched and waited as usual, but nothing decent was around, until, one day, I discovered a PM45 - the final iteration of the Hasselblad unmetered prism (with those seemingly important these days [go figure] two blue stripes.) 
"Oooooh!" I thought, and it was within the budget, so I bought it.

Now if you Google these you'll see there are sellers wanting over £500 for one. 
This is utter madness
Mine was considerably less than that, and that is probably their worth. 
They're beautifully made, certainly, but £500????!!!! 
I dunno, the world has gone to pot - everyone is so greedy, and in the case of accessories, deranged.

Anyway, it arrived.
Perfect condition, great optics and, when properly focussed on an Acute Matte, a surprisingly bright and cohesive image. 
And the "Right" way around too.
The only problem was, 

NOTHING LOOKED RIGHT!

It is true. 
Not a sausage.

I think decades of viewing square bɘƨɿɘvɘɿ images (as has been the case with Rollie, Mamiya, Minolta, Hasselblad [and don't forget a long time immersed in the reversed, upside down oblong of 5x4]) has wired my brain to view the world in that orientation.
Obviously this is not the case with general living, only when using a camera. 
Crickey - I'd be up a creek if that were so. 


© Phil Rogers
The Gates Of Delerium


© Phil Rogers
Not What It Actually Looks Like
   Simply Because The Rubber Bit Got In The Way
This Is Heavily Cropped, But The Right Way Round
                                          

Thinking about it weirdly (as usual) it probably defines why I never felt quite at home with the Pentax 67 or the Koni-Omega (right way prism view and rangefinder respectively) and, if truth be told, I still find life hard using a 35mm camera.
The latter I find quite a strange thing to say too, because I cut my teeth on an Olympus OM10 and a Pentax K1000, before gearing up to the back-to-front big boys with the Mamiya C330F.

Obviously after all this time, my M2 and F's are second nature to use, but I have had a nagging thing at the back of my mind for a while, about giving up 35mm altogether and I am wondering whether the polarised viewpoint I have just encountered with the Hasselblad, has maybe been brewing for years. 

I don't actually know

All I do know is that it feels uncomfortable viewing the right-way-round world through the PM45 and yet switching back to the wrong-way-round WLF feels like putting on an old pair of house-trousers that I'll never throw out.



© Phil Rogers
Sanity Is Restored


It's a weird one isn't it. 
Maybe you feel the same way, maybe you don't.

It is probably just me
I think that being forced to view a reversed image makes one concentrate more on the image. If I remember rightly Ansel (or one of the Pantheon Of Analogue Gods) wrote something, somewhere, about the meditative effect of viewing a ground glass.
I think there is definitely something to it, and no matter what, me and those trousers have come a long way together.

Before re-reviewing this post I got the whole set-up out again and did more comparisons; things felt better this time, but not intuitive or comfortable, and I am also wondering whether the new sheer hulk of the 500C/M with the PM45 is contributing to my feelings. 
It has turned something already quite big, yet strangely svelte, into something more akin to a bucket of concrete.

This being said the view is impressively bright, and like old bud Bruce at the Online Darkroom has said (with regard to his Rollei SL66) a prism on a MF camera is probably something more suited to tripod handling. 
He's probably right.

I think I'll stick with the day-to-day, off-kilter world of composition with a reversed image, AND the lovely element of surprise when you view your newly developed negatives with what (to that point) had been in your mind's eye as totally reversed.

I need to do more work . . . or get out more.


© Phil Rogers
More Sanity Restored


© Toho Co., Ltd.
Personally I'd Go With Godzilla,
I Was Never A Kong Fan


And that as they say, is that.
A nice quick one today. 
No proper photographs posted because I haven't actually taken any since February - I dunno, I find it hard to justify 'self' time when I've got nearly 60 square metres of wall space to decorate, plus the woodwork. 
Madness.

Till next time, take care and watch out for The Atomic Breath.
H xxx







Sunday, December 21, 2014

The Nature Of The Complainte

Morning folks and apologies to you if you were expecting Part 4 of the torturous Karavan Khronikles, however I have been beset by a modern problem . . lack of time. C'mon, Christmas is nearly here - what do you do when you have a few spare weekend hours . . yes you go and do normal things with the family, not lock yourself away in the dark and curse . . .
So, to that end, and being of the mind that I wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas anyway, I thought I would provide a reflective theme for the end of the year.

Cap'n Bruce (Robbins) of the Online Darkroom fame and I have been having on/off emailed discussions recently - he's complained of little time and a wish to slim down his vision to something a bit more simple; I have expressed a desire to purchase yet another camera, or failing that, get something like a 50mm Summicron for the M2 just to see how far I can exploit the 35mm negative. Quite a difference!
To excuse myself a little I will say this - for many years I have wanted a Hasselblad - simply because they are beautiful and the lens quality is superlative, however they are not a cheap camera, and actually when I start to think about it, can I go back to ye olde square again? I've spent years making square photographs with the (currently in need of a service) Rollei T - I have beaten the format to death - can I really dedicate a huge chunk of money to it again?
Besides I find I like a more oblong format these days, however (besides 35mm) I do actually have two options in my arsenal with regard to that shape - the Koni Omega 6x7 and my Wista 5x4. "Great" you're thinking, "lucky bugger to have two nice cameras like that," however (and here is The Nature Of The Complainte) as a photographer, one is never satisfied! 
Weird isn't it? 
There's always a hankering for something else; these being, in no particular order:

Quality Of Negative
Quality Of Lens
Ease Of Use
Sharpness
Out Of Focus Characteristics
Fun Quotient

It's terrible really, because I believe that rather like that itch under the plaster-cast you got when you broke a limb at the age of 14, this photographic hankering is an un-scratchable thing.
Go on. How many photographers do you know who own just one camera and one lens? Is the HCB ethic of one camera/one lens really alive and kicking these days? I sincerely doubt it, and I am open to someone pointing me in the right direction of someone who does do it.
Bruce wonders whether he could just slim himself down to a rangefinder (yeah I know, they'll have to bury him with an OM2, so I can't see him getting rid of them) and a couple of lenses. He's even talking about selling his SL66 . . . and you know what? I can't see it - the man loves cameras!
Me? Well a new camera is always a rather nice prospect, but do I need one?
And here folks things get weird, because you will be hard-wired into my thought processes and it isn't pretty:


- = Bad
- = Confused

OK, so the pocket money is beginning to mount up nicely . . what do you fancy buying?

Well, the M2 is the one camera I could never get rid of, but one lens?

Bloody difficult. You couldn't live with just the 1934 Elmar, or the 50's Canon 28mm and 50mm f1.8. And superb though it is, could you really spend the rest of your life just photographing with the 90mm f4 Elmar? I think you know what the answer is.

OK . . M2 and 90mm Elmar . . that's a given.

Well, yeah, it's a start, so a 50mm Summicron? Would that satisfy things? Oh and on the wide side, a 35mm Summaron or Summicron?

You see what I mean?
It is impossible to be satisfied.
And then I go from there to:

Well, for all I know I moaned about it (a lot) but the Pentax 67 had a fantastic selection of lenses - maybe I could get one of those again, but wait a minute I've already got a 6x7 in the Koni and that is great.

But you haven't got a wide for it!

Yeah, a wide . . maybe a wider format would do the trick, maybe 6x9? 

Well yeah, so how about a 6x9 back for the Wista? 

Too cumbersome really, and I want something I can walk around with easily.

OK, so a Fuji 6x9? yeah nice, but a fixed lens - could you live with a fixed lens?
 
Nope - deffo couldn't, well the only option would be a Mamiya Press - you get a few different focal lengths for them.

Yeah, nice, but didn't Bruce say they were a little 'agricultural'?

He did, but those photos of his taken with them are really nice, and then there's John Davies and his UK landscapes, and also Don McCullin.

You've got a point there - stick it on the list. Of coures, the real deal would be AN ALPA!

Shit, yeah, an Alpa! But isn't that more expensive than a house?

Well, nearly, but you've got two good kidneys, and you can just survive on one apparently.

Go for it!

And I leave for work, bouyed by the thought that in a couple of years with one less kidney, I'll be traveling around taking amazing photos with God's gift to the photographer, The Alpa
However, this conversation is replaced a day later by:

You know, 6x12 is a bloody interesting format isn't it?

Too right. Are there any decent cameras out there? And how about a 6x12 back for the Wista?

Too cumbersome.

OK, so it's Linhof, Horseman or bust?

It certainly is, but then don't you think 6x17cm provides a greater sense of space?

Hmmmm - yeah, too right.

OK, so how do you feel about a Linhof or a Fuji . . or how about a Hasselblad X-Pan? You wouldn't need a bigger enlarger for that!

Anyone got a scalpel?

To be replaced a day later by:

You know I really like the look of those Eisenstadt New York photos he made with the old Rollei Standard.

Beautiful aren't they - and they're pretty cheap too! But then again a Zeiss Ikoflex is another option.

Yeah, I'd forgotten about Zeiss . . well how about a Super-ikonta? You can get them in 6x9 too!

You're brilliant, but of course you realise that the Voigtlander is more highly regarded, especially with a Skopar . .

Oh FECK, I forgot about that . . .


And that is The Nature Of The Complainte folks - it is a never-ending circular conversation that questions the use of every format and the quality of every considered camera. I even found myself discussing 645 and Sony NEXs with Bruce and that shows you the madness.
Basically every photographer wants to spend money on new gear and make that one photograph that, when the relations come to clear their house out, might cause someone to pause and say "that's a NICE photograph" before everything gets chucked in the skip.
We, as photographers, are afraid of death (to paraphrase Moonstruck) and we want to be remembered, and only by spending as much money as we can on gear, can we go some way to assuage our subconscious that indeed, our travail on earth as captors of light hasn't been a total waste of time!


Leica M2, 50mm f1.8 Canon



Leica IIIf, 1934 Leitz 50mm f3.5 Elmar



Olympus Trip, 40mm f2.8 Zuiko


Rolleiflex T, 16-On Kit, 75mm f3.5 Tessar


Rolleiflex T, 16-On Kit, 75mm f3.5 Tessar


Rolleiflex T, 16-On Kit, 75mm f3.5 Tessar

Rolleiflex T, 75mm f3.5 Tessar


Rolleiflex T, 75mm f3.5 Tessar


Rolleiflex T, 75mm f3.5 Tessar

Pentax 6x7, 75mm f3.5 Super Takumar


Pentax 6x7, 75mm f3.5 Super Takumar


Koni Omega 6x7, Super Omegon 90mm, f3.5


Agfa 6x9 Box Camera


 
Wista 5x4, Kodak Ektar, 203mm f7.7

Wista 5x4, 150mm f5.6 Schneider Symmar-S

Sinar 5x4, 90mm f6.8 Schneider Angulon

Sinar 5x4, 90mm f6.8 Schneider Angulon


All of the above are physical prints, printed by me - and blow me, can you see much difference?
Nope, me neither - truth be told, for the maximum print size I can make in my tiny darkroom (11x14 at a push) any format will suffice, and yet The Nature Of The Complainte dictates that I should still hunger after a camera/lens combo that is satisfying, sharp, easy to use, high quality, capable of capturing light with a unique signature and all round FUN TO USE, when in actuality, I have any number of them already!
Elsewhere it is known as GAS (Gear Acquisition Syndrome) - I'll just call it MAD (Mental Acquisition Dither) because nothing seems to satisfy that need for more gear. 
I genuinely thought that when I bought the Leica M2, that would be it, but it wasn't . . same with the recent late-manufacture 90mm Super Angulon, a lens so perfect that it makes you want to cry . . . I've barely (sic) scratched its surface and I am already thinking about something else. 
Those rare beast photographers with refined vision and a sense that more cameras means more responsibility, are lucky, for they have no chains to bind them to the earth and can fly into visual legend, but in reality, do they really exist? Do you??
For the rest of us toiling away at the coal-face, the need for more stuff pretty much dominates the hobby. And why not. There's something about a camera, especially a mechanical camera that says This Is It. Mankind's ingenuity and engineering finesse distilled into one perfect machine. A thing to be admired, acquired and used; to be loved and loved again. 
In short it's just about perfection, and a desire to render the world in a perfect way. 
Aside from just snapping away at any old shite as the majority of photography seems to be, surely as a concerned and dedicated photographer half our ouevre is to render an imperfect world in a way which hopefully serves as a reminder to the rest of the herd that (under the right circumstances and with the right machine [and ultimately under our control]) the world can be a perfect and visually beautiful place. 
Like some lost ancient tract, impossibly discovered, a good and symbiotic camera can be that key to the kingdom we all desire.

And so folks for the New Year I fear the search, like some Biblical quest, will go on. But in the meantime, may I take this opportunity to wish you the best for the season.
God bless and thanks for reading. 

Friday, June 29, 2012

P67 - The (Model) Number Of The Beast . . . (Unless You Count C330F Too)

Morning m'Dearios. 
This week your Cap'n has been reading about the terrible tale of the Somerset Nog. A horse (half Suffolk Punch/half Dachshund . . well, it gets very foggy on the moors) so long and overburdened that it snaps in two and founders along with its cargo of day-trippers in Ganderpoke Bog. They do say though, that if 'ee passes Ganderpoke Bog at midnight, you's can still hear the two ghostly halves of the Nog singing a lament.
It fairly wrings your withers to read about it. 
So let that be a lesson to you all:
Don't overburden your Nog.


***


My apologies to you all in advance, but this weeks FB is pure photography all the way, so hold onto your hats, tighten your belt and make sure you've got a pair of flat shoes on . . .
It will bore you to hell unless you like talking about cameras. Normal, less techie, service will be resumed next week.
When I started taking photographs seriously again, after a hiatus of about 15 years, I resumed using what I thought would give me the best quality (as our American friends would call it) bang for buck
I eschewed restarting with 35mm because I had used it fairly extensively at college and wasn't really wanting to go along that path again. 
At college, I had actually had the most photographic enjoyment at the time using The Beast - a Mamiya C330F. This is a camera so heavy it requires a team of sherpas to move it about. I think back in the '80's a large number of them were seen in use by the members of the Russian weight lifting squad at the 1988 Seoul Olympics . . . .




Sherpa Ten-dzen transports a Mamiya C330F to secret Russian training camp circa 1987



Honest, it feels like it weighs about 20 gravities, but it produces very nice quality photographs, and is actually about the cheapest way you can get into interchangeable lens medium format photography without selling your kidneys.
Having fond but painful memories of the Mamiya though made me search in another direction, namely Germany and the Rolleiflex. They were light and beautiful and the camera of choice for lots of well-known photographers. I couldn't afford a 3.5 or 2.8 F model with their exceptional Planar and Xenotar lenses, so I opted instead for a Rolleiflex T.
It wasn't cheap, but neither was it a fortune. What it was however was a stunning piece of 1960's engineering with a range of accessories that worked and fitted beautifully. In other words it was the bees knees.
I have spent many long hours wandering near and far with my Rollei and despite a few teething problems to start (film transport going funny) it has served me well (and still does actually). They are a very adaptable camera - portraits, landscape, pretty much anything you can think of a use for a camera for, and with a bit of free thinking, you can get there. 
However, as time went on I started looking seriously at the likes of Wynn Bullock and Ansel Adams and wondered whether upgrading to a larger format would make some of their vision rub off on me (it didn't by the way). So after much thought, I decided I was very hungry and needed a bigger doughnut.
Enter The Beast # 2. 
I saved up all my pocket money (and Christmas money too) and bought a trip into larger format heaven - a Pentax 6x7.
This camera looks and handles like the fat boy brother of the largest 35mm camera ever made (a Nikon F2s?).




Smuggled prototype photograph from Pentax HQ, showing proposed sizing of the original Pentax 6x7 (with new Mk II lens range) in proportion to average human being size. You can clearly see a plan for world domination here.


The Pentax is solid and heavy, has the loudest mirror slap you have ever heard and the shutter flings itself across with such violence it will actually torque the camera even though it is secured to a tripod. In your hands it can kick like a .22 air pistol. 
It was widely used by fashion photographers (Mario Testino and Bruce Weber are two who come to mind) namely and for that if you are using fast film, or flash, but definitely in the higher range of shutter speeds, I can see it working, but for quieter landscapes it is quite a proposition. The incredible thing is though, that for many it is the landscape camera of choice . . or was, in those heady days of using film. 
Personally, I found it difficult and I had to adopt a totally mad method of taking photographs with it.
Apologies if you love and use your P67, the following might tickle your funny bone . . . 
Note: if you are using the Pentax for anything other than hand-holding it at about 1/125th with the lens stopped down a couple of stops, then try this method of using it on a tripod . . it works. 
So here we go - Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tips.

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 1: Firstly you fix it to your tripod like you are expecting rough weather and phone 999 (or 911).

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 2: Compose your photograph - I recommend the waist level finder actually, because you do not get the full frame when you look through the prism finder. Make sure all emergency services have arrived and are ready and on standby.

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 3: When you are happy, zip up your flash suit, make sure you are in eyeball contact with emergency coordinators and then LOCK THE MIRROR UP AND SET THE SHUTTER TO B. If you do not do this then you will not get a sharp photograph.

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 4: Use your lens cap the way they used to be used - in other words keep it in front of the lens. You can actually use your hand too.

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 5: Hang on to something immovable and release the shutter. This is difficult to do - I found a bicycle chain around my ankle and then secured around a bollard or tree quite good. A cable release is essential, however I have used a pencil. Ear defenders are recommended. The shutter noise will scare birds and small children so sand-bagging the camera can work too. Don't worry though - the emergency crews should be in place to deal with any mishaps.

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 6: Remove your lens cap, but still keep it tightly in place until you are sure there is no movement or vibration from the camera. Very gently move the cap out of the way for your timed exposure. Count off your exposure. Place lens cap back in front of lens tightly and quickly. Release cable release to close shutter and unlock mirror.

Denouement: There you have made a nice photograph with the Pentax.
Kindly ask emergency teams to stand down, but remain in field radio contact with them as you have another 9 frames to use up.


I simply had to adopt this method because it was easier than that well known P67 tip of forcing all your weight down on top of the camera whilst it is tripoded to stop the torque ruining the photographs. I had had to do this a number of times until I came up with the method above believe it or not. It didn't half get some funny looks!
Unfortunately for me, because of my financially necessary photographic bottom feeding, the Pentax I had bought had probably been done to death by its previous owner(s).
It's reliance on batteries was also a pain and proved to be part of its downfall in my eyes. At about -4C, and a number of miles away from anywhere, it just refused to work. I was livid. It is no joke removing a small battery with freezing fingers and shoving it into your pants and clasping it tight in the crease where lower groin meets leg to get a little life back into it. This does work very well by the way, but I wouldn't recommend it if you are photographing in a city . . .
After that trip into the depths of a Scottish late Winter/early Spring I had a wonderful time with a few films being exposed correctly with a perfect frame count all the way through (10 frames on 120 film) and then it started misbehaving again: missing frames and locking completely, resulting in a blue darkroom fog of unloading the partially wound film, respooling it and starting again (!)
Enough was enough and I returned it to the vendor for a refund - they were good enough to do so after my 6 months of using it. I often wonder what happened to it. Knowing the secondhand market, it is probably still around with the problems of the transport still unresolved. 
Old and knackered cameras rarely die, they just keep getting shipped around the country.
For all that I seem to be criticizing the Pentax, I actually think that the problems of the early 6x7's were partially resolved in the later rebuilds - namely the Pentax 67 (see what they did there) and the Pentax 67II.
The superb photographer Steve Mulligan regularly uses a brace of P67II's for aerial photography and I simply don't see how they could have sold so many if they were rubbish.
There is a small whining voice inside me that says, I would love to own one again, simply for their sheer heft and the quality of the lenses. This being said, the lens I had (and could afford) was an early 75mm f4.5 Super-Multicoated-Takumar, and I thought it was a tad soft (there seems to be a concensus of opinion that it is one of the sharpest in the range, so maybe I had a not so good example). 
If I were to go for one again, it would be as late a model as possible with either the 90mm or 105mm lens and the 55mm wide angle. But then again, I would still face the same problem of not being able to see 100% of what I am photographing - a point which annoys the hell out of me.
My notes from when I returned the Pentax read as follows:

Basically no matter how good looking and likeable the Pentax 67 system is (and it is) - never get another one!!
The flaw of the system is the shutter (which is ridiculously loud and heavy in action *
If you want a 6x7 go for a RB67 or Fuji or something but not Pentax.
* The camera will torque no matter how much effort you put into restraining it. Only the lens cap/mirror up method works, but then we were let down by the lens.

The madness of bigger doughnuts did sort of resolve itself from this. The money I got back from the Pentax and lens and all the doo-dads I'd bought for it - strap, UV filter, waist-level finder, plus a trade-in of a nice little Petri rangefinder, enabled me to take a giant step forward.
I got the Supersized lunchtime special doughnut; a camera so large and bulky and yet so wonderful that I still own it. A Sinar F.
It is so much a character of his own, that he will have his own dedicated FB sometime soon.
But back to the Pentax, why does that niggling voice keep going? 
Why would I want to get another one when the original proved to be so unreliable and challenging to use? 
I think it could well be, that I like the idea (but maybe not the practicality) of having one again. Yes it was difficult to use. Yes it wasn't a ready companion miles away from anywhere, and yet, it was a character all of its own. A camera that you had to deal with on its own terms and not your own. A struggle to use, and yet a pleasure too. I hope he is still around out there, giving some bargain hunter pleasure and not pain!
The photograph below was made with the Pentax, at a place called Mossburn Ford in the Scottish Borders. The path Alec Turnips and myself were on passed through someone's garden, before meandering away and up a hillside. In the garden were some overgrown sheds with this incredible collection.








The photograph was made on Ilford FP4 at EI 64. I metered it with my Gossen Lunasix S meter (a totally wonderful light meter) placing the top left corner on Zone V. Exposure was 2 seconds at f16.
It was developed as per Barry Thornton's instructions - basically Ilford Perceptol at 1:3 and 20C, for 14 and a half minutes.
The scan does very little justice to the print, which somehow manages to 'breath' in the greys with a luminosity that is always very difficult to get a hold on.
I call it 'Grandfather's Chair', because of that old candlewick bedspread draped over the chair. 
It looks to me like a figure is sitting there - possibly the ghost of someone's Grandfather, still clinging to the unloved remnant of his favourite chair. 
Allied with the movement from the weeping Willow, and I think an air of strangeness has been imparted to it.
Of all the photographs I have made, it is the only one I have framed and on the wall in my study.
(Ab)normal service will be resumed next week.
God bless and thanks for reading.




Wednesday, March 28, 2012

You don't understand. I could'a had class. I could'a been a contender. I could'a been somebody . . . (In Praise Of Strange Cameras)

Firstly, humble apologies for the lateness of this . . .it was just one of those things.
The weekend FB will be published on Friday evening, so there, forewarned is forearmed.
I must admit, I have a bad habit. It is harmless to everything, except my credit card, but it is fun and makes me happy. It is the acquistion of cameras. I don't go crazy as financially I have never been able to, but I do get such enjoyment from cleaning up that new arrival with the grubby face and being nice to it, that I feel I should be working for Barnado's.
As mentioned in an earlier post, a lot of cameras are treated truly appallingly - it makes no sense. If you make photographs, your tools are your friends. you are a craftsman - be proud of your tools and look after them! Look - I have even made that last bit bold type. Please, be kind, And especially these days . . . how many people making film cameras are left? Answers on a small postcard please.
At Sheephouses' Home For Old Cameras (SHFOC) we have seen some really dog-eared examples of the camera race. The tattiest two have been a Pentax 67, which was brassed to bits, but strangely had a very accurate shutter, and a recent Nikon F3 which appeared to have been used so much that the black paint surrounding the shutter release button was completely worn through to the aluminium  . . . hmmmm . . . wonder how many times that shutter has been used? The camera itself though (as is typical of all professional Nikons) worked well!
However, of them all, the strangest and greatest that has ever arrived is a 1970's Koni-Omega Rapid 100. Although the vendor told me it was working fine, when it arrived the back was exhibiting the usual frame spacing issues and the lens was a tad dusty, also the light seals were gone all over and the rangefinder needed a clean. However the vendor sold it at a reasonable price and the cost of returning it overseas was exhorbitant, so I kept it. Caveat Emptor - always make sure you buy as locally as possible and have some form of comeback on one of these. As it was I ended up sending it to Miles Whitehead* - a camera repairman who completely refurbished it for a very reasonable price - you should see what he did to the lens - it is like new, and everything operates incredibly well.



(Here, Mr. Alec Turnips shows us what to do with a camera as big as your face)


As a camera, the Koni-Omega is an afterthought in the runner's-up race of could-have-beens. It could have been the greatest Medium Format camera ever built were it not for two points. Firstly the advance, which is the strangest thing ever invented. You have to pull a ratcheted 'slide' lever straight out from the film back and shove it back in; the action is quite violent and very un-photographic. Apparently it might have had its roots from when it was was originally designed as a military camera (no worries about fiddly knobs and things in extremely cold weather with gloves on) - a lot of our American cousins have likened the action to cocking a rifle and who am I to argue . .
Whatever the intention, this is a very difficult practice for a photographer who believes in looking after gear, and when I first got the Koni I was relatively gentle in my cocking and re-cocking action . . which actually resulted in overlapping frames. You have to use force. Or even the force Luke. If you do, your frames will be fine. They start off narrower and get progressively wider as the film goes on.
Its second Achilles Heel, is the rangefinder, which although it features parallax corrected bright frames, I personally find very difficult to use and composition with it is somewhat difficult. I still haven't got used to where abouts the exact edge of the frame is in relation to the images' position on the film.
Right that's its bad points out of the way. "What," you say, "only two bad points Cap'n?"
Yerse, only two!.
The good points are many:
As it is only the second 6x7 camera I have handled, I can say it is almost as easy to use as the Pentax - it balances well and is suprisingly un-bulky (for such a large, heavy camera). With its handle at the left side, it is really very easy to hold and shoot with - the one caveat I would add to this is that you would really be best to use a slightly faster film with it, as the weight could cause difficulties with camera shake (if you are not sure of your muscles and/or photo-taking technique).
I have used it successfully on a large Gitzo monopod, and the two together make an incredibly stable package and that was with slow film and exposures of about 1/15th! With the likes of Tri-X there's no problem - just stick to around 1/60th and you'll be fine..
The main wonder of this camera though is it's standard lens - originally a 90mm Hexanon, and latterly a 90mm Super Omegon. Both lenses are identical formulations, though I believe the latter was made by Mamiya and they used a more 'modern' Seiko shutter (the former were by Konica - hence 'Koni'!). The lens is (again) a Tessar design, but I can honestly say it is one of the finest lenses I have ever used. It is one of those rarities that can run the gamut from smooth pictorial, to incredibly detailed crispness and all points in between. The oofa (or bokeh) is sublime and imparts a creamy, dreamy effect to any images shot between f3.5 and f8. Stop down further than that and you enter seriously detailed territory.
The leaf shutter in the lens is another great thing, as obviously you only have that to worry about, and no massive (a la Pentax) mirror slap - in other words, it is a very quiet camera. The shutter release has quite a long throw to it, because it has two parts of travel. The first stage results in a small tick from the back of the camera as the pressure plate moves forward and presses your film tight against the guide rails (it moves out of the way when you pull the advance lever) - this ensures ultimate film flatness. The second stage is the shutter, which has the usual mechanical leaf shutter sound - very quiet indeed.




The above shows the oofa qualities of the lens. Unfortunately I was slightly out of focus on the 261 . . but never mind, you get the idea. Film was Tri-X developed in Barry Thornton's 2 bath. Timings were 1/15th at f8. Not too tardy at all methinks.


Phil Rogers, photographer, Dundee


I used a tripod for this shot, and whilst it isn't the best way to use a Koni, it worked well. I stopped down to f16 and exposed for 54 seconds (it was an October's overcast evening) on TMX 100 at EI 100, developed in Barry Thornton's 2-bath. You'll get an idea of the incredible detail resolved by this combination. also the distant trees retain that old-style Tessar dreaminess. I love it actually.
So there you go. (Apparently) the most popular wedding photographers camera of the 1970's in America, now selling for next to nothing, but still capable of returning sterling results. Yes it does have it's faults, but if you can live with those and want a nice photographic adventure, I can recommend adopting one of these poor boys - there's a lot of them out there, and they are in deep need of some TLC.
The more I use it, the more I like it!

http://www.mwcamerarepairs.co.uk/

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Saturday Morning Pictures

Well, like a charging Berserker wielding a Battle Club and splitting your skull asunder, unfortunately another working week is upon us! I don't know about yours, but mine was faster than ever - no sooner have you downed Friday nights gin, than Sunday nights vino has gone the same way . . .but at least I did get out and do what the heading of this blog says . . . .
Yes, out into a new brave dawn!
Grim of face, but true to the spirit of photography!
When mere mortals were still abed, FogBlog Man strode the streets in search of new subject matter!
But enough of that shiitake . . . . to preface a little . . .

My son, when he was very small, in a moment of total genius, managed to distill the Postman Pat song down into a haiku-esque 6 word precis:

Early Morning
Day Dawning
Happy Man

This to me is perfect, because it sums up my photographic escapades to an absolute tee. I love being out in the morning - as early as the light permits, which in the summer in these climes can be as early as 4 AM-ish.
Operating within a city at these times means that you can usually photograph to your hearts content without being bothered and without having to worry about being hit by a van as you stand in the middle of the road.
The only hazards really are revellers on their way home, early dog walkers, and (rarely) other photographers. This being said I was once very nearly arrested for taking photographs near an airport. The Duty Manager had phoned the police and they had obviously thought that someone carrying a large rectangular shaped camera was a threat to security - and quite right too - I have no bad feelings about this at all; in fact it is nice to know someone somewhere is doing their job in these uncertain times. However, I digress. Thinking fast with visions of my camera's back being ripped open and my lovingly composed negatives being cast to the wind,  I quickly managed to pursuade the officer that really, I was of little danger to national security wielding one of these:




The above (modelled by Mr. Alec Turnips in a symphony of blue . . . and yes I know the case isn't fixed to the right side properly . . .) is the camera I have owned the longest - it is a 1965 Rolleiflex T and I love it. It has been a constant companion on many hillwalks and morning escapades and has operated flawlessly for many years. The lens is the superb f3.5 Zeiss Tessar. It makes remarkable photographs at it's best operating aperture which is f11, however wide open or stopped right down to f22, it is still a sterling performer.
The beauty of Rolleis is that they were perfectly designed from the off. Everything fits, and the accessories are totally useable and simple to get your head around. The ones I use the most are the Rolleinars and the 16-on kit. The former are a series of parallax corrected close-up lenses which can produce incredibly sharp photographs. The latter allows you to shoot 16 frames of film (instead of 12) in a rough resemblance of the 645 (6x4.5cm) format (as opposed to the standard 6x6 cm format).
For many years I would stride the streets with Oly (the Rollei) taking photographs of all sorts o'stuff that I found amusing or interesting. Sometimes I would make photographs I was rather proud of.
Then I bought a Pentax 67, a camera that, whilst seeming to be brilliant (and curiously in a masochistic way, WAS) proved to be a definite early morning job, as it's sheer size and noise made you stand out as much as if you had been wearing a pink catsuit (with bells on and embroidered flames running up the legs). For all its macho size and tank-like looks, it unfortunately proved unreliable (a common theme with the earliest models, though not the latter ones) and I returned it, but somewhere at the back of my head I always hankered after that lovely 6x7 cm negative size. It nagged and nagged, and so began a game of chance and research, luck and money. After many hard hours of scouring lists and reading blogs and looking at books, my quest for a 'better' negative resulted in me jumping formats altogether, moving up to Large Format photography and purchasing a Sinar F monorail camera.
Sinars are without a doubt the unsung bargain of modern photography, because:

a.) There are so many of them (and their bits and pieces) that they are relatively cheap. For sheer VFM quality, I think they are untouchable.

and

b.) Because they are truly built to last and so wonderful to use.

If you have never used a Large Format camera and you've only used 'miniature' cameras like a 35mm, then I can heartily recommend the effort required to use one. Everything about them takes time; from setting up, to composition, to making the photograph, to processing and proofing . . and  . . what's that? You want to print them at a size bigger than the actual 5x4" size? Oh, well you'll need a new enlarger then, or at least a good quality flat-bed scanner that will accept such things as a negative that is nearly as big as a small slice of bread. Personally I got a DeVere 504 enlarger (thank you Granny Mac) and haven't looked back.
The original point of this diatribe though, was early morning photography . . . and it is here dear reader that being oot and aboot at the Crack O'Dawn really works with the LF camera. No one will bother you, because they aren't about. You can wander around lugging said camera attached to a tripod like a mad Victorian, darkcloth around your neck and a crazed look in your eyes! I even once attracted an audience of two young guys on their way home from a club, who (curious about why I was standing on a Black and Decker Workmate, with my ancient Linhof tripod at its full extension [about 8 or 9 feet] photographing a series of roof-scapes on an industrial unit) simply stood by, munching their pies, uttering things like  "Woah" and "Coooooool".
I am not sure if that last bit wasn't just the product of their evenings inebriation though . . . . but I appreciated it and had a good conversation with them about the camera. At least they didn't knock me off my Workmate.
Believe it or not, there are some brave souls out there who use LF cameras at normal times of day in public places and I just don't know how they do it - I haven't mustered up the nerve yet.




The above photograph was made at another abnormal time of day. Dusk. A Winter's Dusk to be precise. Snow had fallen, it was about - 4C and there was definitely no one about. A camera (especially a metal monorail like the Sinar) can freeze to ones hands at such times. But I was tough, didn't cry and managed to accentuate everything a wide angle lens and a monorail camera can do. Apparently you aren't supposed to make the world look like this, but what the heck . . it got the atmosphere of the place. The original print, is far superior and has a strange plastic look to it, which I can only put down to the extreme exposure and choice of developer. The snow looks exactly like snow lit by street lights at dusk, which was exactly my intention.
Personally I feel it would make a rather good book cover. Preferably a book of proper spine chilling ghost stories in the Gothic style.
Mr. Jonathan Aycliffe - please write some more books again soon . . . . .
Oh, and it wasn't taken on a Saturday!

Camera: Sinar F
Lens: 1967 90mm f6.8 Schneider Angulon
Film: HP5 exposed for a remarkable 145 seconds!
Developer: Barry Thornton's 2 bath