Battery powered exposure metering is something that the vast majority of today's photographer's take largely for granted. Today's sophisticated systems can do matrix metering, spot metering, and often include older standards such a "center-weighted" and "evaluative" as well. Simply put, there is often little need for one to give much thought to exposure when armed with a camera, and can elect to concentrate more on composition and or focus in taking photos.
But this wasn't always the case. One need only go back to the early 1960's to find a very different world photographically. In-camera meters were themselves hardly universal, and those cameras that did offer metering typically did so via selenium cells that had a somewhat limited life expectancy and didn't really function adequately in lower light situations.
Interestingly enough, the advent of "CDS" cell metering powered by a battery didn't start with a well known name in photography today such as Nikon or Canon or Fuji, but rather a lesser known Japanese maker by the name of Taron. Their release of the Marquis in 1962 was a significant leap for photography, and one whose effects are all too well known today, even if their own significance regarding this milestone has since been forgotten.
There are a number of Japanese camera makers of the 1950's and 1960's that were unable to adapt as global marketplaces and the camera industry changed through the decades. Aires, Samoca, Petri and Taron are four such makers. Taron's specialty was in 35mm rangefinders, and offered models such as the JL, MX, Unique, Robin, and EyeMax. None of these other models were quite as groundbreaking as the Marquis however, whose CDS equipped body was the first such camera in the world.
Too Pretty for Pity? Well, not terribly likely, but it made for a catchy title. The somewhat more accurate title of "Too Cherished for Charity" just didn't have the same ring.
The evening's run home had all the hallmarks of my typical commute, and with it, the pondering of a stop off at the Goodwill a block off my commuting route, but almost always impeded by heavy traffic. Given that my last few visits to this same thrift store had netted me absolutely nothing in vintage camera finds, I had more or less elected to skip the deviation, but left the slightest door open to the possibility, electing "if there is no cross traffic, maybe I'll give it a try."
As if almost by intervention, Urbana Pike was completely free of the usual southbound traffic, so on a resigned whim, I elected to give the pit stop a try since there was very little time or gas wasted by the effort. I wholly expected to breeze in and breeze back out with no net gain, and even after perusing the electronic offerings of the day, had almost determined that the trip was another lost effort when, mixed among a box of remote controls and other small electronic apparatus, I found this little gem for $1.99.
The Yashica T2 definitely embodies the decade that produced it.
828: a forgotten format...
116: a forgotten format...
127: A forgotten format...
00: a forgotten format...
120: a forgotten for..., wait WHAT?!?
I've turned a lot of attention to what is often referred to as "obsolete formats" in the past year, referring to film sizes that are either commercially scarce or completely out of commercial production. In the process of this interest, I've sort of lost sight of one of the main points of interest in my own film resurgence: the 120 format folding film camera.
In the Fall of 2014, 120 folders were my bread and butter, and I produced many photos with these surprisingly capable compact cameras that I'm still quite proud of, but my use of them had begun to dwindle, as 35mm began to make inroads into my shooting queue for its expanded film selection, while the other mothballed formats began to take more and more of my quirky side's attention. Meanwhile, some of my folding camera favorites began showing signs of their age: the Balda Pontina had an odd light leak, the Ikonta A didn't quite seem to focus properly, and neither my original Franka Solida nor its replacement were working as they should. Further, I'd pretty much stopped looking for additions to my collection of this genre to complement my collection, though I knew I still had some interest in rekindling the time in which my interest in shooting 120 format flourished.
My budget however was not what it was when I first started shooting. Where I'd once been OK with spending $60 for a single camera, I now found myself peeking more and more through thrift stores to see what I could snag for under $10. Times had definitely changed, but indeed for the better, as I became more scrutinizing of spending any money towards new pickups.
The general outcome of these modified shopping habits tended to put most of these deluxe folding cameras out of reach, and yet I still didn't have a 6x6 folder that I could depend upon, but then luck happened upon me.
This is Part 1 of a recurring series on basic point and shoot consumer cameras, the details of which can be found here.
Olympus is a camera maker known over the decades for engineering some of the most compact cameras of their types. Among the most well known of these are the svelte OM series of SLR cameras, but also the PEN half-frame cameras, XA and 35 series rangefinder models, and the modern micro 4/3 mirrorless digital cameras. Thus, the rather blocky Olympus "compact" camera below caught me by surprise when I spotted it for sale in the thrift shop display case. It was certainly among the earlier of autofocus point and shoot cameras, but was it any good? I was about to find out.
Name: Olympus Infinity Zoom 200
Type: Autofocus Point and Shoot
Features: Multi-Flash, Spot Focus, Auto Portrait Mode, Date Back, concealed removable remote trigger, Limited filter use possible with optional proprietary attachment.
Lens: Olympus 38-90mm f/4.5-6.4, 7 elements in 7 groups.
Battery: 2 CR-123 Cells.
Battery: 2 CR-123 Cells.
There have been times when I have felt like the proverbial "cat lady" of Vintage Cameras. These instances have occurred when browsing a Goodwill or seeing an auction lot of a handful of cameras online, only to take pity on a rather ordinary camera passed along for very cheap sale, on the expectation that I might somehow find a use for it.
This tendency offers a quick cheap fix for the perils of GAS that pervade the photographic hobby and is relatively harmless, except that I make a point of shooting any camera I acquire as long as it is possible.
The result is that I am now often saddled with taking along an extra camera or two to work through a roll to get some results from these adopted cameras to see what they can do. As the bulk of these cameras aren't coveted by collectors and have since been shunned by consumers, there is often little online to document them and of what they may be capable. Therefore, I shall be featuring periodic posts with mini write ups of these cameras to spotlight them and their results, offering at least a small online glimpse at what they can do. In the interest of economy, film choice is likely to be "whatever I have laying around."
Cameras that ideally fit the mold of this sort of feature should fit the following criteria:
- A point and shoot, focus free or AF consumer targeted camera, of compact nature.
- A camera with few if any special desirable features aside from flash settings and zoom.
- A camera that cost me no more than $5.25 total, including tax or shipping.
- A camera that wasn't anything I had an interest in an acquiring prior to me seeing it.
I will continue to feature many point and shoot cameras in their own more comprehensive articles, but such cameras will break one or more of the criteria above. Hopefully this will prove to be a novel way to document some basic camera models that have been largely forgotten since digital cameras (and smart phones) took over the vast majority of the consumer photo business. Enjoy!
Certain groundbreaking names are often etched in the memory of the photographic community. Even those who have never shot film have typically heard of George Eastman and Auguste Lumiere. It is tough not to think of Ansel Adams or Henri Cartier Bresson when thinking of early photographers. As well, hobby collectors of film cameras are often well aware of the legacies created by Ernst Leitz and Carl Zeiss.
But what about the Reverend Hannibal Goodwin? In a way, most of the people mentioned already owe a bit to the Reverend Goodwin for his contribution to photography.
Goodwin filed the first patents to produce film in a flexible roll form. In this way, he could be considered the "Grandfather" of motion pictures, and of the 35mm film format, though he never lived to see his innovation reach its widespread potential.
Prior to the recently retired Reverend's patent filing in 1887, most photography was done on rigid materials such as glass plates. Goodwin's intent was to create a sturdy film material from a nitrocellulose film base for the purpose of biblical teachings. His patent was not granted until over 11 years later, by which point George Eastman was already producing roll film using a process of his own. Goodwin would begin setting up an operation in 1898, only to die in an accident at the end of 1900.
Later, this patent would be sold, along with the Goodwin's film production business to Scovill & Anthony (later shortened to "Ansco") who used their leverage as patent holders to sue Eastman for patent infringement, resulting in an award of $5 million dollars to Ansco in 1914, and saving it from bankruptcy.
The Ansco film and camera production business would continue to exist in various forms over the next several decades, merging first with Agfa in 1928, and eventually simply was folded into parent company GAF in the late 1960's. In its earlier years, the company did pay a modest tribute to Reverend Goodwin by naming some models in its box camera lineup with his name, such as the Ansco No. 2A Goodwin.
The austere and basic Ansco No. 2A Goodwin