Instamadness: The Ricoh 126C Flex

The morning of May 26, 2017 dawned in Frederick with a surprising amount of sunshine compared to the days which had proceeded it. Today was my mother's birthday, and I'd been busy preparing late the evening prior.  There would be no festive celebration, but instead remembrance.

Today would have been my mother's 81st birthday.  She passed away in the beginning of May 2014 just a few weeks shy of her 78th birthday.  The last three advents of May the 26th had been challenging to say the least, but this year, I had elected to spend it a bit differently.  At nearly the last minute, I'd elected to begin a new tradition of sorts,

My mother enjoyed photography in much the same way as I do,  But while I've always enjoyed approaching photography from new angles, armed with a varied plethora of different photographic devices, she remained fiercely loyal to a single photographic companion - her Kodak Instamatic X-35.

Nearly all of the photographic memories of my childhood were taken through the lens of this basic camera, and while I never recall seeing any photos from this camera that stun me with magnificent sharpness or phenomenal bokeh, the small plastic camera did its job of recording family memories for decades.  My mother's loyalty to this camera was so great that she simply stopped taking photos when the availability of 126 film in local stores dried up in the mid-1990's, despite me getting her what I thought was a perfectly suitable easy-loading Pentax replacement in 35mm format.

A few days prior to the advent of this day, I had been browsing about a few camera articles online when I happened upon a site that detailed some of the more "up-market" offerings in the 126 format, and within a few days, had elected to give one of the cameras featured on this page a try.  My "Why not?" moment for 126 was soon answered by the Ricoh 126C-Flex.

The 126-C Flex seems to be a marriage of parts from the TLS lineup of 35mm SLR cameras and the earlier Ricohflex 35 leaf shutter SLR cameras.  The 55mm f/2.8 lens seems to be the same as that on the Ricohflex, and provides a mild portrait/telephoto perspective for the smaller 126 format. 

The 127 Auto Ultimate? Ihagee's Auto Ultrix Westentaschen 2850

Some things take work to get right, be they relationships, recipes, or simply routines.  And while instant gratification can be a wonderful thing, there comes a certain sense of satisfaction in working carefully to improve upon something imperfect to gradually improve upon it. 

But getting to that point is not always easy.  It often takes a lot of trial and error, and some careful attention to detail to get things right, or at least close enough.  

Which brings me to my latest feature...

Despite looking rather imposing in this photo, the Auto Ultrix dimensions of roughly 5"x 3" x 1.5"

It had all of the hallmarks of a perfect shooter for me.  Compact and classic in style, yet capably equipped with a Zeiss Tessar lens, this Ihagee Auto Ultrix Westentaschen 2850 (hereafter to be referred to as the "Auto Ultrix" for the sake of brevity) seemed to be my "full frame" 127 format folder that I'd hoped the Agfa Billy Zero would be.  Found through a Craigslist ad, I paid a decent amount more than my typical threshold, but figured that this treat would be worth the investment, as the price was fair.

Super Sleeper: The Kodak Brownie Starflex

About the best barometer of a camera collector's affinity towards a particular example in his active collection would be the number of rolls of film that have passed through its chambers to produce images.  A camera that sees a single inaugural roll of film only to then sit and collect dust would certainly seem to be less favored than a model that has seen numerous rolls of film in the same amount of time.  

Given that I have a decent sized collection, it isn't too often that a particular example stays by my side for several months as a primary camera churning out roll after roll of film, so a camera that sees half a dozen rolls over the course of a year would admittedly be a well favored "high-use" camera for me.

Occasionally, I come to notice that a particular example in my collection has been called into use more than I would have guessed, seeming to indicate that I have a latent, almost subconscious liking of it that comes as a surprise to me.  I call these examples "Sleeper Cameras" as they possess some intangibles that seem to make them inexplicably endearing to me.   This is one of my very few examples of such a camera in my collection...

I'd more or less expected this little camera to be good for one roll and nothing more.  Nope!

May the Foth be with you: The Derby Camera

In the digital photography era, a photographer who still collects and shoots film cameras can often feel like a kid in a candy store.  It is this feeling that tends to lead to an air of irresponsibility, particularly in the digital marketplace of online auctions.

The ease of finding interesting film cameras combined with a cheap outlay cost for acquisistion often results in the film camera collector finding themselves an owner of cameras which they may not have known about just an hour previously, leaving them the task to figure out a use, if any, for their newly found goods.

While I had heard about, and even read a bit about the Foth Derby, it was never a camera that struck me as a "must-have."  Yet, in my recently discovered interest in the 127 format, as well as my desire to shoot 127 film and come away with more shots per roll than the Agfa Billy 0 would provide, I'd given it enough consideration to place what I considered a lowball bid upon a reasonably decent example of this camera model.  When the last of the sands of the auction's hourglass had fallen down, I was the new owner of a Foth Derby, and no particular plan for it.

A camera design that has its share of genius and not-so-smart.

Film Fun Folio #23 - Balda HaPo 10 and (LONG!) Expired Verichrome Pan

Periodically, I'll be posting scans of some complete rolls of film on here, showing both the good and the bad, and giving some basic information as well a little write up of the shoot as well as the reasons why I selected each camera and film.  Enjoy the trip! 

Feature #23:

Camera: ca. 1938 Balda Hapo 10 with 105mm Steinheil Munchen f/3.8 lens.

Film: Kodak Verichrome Pan (Expired 1962)

Locale: Central Maryland and Washington DC.

It's always the ones you have the highest hopes for that let you down.  When I pulled the trigger on the Hapo 10, enamored with its looks, I hoped this would be a great addition to my 6x9 cameras.  I ultimately was underwhelmed after three rolls of film through this camera failed to really give much in the way of good results.

However, after experiments using old Verichrome Pan gave me surprisingly good, if somewhat vintage looking results, I thought it might be time to give the old Hapo one more try.  It's slow performing shutter seemed a good fit for a long expired film that needed over exposure.  I hoped I could get at least a suitable result or two from this old camera that had been sitting for nearly a year, or at least I could play on the seeming flaws of the Hapo and create a roll of very distressed shots done just for fun.  

The first two shots were immediately blown, to no fault of the Hapo.  When I loaded up the film, I should have done an initial re-taping of this 50 year old film to its backing paper in the dark prior to loading. Sure enough the tightly curled film separated from the backing and as a result, I lost the first exposures.  I could only hope the remaining six chances were enough to get something good from this pretty, but pretty disappointing camera.  Note: Keep in mind the "settings" here are what was on the camera, but this camera is known to have a slow shutter, so they are likely to be about half as fast as what is indicated for these images.  

A---------------------------------------B--------------------------------------------C---------------D

3 - Monrovia, MD - f/4.5, 1/100 -  Interestingly, what would pretty much turn out to be the most disappointing shot on the roll would also serve as the most informative,  I should have really backed further up to get this ramshackle old house along the road, for a better result, but looking at the image, something is apparent: the area between B and C above is fairly sharp, while the areas outside of this tend to be blurred.  I had never noticed this tendency before on previous rolls, and by sheer coincidence, the rest of the roll would tend to have its subjects in this area of the frame.  

An Autographic Experiment - Part 3 - Using 116 Film in a 116 Camera

My love affair with my Autographic 1A had seemed to have plateaued.  Once envisioned as a cheap (only $7.19) camera that would enable me to shoot occasional "supersized" landscape photos on 120 film, my actual results, initially promising, were getting progressively worse, and after another set of washed out results in Film Fun Folio #19, I had begun to question whether I needed to simply relegate this elegant old camera to a shelf display.  Besides, if I wanted large transparencies, the smaller 1A paled in comparison to the 3A to provide such goodies. 

But being the master of last chances that I am, I gave the venerable old Autographic one last grace period to prove to me that it could find value as an active member of my collection. This was helped no doubt by a lucky lowball bid that landed me a roll of long expired Verichrome Pan film in the 1A's native 116 film format.  And with this, I figured, it was time to do one more "Autographic Experiment"

Though I had heard of good results from using long expired Verichrome Pan, the truth was that results could still be hit and miss, largely in relation to how well the film had been stored.  This roll expired in the mid-1970's: not a "Spring Chicken" but not as ancient as some rolls that people were shooting with success.  I loaded up the Autographic and began to flesh out ideas for shooting subjects.  I was not about to simply fire off these 8 shots on just anything.  Rather, I would try to bias my subjects to those of a historical nature, and potentially see if this old film would give me some successful tries of "Nostalgraphy."

I had been discovering the wealth of Civil War era history near where I live, so it seemed this camera and film would eventually get an assignment to capture some battlefield sites.  For now though, with a loaded camera and an itchy shutter finger, I set my sights on a lady.  I had a lunch date, and her name was "Aggie." 

The "Black Aggie" statue is the subject of a decades old legend involving a curse.  An unauthorized copy of a similar figure called "grief," this statue once adorned a cemetery plot in Druid Ridge Cemetery outside of my hometown of Baltimore, MD.  The origin of this supposed curse vary, and its effects include stories of women made infertile, a man losing his arm, and night time visitors reporting Aggie's deep set eyes glowing in the darkness.  The monument was removed from its site in 1967.

I had recently been reminded of this legend, and had just discovered that Aggie had been relocated to a courtyard just a 20 minute walk from my work.  So off I went to memorialize this legend on film, using a camera that wasn't much younger than the memorial itself. Unfortunately, the lighting in the courtyard on a lightly overcast day was pretty drab for the ISO 50 at which I was rating the film, so the nominal shutter speeds available of 1/25 and 1/50 were a stretch.  In addition, I'd neglected to bring a tripod this day, so I had to do some particular improvisation on the fly, letting my Olympus Pen digital double as a prop as I tried to frame Aggie in the dim "Brilliant Finder."  I fired off a pair of shots and expected to use the rest on some of the Civil War sites in Central Maryland in the coming weeks.