Overshadowed Overachiever: The Minolta Maxxum 5

A few months ago, I waxed poetic about an oft-overlooked Minolta camera model, remarking of its many charms, and insisting that it was a great sleeper find that was overlooked due to all of the attention of its slightly more capable siblings that hog the spotlight.

Well, prepare yourself for more of that.

Like a Hollywood reboot brought 30 years forward from its original setting, I'm once again here to espouse the virtues of an oft-overlooked Minolta camera model that I feel to be a phenomenal bargain in the marketplace today.  

To those of us either discovering or re-discovering film, the myriad of Minolta Maxxum models and their generational successions can be a daunting learning curve.  However, the one most novel standout from the procession of about 15 years of Minolta "Maxxum" film SLR models is the Minolta Maxxum (Dynax) 7, an amazing machine that uses an intuitive LCD display on the back to display settings.  It is a film camera that can easily be mistaken for a DSLR, and regularly fetches upwards of $100 on the used market.  It has, to this date, retained a certain degree of cult status that is only reinforced by the scarcity and price in the used market.

But for a mere fraction of the price of a Minolta Maxxum 7, a comprehensively featured alternative in this same line up can be readily found in working condition: a light weight camera excellently suited for advanced film photography on a budget. This my friends, is the Minolta Maxxum 5.

Unlike the dated look of many Maxxum line cameras of the 1980's and 1990's , the 2000 vintage Maxxum 5 presents a fairly contemporary look in comparison.

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. 

Fun with Film: Agfa 100 HDC

When it comes to color film, there have been Kodak loyalists, Fuji Loyalists, and those who just like shooting film regardless of who made it.  I'm certainly one who falls in the latter camp, but I've long admitted a particular fondness for Agfa color films.  I love Ultra 50, used to shoot a bit of my favorite portfolio shots on Portrait 160, and had also liked using their "general purpose" color films as well.

One of those films, not often found today, was Agfa 100 HDC.  It was a very clean and snappy film, and one that I tended to find more neutral than the warm tones of Kodak Gold or the cool hues of many Fuji stocks.  

I managed to come across a short sample roll of HDC not too long ago, and decided to give it another try.  To get as many images from the roll as I could, I spooled it onto my custom 828 backing and shot it in square format through the Bantam RF for which I had the 24x24mm square mask made.  Here is a look at some of the good and not so good from this roll.  

I was quite pleased at how this long expired film had held up over the decade and change since it was made.  Taken in late afternoon light, this image conveys a look that looks just like the scene taken.  The blue-green color of the street posts is actually the shade they are painted.

ME Superb! The Pentax ME Super

Fully aware that I have posted a lot of camera reviews as of late, I feel compelled to offer a "Cliff's Notes" version for those viewers who simply wish to skip down to the photos without guilt...

• Quirky guy buys cheap "parts only" camera in order to secure a manual focus lens.
• Quirky guy finds out that camera actually works with no seeming issues.
• Quirky guy elects to try out the camera on a whim, though worried of its performance.
• Quirky guy finds a stellar new favorite camera in this "throwaway!"

It's true, and I blame the Pentax K-1000.  And this is why.

As the proud new owner of the Pentax ZX-7 camera that can readily accept both AF and manual Pentax lenses, I got a "bee in my bonnet" to pick up a K-series 50mm lens in order to have an affordable fast prime to fit onto this modern film camera.  With patience not being my strongest virtue at this particular point in time, I scoured ebay "Buy-it-Now" listings for a cheap pickup on such a lens and found the cheapest to be around $35 once shipping was added.  I certainly wanted to see if I could find such a lens for a bit less, so I employed a particular strategy to search for a "parts" camera body that included the lens to see if I could find a worn out camera with an optically decent lens attached.

Knowing that the basic K-1000 cameras were typically running about $50 or more with lenses attached, I tried to jog my brain cells to recall what other models were made by Pentax, and vaguely recalled the LX and ME.  The LX, a known premium model, certainly was showing up at prices reflecting that premium.  However, I was able to find a some worthwhile results on my search using "Pentax ME Lens," the cheapest of which offered an ME Super body and lens for $29 total.  The seller readily acknowledged that the camera likely didn't work, but this was still cheaper than buying the lens alone, and that was really all I wanted.

I knew nothing about this camera model, but by using logic (something that one should really discard in this hobby), I figured that if a bland vanilla K-1000 typically cost at least $50 with a lens, and if an ME Super could be found pretty easily for $30, then it stood to reason that an ME Super was an older, less desirable, less versatile camera than the austere "K-Grand."  I gave little initial thought to the camera at all though - it was almost certainly dead, and even if it worked, I would hardly be elated to have a camera that was the lesser of the K-1000.

This camera can really be summed up in the one in-focus word in this photo. 

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.

An Instant Repeat: The Polaroid 440

When it rains, it pours.  I had not even cleaned the dust from my Polaroid Colorpack II camera before I had elected to look about to see what other models I might be able to find, stopping in one of my favorite shops in Baltimore known for carrying some affordable collectable cameras, when I spotted a folding type model among the offerings for a mere $12! I was now the owner of a second Polaroid pack film camera - a model 440! 

Plastic fantastic?  The Polaroid 440 isn't on the very top of the list of desirable Polaroid models, but finishes strong with its glass lens and adjustable aperture.

My enthusiasm for the Colorpack was still quite strong, but given that I was in the area, and knew this store was one of the best in which to find such a thing, it made complete sense to grab this while my logistics allowed, so as to give a try to a model with a touch more in the way of user features and adjustability.  Admittedly, I hadn't quite vetted the 440 in relation to other models in the pack film line up, but it looked to offer a decent bit of features.  I had no idea of its functionality, but if worse came to worse, it would make an interesting display piece.

Late to the (Polaroid) Party: The Colorpack II

I'm not necessarily known as being an "early adopter" among consumers.  I barely have 3 Blu-ray discs in my collection, don't fully know how to use my Play Station 3, and plunk away on computers made before Barack Obama took office.  I'm hardly one who is ahead of the technological curve any more.

And then there is my penchant for film cameras.  While I'm sure Kodak, Fuji, and Ilford are glad to have my film related business, I'd imagine the folks at Canon, Nikon, Sony, or Olympus might be disappointed that I'm not quite the gear head who must upgrade to the newest models of their hardware each year.

And yet, even within my odd niche, I can be well behind the curve as well.  In this case, it has led me to barely grab hold of the irons as the last train is leaving the station, and joining in the final passage of a journey that many in my hobby reflect upon with nostalgic sorrow, but for which I've been more or less blissfully unaware until just recently.

The story begins as I'm perusing some Craigslist ads only to stumble across one particularly interesting listing selling off a collection of various cameras and lenses.  The lot includes some new pickups from familiar makers like Nikon and Pentax, a few classic roll film models, and a pair of extras tossed in from a name familiar to nearly anyone who has even seen a physical photo taken in the last 50 years: Polaroid.

Ask the average non-camera collecting person about what Carl Zeiss, Voightlander, or Leica means to them and you are likely to be met with a blank stare, but chances are that same person should have a pretty decent idea about what a Polaroid entails, From its decades of innovation as a leader in the field of instant photography, the term "Polaroid" has largely come be synonymous with its genre.

At the same time, the term Polaroid has largely become synonymous with the term "Hipster," One need only review the lyrics to Demi Lovato's "Really Don't Care" to get the vibe of recent sentiment towards the caricature of those who partake in instant photography. Things certainly have changed in the decade plus where Outkast once popularized the phrase to "Shake it like a Polaroid."

So when this one camera fell into my lap with this single Craigslist transaction, I was excited, dismayed, and confused all at the same time.  You see, while I can not only find meaning to the names Carl Zeiss, Voightlander, and Leica, I also have a decent grasp of the history of these camera makers to have a basic idea of their product lines through the ages. Not so for Polaroid.

And to think that at one point, I was an enthusiastic user of one of their products: Polapan film, a really wonderful 35mm black and white slide film from the 80's and 90's that was "instantly" processed in a small crank-spun home processing unit to yield some lovely monochrome transparencies.  My enthusiasm for this product never once spilled over to me wanting to adopt any of Polaroid's "bread and butter" products in the field of instant print photography. Even getting back into the field of film photography beginning in 2014, I never once considered instant photography and what may have become of it.

The result was that the field of instant photography was one confusingly grey area for me Even if I'd stumble across an internet thread of news snippet on the field of instant photography, I never knew the breadth of what such news entailed.  One such snippet of news involved the discontinuance of Fuji Peel Apart Instant film FP-100C, and was met with significant dismay from the film photographic community.  As I'd never used such film, I had no idea of what the relevance of its discontinuance entailed.

Reading the articles about its discontinuance, and seeing its packaging as a Fuji "professional" product, my first thought was that it was used in medium and large format cameras with special "Polaroid" backs. or for older ID cameras, but not in any product that was in my typical sub-$20 price range.  Though I could feel empathy towards other film photographers losing a product, I'd never thought it would be a product that I'd have purchased.

But here I was picking up a Craigslist lot, consisting of a pair of Polaroid cameras: the "Big Swinger" and this camera: The Colorpack II.

Looking something like an oversized Instamatic, the Colorpack II is a sizable camera rife with the feel of the late 1960's and early 1970's.  The "kickstand" used for posing this camera is actually a diffuser for flash bulbs. 

While the rather awkwardly named "Big Swinger" did not use a currently available film, the Colorpack II uses the FP-100C that I'd presumed was simply a "professional" product.  Once I discovered this, I began to look forward to using the Polaroid more than the other cameras that were far more within my comfort zone.  And with this realization, my interest in cameras using this endangered film began to grow.  But more on that later.