Film Fun Folio #27: Kodak Bantam Flash and Rollei Infrared 400

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 #27:

Camera: ca. 1948 Kodak Bantam Flash with 48mm/f4.5 Anastar Lens.

Film: Rollei 400 Infrared

Locale: Frederick, MD.
First, let me be perfectly clear, Rollei does NOT make it's Infrared film in 828 format, but thanks to my methods, I quickly made a roll of 828 stock from a roll of 120 stock and dark loaded it into the Bantam Flash.  I took a first shot as Spring blossomed, and then the camera and film just sat, week after week, seeing no action whatsoever, until I just so happened to bring it along on a lovely day, and had about 20 spare minutes to shoot it in one shot as I strolled near Baker Park in Downtown Frederick.  Nearly all of the shots were tripod taken under an approximate EI of 12, which in this case meant a typical shutter speed of 1/50, and an aperture of f/8, (or 1/25 with an f/11 aperture) which as it turns out was usually decent enough to get a workable shot while holding the R72 over the lens.  

I hadn't quite worked out my filter holding method for this first shot. 

Square Shooter - Part II - Shooting 24mm shots on the Bantam RF

I have a tendency to like to interject idioms or expressions into my postings, and in this case, I feel the need to do a common intro theme to what is a natural pair of postings with the following theme: An Opportunity Lost is An Opportunity Gained.

Most hobby photographers (and many pros) are often well aware of the phenomenon known as GAS, or "Gear Acquisition Syndrome."  It's a tendency to want to constantly add to your inventory of photographic items, either with new cameras, new lenses, or even new accessories.  Even on a greatly reduced budget such as mine, there are cheap opportunities to add to one's collection.

When I first saw results on Lance Rothstein's "labeauratoire"site from the square format 35mm shooter known as the Minolta 24 Rapid, I had a lot of interest in picking one up when the opportunity might present itself.  However, due to some reluctance after a few too many bad rangefinder acquisitions, I dragged my feet when a cheap example popped up for sale, and someone else beat me to it.

Perusing the interwebs for other possibilities, I came across a striking suggestion to MAKE a square format camera from an 828 body.  As a huge fan of 828, the idea certainly struck a chord with me, and with some help from my buddy Mark at the Gas House, I managed to install a pair of varied mods to make this interesting idea a reality.  Each of these concepts has some uniqueness, and both have some advantages over the other. 

Have a look at this "creation" of a square shooter.

While it seems as though I've been shooting 828 cameras forever, the reality is that I've only been creating decent images from them for about 6 months.  Still, I've shot a decent amount in this 28x40mm format.  And while the film is no longer commercially produced, I'd yet to use the most common method to improvise 828 film, namely to tape 35mm film to an 828 backing, instead electing to mostly use cut down 120 stock, supplemented at times by expired "true" 828 stock.

Square Shooter - Part I - The Bantam Flash "282" Folding Camera

I have a tendency to like to interject idioms or expressions into my postings, and in this case, I feel the need to do a common intro theme to what is a natural pair of postings with the following theme: An Opportunity Lost is An Opportunity Gained.

Most hobby photographers (and many pros) are often well aware of the phenomenon known as GAS, or "Gear Acquisition Syndrome."  It's a tendency to want to constantly add to your inventory of photographic items, either with new cameras, new lenses, or even new accessories.  Even on a greatly reduced budget such as mine, there are cheap opportunities to add to one's collection.

When I first saw results on Lance Rothstein's "labeauratoire"site from the square format 35mm shooter known as the Minolta 24 Rapid, I had a lot of interest in picking one up when the opportunity might present itself.  However, due to some reluctance after a few too many bad rangefinder acquisitions, I dragged my feet when a cheap example popped up for sale, and someone else beat me to it.

Perusing the interwebs for other possibilities, I came across a striking suggestion to MAKE a square format camera from an 828 body.  As a huge fan of 828, the idea certainly struck a chord with me, and with some help from my buddy Mark at the Gas House, I managed to install a pair of varied mods to make this interesting idea a reality.  Each of these concepts has some uniqueness, and both have some advantages over the other.  

Have a look at this "creation" of a square shooter.

The 282 camera never really existed, but after "creating" one with only a minimal amount of effort, I'm at something at a loss in wondering why it didn't.

Fun with Film: Konica Impresa 50

Sometimes it is just nice to take things slow. 

Whenever I get the chance, I like to take things slow.  I have tended to actively seek out slower speed films in the hopes of getting results with minimal grain, the chance to limit depth of field in many instances, and in the case of color films, the hopeful opportunity to optimize color saturation and fidelity.

The problem is that in recent years, there are VERY few slow speed (under ISO 100) films available, particularly in color.  Velvia 50 and Cinestill 50D are about the entirety of the selection of slow speed color films available at present.  The slight silver lining to this is that slower speed films generally tend to remain more stable than their faster brethren.  I had fantastic luck with my first try with some expired Agfa Ultra 50, so I began looking for other slow speed color films with which to try my hand. Ultimately, I found a small quantity of some 15 year old Konica Impresa 50 that piqued my interest, and I picked up a few rolls on the hopes that it had remained stable. 

I'd never had the chance to try Impresa 50 when it was available in the late 1990's.  Not only was I shooting mostly color slides at the time, but I also never recall seeing it available at retail, despite reading of its introduction in photo magazines at the time.  I didn't recall what its main selling point was when I snapped up the film, and hoped for results with color saturation a notch above the typical 100 speed films. 

As it turns out, unlike Ultra 50 or Velvia 50, color saturation was not the hallmark of Impresa 50. Instead, it's selling point was a fine grain.  Still, I cut a roll down to "extended 828" size for some test shots in some sunny  Maine weather and hoped to see some decent results, though I had no idea what to expect.

I sent the film off for negative developing only, and the results that returned looked really pretty thin, which dashed most of my hopes for some really snappy color from the long-discontinued film.  Still, the film scanned with no real issues, aside from some severe color shifting towards the cooler end of the spectrum.  Sometimes I feel like I'd have more luck flying a biplane than steering a color shifted image towards neutrality, but I tried my best. Even the "auto" feature on Photoshop had challenges with the scans, so I didn't feel so bad.  The final results, good, and not so much, are laid out below. 

 My first image from Impresa 50 shows a definite lack of contrast and color, and the promoted fine grain seems to be lacking as well.

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.

Box Camera Deluxe or TLR Lite - Part II - The Argoflex Forty

Variety is the spice of life in the world of medium format film photography. There are capably crafted SLR bodies as well as handy portable folding cameras.  There are timeless and treasured TLR cameras and basic budget-conscious box cameras. And then there are the interesting animals that tend to eschew the classifications above. They are neither truly TLR nor box camera, yet in some ways they are both of these.

Often referred to as "Pseudo-TLR Cameras," I tend to prefer a tad more delineation of the genre's nomenclature to the include the more depictive terms "Box Camera Deluxe" and "TLR Lite."

And what is interesting is that despite one these terms seeming to sound more derogatory than the other, you will find that this is hardly so.  I picked up an example of both of these sub-genres, each costing under $20, and am posting simultaneous reviews of each for your reading and viewing pleasure.

Resistance was Rediculous.

First things first: I LOATHE the 620 film format. Kodak's "idea" to create a "new" format identical in size to 120 but with a spool that can only fit in a 620 camera is just the sort of propietary format decision that I hate.

I am not opposed to reinvention and innovation. I can really like a "reinvented" format like 828 that, despite a film stock width identical to 35mm, offers benefits in both a measurably larger image size and a smaller form factor than the 35mm thanks to the smaller film rolls.  But I saw no such benefit from 620, so I elected to swear it off, both on the matter of stubborn principle, and so that I didn't have to stock film rolls in both formats, one of which was technically obsolete.

But my resistance turned out to be rediculous, as I began to trod down a slippery slope of which I was not even aware. And that slope's name was Verichrome Pan.

Verichrome Pan should certainly be among the contenders for the top three Kodak films of all time. Devised in 1956 as a successor to Orthochromatic Verichrome, and as the alternate to Plus-X in all formats larger than 35mm, the film had a tendency to be very gracious with regards to exposure latitude, which made it the easiest film to use in a range of cameras that were not the most technologically advanced.

Despite not being made for decades, the film also has a serious reverence among many present day film photographers who are able to shoot and develop Verichrome that is 50 years or older and still manage some amazing images.  I was first amazed by VP on one of my Autographic experiments and have kept an eye out for affordable stocks of this phenomenal film.  I have picked up this excellent film in the 828, 120, 116, 122, and 127 formats... and in 620.

That's right, 620. While I would concentrate on snapping it up in the formats for which I had cameras, it was seeming as though I was always spotting Verichrome at great prices in 620 format. Since I could still easily cut down the film to other formats or re-roll it onto 120 spools, it made perfect sense to add it to the stable. And then I one day realized I had a lot of 620 film. Conundrum.

I realized that my self imposed moratorium on 620 cameras maybe, just maybe, needed to have an exception made.  Besides, the person who collects old cameras will often willingly look for any excuse to add a new piece to their collection, and I could hardly claim that I was any different from most vintage camera collectors.

I didn't give a massive amount of thought to just what camera would constitute the "620 section" of my collection, other than to determine that I likely wanted to skip folding cameras, since I had plenty in 120. Instead, I wanted to get a camera that was essentially made only in 620, and initially figured I might pick up what just might constitute the "trademark" 620 camera: the Brownie Hawkeye. It was a neat looking camera that clearly echoed its mid-century origins, but there was one ethical problem I had with it, it was a Kodak product, the very Kodak whose "innovation" led to the creation of this rediculous format of 620 in the first place. Conundrum again.

Sure, I had a number of Kodak cameras that I savored, and obviously, my pickup of a used Hawkeye wasn't sending money into Eastman Kodak's pockets, so there would be no deposit that would signal that I was OK with Kodak making a bogus new format, given that this happened over half a century ago, and 620 had since bowed out with 120 remaining. But the hapless rebel in me still resisted a Kodak 620 pickup, and kept my eyes open for something else unique to 620.

As it turns out, I wouldn't have to look for long, as I soon spotted the perfect 620 pickup, made by none other than Argus.

While bearing some resemblance to a TLR, the basic operation of the Argoflex Forty is a bit more similar to a box camera. 

Box Camera Deluxe or TLR Lite - Part I - The Silverflex Model S

Variety is the spice of life in the world of medium format film photography. There are capably crafted SLR bodies as well as handy portable folding cameras.  There are timeless and treasured TLR cameras and basic budget-conscious box cameras. And then there are the interesting animals that tend to eschew the classifications above. They are neither truly TLR nor box camera, yet in some ways they are both of these.

Often referred to as "Pseudo-TLR Cameras," I tend to prefer a tad more delineation of the genre's nomenclature to the include the more depictive terms "Box Camera Deluxe" and "TLR Lite."

And what is interesting is that despite one these terms seeming to sound more derogatory than the other, you will find that this is hardly so.  I picked up an example of both of these sub-genres, each costing under $20, and am posting simultaneous reviews of each for your reading and viewing pleasure.

There is a saying dating back nearly 500 years that states, more or less, never to look a gift horse in the mouth. The saying still persists today as a means of emphasizing not to expect something for nothing, or alternatively, that you get what you pay for. There is a great degree of truth in this saying, but the hopeful thought is that there will, at times, be exceptions to this rule.

Even in this era when film photography has been largely relegated as a niche market, and in which  bargains persist wherein one can pick up some excellent models of SLR and Rangefinder cameras for under $20, some camera styles are still quite elusive below price points many times this nominal price. Medium format TLR cameras are a tough find under $50, leaving the person seeking an affordable 120 camera to consider folding cameras for their low cost option for medium format.

So when I happened upon a listing for a pretty looking but otherwise unknown TLR came up, I was quite surprised to see a sub $15 bid take it. I hadn't been looking for an additional TLR, but I was not going to balk at one, particularly one this pretty. Even if the camera turned out to be a lost cause,  the risk was certainly minimal. Besides, this camera was pretty enough to make for a lovely shelf queen if I so chose, though I certainly hoped that would not be the case. Either I would be expressing modest lament at this near gift horse, or I would be happy exclaiming "Hi Ho Silver."  Did I have a Gift Gelding or Gifted Galloper?  

I would soon discover that this camera, the Silverflex, was a variant of the Ricohflex, which seems to be a near twin.  The few write-ups I could find regarding the Silverflex referred to it as largely as a budget version of an already budget camera.  Interesting. 

The Silverflex certainly seems to borrow more from the TLR design to its right.