A Breath of Fresh Air: The Airesflex Model U(T) TLR camera.

Though I have been familiar with their usage for the better part of 25 years, and have owned several, I can't say that TLR cameras have ever really been a mainstay of mine. Instead, these cameras have usually tended to supplement other types of cameras in my collection.  True, I've had occasions where TLR cameras were the ideal choice (at least on my budget) for specific projects such as portraiture and wedding photography, but I could never see where a TLR would be my primary photo taker given their bulk, shutter speed limitations, and the reversing of the image in the viewfinder.

All this negativity stated, did I mention that I love TLR cameras?  When it comes to a camera that delivers superb output and precisionate focusing onto a medium format negative at a modest price, nothing quite beats a TLR camera.

For the past couple of years, I'd been largely content to keep just two TLR cameras in my collection: namely the Seagull 4A-103 and the Yashica 12.  Both have rewarded me with some of my favorite images over the past three years, and are called upon periodically when I want to ensure that I can trust a camera to deliver excellent results.  I did have a little indiscretion last Spring when I picked up the Silverflex Model S, but was quickly dismayed by the results from that camera.

So with my TLR quota largely filled, one might wonder why I elected to purchase this one evening...

The Airesflex offers a basic, yet still somewhat elegant look to it, as an example of a well-built 1950's Japanese TLR camera. 

With a price tag of just $25 compared to a value that is at least three times that, I would think a more apt question would be "Why would I NOT add this camera to my collection.  It took mere seconds to arrive at the decision that the Airesflex would be coming home with me.

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.

Franka's Tower of Portable Power: The Tower 60

It was a purchase decision that took the better part of 2 minutes.  Spotted in a nearby antique mall was what seemed to be THE perfect camera to add to my collection.  A medium format folder with a fast and rather reputable f/2.9 lens AND a rangefinder.  Priced at $40 with a 20% discount, I gleefully raced up to the front desk to ask to see this camera to check its operability.

Shutter: check.  Rangefinder: check.  Folding and unfolding: check.  There was nothing whatsoever that I could detect as being of serious issue with this camera.  It was oddly parallel to several others in my collection, but having the working rangefinder was the perfect incentive to add the Tower 60 to my camera collection.

Franka made models seem to come past me with surprising regularity.  This one was was a very pleasant surprise. 

Though sold by Sears Roebuck, the Tower 60 was a product of Franka, the very same maker who made the Solida camera that is a beloved favorite of mine.  In fact, the Tower 60 is more or less a Solida Variant with different markings.  It is for all intents and purposes identical to the Franka Solida IIIE.  Equipped with the same Schnieder Radionar 80mm f/2.9 lens as my previous Solida cameras that I loved using wide open wherever possible, I wholeheartedly welcomed the ability to add a version with a rangefinder to ensure accurate distance measurement.  I was $32 poorer, but vastly enriched culturally.  

A Speedy Trip Back to 120: The Ansco Speedex

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.  

One Goodwin Turn Deserves Another - The Ansco No. 2A Goodwin

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

The Zenith of Quirk - The Comet Camera

Beginning in the late 1940's, Bencini of Milan Italy produced a number of uniquely designed 127 cameras under the "Comet" name, culminating with the very distinctive vertically situated Comet III of 1953 that remains today as a highly distinctive and desirable camera among collectors, fetching prices of over $100 on the collector market.

This review is however not of the Bencini Comet.  I may be a quirky guy with a camera but I am also a frugal guy with a family, so my likelihood of picking up a Bencini Comet are pretty slim.

However, I was fortunate enough to pick up a very distinctive 127 camera from the same era, also vertically oriented, and also bearing the Comet name, but made half a world away in the United States by Zenith Camera Corporation.

While a significant amount of American 127 cameras sold in the post war era tend to be of a nearly identical design consisting of using the "half-frame" 127 format and a fixed focus lens, the design of the Zenith Comet is completely distinct from these cameras, and features:

• Near full frame 127 images ranging between 55 and 60mm long.
• An adjustable aperture.
• Instantaneous and time exposure settings.
• A curved film plane.
• Adjustable focus from 4 feet to infinity.
• A uniquely inset viewfinder.

Fun with Film: Portra 160 Slowed Down

Sometimes a limit of choices is a good thing. 

I've never been terribly good with making quick purchasing decisions when confronted with something unpredictable, particularly that I hate going out to spend money for something only to not find it and having to settle for an alternative. 

Such was the case a few weeks ago, when, as I made my way up to the counter of my favorite Brick and Mortar photo store to buy a couple of rolls of Ektar 100 in 120, one of which I'd hoped to cut down to 127 to shoot through my Bell and Howell Electric Eye camera.  Turns out, they were out of Ektar.  

"I've got Portra 160" stated the shop owner.  Hmm, I figured this trip was a total bust since I try to shoot brighly colored landscapes instead of portraits with restrained saturation, but since time was ticking for me to do my photo run, and since I always like to support my local stores, I elected to pick up a couple of rolls to give it a try anyway.

However, the Bell and Howell is not geared for the speed of 160 and tips the scales at about ISO 80. I knew this going in, but hoped that the one stop speed increase wouldn't present too much of an issue. Upon reading a bit of reviews of Portra, I surprised to see that more than a few people said they had their best results with color saturation with the stuff at speeds between 50 and 100. As it turned out, my gamble might actually pay off.

I cut down the roll of 127 film, loaded up the Bell and Howell and went out shooting during lunch on a photo perfect day of lightly cloudy blue skies.  I didn't spend a great deal of time composing, but rather sought out colorful scenes to put this "saturated Portra" idea to the test.  Upon developing and scanning, I was delighted to see that Portra is indeed a great and colorful film when given a stop of extra exposure.

Under blue skies but shadows, Portra delivered a nice palette of colors, but its real saturated strengths emerged...