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.

Comically Candid: The Cardinal Cinex 127 Camera

Ten Dollars.  Some might say I paid too much. I can't say I'd argue that, but for a bit of photographic fun, I'd say the price was about right.

I've happened upon some excellent deals in the sub $20 range for vintage cameras: the small and capable Yashica Electro 35MC, the handy Kodak Retinettes, the amazing Konica Auto S2, the classic Kodak Autographic 1A, and the fun Bell and Howell Electric Eye are just some of the great camera bargains that I have already featured, and there are still more to come.

But the camera featured here lacks the aperture priority of the Yashica, the range of settings of the Retinettes, the great glass lens of the Auto S2, the huge negative size of the Autographic, and the neat meter of the Electric Eye.   But I knew all this going in. 

This is about as bare-boned a camera as there is. Behold, the Cinex 127.

You too can have a "real" camera if you save up enough comics! 

Mighty Mini: The Yashica Electro 35 MC

Flea Markets can be an awesome thing, particularly when you find something unexpected that you never knew existed.  

It was my first (of since many) trips to the Feagaville Indoor Flea Market, and while my wife was more interested in seeing what salvageable furniture there was to be had, I simply had to look in the booth aisles of assorted odds and ends in hopes that I might find something of photographic use amid the clutter of decorative salt shakers and other assorted bits of bric-a-brac.  

While a few odd bits of photographic goodies could be found, one in particular jumped out at me as being of particular interest, even though I had little knowledge of just what it was, or even if it was any good.  I simply did a quick test of the shutter snapping, as well as a quick swivel of the focusing collar to confirm that it was in at least some semblance of working condition, and quickly paid for it. It wasn't a tough decision given that it was selling for a mere $15.  And within 5 minutes, I was now the owner of a Yashica Electro 35MC.

The Mighty-Mini: the Yashica Electro 35MC.

k week holder

COLUMBUS AVE TRAIN STATION, BRONX NY

Boston, MA 11/30/1941

CO - Nov 1960

Baby Billy: The Agfa Billy 0

And this is why the resistance was futile!  Finally, a "prequel" to my Boxy Beasts of 127 article to explain how I finally adopted the 127 film format. 

From all perspectives, it was my "final frontier" of the world of roll film.  I'd dived back into 120 film and had finally conceded to add 135 film back into my stable of adopted film formats.  Later, I would come to willingly work with the potential for bigger negatives by using 116 and 122 film, and finally (or so it seemed), I had worked out the gremlins that would allow me to readily and easily use a modified 120 film to stock an increasing brigade of 828 cameras. But there was one other roll film format that I'd been hesitant to touch, despite it having a wealth of both quirk and interesting history - 127.

In fact, as I took inventory of the various film formats in the earliest days of this blog, I even noted specifically "You'd think a niche like this would be perfect for a quirky guy with a camera, but I've never really been swayed by the lure." Even as I got comfy with 828 (particularly "making" the film stock), I couldn't picture adopting the curiousness that was 127 format.  It didn't help that even when I entertained the idea of trying out the format, the cameras I would typically see available for sale either had disappointingly dumbed down feature sets or exorbitantly expensive "collector" price tags.  While it was hardly a priority with me, I did keep the idea of a 127 acquisition in my occasional sights provided I could find a decently featured camera available at a reasonable price.  And if said camera took advantage of the largest 127 format of 6.5 x 4.0 cm, it would really offer an incentive to give 127 a try.

Unexpectedly, two such cameras came into my sights. One was an Ansco Vest Pocket with a folding strut mechanism that began to make me think I had found my gateway into 127. Further browsing however would help me truly find a 127 camera perfect for me: the gorgeous Agfa Billy 0. 

In my humble opinion, one of the loveliest folding cameras there ever was - The Agfa Billy 0