Me and my Cameras
Cameras and their
accessories have a unique fascination; photography can be a rewarding hobby
without ever taking a picture. And a viewfinder can give a special,
comfortingly rose-tinted perspective on the world. With me, the bug bit early, and has lasted a lifetime.
[Left] is a self-portrait, at 14, in the hall mirror with the family Ensign-Selfix.
Agfa Silette 1 & Adox Golf 1A
My
first camera (left), an Agfa Silette 1 was received as a present. It felt chunky
but had little else going for it. A year later
I
traded it in for the Adox Golf (right) which was also all-manual, but at least had a suspended-frame viewfinder, which made composition
a little easier, and a shutter release on the top plate which enabled the
camera to be gripped firmly at the moment of exposure.
These entry-level 35mm cameras demanded much of the photographer. Focussing
distance had to be guessed or measured with a separate rangefinder, exposure
measured using a
separate meter. Both gadgets lived in
little leather cases attached to the camera strap. Each in turn was clipped
into the camera's accessory shoe, readings taken, and settings made. When
the picture was finally taken, the second gadget was removed so the camera's
ever-ready case could be closed.
It was unconductive to picture-taking in time-critical situations, to say
the least. "Never-ready" was a more appropriate term.
Konica Auto S2
The Adox was replaced
in 1966 by a Konica Auto S2. At last I had a camera with a coupled
rangefinder and built-in exposure meter, with AE exposure to boot.
With these mod cons, setting time was speeded dramatically, focussing
being done with a flick of a finger.
My equipment in 1967 (right): Adox & clip-on accessories, Konica Auto S2, Hanomat projector, etc. against a solid wall of "Amateur Photographer". Wish I still had those!
The
Konica did sterling service but its fixed lens and 3' minimum focussing
distance were restrictive. It was to be superseded, in 1970, by an SLR.
The
Canon EXee was uniquely affordable, expecially bought as a kit of
camera and
four semi-interchangeable lenses - 35mm, 50mm, 95mm and 125mm. None were actually very good (see Classic
Camera
Collection) but I was at least able, using a +1, +2 or +3 dioptre (or
all three at once!) supplementary lens, to take close-ups and at last freed of the frustrating restrictions of a
fixed lens.
The whole outfit was carried around in a rigid-sided Dixons holdall (right) adapted to hold the camera body, a tripod, 35mm, 50mm and 95mm lenses, lens hoods, electronic flash, extension cable and shoe, filters, close-up lenses and a spare film canister. A veritable 3-dimensional jigsaw! Only the 125mm lens would not fit inside and was carried in its own case attached to the strap.
Leica M2
The Canon was joined, briefly, by a tired, third-hand Leica M2 with a folding f2.8
Elmar and dysfunctional clip-on meter. Compared to the Leica, the
Konica and Canon sounded and felt like Elastoplast tins, but the M2 offered
few practical benefits. I wish I had kept
it! Black Leica bodies (even when the brass is showing
through) are very rare, and currently fetch over £3,000. I
sold mine (with lens and meter) for £120!
A time
came to buy a decent SLR with true interchangeable lenses. In 1975, of the
SLRs then available, only two offered AE exposure (shutter priority
automatic, for me de rigueur) - the Canon EF and the Konica Autoreflex T3. Canon
then used an odd, breech-lock lens mount, precluding bayonet-storage in
a gadget bag, so the Konica it had to be.A modified cine-camera case (bottom, left) custom-padded and lined, bayonet caps glued to the inside, serendipitously held the T3, three lenses and a stack of close-up supplementaries without a millimetre to spare.
Konica's Hexanon/Hexar marque were quality lenses, and my collection eventually included the 21mm f2.8, 28mm f3.5, 35mm f2.8, 50mm f1.7, and 2 Vivitars - 100mm f2.8 and 17mm f3.5, the latter bought specially to photograph Hardraw Force in Yorkshire from behind (below). The most-used was the very fine 35mm.
By
then I had a darkroom, and the T3 was supplemented by a TC body to allow
concurrent taking of slides and negatives. A larger, rigid-sided gadget
case (right) was adapted to accommodate the 2 bodies, six lenses plus
numerous filters - skylight, polarising, yellow-green, orange and red. The
weight of it all, counter-balanced by a massive Vivitar tripod, has left a sag in my shoulder to this day! The arrangement
allowed any lens to be fitted to either body without disturbing any other,
without putting the case down. Picture taking, once again, demanded dexterity. Unless the right body happened to be fitted with the right lens and filter for the subject, the taking procedure was: 1) Extract required body from case 2) Remove fitted lens (the Konica bayonet mount, fortunately, allowed this to be done one-handed) and place it loose in case 3) Remove required lens from bayonet cap and fit to camera 4) Fit displaced lens on vacated bayonet cap 5) Unscrew filter from fitted lens and place loose in case 6) Unscrew required filter from other lens in case and screw onto fitted lens 7) Fit displaced filter onto other lens 8) Close case and compose picture. (If the wrong lens has been chosen, repeat steps 1-8) 9) Take picture. (If at stage 3, the required lens was fitted to the other body, an extra step 3a - Extract other body - was involved). To take the same shot on both slide and B/W, in five further steps, switch lenses between Body A and Body B, fit a filter appropriate for the film type, and expose.
Ironically,
the Canon alone offered a bayonet filter system which would have reduced
some of the wrist rotation.The trusty old T3 was to have 17 years of continuous use. When the TTL meters in both the T3 and the TC finally failed, a motor-driven FT1 body was bought - a lucky find, as by 1992 Konica SLRs were long extinct.
By the 1990's, enthusiasm having waned, I no longer took either black and white work or slides, only colour enprints, for which just the FT1 body and a cheap Sigma 28-70mm zoom lens sufficed. A retrograde step, image quality-wise, but after all the erstwhile juggling with lenses, a zoom was a boon.
Finding
even the above a burden to carry for my occasional, glorified snapshotting,
I became tempted by the pocket-sized cameras then available with zooms of
similar range to the Sigma. I bought one, a Minolta 70W, ostensibly as a
present for my girlfriend, but found that cameras of this type and price
were designed for amusement only. The Contax
TVS, in contrast, had inter alia a titanium body and a Zeiss lens capable of
exposures equal to a good SLR.It proved even more successful than expected. Where and when a larger camera would be left behind, the TVS was carried, and produced many prized pictures, impromptu, unplanned and unanticipated. It was heavy for its size but tough! Accidentally left on a radiator once, the body became too hot to touch, yet camera and film survived undamaged.
Contax N1
My
enthusiasm was re-fired by the TVS, but a compact camera, however good, has
its limitations, as does an old SLR with a cheap zoom. I still used the
Konica in Springtime for 'flowers-in-the-foreground" pictures, but SLRs
and lenses had come a long way since it was made. I particularly needed a
wider-angle zoom, but was lukewarm on autofocus.
The Contax N1 was chosen mainly for its lens, the class-leading Vario-Sonnar
24-85mm, and for its unique auto-manual focussing system - as well as the
usual autofocus modes, the N1 can be precisely focussed manually, or
semi-automatically by pressing a button.
The lens
performance is achieved, partly, by not compromising the design to
save weight or size - the lens is simply huge, taking 82mm filters.
Its sheer mass of the lens and comfortable grip of the rounded body allow
hand-held shots in dim light even at 85mm. Just hold a Contax! Its seductive tactile feel encourages film
profligacy - one is reluctant to put it down!
http://www.dooyoo.co.uk/electronics/cameras/contax_n1/_review_list/