Classic Camera Collection

Part 1:   Cameras I Owned and Used

Part 1 of my collection consists of the cameras I used between 1962 and 2001 (see Me and my Cameras). The ones marked with an asterisk are the actual cameras which have remained in my posession; the others are identical replacements for those which, in the short-sighted folly of youth, I sold.

Agfa Silette 1 (1962)

My first, and worst, camera.  Although sophisticated and advanced compared with the Brownies of its time, these all-manual entry-level 35mm cameras demanded much of the unskilled user - the correct exposure, focus and flash settings had to be known (by some paranormal judgemental ability) or determined laboriously by use of external calculators, rangefinders or meters. Failure rates, inevitably, were high.  Picture composition within the indeterminate boundries of its frameless viewfinder was near-guesswork, and shake-free exposures difficult with the awkward, long-throw shutter release. 

Verdict?  The sort of camera which turned a whole generation off photography as a hobby.  (Shown with clip-on accessory Watameter rangefinder).

*Adox Golf 1A (1963)

The Golf 1a (Adox was a German maker better known for film) with its unusual all-plastic body was an avant garde at the lightweight end of the 35mm camera market. 

With a 45mm 2.8 lens and 3-speed shutter, its specification was sparce, but with its bright-frame viewfinder it was more usable than the Agfa and it took quite presentable slides. 

This is the actual camera I bought new in 1963 and it still proudly bears the gold Wallace Heaton sticker and clip-on Copal CDS exposure meter.

Konica Auto S2 (1966)
Fixed-lens 35mm rangefinder cameras with built-in meters were the mid-market norm in the mid-1960's, and the Auto S2 was the best of the breed, and at £36, a bargain.

Focussing was precise and lightning-fast, done by flicking a knob with the fingers of the left hand, and the CDS meter cell, advanced for its time, was positioned immediately above the lens, protected by retractable built-in lens hood, behind any filter fitted.  With its accurate shutter priority AE exposure and very sharp 45mm f1.8 lens, the Konica was quick, convenient and produced consistently good results.

Canon EXee (1970)

The Canon EXee was a sui generis budget SLR, and optically and mechanically mediocre.  Cheapest is seldom the best buy!  It came, optionally, as a complete kit of camera and four lenses. These were not true interchangeable lenses, but screw-in front element groups, with effective focal lengths of 35mm, 50mm, 95mm and 125mm.  The rear element group was fixed and remained in the camera.  The design concept, to make a compact outfit, held good for the petite 35mm and 50mm lens groups (bottom right and left), but not for the 95mm and massive f3.5 125mm telephoto (on camera) which carries the same 72mm filter thread as Canon's 50mm f0.95 lens.

Among its faults (the instruction book gave no hint of this) was that the effective aperture of the in-body diaphragm differed with the lens fitted, and unless the film speed setting were adjusted to compensate, shots taken with the 125mm were nearly a stop overexposed (this was corrected in the later EX Auto model).  Also, the narrow focussing helix inside the fixed lens mount was adequate for the small lens groups, but under the near 1lb weight of the 125mm, it quickly wore and developed serious backlash.

In its favour, it was compact and the unusual clear-glass focussing screen and bright viewfinder image, TTL metering and AE exposure made it quick and easy to use. 

*Konica Autoreflex T3 (1975)
In 1975, there were only two interchangeable lens SLRs with shutter-priority AE exposure - the Canon EF and the Konica Autoreflex T3. 

The Konica body had similarities to the Nikkormat and the quality of Konica's Hexanon/Hexar lenses was comparable to Nikon's, and the Konica bayonet (unlike its rivals) allowed quick, one-handed lens changes. 

Although priced very competitively, the marque never achieved the same market penetration as Nikon, Canon, Pentax or Olympus and Konica SLRs became extinct by the late 1980's.

*Konica Autoreflex TC (1977)

An 'economy' version of the Autoreflex T4, the controversial successor to the T3. 

The Konica T4 and TC were more compact and lighter than the older T3, and felt a little plasticy in comparison, but they had brighter viewfinders and worked very well.

*Konica FT1 (1983)

Konica's final SLR.  Unlike the T Series, it had motorised film transport, and LEDs, rather than a needle indicated the AE exposure in the viewfinder.  A smooth, ergonomic design, but perhaps lacking the robustness of a professional-grade camera.

Part 2

1960's Cameras which I Worshipped from Afar

There were other, completely unaffordable cameras which I ardently desired as a young teenager, but had to be content to worship through plate glass or the Amateur Photographer or the Wallace Heaton Blue Book, the latter, for me, a personal bible. 

1960's cameras represent the pinnacle of an art form.  Demands for sophisticated and automatic features from a competitive amateur market were met by great mechanical ingenuity and skill, and cameras had become extraordinarily complex.  Modern cameras, with the benefits of electronics, work better, are more reliable, more ergonomic (electromagnetic shutter releases, alone, transformed design by allowing the button to be placed where the index finger naturally falls) and in real terms, much cheaper.  But they are not as interesting as their 1960's ancestors, the best of which were masterpieces of mechanical jewellery.

Delayed gratification is a compensation of middle-age, and I have recently acquired all the cameras that I had wanted.  As each arrived, and I actually held it and put it to my eye, it was like marrying a film star, albeit from another era.  I only wish I could revisit the times and places where, in my youth, I fantasised about using them.

Topcon RE Super (1964)

In 1964 the RE Super was well ahead of its time and rival makes and remained so for several years, and outshone them in visual appeal.  For the full story, see Topcon.  Its glamour went beyond its looks; it was a quality product and a robust workhorse for many an American professional.

I have only the "standard" 58mm lens. Not very versatile, but the focal length suits certain subjects (far right), and the wide f1.4 maximum aperture others (above).

The verdict?  The pioneering TTL metering works brilliantly.  Its only drawbacks were its antiquated Exacta lens mount and front-of-body shutter release, which compromises right-hand grip.

Nikon F Photomic (1965)

I never saw a Topcon "in the flesh"; not so the Nikon F Photomic, which in and around 1965 graced many a camera shop window.  To me, "The man behind the Nikon" was equal to James Bond.

In my aspirations I placed as much importance to its appearance as a modern teenager does to her mobile telephone's, and worried that with its overhanging Photomic head, the Nikon looked emasculated with anything less than the 50mm f1.4 Nikkor standard lens. 

The verdict?  Like the Topcon, it does not fit in the hands like an ergonomic modern SLR, it's very heavy (1535 grams in its leather ERC), and lens-changing and exposure metering are awkward and slow.  But the Photomic meter is accurate enough, and that lens is sharp by any standard. 

(Right - Llangollen, December 2006).

Zeiss Contarex (1962)

Retailing at £246 4/- in 1962 (when the average wage was £20 PW) the Contarex was the "Queen of Cameras" and ideal for the man who had everything, including big muscles.

The original "Bullseye" Contarex had some curious design features. One of the pioneers of the instant-return mirror, the lens diaphragms are semi-automatic - viewing and focussing is at full aperture, but only when the shutter is cocked. The diaphragm closes to the pre-set aperture at the instant of exposure, but does not re-open until the film is advanced. This is not always obvious in practice because the cameras were fitted with a clear-glass focussing screen by default, which gives a very bright viewfinder image at all stops. The disadvantage of these screens is that, except in the centre where the focussing ring and split-image rangefinder are, the image is, to the eye, always in focus.

The lens has no aperture ring; only a rather stiff focussing ring with protruding lugs on each side. Exposure is set by centering a needle in the viewfinder by rotating a wheel on the camera body which adjusts the lens aperture. The wheel simultaneously operates a second diaphragm inside the meter, behind the baffle - a very roundabout way of coupling the meter. An advantage of the "Bullseye" is that it can also take incident-light readings - for this, the light baffle must be removed and the film-speed dial adjusted. A greater advantage, and still to this day unique for 35mm, were interchangeable film backs, shared with the Contaflex B. The f2 Planar focusses right down to 30cm, with automatic exposure increase provided.

Shutter speeds and film speed are set on overlapping dials surrounding the film advance lever. The dials interlock and prevent the setting of shutter speeds that fall outside the meter's operating range for a particular film speed. This means that with 400 ASA film, the slowest selectable speed is 1/30th second. The late Victor Blackman, who once borrowed a Contarex to try, definitely did not like this limitation! He thought the camera otherwise luxurious, although the shutter release needs a firm push.

The verdict? A magnificently-engineered doorstop. With its bulky awkwardness, slow focussing and the limitations of its metering system, it was a stout, crotchety old queen, and is best kept as a museum piece.

Canon 7 "Dream" (1964)

The Canon 7, a Leica M rival, was notable for its unique f0.95 standard lens. More than a stop faster than an f1.4, it was called the "Dream" lens because it supposedly admitted 4 times as much light as the human eye.

Arguably, in the early 1960's, there was a need for ultra-fast lenses. Colour film was slow (Kodachrome 1, the best slide film, was only 10 ASA) and moving subjects in low light were otherwise impossible to photograph.

For nearly 50 years, the "Dream" lens was the fastest (and most expensive) standard lens ever made, and only equalled for speed now by the new, aspherical Leitz M-mount 50mm f0.95. A drawback was its weight and huge diameter which, even without a lens hood, causes a 'blind spot' which hides a quarter of the viewfinder's field. Although the Canon 7 body has a Leica-screw lens mount (used by its other interchangeable lenses) for the f0.95 lens it needed a non-standard, auxiliary bayonet mount. The rangefinder spot is less clear than the Leica's, but the Canon's viewfinder has 35mm, 50mm, 85mm, 100mm and 135mm frames, selected manually.

The verdict? The Canon 7 was a fine, professional-quality rangefinder camera, but the f0.95 lens was more for show than serious use, as its sharpness wide-open was more nightmare than dream (right - 60th @ f0.95). But it was an unbeatable "Mine-is-faster-than-yours" status symbol, and today makes a highly collectable curiosity.

Beauty Lightomatic III (1963)

Early 60's cameras with built-in Selenium meters, especially those with dimpled glass baffles surrounding the lens, have a lapidary beauty.  Retailed exclusively in the UK by Dixons, the Lightomatic III cost just under £30. 

An unknown Japanese brand, from a retailer not known for the quality of its exclusive lines, nor for its after-sales service, was a dubious buy.  The Beauty's beauty was liable to be skin deep.

Nevertheless, the 46-year-old example I bought on eBay for the grand total of £5.50 works flawlessly - the f1.9 lens is razor sharp and contrasty, the coupled rangefinder dead-on, and the meter consistent. Even the flash synchronisation works.

The verdict?  Actually a very good camera.  Compact, quiet, pleasant to handle and convenient - everything that the Contarex, at 60 times the price, is not.  And the results from them are indistinguishable. 

(Right - Glastonbury Tor, August 2008, XP2, yellow-green filter).

Leica M2 (1960)
The Leica was glamorised (along with the early 1960's E-Type Jaguar) in "Man of the World", by association with Henri Cartier-Bresson and Frank Capa, but it already had ample cachet -  H.M. The Queen herself used (and still has) one.  The Leica world is one of near-fanatical devotees and collectors, perhaps with good reason.

The M2's designation is confusing.  It was actually introduced after the M3, and athough less expensive was more practical, having 35mm, 50mm and 90mm viewfinder frames.  The clip on selenium Leicameter, coupled to the shutter speed dial, agrees closely with the Weston Master, but readings cannot be taken with the camera to the eye, and hence the meter cannot be aimed accurately.

The verdict?  To this day, nothing quite matches the solidity and smoothness of a rangefinder Leica, and the best M-Series lenses (like the 50mm f2 Summicron, here) are still the sharpest lenses, especially at larger apertures, ever made for the 35mm format. This is partly due to their short backfocus design, a type of lens which can only be used on a non-reflex camera.  This, and the lack of a moving mirror, gives a rangefinder camera an advantage over an SLR for the majority of exposures, and enables it to produce the highest image quality in the format.  It's also more comfortable - the viewfinder can be used without squashing one's nose against the camera back.

 Werra Matic and Werra 3 (1963)

An unusual and elegant-looking camera, the Werra was ahead of its time. The higher-range models having interchangeable Zeiss lenses, this East-German marque was a poor-man's Leica, yet a quality one.  Different models had a split-image coupled rangefinder and/or a built-in exposure meter. The Werra 3 had a rangefinder only; the Werra Matic (left) was the top-of-the-range model and had both.

Its compactness, and svelte appearance (the top plate contains a recessed shutter release, accessory shoe and nothing else) is owed to its unique film advance - done by a quarter-turn of the broad ring surrounding the lens, possible with the camera to the eye.  The rewind crank is in the base plate.  Three lenses were available - 35mm, 50mm and 100mm (right, on Werra 3) which are secured in place by a neat breech-lock ring.  For the 50mm Tessar a reversible lens hood (left, on Werra Matic) doubles as a lens cap and protects the entire lens body. 

The diopter adjustable viewfinder shows the three frames, which unlike the Leica's, are visible simultaneously.  On the Werra Matic, shutter speeds and apertures are visible in a corner of the viewfinder through an ingenious periscope arrangement.

The verdict?  A very practical and seriously likeable camera.

Voigtlander Ultramatic (1962)

Another slight oddball, but a true German thoroughbred. The Ultramatic was one of the very first SLRs with an AE-coupled built-in meter.  It also had state-of-the-art (in 1963) features such as instant-return mirror and fully-automatic diaphragm, and shutter speeds and apertures visible in the viewfinder. No costs were cut in its design; when apertures are set manually, moving prongs indicate depth of field range on the distance scale. Retailing at £152 5s 9d with f2 Septon lens, it was expensive, but compared with the coeval Contarex, a bargain.

Less modern were its inherited Bessamatic lens mount and leaf shutter. This type of SLR (extinct by the late 1960's) were more complex than those with focal-plane shutters - to protect the film between exposures, the mirror frame had to be light-tight and, at exposure time, the leaf shutter had to open and shut twice.  Because of the long sequence of events initiated when the shutter release is pressed, the viewfinder blackout is around 1/8th second even at the fastest shutter speed.

I find front-of-body shutter releases, especially with vertical travel, awkward; the Ultramatic's at least is sensitive and the throw short.

 
The verdict?  Next to the Leica, the jewel in the crown of my collection.  Carved out of the solid, with its weight, the languid "kerflupp" of its exposure sequence and the long, slow stroke of the wind-on lever it has a leisured, old-aristocratic feel. Yet it is as simple a Brownie to use, and something to enjoy at leisure.

Minolta SR7 (1962)

Distinguished as the first SLR with a CDS light meter, and also by its looks - the Minolta SRs contended as the best-looking cameras of all time; their svelte curves made the coeval Nikons, Pentaxes and Canons look utilitarian. The satisfyingly large front element of the f1.4 "standard" lens was the gilding on the lily. But for general use this focal length was far too long (it was a manufacturing expediency; a 58mm lens was relatively easy to design). According to a standard maxim, a 45-55mm lens gave "the angle of view of the human eye" (with tunnel vision, perhaps - my eyes, which are normal, take in nearly 180 degrees). A generation of photographers must have struggled, constantly, to "get it all in". The cartoon of a photographer stepping further and further back until he falls off the edge of a cliff had a basis in truth.

Technically the SR7 was at the leading edge with a focal plane shutter, FAD and instant-return mirror, a bright microprism screen, mirror lock-up and a large-diameter bayonet lens mount a generation more advanced than the (even then) outdated lens mounts of its competitors.

Only in the metering method was it merely a camera of its time - the external built-in meter was coupled to the shutter speeds only, the recommended aperture displayed only in a window on the top plate.

The verdict? The Mohammed Ali of early '60's SLRs. It proved that a camera could be tough and effective yet pretty at the same time.

Kowa E (1962)

Another Dixons exclusive in the UK, and probably the first SLR to be aimed at the mass-market, and advertised with the catch-penny line: "Why speculate [sic]? Go and see the Kowa E now!"  Only the tinny and (seriously) oddball Mamiya Korvette SLR was cheaper.

Like the Voigtlander, the Kowa has a leaf shutter, but a centre-needle selenium meter and a fixed 50mm f2 lens. 

 
The verdict?  For a budget camera, the Kowa feels quite reassuring, and has a quality lens. Fixed-lens SLRs offered only one advantage over contemporary rangefinder cameras - a close-up capability with the use of supplementary lenses.  A focal length of say 40mm, rather than 50mm would have made it less restrictive for general use.

Kowa SE (1964)

Successor to the Kowa E, the main improvement being a CDS meter cell.

Nikkormat FTn (1969)

Launched in 1965, the Nikkormat FT (or at least its lapidary appearance in Nikon's glossy brochure) was irresistible.  The Nikkormat differed from the Nikon F in having a fixed prism, in-body TTL metering and the latest all-metal Copal Square shutter.  I seriously thought that my saved pocket money (supplemented by holiday-job wages) would afford its £157 price with f1.4 lens.  I told a respected family friend that I was getting one; at the time I really believed it.

The latter-day purchase was made, if nothing else, to vindicate my statement.  I did get one, albeit 43 years later. But not with the 50mm F1.4 lens (I already had one of those).  This one has a 55mm f3.5 Micro Nikkor, reputedly one of the sharpest lenses (even at infinity) ever made for the 35mm format, by dint of its modest maximum aperture and "easy" focal length - no optical compromises were necessary to provide either speed or mirror clearance.

The verdict?  The Nikkormat deserved its success.  Solid, precise, and ergonomic, it's the sort of camera one is reluctant to put down.  And compared with the Micro-Nikkor, razors and pins are blunt!

Konica C35

I nearly bought a C35 in 1970, when I had a Konica Auto S2.  Like most consumer choices, the desire to own outweighs any rational assessment of need or cost-effectiveness.  Reasons and justifications are made up afterwards.  In this case, the idea was to use both cameras concurrently - the C35, with its 38mm lens would serve as my wide-angle camera, and being pocket-sized, could be used alone, convenient for taking on rambles.

Luckily I didn't proceed with such an ill-thought plan.  Carrying two cameras, with two slide films on the go (which would never get finished together) would have been impractical, all for the slight difference of angle of view between a 38mm and 45mm lens.

The C35, nevertheless, was a popular camera and deservedly so.  Barely larger than a half-frame Olympus Pen, it had a coupled rangefinder, fully-automatic exposure, a full range of shutter speeds and lever-wind film advance.  An unusual and valuable feature was automatic exposure control with flash (this was before the days of thyristor flashguns); the flash/film guide number could be indexed and the correct aperture for the subject distance was set automatically as the lens was focussed.  The C35 even took a Leica-style "spectacle" close-up accessory.

This is a relatively rare black-bodied example dating from 1974.

This 6x6 Japanese rival to the Hasselblad C was technically a more advanced camera in having an instant-return mirror, and one of a unique design which dropped downwards at the moment of exposure. This enabled reflex viewing with wider-angle lenses because they could be positioned much closer to the mirror.

Bronica's Nikkor lenses were equal in quality to the Hasselblad's Zeiss optics, although (I am told by a retired camera repairer) that in build quality and reliability, the body was not. Its very complexity was a liability; on other SLRs, the mirror, in its 'up' position, prevents light from reaching the film through the viewfinder. The Bronica needed a special moving blind to do this.

The verdict?  Initially, waist-level reflex viewfinders take getting used to, as the (reversed) image moves in the opposite direction to the camera.  But the appropriate reaction soon becomes automatic, and with a square-format camera which never needs to be turned sideways, it is a very convenient way of viewing and composing both on a tripod and hand-held.  The heavy Bronica does not appear to be ergonomic, but resting against the chest, supported by the left hand with the right hand free to focus and fire the shutter, it is both comfortable and easy to hold steady.  Advancing the film, which takes several turns of the winding knob, is slower than on a 35mm camera, and it's loud!  The KLUMP on releasing the shutter will scare away all wildlife within 100 yards.

But, verily I say unto you, with a heavy tripod and fine-grained film, images from these cameras outclass even the best from 35mm in detail and tonal plasticity.  Compose to the 4:5 or 5:6 aspect ratio of traditional paper sizes, and little of the square negative is cropped or wasted, and perfect 10" x 12" prints can result.

Weston Master V (1964)

The 1964 version of the old British "Queen of exposure meters".  The Weston Master was so accurate that it was the universal benchmark by which other exposure meters, hand-held and built-in, were measured.  The Selenium cell Weston had no spot-metering capability or serious low-light sensitivity, and light measurement was done in two stages; the meter needle indicated an EV value which was set manually on a dial from which the exposure settings (in 1/3 stop increments) were then read.  But it came easy with practice, and its 180 degree invercone for incident light readings provided the most reliable metering method for reversal films available.

Part 3

Other 1960's (and one 1970's) Cameras in my Collection

Agfa Optima III S (1963)

I would never buy the ‘bottom-of-the-range’ model of anything. My first camera, an Agfa Silette I (see above), was given to me and was just that. Apart from making me feel botton-of-the-range, picture-taking was a slow, laborious and error-prone business.

Higher up Agfa's range were Sillettes and Optimas with suspended-frame viewfinders, built-in exposure meters and/or coupled rangefinders, and I craved for any of those things. The Optima IIIS had them all, with fully-automatic exposure. The original Optima, from the late 1950's, was the very first camera with automatic control of both shutter speeds and apertures. F-stops could also be set manually for flash. In automatic mode, no indication of settings was given, only a red/green flag in the viewfinder indicated whether light was sufficiently bright.

I would, however, have been unhappy even if I'd had this top-of-the-range model. Although vastly better than the Silette 1, it shared the same, awkward, front-of-body shutter release, which on the Optima (where it actualed the whole metering system) needed a long, hard push, making shake-free exposures difficult. Agfa cameras of this genre sold well in their day, but so did Ford Populars and Austin Allegros.

Voigtlander Vitomatic IIb (1963)

An uncle of mine, a moderately talented amateur, owned one of these in the early 1960's.  He considered that only a German camera was fitting for a photographer of his experience and class. Certainly, the Voigtlander  feels as solid and heavy as a Panzer tank.  With a coupled rangefinder and exposure meter, the Vitomatic IIa was the top model of Voigtlander' s rangefinder cameras.

I borrowed the camera, aged 14, when appointed 'official photographer' at my grandparents' golden wedding party, for which I also hired a massive Mecablitz electronic flash gun, the power unit of which has to be carried on the shoulder. Through my inexperience, the gear was more impressive than my pictures.

Leicaflex 'Standard' (1966)

There's nothing likea Leica.  This, Leica’s first SLR (not to be confused with the weird Visoflex attachment for its rangefinder cameras), had the same inimitable feel of solidity and precision as an M3, and with its sensuously curved body it set a new standard in ergonomic design. Visually, the asymmetric meter window and battery compartment cover reminded one of a well-known contemporary theme song  - “One eye open wide, one eye closed, and between the two the picture gets composed….”  It's certainly solid - with the standard lens, it weighs a hefty 1155 grams.  With only an external CDS meter, however, it lagged behind contemporary SLRs with TTL meters, but the semi-spot meter was coupled to shutter speeds and apertures in the best way, by far - the match needle system.

Unusually, the fixed focussing screen (apart from a large central microprism spot) was clear, producing a very bright viewfinder image, most of which is always in focus to the eye.

The Leicaflex, like its M-series stable mates, gained a strong following from its quality, feel and wonderful lenses, but was never widely adopted by professionals.

Asahi Pentax S1a (1962)

"Just hold a Pentax!" was the advertising slogan for this popular SLR.  With a cloth-blind focal-plane shutter, instant-return mirror and FAD lenses, it was, save for its lens mount, a modern camera, and keenly priced.

It does have a nice balance and feel, the shutter release is pleasantly light and sensitive, if the mirror does return with a loud 'clack', and a large microprism spot makes focussing easy in the spectacle-friendly viewfinder.  The S1a and its stablemate the SV differed only in their top shutter speed.  Exposure is manual; a bulky clip-on CDS meter was an optional accessory. 

Half-frame cameras were in vogue in the 1960s, and some predicted that, with their advantages of compactness, film economy and depth of field, they would eventually supercede full-frame 35mm. The films, in those days, were available in 20 and 36 exposure lengths giving, in practice, 44 or 75 half-frame exposures. To those graduating from 8-on-127 Brownies, it seemed a blessing.

The diminutive Olympus Pen EE was the most popular half-frame camera ever. With its lapidary selenium cell baffle surrounding the lens, it was a familiar sight in camera shop windows. The basic Pen EE, with automatic exposure, a single shutter speed and fixed-focus f3.5 lens was well-made, reliable and in good lighting conditions, foolproof to use. This example is a “Go Faster” EE-S model with a focussing f2.8 lens and two shutter speeds which like the aperture, were selected automatically. The bright-frame, portrait-orientated viewfinder was very clear but offered no exposure or focussing information. Usefully, the 30mm focal length (equivalent to 40mm full-frame) gave a semi-wide angle view.

By the 1970's the half frame format had had its day. Certainly they could produce good album-size prints and (projected on a small screen) very sharp colour slides. But for the more discerning, a good small image would always be beaten for quality by a good big one, and mass-market users, finding themselves with two Summer holidays and a Christmas on a still-unfinished roll of film, were better catered for by the new Instamatic format.

The eye-catching Dial 35 had unique user-appeal and made a good conversation piece.  Uniquely in a half-frame camera it offered motorised film transport and landscape format orientation when held upright..

But the Dial 35’s landmark features were more for show than go. The telephone-style ‘dial’ rotated when either the shutter speed (30th – 250th) or the film speed was set by the user, positioning one or other dial ‘lens’ (each had a different internal aperture) over the CDS cell. Neat, but flawed – because adjustments were in full-stop increments only, intermediate film speed settings could not be made. Canon fudged the issue by marking ASA ‘ranges’ on the dial, e.g. “100 - 125”, as though these numbers were equivalent. Films between ‘ranges’ - 40, 100, 180 or 320 ASA – would have to have been half a stop over- or under-exposed throughout. The 49mm filter mount allowed filters to cover the whole dial and meter cell.

Aperture setting was automatic, f-stops shown in the bright-frame viewfinder, with a manual override facility. The 28mm, 5-element f2.8 lens gave a useful field of view equivalent to 40mm on full-frame. Depth of field of was thought sufficient for zone-focussing only, which was effected with a lever above the lens barrel, the zone being indicated in the viewfinder. The clockwork motor, which also rewound the film, was wound up by turning the cylindrical handle. An accessory shoe was inset at the side of the body. For the semi-serious user, tripod and cable-release sockets were provided, but no “B” shutter setting.

The OM-1 caused a sensation when launched in 1973, because it represented a quantum leap in 35mm SLR design. It had a viewfinder image far larger and brighter than any other SLR, and a brand new, large-diameter lens mount (bigger is better, for many reasons), but what was truly amazing was that the OM-1was only two thirds of the size of other SLRs of its time.  It was introduced as a full system camera with motor drives, interchangeable focussing screens, a lockable, pneumatically-damped mirror, and a suite of high quality, very compact SMC lenses.  It was both advanced and refined.  Coevals, like the Canon AE-1, went "klack" when the shutter was fired.  The Olympus went "fluppp".  Although more robust than it appeared, it lacked some of the rugged features of other top-end cameras – the film back was unprotected against accidental opening, and its fixed prism limited its versatility.  The OM-1s TTL meter was coupled to a basic, centre-needle system;  AE exposure appeared only in the later OM-2.

Advertisements for the OM-1 system made much of its small size and weight.  A well-known itinerant professional endorsed it by declaring that he used a camera to build up his bank balance, not his muscles.  On his shoulder, a petite 'gadget bag', containing an OM-1 and a clutch of lenses, made the point - it was half the size of an equivalent Nikon outfit.  The propaganda worked; it brainwashed us amateurs into thinking that in a camera, compactness was all-important, and we began to see big, heavy SLRs like the Nikon F as archaic and risible.

But in reality the issue was not so clear-cut.  Cameras are to be used, and for serious photographers convenience in carrying them around is secondary.  Larger cameras fit better in the hands, their controls are further apart and hence less fiddly, and their weight makes them easier to hold steady.  This has been borne out by camera evolution; modern, professional DSLRs, like the Nikon D3 and the Canon EOS-1D, are massive.

Externally, the Canon Pellix looks much like other 35mm SLRs of its time, but internally it was very different, incorporating a radical innovation - a fixed, semi-transparent “pellicle” membrane between the lens and the film plane in place of the usual moving mirror. One-third of the light entering the camera was reflected upwards to the pentaprism and viewfinder. The advantage of a fixed mirror was that there was no blackout at the instant of exposure, no mirror noise or shock to cause camera shake, and that it allowed higher (up to 9ps) motor drive speeds.

The Pellix was also Canon’s first camera with TTL metering, using a ‘stop-down’ system - to centre the meter needle, the diaphragm was adjusted to the appropriate taking aperture, stopped down with a large lever on the front of the camera. Rival makes like Topcon offered more modern open-aperture TTL metering, but like Pentax and its Spotmatic, Canon was constrained in this by its legacy lens mount. When the meter was activated, the CDS cell moved into positioned in front of the film plane; this usefully provided semi-spot metering, the rectangular reading clearly indicated in the centre of the viewfinder.

Although there is no blackout when the shutter is released, there is a momentary flicker as the lens is stopped down, and even with its fixed mirror, the Pellix goes “Climp!” – little different from other SLRs.

In 1975, the contenders to replace my mediocre Canon EXee were the Konica Autoreflex T3 and the Canon EF, then the only interchangeable lens SLRs with shutter-priority AE exposure.  The Canon was significantly more expensive, had more features, and might have been slightly better than the T3; and it also had the advantage of proprietary bayonet-fit filters.  But the clincher for the Konica, was the lens mount - the Canon's breech-lock mount would have bayonet-storage in a rigid case difficult, and the body was too tall to fit in my cine case, right.

The EF is a reassuringly robust-feeling camera with mirror-lock, comprehensive viewfinder display, options for stop-down and AE metering and electronically-controlled slow shutter speeds up to 30 seconds, was the first automatic-exposure SLR from a mainstream manufacturer built for serious and professional use.

A rival to the Rolleiflex in the 1960's and 70's, the Mamiya TLR had an important difference - interchangeable lenses. Paired viewing and taking lenses, fixed together, were mounted on the front plate of the camera and were held in position by a primitive-looking spring. Seven Mamiya Sekor lenses were available, from 55mm to 250mm focal length. Bellows focussing, via twin knobs, provided a close-focussing capability for all lenses.

A leaf shutter was incorporated in each taking lens and was cocked and released via external mechanical linkages connected to a separate shutter release (there were two buttons, on the front and side of the body) and to the film transport mechanism. An internal shutter protected the film when lenses were changed.

Parallax was (as on any TLR) significant at close distances, and the C300 had an elaborate indication system in the viewfinder, and this had to be re-indexed, manually, when lenses were changed, as did a bar showing the focussing distance.

The Mamiya could be flexibly configured, standard accessories including a grip, a cut film back, interchangeable focussing screens and prism finders, one incorporating a CDS meter. The Mamiya was popular with many professional photographers, being less expensive and more versatile than the Rollei.

The C330 model was produced between 1969 and 1982.

Old 8mm cine cameras do not fetch high prices. This near-mint example, bought on eBay in 2011 for precisely £0.01, had depreciated from its original sale price of £49/10/- by nearly 99.97%.

The Sanko CM-8, with reflex viewfinder, zoom lens and automatic exposure control, was prized for its unique compactness (the pistol grip folded away when not in use) and attractive slim-line profile. And it was very solidly and precisely made - a veritable “Olympus OM-1” of cine cameras, when 8mm was in its heyday.

Anyone used to a modern video camcorder would find 8mm cine a fiddle, not least having to load and thread each (very short) film in the camera twice. And a serious gripe is the focal length range of the zoom (the 8-CM's was typical of cine cameras of the time): the 8.5mm "wide angle" end was equivalent to at least a 65mm lens on 35mm. Even a photographer who wanted to follow advice to keep the camera still and let the subject do the moving was forced to pan, constantly, as he struggled to cover the subject.

Exakta Varex IIb (1961)

The Exacta was the "Model T Ford" of SLR cameras, and the Varex IIb, its last and most advanced variant, despite its primitive 'driving experience', was widely used by amateur and professional photographers. The Exakta bayonet was then a ubiquitous fitting for cameras and other optical equipment, and it allowed easy fitment of extension tubes, and combined with a removable prism which could be interchanged with a waist-level finder, it was particularly suitable for close-up and macro work, and it opened up new vistas for photographers previously hamstrung by non-reflex and fixed-lens cameras.

The mirror is not instant-return, but with certain lenses it enjoyed a primitive type of automatic diaphragm. For viewing, the lens is opened to full aperture by turning a ring underneath, and the ring is released at exposure time by a plunger mounted on the lens barrel which engages with a shutter release on the body.

A unique and curious feature of the Exakta is the option of cassette-to-cassette film transport which removes the need to rewind film, and a guillotine in the film chamber to enable the exposed portion of a part-used film to be extracted from the camera for developing.

Ergonomic it isn't!  The tapered sides of the body, the sharp edges of the base plate and the awkward, left-handed shutter release makes a firm grip quite impossible. But the Exakta was well-made and many of this vintage are still in perfect working order.

Zeiss Icon SLRs were like Rolls-Royce cars, solid triumphs of evolution over design, never quite shaking off their antiquated origins. In production until the late 1960’s, the most advanced Contaflex had TTL metering combined with a form of AE exposure, but it was the last ever 35mm SLR never to have an instant return mirror. The finder blackout until the shutter was re-cocked was reminiscent of (and might have contributed to) the effects of hypertension.

A late model was even designed to take Instamatic 126 film cartridges. Another evolutionary dead-end was the Contaflex’s interchangeable lens front elements giving effective focal lengths of 35mm, 50mm, 85mm and 115mm, the rear element group remaining in the camera body. Optical design had to be compromised to accommodate this (strangely, the short-lived Canon Exee used a similar system a decade later). A 1:1 close-up front element could be fitted, as could a 3D splitter attachment, a telephoto monocular, and a curious retractable rubber lens hood.

What, in a 35mm camera, was unique in the Contaflex (shared by its upmarket stablemate the Contarex), were light-tight interchangeable film backs which enabled films to be switched mid-roll, a very useful advantage for photographers who took both color slides and negatives.

The Super model, introduced in 1959, had an external selenium meter coupled to apertures and shutter speeds with a centre-needle in both the viewfinder and top plate. Apertures were set via a small dial near the rewind crank. Changing the shutter speed automatically adjusted the aperture to the reciprocal equivalent for the EV setting. Focussing was by two knurled lugs at the rear of the lens mount.

Miranda F (1965)

Mirandas were solidly-built SLRs, popular between the 1950s and 1970s with amateurs and even a few professionals. Interchangeable pentaprisms made them quite versatile, but the proprietary lens mount limited the range of available lenses, all of which were made by other manufacturers.

The Miranda F had a unique feature – two shutter release buttons. Mirandas, like other early SLRs, had front-of-body releases, which in later models migrated to the top of the body (where for practical ergonomics they should have been all along). The F was a transitional model which accommodated all personal preferences by providing buttons in both positions

Paillard Bolex P3 (1964)

The Swiss-made Bolex was one of the most desirable Standard 8mm cine cameras of its time. The P3 had such features as TTL metering and a coincident image rangefinder incorporated in its reflex viewfinder, a variable shutter and frame rate, and (although film transport was still clockwork) electric power zoom on its class-leading f1.9 8-40mm Pan-Cinor lens. In 1964 it cost nearly £143.

This example (Serial no. A43098) was one of the last three to come off the production line.