Camera Collecting, The Incurable Passion, Part 1
How to know if you’re a camera collector and what you can do about it.
By Jason Schneider
I took my first tentative steps down the primrose path of camera collecting way back in 1960 when I acquired my first Leica, a display model IIIg with 50mm f/2.8 collapsible Elmar lens in a red Leica snap top display case. The poor thing had been languishing at Village Photo Shop in Rockville Center, Long Island ever since the store first acquired it in 1957 and the kindly old German guy who owned the place took pity on me and let me buy if for 10% below the list price of $273.00. Since he was an authorized Leica dealer at the time, this was strictly verboten, but much appreciated. While I didn’t buy that camera as a collectible, unbeknownst to me, I had been mortally bitten by the Leica bug, and shortly thereafter I acquired two more Leicas in short order. The first one was a gorgeous black Leica II (Model D) with a collapsible nickel-finished 50mm f/2.5 Hektor snagged for the grand sum of $39.50 at Willoughby’s camera store on W. 32nd St. in Manhattan. It had been consigned to the “junk pile” as an “old camera with an uncoated lens” and I didn’t have the heart to haggle over the price. Next came a near-mint 5-digit Leica I (Model A) with a 50mm f/3.5 Elmar I bought from Minifilm (also on 32nd St.) for 60 bucks plus tax after some spirited bargaining.
My first de facto collectible was this gorgeous Leica IIIg with collapsible 50mm f/2.8 Elmar I bought back in 1960 at a whopping 10% discount.
Leica II (Model D) of 1932 with collapsible 50mm f/2.5 Hektor. I snagged mine for a paltry $39.50. Ah, the joys of camera collecting in the '60s!
The iconic Leica 1 (Model A) with 50mm f/3.5 Elmar. I acquired mine for a mere 60 bocks plus sales tax in the '60s, but it took a bit of haggling
For some unfathomable reason, acquiring 3 vintage Leicas in the course of around 6 months seems to have opened the floodgates, and shortly thereafter I began buying old cameras at a furious pace—a 3A Folding Kodak Autographic Special (you could still buy 122 roll film for it until 1970), a 9x12cm Voigtlander Avus film pack and plate camera with a 135mm f/4.5 Skopar and a Rada 120 roll film adapter, a great hulking 4x5 RB Series B Graflex with a B&L Tessar, a flawless pre-war Zeiss Super Ikonta A with an uncoated 70mm f/3.5 Tessar---I could easily go on for 5 more paragraphs, but you get the idea. By 1969, when I presented my idea for a column on camera collecting to the late great Herbert (Burt) Keppler, then Editorial Director at Modern Photography, I had amassed a motley and variegated collection of nearly 100 cameras. Keppler, who became my mentor and lifelong friend, approved the project, and dubbed the monthly column The Camera Collector, a name that stuck when we both moved over to Popular Photography in 1987 and I was named Editor in Chief. The reason Burt Keppler was sympathetic and supportive to what was then a wacky editorial idea is simple—we were kindred spirits. He had been a de facto camera collector for decades, and his collection was at least twice as big as mine! We had both experienced what was, in effect, the golden age of camera collecting, the days before camera collecting was “a thing” and individual camera collectors (with the possible exceptions of Leica, Contax, and Nikon collectors) largely pursued their passion in solitude.
Kodak 3A Special of 1916 was first with a built-in coupled rangefinder. I ran plenty of 122 film through mine before they discontinued it in 1970.
RB Series B 4x5 Graflex of the '20s is a great hulking large format SLR. It's not the last word in convenience but it's a great picture taker!
My prewar Zeiss Super Ikonta A is a pocketable medium format classic and its uncoated 7cm f/3.5 Zeiss Tessar lens has gorgeous rendition.
Are you a camera collector? Here’s how you can tell.
If your office, storage room, or shelving units are cluttered with scores of different cameras, many of which you seldom if ever use for taking pictures, you are surely a camera collector by default. However, there are many less virulent cases of collector-itis that qualify.
Warning signs of the dreaded Camera Collecting syndrome:
I pride myself on being a user-collector rather than a showcase collector because I have fun making pictures with my vintage classics and confine my purchases to cameras that are fully functional or can be made so at minimal expense. However, cameras can be and often are technological works of art, so I harbor no ill will toward those who display most (or all) of their collectible cameras, nor do I believe user-collectors like me are somehow superior to showcase collectors. I’ve viewed scores of camera collections over the years, and many are breathtaking, equal to what you’d find in any national museum of technology like the Smithsonian. And many if the folks that assembled them have done meticulous research that has enriched the histories of their chosen brands. Finally, I’ve discovered that there are limits to being a user-collector, and I’m a perfect example. I currently own 212 cameras and I currently shoot with about 20 of them, which is less than 10%. Bottom line: most camera collectors display (or hoard) most of their collections and occasionally shoot with the rest. But whichever way you do it, it’s intensely human, an act of love tinged with beady-eyed acquisitiveness.
Camera collecting strategies: It pays to have one!
I will confess to being a haphazard collector—my personal collection ruins the gamut from common box cameras and low-end, scale-focusing 35s, to elite rangefinder 35s, to a staggering variety if 2-1/4 x 2-1/4 twin lens reflexes, to a splendiferous assortment if folding 35mm and roll film cameras, to a passel of vintage 4x5 and 8 x 10 view cameras—and much, much more. In short, my collection is sprawling and undisciplined, much like its owner. Therefore, all the following great advice gleaned from my 65+ years of camera collecting falls under that ever-popular category of “Do as I say, not as I do.”
The Koniflex II of the '50s is one of far too many 2-1/4 TLRs in my collection. It's beautifully made and has a superb 85mm f/3.5 Hexagon lens.
Specialize. It’s generally much more rewarding to concentrate on a single type or brand of camera than to just collect cameras willy-nilly as I have done. For example, I recently viewed a stunning display of rangefinder Canons beginning with the Canon S-II of the late ‘40s and ending with the last model in series production, the coveted Canon 7sZ that finished in late 1968. The happy owner, who also shoots with some of his 100 or so Canons, confesses that he hasn’t been able to find earlier bayonet mount Canons with Nikkor lenses such as the iconic Hansa Canon (Kwanon) of 1935-1940 and the Canon S of 1938-1945 at affordable prices. However, he has supplemented his Canon collection with some captivating examples of Canon’s erstwhile competitors, the Leotax, Tanack, Honor, and Nicca.
Canon S-II of 1946-1949 was stamped "Made in Occupied Japan." A collector's prize, it's fitted with an outstanding 50mm f/3.5 Serenar lens,
Specialization is a gradient, and many experienced camera collectors specialize in 2 or 3 camera categories and brands and will occasionally snap up an interesting “out of category” camera that turns up at a great price, possibly with the intention of eventually swapping it for a hard to find “in category” camera.
Set standards. There are a few collectors out there who claim that that won’t buy a camera unless it’s in mint condition. Good luck to them, because I have found that 99% of used cameras described as “mint” have minor cosmetic defects of one kind or another—typically minor scratches, paint loss, issues with the leatherette covering, or cleaning marks on the lens. If you really want a “mint” camera, try to find one listed as “new in box,” and even then, perfectionists are likely to be disappointed—unless the camera in question has literally never been unpacked, in which case the seller can only post a photo of the “sealed” box.
If you really want a "mint" camera, and are willing to pay extra, find a new old stock or unused example like this Canon A-1 in original packing.
My personal criteria are as follows: I will not pay a substantial premium for a camera listed as “mint” or “new in box,” but I do confine my purchases to cameras that are very clean and fully functional with as few blemishes as possible. I will accept a few minor surface scratches, especially in inconspicuous places, and a neatly and discreetly engraved owner’s name or I.D. number is OK. I will not, except in the rarest of cases, purchase a camera that is dented or shows brass through the chrome or black finish (I know there are many collectors that adore “brassed” cameras). An exception: My beautiful Nikon S, which is fully functional and fitted with a near mint 50mm f/1.4 Nikkor-S.C lens, but has a teensy bit of brass showing near the front viewfinder window and a couple of shallow dents, and circular tripod-mounting scratches on the bottom plate. Note: There are no official standards for purchasing vintage cameras—you must set your own—and bear in mind that all those descriptive adjectives used by sellers reflect their personal opinions (maybe with a bit if hype added) and may not reflect your own.
My beautiful Nikon S is one if the few cameras I've ever bought with slight "brassing" and minor dents in] the bottom plate. I still love it!
Beware the repair trap. You may well find that the collectible camera if your dreams that checks all the boxes in your “must have” list requires some repairs, especially if you intend to shoot with it. But not all repairs are created equal. Rangefinders that work but are out of adjustment, shutters that fire at all speeds but are too slow, dusty viewfinders, mirrors and viewing screens, and meters that read too high or too low can usually be repaired at reasonable cost. Shutters and rangefinders that don’t work at all may not be repairable, replacing perforated shutter curtains is time consuming, very expensive, and not every repair shop will do it, and meters that are dead may be irreparable without replacing the meter cell or mechanism, which are often unobtainable. Even old cameras that appear to work perfectly should really be checked out and C.L.A.-ed by a competent repair person before you rely on them for taking pictures on film, which is, after all, a labor intensive and expensive undertaking in 2024.
Voigtlander Avus 9 x12 cm film pack and plate camera of the '20s. I can still use it because it came with a Rada 6x9 cm 120 roll film adapter
Never buy cameras sold “As Is, No Returns Accepted.” The only time you should even think about buying a collectible camera sold “as Is” is if you’re willing to risk losing the entire purchase price on the outside chance that it may be repairable at reasonable cost, or you’re buying it for parts, and the price is irresistible. I’ve done this riverboat gambler thing about a dozen times in the last 10-15 years and have been burned nearly 70% of the time, so, in the immortal words if the ancient Romans, caveat emptor.
Best advice: Buy cameras only from reputable sellers (eBay sellers with over 100 sales and a 99+% seller rating are usually a good bet) and make sure that the return time frame (typically 2-4 weeks) is sufficient for you to get it back to the seller for a full refund, which, incidentally, includes the original taxes paid and your original shipping cost. Normally the return shipping cost is on you, but some dealers offer “free returns,” which means they will add your return shipping cost when they post your refund, a plus.
Make friends with an experienced repair person familiar with repairing vintage cameras: Sadly, most people who fall into this category are getting on a bit, and many have retired, so vintage camera repair specialists are getting harder to find. One we can recommend is Ryan Jones of Pro Camera of Charlottesville, VA, Happily, this 40+ years old company has hired two new young technicians who are learning the age-old craft, so there’s hope for all of us.
Have fun shooting with your vintage classics! Even if you’re primarily a showcase collector there’s nothing quite so satisfying as walking around with an ancient camera and taking pictures with it. Aside from sheet film, the only film sizes generally available are 120 roll film and 35mm, but both are widely sold in a variety of black and white and color emulsions, including ISO 100 to ISO 800 color print and color transparency films, and black-and-white films with speeds ranging from IS0 40 to ISO 3200. Many of the vintage lenses on your goldy-oldie classics also capture that breathless quality known as “the vintage look.” So, if anyone taps you on the shoulder and questions your sanity when they notice the antique you’re shooting with, you can just say you’re doing it for art’s sake—just like the Ars Gratia Artis banner below the roaring MGM lion, which is now, in this shamelessly illiterate era, preceded by the English translation, “Art for Art’s Sake.”
How to know if you’re a camera collector and what you can do about it.
By Jason Schneider
I took my first tentative steps down the primrose path of camera collecting way back in 1960 when I acquired my first Leica, a display model IIIg with 50mm f/2.8 collapsible Elmar lens in a red Leica snap top display case. The poor thing had been languishing at Village Photo Shop in Rockville Center, Long Island ever since the store first acquired it in 1957 and the kindly old German guy who owned the place took pity on me and let me buy if for 10% below the list price of $273.00. Since he was an authorized Leica dealer at the time, this was strictly verboten, but much appreciated. While I didn’t buy that camera as a collectible, unbeknownst to me, I had been mortally bitten by the Leica bug, and shortly thereafter I acquired two more Leicas in short order. The first one was a gorgeous black Leica II (Model D) with a collapsible nickel-finished 50mm f/2.5 Hektor snagged for the grand sum of $39.50 at Willoughby’s camera store on W. 32nd St. in Manhattan. It had been consigned to the “junk pile” as an “old camera with an uncoated lens” and I didn’t have the heart to haggle over the price. Next came a near-mint 5-digit Leica I (Model A) with a 50mm f/3.5 Elmar I bought from Minifilm (also on 32nd St.) for 60 bucks plus tax after some spirited bargaining.
My first de facto collectible was this gorgeous Leica IIIg with collapsible 50mm f/2.8 Elmar I bought back in 1960 at a whopping 10% discount.
Leica II (Model D) of 1932 with collapsible 50mm f/2.5 Hektor. I snagged mine for a paltry $39.50. Ah, the joys of camera collecting in the '60s!
The iconic Leica 1 (Model A) with 50mm f/3.5 Elmar. I acquired mine for a mere 60 bocks plus sales tax in the '60s, but it took a bit of haggling
For some unfathomable reason, acquiring 3 vintage Leicas in the course of around 6 months seems to have opened the floodgates, and shortly thereafter I began buying old cameras at a furious pace—a 3A Folding Kodak Autographic Special (you could still buy 122 roll film for it until 1970), a 9x12cm Voigtlander Avus film pack and plate camera with a 135mm f/4.5 Skopar and a Rada 120 roll film adapter, a great hulking 4x5 RB Series B Graflex with a B&L Tessar, a flawless pre-war Zeiss Super Ikonta A with an uncoated 70mm f/3.5 Tessar---I could easily go on for 5 more paragraphs, but you get the idea. By 1969, when I presented my idea for a column on camera collecting to the late great Herbert (Burt) Keppler, then Editorial Director at Modern Photography, I had amassed a motley and variegated collection of nearly 100 cameras. Keppler, who became my mentor and lifelong friend, approved the project, and dubbed the monthly column The Camera Collector, a name that stuck when we both moved over to Popular Photography in 1987 and I was named Editor in Chief. The reason Burt Keppler was sympathetic and supportive to what was then a wacky editorial idea is simple—we were kindred spirits. He had been a de facto camera collector for decades, and his collection was at least twice as big as mine! We had both experienced what was, in effect, the golden age of camera collecting, the days before camera collecting was “a thing” and individual camera collectors (with the possible exceptions of Leica, Contax, and Nikon collectors) largely pursued their passion in solitude.
Kodak 3A Special of 1916 was first with a built-in coupled rangefinder. I ran plenty of 122 film through mine before they discontinued it in 1970.
RB Series B 4x5 Graflex of the '20s is a great hulking large format SLR. It's not the last word in convenience but it's a great picture taker!
My prewar Zeiss Super Ikonta A is a pocketable medium format classic and its uncoated 7cm f/3.5 Zeiss Tessar lens has gorgeous rendition.
Are you a camera collector? Here’s how you can tell.
If your office, storage room, or shelving units are cluttered with scores of different cameras, many of which you seldom if ever use for taking pictures, you are surely a camera collector by default. However, there are many less virulent cases of collector-itis that qualify.
Warning signs of the dreaded Camera Collecting syndrome:
- Buying cameras simply because they’re beautiful objects and not intending to use them for making pictures.
- Buying cameras for which film is not readily available (such as 620, 127, 616, 116, 828, 122 roll film sizes which are only sold at extravagant prices by custom film rolling outfits).
- Buying film (analog) cameras at all, especially those where the line is no longer in production, like Bronicas, Rolleiflex TLRs, Mamiyas (all format) rangefinder Canons, Nikons, and Contaxes, et al.
- Buying cameras with the thought of someday using them, but only fondling and firing them from time to time.
- Making up ingeniously plausible excuses to your spouse regarding the excessive camera purchases that show up on your credit card.
- Discovering that you have bought more than 10 used cameras on eBay within the last 12 months, all of which are discontinued and no longer available brand new.
- Buying more than one roll of film per month. The mere act of buying film doesn’t prove you’re a camera collector, but there’s a high correlation between the quantity of film you purchase and whether you’re exhibiting camera collector syndrome.
I pride myself on being a user-collector rather than a showcase collector because I have fun making pictures with my vintage classics and confine my purchases to cameras that are fully functional or can be made so at minimal expense. However, cameras can be and often are technological works of art, so I harbor no ill will toward those who display most (or all) of their collectible cameras, nor do I believe user-collectors like me are somehow superior to showcase collectors. I’ve viewed scores of camera collections over the years, and many are breathtaking, equal to what you’d find in any national museum of technology like the Smithsonian. And many if the folks that assembled them have done meticulous research that has enriched the histories of their chosen brands. Finally, I’ve discovered that there are limits to being a user-collector, and I’m a perfect example. I currently own 212 cameras and I currently shoot with about 20 of them, which is less than 10%. Bottom line: most camera collectors display (or hoard) most of their collections and occasionally shoot with the rest. But whichever way you do it, it’s intensely human, an act of love tinged with beady-eyed acquisitiveness.
Camera collecting strategies: It pays to have one!
I will confess to being a haphazard collector—my personal collection ruins the gamut from common box cameras and low-end, scale-focusing 35s, to elite rangefinder 35s, to a staggering variety if 2-1/4 x 2-1/4 twin lens reflexes, to a splendiferous assortment if folding 35mm and roll film cameras, to a passel of vintage 4x5 and 8 x 10 view cameras—and much, much more. In short, my collection is sprawling and undisciplined, much like its owner. Therefore, all the following great advice gleaned from my 65+ years of camera collecting falls under that ever-popular category of “Do as I say, not as I do.”
The Koniflex II of the '50s is one of far too many 2-1/4 TLRs in my collection. It's beautifully made and has a superb 85mm f/3.5 Hexagon lens.
Specialize. It’s generally much more rewarding to concentrate on a single type or brand of camera than to just collect cameras willy-nilly as I have done. For example, I recently viewed a stunning display of rangefinder Canons beginning with the Canon S-II of the late ‘40s and ending with the last model in series production, the coveted Canon 7sZ that finished in late 1968. The happy owner, who also shoots with some of his 100 or so Canons, confesses that he hasn’t been able to find earlier bayonet mount Canons with Nikkor lenses such as the iconic Hansa Canon (Kwanon) of 1935-1940 and the Canon S of 1938-1945 at affordable prices. However, he has supplemented his Canon collection with some captivating examples of Canon’s erstwhile competitors, the Leotax, Tanack, Honor, and Nicca.
Canon S-II of 1946-1949 was stamped "Made in Occupied Japan." A collector's prize, it's fitted with an outstanding 50mm f/3.5 Serenar lens,
Specialization is a gradient, and many experienced camera collectors specialize in 2 or 3 camera categories and brands and will occasionally snap up an interesting “out of category” camera that turns up at a great price, possibly with the intention of eventually swapping it for a hard to find “in category” camera.
Set standards. There are a few collectors out there who claim that that won’t buy a camera unless it’s in mint condition. Good luck to them, because I have found that 99% of used cameras described as “mint” have minor cosmetic defects of one kind or another—typically minor scratches, paint loss, issues with the leatherette covering, or cleaning marks on the lens. If you really want a “mint” camera, try to find one listed as “new in box,” and even then, perfectionists are likely to be disappointed—unless the camera in question has literally never been unpacked, in which case the seller can only post a photo of the “sealed” box.
If you really want a "mint" camera, and are willing to pay extra, find a new old stock or unused example like this Canon A-1 in original packing.
My personal criteria are as follows: I will not pay a substantial premium for a camera listed as “mint” or “new in box,” but I do confine my purchases to cameras that are very clean and fully functional with as few blemishes as possible. I will accept a few minor surface scratches, especially in inconspicuous places, and a neatly and discreetly engraved owner’s name or I.D. number is OK. I will not, except in the rarest of cases, purchase a camera that is dented or shows brass through the chrome or black finish (I know there are many collectors that adore “brassed” cameras). An exception: My beautiful Nikon S, which is fully functional and fitted with a near mint 50mm f/1.4 Nikkor-S.C lens, but has a teensy bit of brass showing near the front viewfinder window and a couple of shallow dents, and circular tripod-mounting scratches on the bottom plate. Note: There are no official standards for purchasing vintage cameras—you must set your own—and bear in mind that all those descriptive adjectives used by sellers reflect their personal opinions (maybe with a bit if hype added) and may not reflect your own.
My beautiful Nikon S is one if the few cameras I've ever bought with slight "brassing" and minor dents in] the bottom plate. I still love it!
Beware the repair trap. You may well find that the collectible camera if your dreams that checks all the boxes in your “must have” list requires some repairs, especially if you intend to shoot with it. But not all repairs are created equal. Rangefinders that work but are out of adjustment, shutters that fire at all speeds but are too slow, dusty viewfinders, mirrors and viewing screens, and meters that read too high or too low can usually be repaired at reasonable cost. Shutters and rangefinders that don’t work at all may not be repairable, replacing perforated shutter curtains is time consuming, very expensive, and not every repair shop will do it, and meters that are dead may be irreparable without replacing the meter cell or mechanism, which are often unobtainable. Even old cameras that appear to work perfectly should really be checked out and C.L.A.-ed by a competent repair person before you rely on them for taking pictures on film, which is, after all, a labor intensive and expensive undertaking in 2024.
Voigtlander Avus 9 x12 cm film pack and plate camera of the '20s. I can still use it because it came with a Rada 6x9 cm 120 roll film adapter
Never buy cameras sold “As Is, No Returns Accepted.” The only time you should even think about buying a collectible camera sold “as Is” is if you’re willing to risk losing the entire purchase price on the outside chance that it may be repairable at reasonable cost, or you’re buying it for parts, and the price is irresistible. I’ve done this riverboat gambler thing about a dozen times in the last 10-15 years and have been burned nearly 70% of the time, so, in the immortal words if the ancient Romans, caveat emptor.
Best advice: Buy cameras only from reputable sellers (eBay sellers with over 100 sales and a 99+% seller rating are usually a good bet) and make sure that the return time frame (typically 2-4 weeks) is sufficient for you to get it back to the seller for a full refund, which, incidentally, includes the original taxes paid and your original shipping cost. Normally the return shipping cost is on you, but some dealers offer “free returns,” which means they will add your return shipping cost when they post your refund, a plus.
Make friends with an experienced repair person familiar with repairing vintage cameras: Sadly, most people who fall into this category are getting on a bit, and many have retired, so vintage camera repair specialists are getting harder to find. One we can recommend is Ryan Jones of Pro Camera of Charlottesville, VA, Happily, this 40+ years old company has hired two new young technicians who are learning the age-old craft, so there’s hope for all of us.
Have fun shooting with your vintage classics! Even if you’re primarily a showcase collector there’s nothing quite so satisfying as walking around with an ancient camera and taking pictures with it. Aside from sheet film, the only film sizes generally available are 120 roll film and 35mm, but both are widely sold in a variety of black and white and color emulsions, including ISO 100 to ISO 800 color print and color transparency films, and black-and-white films with speeds ranging from IS0 40 to ISO 3200. Many of the vintage lenses on your goldy-oldie classics also capture that breathless quality known as “the vintage look.” So, if anyone taps you on the shoulder and questions your sanity when they notice the antique you’re shooting with, you can just say you’re doing it for art’s sake—just like the Ars Gratia Artis banner below the roaring MGM lion, which is now, in this shamelessly illiterate era, preceded by the English translation, “Art for Art’s Sake.”
