Interview of Jason Schneider, The Camera Collector, Part 1
The grizzled guru holds forth on imaging, equipment, and his life story
Questions by Stephen Gandy
Q: What was your first camera, and do you still have it?
Ansco Panda plastic box camera c.1950
A: It was a circa 1950 Ansco Panda my Aunt Estelle bought me for my 8th birthday, a reasonably attractive but fairly wretched fixed focus plastic box camera with a top-mounted reflex viewfinder. It took twelve 2-1/4 x 2-1/4-inch images per roll of 620 film, and though I was delighted with it at first, I grew to hate it because of its poor picture-taking performance, though admittedly this was partly attributable to my own ineptitude. I don’t remember whatever happened to it, but I no longer have it and was never inclined to acquire a duplicate, even for old time’s sake.
Kodak Brownie Junior Six-Twenty of 1934-1943
Nevertheless, my experience with that Ansco Panda taught me one thing that was destined to have a profound influence on my life—I enjoyed taking pictures and sharing the results with my hapless portrait subjects. And so, in pursuit of “technical excellence,” I began borrowing my dad’s art deco Kodak Brownie Junior 620, another elemental fixed focus box camera (made from 1934-1942) that took eight 2-1/4 x 3-1/4-inch images per roll of 620 film. Its tiny reflex finders made it tough to compose the shot, but for whatever reason it took sharper pictures than the Ansco, and I used it with satisfaction for quite a while. The only problem: Even with its two-stop aperture control slide pulled out to the smallest opening (for making exposures in very bright light) you couldn’t get sharp pictures if the subject was closer than about 5 feet from the lens. Had I known that Kodak offered a close-up attachment suitable for “head-and shoulders portraits and flowers” I might still be using it now.
Belfoca East German folding 120 roll film camera with original case.
Q: What was your first serious camera, or the one that enabled you to learn the basics of photography?
A: My first foray into the rarefied realm of “serious photography” occurred in 1956 when I was 14 and gainfully employed. I was cruising the aisles of “S. Klein on the Square,” an early discount department store in lower Manhattan located at 14th street on Union Square, when I spied the camera of my dreams in a glass showcase. It was a Belfoca, a reasonably well-made East German 2-1/4 x 3-1/4-inch, 120 roll film folding camera of the mid-’50s. It had such technically advanced features as a coated, scale-focusing 10.5cm f/4.5 E. Ludwig Meritar lens that stopped down to f/22 and focused down to 4-1/2 feet, a manually-cocked Prontor-S shutter with speeds of 1-1/250 sec plus B and a built-in self-timer, a small pivoting reflex finder and a pop-up non-optical frame finder, a film aperture insert that gave you the choice of shooting twelve 2-1/4 x 2-1/4 images per roll, and 2 (count ‘em) red windows with built-in sliding covers for winding the film to the next frame.
I purchased the Belfoca for the grand sum of $12.50, a fair piece of change considering that I was only bringing in about $20 a week from my newspaper route plus caddying on the weekends. It was my prized possession, and I must have run at least 500 rolls of film through it. In due course I discovered that the Meritar lens was a mediocre front-cell-focusing triplet that you had to stop down to about f/8 if you expected to achieve critical sharpness, and that you had to be disciplined enough to avoid blank and double exposures since it lacked both an automatic film stop mechanism and double-exposure prevention. However, I still have my beloved Belfoca and I occasionally run a roll of film through it. I acquired my first 35mm camera, a late-version Minolta A-2 with excellent 45mm f/2.8 Rokkor lens, in 1958, and then a Leica IIIg with 50mm f/2.8 Elmar, in 1960. It was the latter that set me down the primrose path of camera collecting. The rest, as they say, is history.
Q: What makes cameras and photography interesting to you?
A: Ever since I was a little tyke, I’ve been fascinated by mechanical objects that work—clocks, watches, motorcycles, cars, and of course cameras. I find the beauty, elegance, idiosyncrasies, and personalities of different cameras endlessly engaging; to me they’re technological works of art that say something profound about the people and cultures that created them. However, while I freely admit to being an incurable gadgeteer who loves and collects cameras I also have an abiding love for photography and consider it, along with writing, to be my primary means of creative self-expression. Over the years I’ve earned a living as a professional photographer, shooting, among other things, portraits, weddings, products, and architecture, and I’ve done a fair amount of photojournalism and urban street photography. These days I’m an itinerant art photographer—shooting mostly impromptu portraits with ancient film cameras, and abstract compositions and ironic vignettes captured with a variety of film and digital cameras. Obviously, I also take pictures to illustrate my articles.
Mady, Age 11, shot with Mamiya C220 and 80mm f/2.8 Mamiya-Sekor lens, f/4-5.6 at 1/50 sec on Ilford HP-5 Plus
Another reason I find photography so intriguing: ever since I saw my first print emerging in the developer tray in my crude basement darkroom, I instantly knew that photography is magic. And after mulling it over for 50+ years I think I know why. By controlling just two elemental, irreducible variables of time and space—when you press the shutter release, and what the camera captures on the frame-–you can create an enduring visual record that not only reveals essential aspects of the subject, but also yields profound insights on the state of consciousness of the photographer.
This ability to transmit one’s consciousness through time and space and convey it to present and future generations is not unique to photography—it’s a characteristic of all artforms and is enshrined in the Roman version of the Ancient Greek dictum— Ars longa vita brevis—basically “Life is short (but) Art endures.” The miracle of photography is that this process can be accomplished in an instant, but the significance and ultimate value of the resulting image depends on both the skill and transcendent vision of the photographer and the ability of the viewer to perceive it and respond emotionally. There are of course scores of other decision points that can shape the characteristics of a photographic image, e.g. the lens, camera, capture medium, lighting, aperture, and shutter speed used. But it’s still astonishing that a technologically based recording medium invented in the 19th century that uses light itself to capture a visual image has transformed the way we perceive world and is perhaps the defining artform of our time.
Q: What camera systems are your favorites, and why?
A: This is like asking a parent to name his or her favorite child, because basically I’m an equal opportunity camera lover. In short, I enjoy taking pictures with virtually any camera or camera system, even those that are clunky, imperfect, inconvenient, or somewhat challenging. However, since you asked, I’ll provide a brief rundown on 3 systems I’ve used extensively and love in spite of their foibles—with the understanding that I’ll extend this list in future postings to include screw- and M-mount Leicas, Rolleiflex and Rolleicord TLRs, the mighty 4x5 and 2-1/4 x 3-1/4 Speed and Crown Graphics, and much more.
Mamiya C220 with old style 80mm f/2.8 Mamiya-Sekor lens
1. Mamiya C-series twin-lens reflexes: Compared to the elegantly ergonomic Rolleiflexes, these interchangeable-lens TLRs from Japan may seem like clunky contraptions, but they’re robust, reliable, well- made cameras with a choice of excellent lenses ranging from 55mm-250mm. The earliest Models C and C2 are rather heavy, have primitive frame-counter systems, and no double exposure prevention. The last models C330 and C330f have modern semi-automatic film advance via a film-wind crank and have auto parallax correction lines in the finder that shift as you focus. All provide much closer focusing than traditional TLRs without requiring accessory close-up lenses. My favorite is a knob-wind Mamiya C220 introduced in 1968 that’s fitted with the old style (chrome) 80mm f/2.8 Mamiya-Sekor lens in a Seikosha MX shutter; it has an 11-bladed diaphragm and yields smoother bokeh than later black finished versions, which have 5-bladed diaphragms. If you go for any of these beauties do as I did and install one of the HI-LUX screens made by Maxwell Precision Optics (maxwellprecisionoptica@yahoo.com). They really transform the viewing system in terms of both brightness, and contrast, greatly enhancing focusing ease and precision.
Beseler Topcon Super D with 58mm f/1.4 RE Auto-Topcor lens
2. Topcon Super D: Also sold as the Topcon RE Super, and marketed by Beseler as the Beseler Topcon Super D, these robust, reliable, p full system professional 35mm SLRs were made by Tokyo Optical Co., a company renowned for its outstanding lenses. Introduced in 1963 and produced until 1971 it featured one of the first through-the-lens, full-aperture (TTL) metering systems with the CdS cell ingeniously located behind slits cut into the instant-return mirror. It also featured a removable pentaprism, easily interchangeable viewing screens, and a variation of the Exakta mount that enables Super D and Exakta lenses to be used on both systems. The standard lens is the superb 58mm f/1.4 RE Auto-Topcor or the slightly slower f/1.8 version, also an outstanding performer. A battery-operated winder can be attached to the base of later models. Although overshadowed by the Nikon F, the Topcon Super D was and is a worthy contender and its complete line of Topcon RE lenses are at least equal and sometimes superior to the equivalent Nikon F and Canon FL/FD lenses of the day. My personal favorites are the 58mm f/1.4, and the 100mm f/2.8, both great portrait lenses that deliver impressive sharpness along with classic vintage rendition.
Exakta VX IIIa first, version of 1957-1960, with 55mm f/1.9 Steinheil Auto Quinon lens
3. Exakta VX-series: Exakta 35mm SLRs are an acquired taste because they’re quirky, not the last word in convenience, can have some technical issues, and aren’t always easy or possible to repair at a reasonable cost. However, these East German (Dresden) trapezoidal-bodied classics are the lineal descendants of the original Kine Exakta of 1936, the first commercially successful 35mm SLR, and they have their charms despite their long-throw left-handed wind levers and shutter releases, and pre-set manual or external auto diaphragm lenses. Exaktas were also the first true system SLRs, supported by a huge array of lenses and accessories. The VX and later models have interchangeable pentaprism and waist-level viewfinders, and all have cloth focal-plane shutters that provide speeds from 12 sec, to 1/1000 sec, and an ingenious built-in film knife for conveniently removing exposed sections of film (in the darkroom or changing bag!) before you finish the roll. In short, they have lots of personality, and they’re capable of delivering first class results (along with a sense of accomplishment) when they’re fitted with such classic lenses as the 50mm f/3.5 or f/2.8 Zeiss Tessar, 50mm f/2 Pancolar, 58mm f/2 Zeiss Biotar, 50mm f/1.9 Schneider Xenon, or 55mm f/1.9 Steinheil Auto Quinon. My personal favorite is the early version of the Exakta VX IIa (1957-1960) which had interchangeable finders, built-in flash sync and an elegantly embossed script logo on the top front plate. IMHO it’s the prettiest Exakta ever. Warning: The Achilles heel of Exaktas is the shutter—the cloth curtains, especially those in early post-WW II models, is made of an inferior material that often develops pinholes and replacing the shutter curtains typically costs more than the camera is worth. The good news: You can currently snag a clean, functional Exakta VX IIa for around $100-150, and that might even include the lens! Just make sure the seller accepts returns.
The grizzled guru holds forth on imaging, equipment, and his life story
Questions by Stephen Gandy
Q: What was your first camera, and do you still have it?
Ansco Panda plastic box camera c.1950
A: It was a circa 1950 Ansco Panda my Aunt Estelle bought me for my 8th birthday, a reasonably attractive but fairly wretched fixed focus plastic box camera with a top-mounted reflex viewfinder. It took twelve 2-1/4 x 2-1/4-inch images per roll of 620 film, and though I was delighted with it at first, I grew to hate it because of its poor picture-taking performance, though admittedly this was partly attributable to my own ineptitude. I don’t remember whatever happened to it, but I no longer have it and was never inclined to acquire a duplicate, even for old time’s sake.
Kodak Brownie Junior Six-Twenty of 1934-1943
Nevertheless, my experience with that Ansco Panda taught me one thing that was destined to have a profound influence on my life—I enjoyed taking pictures and sharing the results with my hapless portrait subjects. And so, in pursuit of “technical excellence,” I began borrowing my dad’s art deco Kodak Brownie Junior 620, another elemental fixed focus box camera (made from 1934-1942) that took eight 2-1/4 x 3-1/4-inch images per roll of 620 film. Its tiny reflex finders made it tough to compose the shot, but for whatever reason it took sharper pictures than the Ansco, and I used it with satisfaction for quite a while. The only problem: Even with its two-stop aperture control slide pulled out to the smallest opening (for making exposures in very bright light) you couldn’t get sharp pictures if the subject was closer than about 5 feet from the lens. Had I known that Kodak offered a close-up attachment suitable for “head-and shoulders portraits and flowers” I might still be using it now.
Belfoca East German folding 120 roll film camera with original case.
Q: What was your first serious camera, or the one that enabled you to learn the basics of photography?
A: My first foray into the rarefied realm of “serious photography” occurred in 1956 when I was 14 and gainfully employed. I was cruising the aisles of “S. Klein on the Square,” an early discount department store in lower Manhattan located at 14th street on Union Square, when I spied the camera of my dreams in a glass showcase. It was a Belfoca, a reasonably well-made East German 2-1/4 x 3-1/4-inch, 120 roll film folding camera of the mid-’50s. It had such technically advanced features as a coated, scale-focusing 10.5cm f/4.5 E. Ludwig Meritar lens that stopped down to f/22 and focused down to 4-1/2 feet, a manually-cocked Prontor-S shutter with speeds of 1-1/250 sec plus B and a built-in self-timer, a small pivoting reflex finder and a pop-up non-optical frame finder, a film aperture insert that gave you the choice of shooting twelve 2-1/4 x 2-1/4 images per roll, and 2 (count ‘em) red windows with built-in sliding covers for winding the film to the next frame.
I purchased the Belfoca for the grand sum of $12.50, a fair piece of change considering that I was only bringing in about $20 a week from my newspaper route plus caddying on the weekends. It was my prized possession, and I must have run at least 500 rolls of film through it. In due course I discovered that the Meritar lens was a mediocre front-cell-focusing triplet that you had to stop down to about f/8 if you expected to achieve critical sharpness, and that you had to be disciplined enough to avoid blank and double exposures since it lacked both an automatic film stop mechanism and double-exposure prevention. However, I still have my beloved Belfoca and I occasionally run a roll of film through it. I acquired my first 35mm camera, a late-version Minolta A-2 with excellent 45mm f/2.8 Rokkor lens, in 1958, and then a Leica IIIg with 50mm f/2.8 Elmar, in 1960. It was the latter that set me down the primrose path of camera collecting. The rest, as they say, is history.
Q: What makes cameras and photography interesting to you?
A: Ever since I was a little tyke, I’ve been fascinated by mechanical objects that work—clocks, watches, motorcycles, cars, and of course cameras. I find the beauty, elegance, idiosyncrasies, and personalities of different cameras endlessly engaging; to me they’re technological works of art that say something profound about the people and cultures that created them. However, while I freely admit to being an incurable gadgeteer who loves and collects cameras I also have an abiding love for photography and consider it, along with writing, to be my primary means of creative self-expression. Over the years I’ve earned a living as a professional photographer, shooting, among other things, portraits, weddings, products, and architecture, and I’ve done a fair amount of photojournalism and urban street photography. These days I’m an itinerant art photographer—shooting mostly impromptu portraits with ancient film cameras, and abstract compositions and ironic vignettes captured with a variety of film and digital cameras. Obviously, I also take pictures to illustrate my articles.
Mady, Age 11, shot with Mamiya C220 and 80mm f/2.8 Mamiya-Sekor lens, f/4-5.6 at 1/50 sec on Ilford HP-5 Plus
Another reason I find photography so intriguing: ever since I saw my first print emerging in the developer tray in my crude basement darkroom, I instantly knew that photography is magic. And after mulling it over for 50+ years I think I know why. By controlling just two elemental, irreducible variables of time and space—when you press the shutter release, and what the camera captures on the frame-–you can create an enduring visual record that not only reveals essential aspects of the subject, but also yields profound insights on the state of consciousness of the photographer.
This ability to transmit one’s consciousness through time and space and convey it to present and future generations is not unique to photography—it’s a characteristic of all artforms and is enshrined in the Roman version of the Ancient Greek dictum— Ars longa vita brevis—basically “Life is short (but) Art endures.” The miracle of photography is that this process can be accomplished in an instant, but the significance and ultimate value of the resulting image depends on both the skill and transcendent vision of the photographer and the ability of the viewer to perceive it and respond emotionally. There are of course scores of other decision points that can shape the characteristics of a photographic image, e.g. the lens, camera, capture medium, lighting, aperture, and shutter speed used. But it’s still astonishing that a technologically based recording medium invented in the 19th century that uses light itself to capture a visual image has transformed the way we perceive world and is perhaps the defining artform of our time.
Q: What camera systems are your favorites, and why?
A: This is like asking a parent to name his or her favorite child, because basically I’m an equal opportunity camera lover. In short, I enjoy taking pictures with virtually any camera or camera system, even those that are clunky, imperfect, inconvenient, or somewhat challenging. However, since you asked, I’ll provide a brief rundown on 3 systems I’ve used extensively and love in spite of their foibles—with the understanding that I’ll extend this list in future postings to include screw- and M-mount Leicas, Rolleiflex and Rolleicord TLRs, the mighty 4x5 and 2-1/4 x 3-1/4 Speed and Crown Graphics, and much more.
Mamiya C220 with old style 80mm f/2.8 Mamiya-Sekor lens
1. Mamiya C-series twin-lens reflexes: Compared to the elegantly ergonomic Rolleiflexes, these interchangeable-lens TLRs from Japan may seem like clunky contraptions, but they’re robust, reliable, well- made cameras with a choice of excellent lenses ranging from 55mm-250mm. The earliest Models C and C2 are rather heavy, have primitive frame-counter systems, and no double exposure prevention. The last models C330 and C330f have modern semi-automatic film advance via a film-wind crank and have auto parallax correction lines in the finder that shift as you focus. All provide much closer focusing than traditional TLRs without requiring accessory close-up lenses. My favorite is a knob-wind Mamiya C220 introduced in 1968 that’s fitted with the old style (chrome) 80mm f/2.8 Mamiya-Sekor lens in a Seikosha MX shutter; it has an 11-bladed diaphragm and yields smoother bokeh than later black finished versions, which have 5-bladed diaphragms. If you go for any of these beauties do as I did and install one of the HI-LUX screens made by Maxwell Precision Optics (maxwellprecisionoptica@yahoo.com). They really transform the viewing system in terms of both brightness, and contrast, greatly enhancing focusing ease and precision.
Beseler Topcon Super D with 58mm f/1.4 RE Auto-Topcor lens
2. Topcon Super D: Also sold as the Topcon RE Super, and marketed by Beseler as the Beseler Topcon Super D, these robust, reliable, p full system professional 35mm SLRs were made by Tokyo Optical Co., a company renowned for its outstanding lenses. Introduced in 1963 and produced until 1971 it featured one of the first through-the-lens, full-aperture (TTL) metering systems with the CdS cell ingeniously located behind slits cut into the instant-return mirror. It also featured a removable pentaprism, easily interchangeable viewing screens, and a variation of the Exakta mount that enables Super D and Exakta lenses to be used on both systems. The standard lens is the superb 58mm f/1.4 RE Auto-Topcor or the slightly slower f/1.8 version, also an outstanding performer. A battery-operated winder can be attached to the base of later models. Although overshadowed by the Nikon F, the Topcon Super D was and is a worthy contender and its complete line of Topcon RE lenses are at least equal and sometimes superior to the equivalent Nikon F and Canon FL/FD lenses of the day. My personal favorites are the 58mm f/1.4, and the 100mm f/2.8, both great portrait lenses that deliver impressive sharpness along with classic vintage rendition.
Exakta VX IIIa first, version of 1957-1960, with 55mm f/1.9 Steinheil Auto Quinon lens
3. Exakta VX-series: Exakta 35mm SLRs are an acquired taste because they’re quirky, not the last word in convenience, can have some technical issues, and aren’t always easy or possible to repair at a reasonable cost. However, these East German (Dresden) trapezoidal-bodied classics are the lineal descendants of the original Kine Exakta of 1936, the first commercially successful 35mm SLR, and they have their charms despite their long-throw left-handed wind levers and shutter releases, and pre-set manual or external auto diaphragm lenses. Exaktas were also the first true system SLRs, supported by a huge array of lenses and accessories. The VX and later models have interchangeable pentaprism and waist-level viewfinders, and all have cloth focal-plane shutters that provide speeds from 12 sec, to 1/1000 sec, and an ingenious built-in film knife for conveniently removing exposed sections of film (in the darkroom or changing bag!) before you finish the roll. In short, they have lots of personality, and they’re capable of delivering first class results (along with a sense of accomplishment) when they’re fitted with such classic lenses as the 50mm f/3.5 or f/2.8 Zeiss Tessar, 50mm f/2 Pancolar, 58mm f/2 Zeiss Biotar, 50mm f/1.9 Schneider Xenon, or 55mm f/1.9 Steinheil Auto Quinon. My personal favorite is the early version of the Exakta VX IIa (1957-1960) which had interchangeable finders, built-in flash sync and an elegantly embossed script logo on the top front plate. IMHO it’s the prettiest Exakta ever. Warning: The Achilles heel of Exaktas is the shutter—the cloth curtains, especially those in early post-WW II models, is made of an inferior material that often develops pinholes and replacing the shutter curtains typically costs more than the camera is worth. The good news: You can currently snag a clean, functional Exakta VX IIa for around $100-150, and that might even include the lens! Just make sure the seller accepts returns.
