telenous
Well-known
Saturday morning eulogy for old cameras follows:
For lack of time or funds or both I very rarely go to second-hand shops to purchase cameras. I did so once, for my M2, when I was fresh on Ebay and I was quite weary of buying a camera like that, so I overpaid about £100 for peace of mind from a trustworthy dealer. But as I said, the opportunity to visit a store does not arise very often.
So it came that just the other day I had a little time to kill (lets say between tutorials) and, against my better judgement, I felt a strange attraction to the local second-hand camera store (that's in London, there aren't any left in Oxford where I live). The camera store itself has a window resplendid with digital cameras of all sizes and value. But I happen to know from a web ad that the shop also carries a few renegade cameras that use film. I entered the dimly lit shop and I enquired whether they had any Leica R6 bodies (that was an icebreaker question, although I am genuinely debating with myself whether I should migrate from my Nikon SLR to a Leica SLR or completely abandon the format in favour of rangefinder purism). The young lady replied they didn't. I hadn't thought of that. I had to blow my cover. So I asked if they stock any film cameras whatsoever. The young lady looked at me knowingly, if somewhat disapprovingly, and kindly led me at the back in what looked like a recessed section of the store where they had a few shelves with their sad, unwanted merchantise.
And, my God, they had some of the most beautiful cameras I have ever seen. That is, I have seen them before in photos but never in 'flesh', shall we say. There was a Leica IIIg - never had I seen a camera before I could so readily mistake for a jewel. There was a black Rollei 35S - a camera I also want to buy some time in the future - tiny, bizarre, capricious, just beautiful. There were a couple of M6's but I didn't bat an eyelid, not when I had my trusty M2 in my bag. There was also a Zeiss Ikon Contarex (with the splendidly curious Cyclop light meter), perhaps the apotheosis of built quality. I very often think of my M2 as a tank but that camera was built like a safe-deposit. There were many others, a Contax T2, a Nikon 28 Ti, a Leica R4 (now, here's a Leica I wouldn't buy), a Bessa R with a Nokton 50 for a very unassuming price (that was a genuine surprise - the viewfinder was excellent, one can only imagine what it will be in a ZI). I stayed there for I do not know how long. I spent most of the time tinkering with the controls of the Contarex and the Rollei and suddenly I realised: these old, old cameras gave me a genuine, insouciant joy, not unlike the pleasure I took as a child from the toys I really liked.
I left like I arrived, empty-handed. But the seed is now sown; or perhaps it was sown long ago, and it is now in full bloom.
For lack of time or funds or both I very rarely go to second-hand shops to purchase cameras. I did so once, for my M2, when I was fresh on Ebay and I was quite weary of buying a camera like that, so I overpaid about £100 for peace of mind from a trustworthy dealer. But as I said, the opportunity to visit a store does not arise very often.
So it came that just the other day I had a little time to kill (lets say between tutorials) and, against my better judgement, I felt a strange attraction to the local second-hand camera store (that's in London, there aren't any left in Oxford where I live). The camera store itself has a window resplendid with digital cameras of all sizes and value. But I happen to know from a web ad that the shop also carries a few renegade cameras that use film. I entered the dimly lit shop and I enquired whether they had any Leica R6 bodies (that was an icebreaker question, although I am genuinely debating with myself whether I should migrate from my Nikon SLR to a Leica SLR or completely abandon the format in favour of rangefinder purism). The young lady replied they didn't. I hadn't thought of that. I had to blow my cover. So I asked if they stock any film cameras whatsoever. The young lady looked at me knowingly, if somewhat disapprovingly, and kindly led me at the back in what looked like a recessed section of the store where they had a few shelves with their sad, unwanted merchantise.
And, my God, they had some of the most beautiful cameras I have ever seen. That is, I have seen them before in photos but never in 'flesh', shall we say. There was a Leica IIIg - never had I seen a camera before I could so readily mistake for a jewel. There was a black Rollei 35S - a camera I also want to buy some time in the future - tiny, bizarre, capricious, just beautiful. There were a couple of M6's but I didn't bat an eyelid, not when I had my trusty M2 in my bag. There was also a Zeiss Ikon Contarex (with the splendidly curious Cyclop light meter), perhaps the apotheosis of built quality. I very often think of my M2 as a tank but that camera was built like a safe-deposit. There were many others, a Contax T2, a Nikon 28 Ti, a Leica R4 (now, here's a Leica I wouldn't buy), a Bessa R with a Nokton 50 for a very unassuming price (that was a genuine surprise - the viewfinder was excellent, one can only imagine what it will be in a ZI). I stayed there for I do not know how long. I spent most of the time tinkering with the controls of the Contarex and the Rollei and suddenly I realised: these old, old cameras gave me a genuine, insouciant joy, not unlike the pleasure I took as a child from the toys I really liked.
I left like I arrived, empty-handed. But the seed is now sown; or perhaps it was sown long ago, and it is now in full bloom.
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