The Rambunctious Life & Times of Jason Schneider, Part 1
How an eccentric English major became the editor of 2 top photo mags.
By Jason Schneider
The car not driven to Woodstock. Maybelline, my '56 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, looked as good as this one, but I didn't trust her cooling system.
Back in 1969 I made two fateful decisions that were destined to alter the course of my life. First, I wisely decided not to make the trek to the Woodstock Music Festival because my only vehicle was Maybelline, a great white 1956 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, and I wasn’t about to take the chance of getting stuck in an overheated land yacht on the NY State Thruway. Second, I decided to present my idea for a series of articles on camera collecting to my favorite photo magazines, Modern Photography and Popular Photography. Glenda, my beautiful bride, and I had been married for only a year and we still resided in our first tiny apartment at 194 W. 10th St. in New York’s Greenwich Village. We were both in our ‘20s (sigh) and Glenda was holding down a real job as an Art Teacher in a New York City elementary school (she has an M.A. in Art Education). Meanwhile, I was bouncing around as a freelance photographer, shooting whatever assignments I could get, from weddings and Bar Mitzvahs, to aspiring model’s portfolios, to educational film strips. I wasn’t really looking for a fulltime job, but I thought that by pitching a few articles I might be able to monetize my passion for old cameras and maybe get my name out there.
The elegant main entrance to swanky 1 Park Ave., New York where Popular Photograpy's editorial offices were located in 1969.
The nice guy who turned me down: The late Ken Poli, longtime editor of Popular Photography, was a stand-up guy and a great journalist.
I bought my first serious camera (an East German Belfoca roll film folder) at age 14 and started buying photo magazines on the newsstand (remember those?) about a year later. I could’ve saved quite a bit by subscribing to both Modern and Pop Photo because I bought 10 out of 12 monthly issues at full retail, but I never did—financial acumen was never my strong suit. Anyway, one fine day in the fall of 1969, I wrote up a proposal (in longhand!), placed a half dozen of my favorite collectible cameras in a ratty old leather camera bag, put on my one and only suit, and marched up to the editorial offices of Popular Photography at 1 Park Ave. Eventually I was escorted into a conference room, briefly met Jim Zanutto, then Editor in Chief, and had a 10-minute sit-down discussion of my proposal with editor Ken Poli, a gracious, soft-spoken man who did his best to let me down easy. “This is really a nice idea, and it may well find a welcome reception at another publication, but it’s not for us,” he concluded, and we shook hands as I departed, hat in hand. But before I could reach the exit, I was accosted by longtime Pop Photo staffer Norman Rothschild who took me aside out of earshot and delivered a shocking tirade, full of unbridled intensity and replete with colorful expletives. The gist of it: “The MF SOBs on this GD magazine wouldn’t know a good idea if it bit them in the leg. Take this over to Burt Keppler at Modern Photography. He will appreciate it!”
The late, great Herbert (Burt) Keppler, my beloved mentor. He was a great writer, a great man, and a fierce advocate for honesty and integrity.
In retrospect, the most amazing aspect of this story is that I didn’t pitch my idea to Modern Photography in the first place. It was by far my favorite American photo enthusiast publication (though I enjoyed reading Pop Photo, U.S. Camera, and Camera 35) and Herbert (Burt) Keppler was the most engaging and empathetic writer in the field. Anyway, shortly after I made my pitch to Burt Keppler, he gave it the OK and I signed on to do a series of 4 articles. Burt also came up with the title for what eventually became my column that ran in Modern and Pop for over 35 years, The Camera Collector. Burt asked me if I could provide professional photos of all the cameras and of course I said yes even though I didn’t have access to a studio at the time. So, I shot them on the flat tar roof of my 1885 apartment building with a tripod mounted 9 x 12cm Voigtlander Avus film pack camera with a 6 x 9cm Rada roll film adapter, and developed and printed them myself. Result: the cameras appearing in my first 4 column starting in October 1969 are very sharp and detailed, but the harsh direct sunlight didn’t do wonders for their tonal gradation, and they look, well, amateurish. I should have used a reflector, a diffuser, or waited for an overcast day—aka God’s soft box. Kismet.
Building at 1440 Broadway where Modern Photgraphy's editorial offices were located in 1969.
Whatever their technical deficiencies may have been, my first Camera Collector columns for Modern Photography were very well received by the readers and were soon expanded into a monthly series. And although I was still only a columnist, I started hanging around Modern’s editorial offices on a regular basis. It was there that I met Jeff McCallum (I hope that’s the right spelling) a bright young guy with some photo science training under his belt, who was running Modern’s test lab under the astute guidance of Bennett Sherman, a PhD in Physics and a genuine expert on optics and mechanical systems. It was Sherman and Keppler who configured Modern’s original test lab and equipped it with, among ither things, a Zelox shutter speed tester, a Zelox exposure (light level) tester, a lens collimator, and a Gaertner optical bench. I got along famously with Jeff since we were both “irreverent and sarcastic young weisenheimers” and he taught me a lot about camera testing and proper lab procedures that would later prove more useful than I could have possibly imagined at the time.
Page 1 of my first Camera Collector column in Modern Photography, Oct. 1969 as republished in Jason Schneider on Camera Collecting No.1.
Sometime in early 1970 Jeff McCallum received a little billet-doux from Uncle Sam notifying him that he was drafted into the U.S. Army and would most likely have to serve in Vietnam. While Jeff was not pleased about having to leave Modern and may have thought about devising some stratagem that would allow him to stay, there was one little problem—his father was a U.S. Army Colonel, and he was evidently a stern guy who called the shots. As a result Jeff departed Modern Photography, presumably for the military (I sure hope he’s still alive and well) and I, who was fortuitously waiting in the wings, was named Assistant Editor at Modern Photography, a fulltime position. I continued to write The Camera Collector column and being an incurable wag and miscreant, at the time I signed all my correspondence Ass. Ed.
Photo of yours truly in 1978 from back cover of Jason Schneider On Camera Collecting, Book 1.
Cover of Jason Schneider on Camera Collecting Book 1, published in 1978. It showcases cameras as the technological works of art they are.
Although I learned a lot working as the de facto lab tech at Modern for about a year and a half, and even devised a couple of improvements to the test procedures (such as through-focus resolution testing at maximum aperture to identify and correct resolution discrepancies) I was overjoyed when Burt Keppler hired a young Japanese technician from the JCII (Japan Camera Inspection Institute) to run the lab. Instituting high level objective camera and lens testing was one of Burt Keppler’s most cherished goals and I am happy to have played some infinitesimal part in achieving it.
How an eccentric English major became the editor of 2 top photo mags.
By Jason Schneider
The car not driven to Woodstock. Maybelline, my '56 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, looked as good as this one, but I didn't trust her cooling system.
Back in 1969 I made two fateful decisions that were destined to alter the course of my life. First, I wisely decided not to make the trek to the Woodstock Music Festival because my only vehicle was Maybelline, a great white 1956 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, and I wasn’t about to take the chance of getting stuck in an overheated land yacht on the NY State Thruway. Second, I decided to present my idea for a series of articles on camera collecting to my favorite photo magazines, Modern Photography and Popular Photography. Glenda, my beautiful bride, and I had been married for only a year and we still resided in our first tiny apartment at 194 W. 10th St. in New York’s Greenwich Village. We were both in our ‘20s (sigh) and Glenda was holding down a real job as an Art Teacher in a New York City elementary school (she has an M.A. in Art Education). Meanwhile, I was bouncing around as a freelance photographer, shooting whatever assignments I could get, from weddings and Bar Mitzvahs, to aspiring model’s portfolios, to educational film strips. I wasn’t really looking for a fulltime job, but I thought that by pitching a few articles I might be able to monetize my passion for old cameras and maybe get my name out there.
The elegant main entrance to swanky 1 Park Ave., New York where Popular Photograpy's editorial offices were located in 1969.
The nice guy who turned me down: The late Ken Poli, longtime editor of Popular Photography, was a stand-up guy and a great journalist.
I bought my first serious camera (an East German Belfoca roll film folder) at age 14 and started buying photo magazines on the newsstand (remember those?) about a year later. I could’ve saved quite a bit by subscribing to both Modern and Pop Photo because I bought 10 out of 12 monthly issues at full retail, but I never did—financial acumen was never my strong suit. Anyway, one fine day in the fall of 1969, I wrote up a proposal (in longhand!), placed a half dozen of my favorite collectible cameras in a ratty old leather camera bag, put on my one and only suit, and marched up to the editorial offices of Popular Photography at 1 Park Ave. Eventually I was escorted into a conference room, briefly met Jim Zanutto, then Editor in Chief, and had a 10-minute sit-down discussion of my proposal with editor Ken Poli, a gracious, soft-spoken man who did his best to let me down easy. “This is really a nice idea, and it may well find a welcome reception at another publication, but it’s not for us,” he concluded, and we shook hands as I departed, hat in hand. But before I could reach the exit, I was accosted by longtime Pop Photo staffer Norman Rothschild who took me aside out of earshot and delivered a shocking tirade, full of unbridled intensity and replete with colorful expletives. The gist of it: “The MF SOBs on this GD magazine wouldn’t know a good idea if it bit them in the leg. Take this over to Burt Keppler at Modern Photography. He will appreciate it!”
The late, great Herbert (Burt) Keppler, my beloved mentor. He was a great writer, a great man, and a fierce advocate for honesty and integrity.
In retrospect, the most amazing aspect of this story is that I didn’t pitch my idea to Modern Photography in the first place. It was by far my favorite American photo enthusiast publication (though I enjoyed reading Pop Photo, U.S. Camera, and Camera 35) and Herbert (Burt) Keppler was the most engaging and empathetic writer in the field. Anyway, shortly after I made my pitch to Burt Keppler, he gave it the OK and I signed on to do a series of 4 articles. Burt also came up with the title for what eventually became my column that ran in Modern and Pop for over 35 years, The Camera Collector. Burt asked me if I could provide professional photos of all the cameras and of course I said yes even though I didn’t have access to a studio at the time. So, I shot them on the flat tar roof of my 1885 apartment building with a tripod mounted 9 x 12cm Voigtlander Avus film pack camera with a 6 x 9cm Rada roll film adapter, and developed and printed them myself. Result: the cameras appearing in my first 4 column starting in October 1969 are very sharp and detailed, but the harsh direct sunlight didn’t do wonders for their tonal gradation, and they look, well, amateurish. I should have used a reflector, a diffuser, or waited for an overcast day—aka God’s soft box. Kismet.
Building at 1440 Broadway where Modern Photgraphy's editorial offices were located in 1969.
Whatever their technical deficiencies may have been, my first Camera Collector columns for Modern Photography were very well received by the readers and were soon expanded into a monthly series. And although I was still only a columnist, I started hanging around Modern’s editorial offices on a regular basis. It was there that I met Jeff McCallum (I hope that’s the right spelling) a bright young guy with some photo science training under his belt, who was running Modern’s test lab under the astute guidance of Bennett Sherman, a PhD in Physics and a genuine expert on optics and mechanical systems. It was Sherman and Keppler who configured Modern’s original test lab and equipped it with, among ither things, a Zelox shutter speed tester, a Zelox exposure (light level) tester, a lens collimator, and a Gaertner optical bench. I got along famously with Jeff since we were both “irreverent and sarcastic young weisenheimers” and he taught me a lot about camera testing and proper lab procedures that would later prove more useful than I could have possibly imagined at the time.
Page 1 of my first Camera Collector column in Modern Photography, Oct. 1969 as republished in Jason Schneider on Camera Collecting No.1.
Sometime in early 1970 Jeff McCallum received a little billet-doux from Uncle Sam notifying him that he was drafted into the U.S. Army and would most likely have to serve in Vietnam. While Jeff was not pleased about having to leave Modern and may have thought about devising some stratagem that would allow him to stay, there was one little problem—his father was a U.S. Army Colonel, and he was evidently a stern guy who called the shots. As a result Jeff departed Modern Photography, presumably for the military (I sure hope he’s still alive and well) and I, who was fortuitously waiting in the wings, was named Assistant Editor at Modern Photography, a fulltime position. I continued to write The Camera Collector column and being an incurable wag and miscreant, at the time I signed all my correspondence Ass. Ed.
Photo of yours truly in 1978 from back cover of Jason Schneider On Camera Collecting, Book 1.
Cover of Jason Schneider on Camera Collecting Book 1, published in 1978. It showcases cameras as the technological works of art they are.
Although I learned a lot working as the de facto lab tech at Modern for about a year and a half, and even devised a couple of improvements to the test procedures (such as through-focus resolution testing at maximum aperture to identify and correct resolution discrepancies) I was overjoyed when Burt Keppler hired a young Japanese technician from the JCII (Japan Camera Inspection Institute) to run the lab. Instituting high level objective camera and lens testing was one of Burt Keppler’s most cherished goals and I am happy to have played some infinitesimal part in achieving it.
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