bmattock
Veteran
A Salute to Crappy Cameras
I read with interest Joe's recent comments on 'New is Nice' with regard to his new Zeiss kit, and I understand what he means on one level. I like cars - nothing quite like buying a new car, where you know that everything works, you don't have to 'live with' or 'work around' anything - and if there is a problem, it can go right back to the dealer to be dealt with. I'm hip.
Others have suggested that perhaps this would be a good lesson to the newbie - consider buying new to start with. Avoid the problems that plague used and vintage camera kit, sidestep the frustrations of buying sight-unseen on eBoy and getting much less than you think you're getting. Buy the best and have a cracking good time right from the start. The thought has even been advanced that if you add up all the money one spends on gear that's a bit naff, one could easily afford at least one of the latest, greatest bit of kit out there.
Fair enough. But I think we're ignoring something important. A few things important, actually. Allow me to explain.
Cost As a Bar to Entry
For many of us - not all - we cannot afford to buy a new Zeiss or even a good used Leica M. A newer Summicron lens is more than some of us earn in a month. And if I did indeed spend as much or more (much, much, more) than a new M7 plus the full spread of lenses, Nokton and all, on less-than-pristine aging and barely competent camera gear, well, I didn't do so all at once. When I was a smoker, I spent thousands per year on fags - but not all at once, yeah?
If someone had said to me that I needed to pony up a few thousand dollars to buy a decent camera before I could learn more about rangefinder cameras and whether they held any interest for me, I would most likely have walked away in disgust. And in many hobbies, sports, or side-line interests, there is precious little choice but to cough up the dosh.
If one intends to engage in motor-car racing, one can do it on the cheap, but cheap is relative - we're still talking thousands. Same for horse-breeding and so on. You have to spend heavily just to get into the game.
But rangefinder cameras are not that way. A five-dollar Yashica GSN that works properly can take photographs that rival - no, they do not exceed - the finest Leitz glass in terms of technical quality. Most will admit that this is true in the most basic technical terms. One can invest a very small amount and be in the game. And like buying a pack of cigarettes, that first pack is very inexpensive. It's the lifelong addiction that will kill your wallet.
Social Status as a Bar to Entry
Some here may also be into such leisure pursuits as tend to be very insular and exclusive. They typify a person of a certain class, and they do not often find themselves hobnobbing with those of very different education or income levels, let alone different social or cultural backgrounds. This cuts both ways - I doubt you'd see the likes of me at a steeple-chase event, but no doubt some would shudder at the thought of joining me at the bowling alley for a pint and a pair of rented shoes.
Due primarily to the varying price points of capable rangefinder cameras, compounded by the great leveling effects of an 'as-anonymous-as-ya-wanna-be' web-based discussion forum, one can partake of the conversations without regard to social status or cultural background. There may be occasional statements thrown out that mark a person as being from a particular background or having a certain mindset or financial level, but by and large, the society is egalitarian. You're as 'equal' as you want to be. If one assumes a status as an oppressed minority, it is largely one's own choice here.
Here on RFF, reputation counts for more than money or background or possessions. If you can express yourself well, defend a point with logic, speak persuasively or just have good common sense, you'll be well thought of. Flame, and you'll often find yourself ostracized, if only temporarily (don't worry, I'm well aware of my own shortcomings in this area).
Camera Capability as a Bar to Entry
As I mentioned, a properly functioning Yashica Electro GSN can rival the lens of the finest Leitz product - and so can many others. The point is not that Leitz, Zeiss, and all the great names don't make lovely kit - the clearly do. The point is that there is not that much difference between the best and the nearly as good in terms of quality, but the difference in price can be staggering.
I can think of at least four vintage rangefinder cameras that are commonly available for less than fifty dollars in top-notch condition on eBoy that have viewfinders at least 75% as good as the best Leica M6. Their lenses are 95% of the best Leitz. Yes, they have fixed lenses, but they have manually-controlled shutter speeds, apertures, and they are easy to use. From fifty dollars to several thousand is a long way to go for such a minor return. I do not intend to speak out against spending that kind of money - when one is ready and wants the very best, then one should of course get an M6 or whatever one desires without reluctance. But there is nothing to be ashamed of with a good Canonet and a roll of film, either.
The Learning Curve
What does lens flare look like? What about a light leak? Incorrect shutter speeds, rangefinder a bit dodgy? Shutter stuck? Many of us here know. We had to - we bought a lot of crap and had to learn to recognize and fix the problems. Or we've watched and listened as others have done the experience bit.
Buying a used Triumph, one learns, of necessity, a bit about Lucas "Lord of Darkness" electrics and wiring. But it does teach one quite a bit about how cars function, or rather, how they are supposed to.
By the same token - I know from first-hand experience, that Olympus made inexpensive rangefinder cameras to a higher mechanical standard than Minolta (for xample). I know because I've been inside both of them. I have some understanding of how a rangefinder mechanism functions, because I've had to track down a mirror that had become unglued and was rattling around inside a camera I bought. I've always got Q-Tips and Zippo lighter fluid onhand because old shutters get stuck or become balky at times. I don't hesitate at all before removing the trim ring on a classic vintage fixed-lens rangefinder lens and pulling the elements out to get at the shutter leaves.
And none of them cost me the world. Yes, collectively, I have spent a lot. But little by little, as I could (or could not, ask my wife) afford it.
And with each dodgy shutter, each stuck f-stop, each filthy viewfinder or dim rangefinder patch - I learned more. With advice from those who had already done so, by searching the web, and with enthusiastic support from other RFF'ers, I made excellent cameras out of many so-so cameras - and completed the destruction of more than a few. Overall, my ratio of 'wins' is not so bad.
I have learned what matters a lot and what does not matter quite so much. For example, I do not fear buying a lens with dirt, fungus, or even (sometimes) scratches. I know not to pay as much or bid as high, and sometimes yes, the lens is beyond help - but other times, I've brought them back with a simple cleaning (after removing a few elements I could get to easily). I've learned that even seriously awful looking scratches seem to have very little effect on the photographs they take. I've learned the value of lens coatings and lens shades.
The Excellence of Many
By having owned many cheap (now, not when they were new) cameras, I have gained valuable experience - even about my own wants, desires, likes and dislikes. I know that the Olympus RC is one of my favorite cameras - it fits me like it was made for me, even though the RD is a technically superior camera. I can go through moods and phases - one week, the Yashica GSN gets a workout, the next week it is the Canonet.
I have learned the advantages and disadvantages of things like trigger wind (Ricoh 500 and Five-One-Nine), and bottom wind (Fujica 35-ML and Super Deluxe), of quirks and oddities in focus, wind, aperture, and even shutter release - what works and what doesn't.
If I know what the Yashica 'clunk' sounds like because I have one and have heard it personally. If I say that a Petri Racer is a capable camera, though a bit rattly and cheaply-made, it is because I have or have had one. If I opine that the Olympus RD lens is a titch better than the Olympus RC lens, it is because I have scanned identical negatives that I made with both of them.
If someone on RFF says that the Kajagoogoo 2000 was a fantastic camera and if much overlooked and undervalued, I can buy one cheaply (although RFF recommendations tend to make prices rise on eBoy) and find out for myself. If there is a sleeper third-party LTM lens for my Bessa R, I can probably set up an eBoy watch and snatch one up in the middle of the night and try it out for myself.
The Hand-Me-Down and Moving' On Up Experience
Some buy cheap, learn, and sell to move up the 'food chain' towards the truly great (and truly expensive) cameras and lenses. Others simply stockpile and seldom sell, although it may impede their ability to buy more expensive kit over time. But everyone who partakes of the pyramid of learning and experience seems to come away the better for it.
Assume one buys a Leica M7 and the best Summicron lens made of Bundes Absurdium with a lens hood of purest unobtainium as their very first camera. How are they likely to feel about a Yashica Electro GSN? I would suppose that they would find it a bit inferior, don't you? I would presume that they would exhibit very little interest in it. After all, it is inferior to the M7 in every way that can be measured - if only by a little in such things as lens quality - and the only thing that would make the GSN attractive (the price) has already been blown past.
But if one began with a GSN, found it exciting, fun, and quite capable as a shooter, it might have awakened a desire to see if there is something more. A Hi-Matic 7S, perhaps, or a Canonet QL-17 GIII. Maybe a foray into the strange-smelling world of the Zorkis and Kievs with FSU lenses of sub-optimal build quality but scarily-good optics (at their best).
Perhaps one might save up and buy a Bessa R or R2, et al, which represents about half-way up the food chain towards RFF nirvana and creamy goodness. An FSU lens from a Zorki, or a Canon or Nikon LTM lens gets one in the door and very near the quality of the 'best'.
The pursuit can become the challenge. Not only to find 'the best' out there (in whatever terms one defines the best as being), but to find the biggest bargain, the most unsung hero, the sleeper par excellence.
The Branching Out
And when a now-certified rangefinder lunatic is born, very often one finds a newly-minted fiend for cameras in general - and such associated madness as film processing, scanning, Photoshop, darkroom and inkjet printing. Suddenly, the idea of putting a 8x10 camera on a tripod and hiding under a big black hood to take a single photo that takes half-an-hour to set up and prepare for sounds like fun and not idiocy. One might begin to try their hand at processing their own B&W film at home - and then begin to try different developers - compare the differences - some have even begun to mix their own chemistry (late at night, cackling to themselves and whispering to their familiar spirits, no doubt).
What It Is All About
One might argue that the photograph is all that matters. And this has validity. Whether it was taken with a rangefinder or an SLR, digital or film, regardless of format, it is the photograph that is the final product.
But the destination is not always, and perhaps not often, the same as the goal. It is the pursuit that becomes the goal - the path more important than the end result - to the practitioner. Camera fondlers? Of course! And bit-twiddlers, alchemical magicians, lens polishers, name-droppers, contest enterers, pounce-trifles, and sometimes, once in a while - photographers again.
And make no mistake, most of us do go out and take photographs. And perhaps, just perhaps, our hard-won understanding of how sprocket A goes into slot B has helped us to visualize not just the whirring and clunking of the insides of our chosen bit of steel, brass, and glass, but has also helped us to become closer to the tool so that we can take a better photograph.
I could be hunkering down behind a brick wall near a train station late at night, waiting on the full moon and the arrival of the Silver Meteor to coincide so that I can get the optimal shot, one that would make O. Winston weep. I could be slipping on moss coating the rock I cling to while trying to reproduce the angle on El Capitan that would make my soul soar to see appear in my darkroom tray.
But instead, many an evening, I find myself sitting in front of my computer, absent-mindedly reading RFF struggles, arguments, reasoned discussions, and many opinings as I learn how to juggle three tiny little bits with my fat fingers to get the top back on a Fujica 35-ML after having taken it off and watching the tiny parts dance around the floor to the amusement of my dogs earlier that same night.
And when I do it, and it all works, I am glad I am here. For me, it started with a busted Yashica Electro 35 GT and a Yashica 635 TLR. I don't have a Leica yet, though I may someday. Or I may never. And I have a stack of broken cameras that I paid a bit too much for that I hide in the closet and avoid looking at. It's all good.
Shabby old kit and all.
Best Regards,
Bill Mattocks
Chevalier Mal Fet
OoGH (Order of the Gear-Head), DoRF (Defender of the Rangefinder Faith)
I read with interest Joe's recent comments on 'New is Nice' with regard to his new Zeiss kit, and I understand what he means on one level. I like cars - nothing quite like buying a new car, where you know that everything works, you don't have to 'live with' or 'work around' anything - and if there is a problem, it can go right back to the dealer to be dealt with. I'm hip.
Others have suggested that perhaps this would be a good lesson to the newbie - consider buying new to start with. Avoid the problems that plague used and vintage camera kit, sidestep the frustrations of buying sight-unseen on eBoy and getting much less than you think you're getting. Buy the best and have a cracking good time right from the start. The thought has even been advanced that if you add up all the money one spends on gear that's a bit naff, one could easily afford at least one of the latest, greatest bit of kit out there.
Fair enough. But I think we're ignoring something important. A few things important, actually. Allow me to explain.
Cost As a Bar to Entry
For many of us - not all - we cannot afford to buy a new Zeiss or even a good used Leica M. A newer Summicron lens is more than some of us earn in a month. And if I did indeed spend as much or more (much, much, more) than a new M7 plus the full spread of lenses, Nokton and all, on less-than-pristine aging and barely competent camera gear, well, I didn't do so all at once. When I was a smoker, I spent thousands per year on fags - but not all at once, yeah?
If someone had said to me that I needed to pony up a few thousand dollars to buy a decent camera before I could learn more about rangefinder cameras and whether they held any interest for me, I would most likely have walked away in disgust. And in many hobbies, sports, or side-line interests, there is precious little choice but to cough up the dosh.
If one intends to engage in motor-car racing, one can do it on the cheap, but cheap is relative - we're still talking thousands. Same for horse-breeding and so on. You have to spend heavily just to get into the game.
But rangefinder cameras are not that way. A five-dollar Yashica GSN that works properly can take photographs that rival - no, they do not exceed - the finest Leitz glass in terms of technical quality. Most will admit that this is true in the most basic technical terms. One can invest a very small amount and be in the game. And like buying a pack of cigarettes, that first pack is very inexpensive. It's the lifelong addiction that will kill your wallet.
Social Status as a Bar to Entry
Some here may also be into such leisure pursuits as tend to be very insular and exclusive. They typify a person of a certain class, and they do not often find themselves hobnobbing with those of very different education or income levels, let alone different social or cultural backgrounds. This cuts both ways - I doubt you'd see the likes of me at a steeple-chase event, but no doubt some would shudder at the thought of joining me at the bowling alley for a pint and a pair of rented shoes.
Due primarily to the varying price points of capable rangefinder cameras, compounded by the great leveling effects of an 'as-anonymous-as-ya-wanna-be' web-based discussion forum, one can partake of the conversations without regard to social status or cultural background. There may be occasional statements thrown out that mark a person as being from a particular background or having a certain mindset or financial level, but by and large, the society is egalitarian. You're as 'equal' as you want to be. If one assumes a status as an oppressed minority, it is largely one's own choice here.
Here on RFF, reputation counts for more than money or background or possessions. If you can express yourself well, defend a point with logic, speak persuasively or just have good common sense, you'll be well thought of. Flame, and you'll often find yourself ostracized, if only temporarily (don't worry, I'm well aware of my own shortcomings in this area).
Camera Capability as a Bar to Entry
As I mentioned, a properly functioning Yashica Electro GSN can rival the lens of the finest Leitz product - and so can many others. The point is not that Leitz, Zeiss, and all the great names don't make lovely kit - the clearly do. The point is that there is not that much difference between the best and the nearly as good in terms of quality, but the difference in price can be staggering.
I can think of at least four vintage rangefinder cameras that are commonly available for less than fifty dollars in top-notch condition on eBoy that have viewfinders at least 75% as good as the best Leica M6. Their lenses are 95% of the best Leitz. Yes, they have fixed lenses, but they have manually-controlled shutter speeds, apertures, and they are easy to use. From fifty dollars to several thousand is a long way to go for such a minor return. I do not intend to speak out against spending that kind of money - when one is ready and wants the very best, then one should of course get an M6 or whatever one desires without reluctance. But there is nothing to be ashamed of with a good Canonet and a roll of film, either.
The Learning Curve
What does lens flare look like? What about a light leak? Incorrect shutter speeds, rangefinder a bit dodgy? Shutter stuck? Many of us here know. We had to - we bought a lot of crap and had to learn to recognize and fix the problems. Or we've watched and listened as others have done the experience bit.
Buying a used Triumph, one learns, of necessity, a bit about Lucas "Lord of Darkness" electrics and wiring. But it does teach one quite a bit about how cars function, or rather, how they are supposed to.
By the same token - I know from first-hand experience, that Olympus made inexpensive rangefinder cameras to a higher mechanical standard than Minolta (for xample). I know because I've been inside both of them. I have some understanding of how a rangefinder mechanism functions, because I've had to track down a mirror that had become unglued and was rattling around inside a camera I bought. I've always got Q-Tips and Zippo lighter fluid onhand because old shutters get stuck or become balky at times. I don't hesitate at all before removing the trim ring on a classic vintage fixed-lens rangefinder lens and pulling the elements out to get at the shutter leaves.
And none of them cost me the world. Yes, collectively, I have spent a lot. But little by little, as I could (or could not, ask my wife) afford it.
And with each dodgy shutter, each stuck f-stop, each filthy viewfinder or dim rangefinder patch - I learned more. With advice from those who had already done so, by searching the web, and with enthusiastic support from other RFF'ers, I made excellent cameras out of many so-so cameras - and completed the destruction of more than a few. Overall, my ratio of 'wins' is not so bad.
I have learned what matters a lot and what does not matter quite so much. For example, I do not fear buying a lens with dirt, fungus, or even (sometimes) scratches. I know not to pay as much or bid as high, and sometimes yes, the lens is beyond help - but other times, I've brought them back with a simple cleaning (after removing a few elements I could get to easily). I've learned that even seriously awful looking scratches seem to have very little effect on the photographs they take. I've learned the value of lens coatings and lens shades.
The Excellence of Many
By having owned many cheap (now, not when they were new) cameras, I have gained valuable experience - even about my own wants, desires, likes and dislikes. I know that the Olympus RC is one of my favorite cameras - it fits me like it was made for me, even though the RD is a technically superior camera. I can go through moods and phases - one week, the Yashica GSN gets a workout, the next week it is the Canonet.
I have learned the advantages and disadvantages of things like trigger wind (Ricoh 500 and Five-One-Nine), and bottom wind (Fujica 35-ML and Super Deluxe), of quirks and oddities in focus, wind, aperture, and even shutter release - what works and what doesn't.
If I know what the Yashica 'clunk' sounds like because I have one and have heard it personally. If I say that a Petri Racer is a capable camera, though a bit rattly and cheaply-made, it is because I have or have had one. If I opine that the Olympus RD lens is a titch better than the Olympus RC lens, it is because I have scanned identical negatives that I made with both of them.
If someone on RFF says that the Kajagoogoo 2000 was a fantastic camera and if much overlooked and undervalued, I can buy one cheaply (although RFF recommendations tend to make prices rise on eBoy) and find out for myself. If there is a sleeper third-party LTM lens for my Bessa R, I can probably set up an eBoy watch and snatch one up in the middle of the night and try it out for myself.
The Hand-Me-Down and Moving' On Up Experience
Some buy cheap, learn, and sell to move up the 'food chain' towards the truly great (and truly expensive) cameras and lenses. Others simply stockpile and seldom sell, although it may impede their ability to buy more expensive kit over time. But everyone who partakes of the pyramid of learning and experience seems to come away the better for it.
Assume one buys a Leica M7 and the best Summicron lens made of Bundes Absurdium with a lens hood of purest unobtainium as their very first camera. How are they likely to feel about a Yashica Electro GSN? I would suppose that they would find it a bit inferior, don't you? I would presume that they would exhibit very little interest in it. After all, it is inferior to the M7 in every way that can be measured - if only by a little in such things as lens quality - and the only thing that would make the GSN attractive (the price) has already been blown past.
But if one began with a GSN, found it exciting, fun, and quite capable as a shooter, it might have awakened a desire to see if there is something more. A Hi-Matic 7S, perhaps, or a Canonet QL-17 GIII. Maybe a foray into the strange-smelling world of the Zorkis and Kievs with FSU lenses of sub-optimal build quality but scarily-good optics (at their best).
Perhaps one might save up and buy a Bessa R or R2, et al, which represents about half-way up the food chain towards RFF nirvana and creamy goodness. An FSU lens from a Zorki, or a Canon or Nikon LTM lens gets one in the door and very near the quality of the 'best'.
The pursuit can become the challenge. Not only to find 'the best' out there (in whatever terms one defines the best as being), but to find the biggest bargain, the most unsung hero, the sleeper par excellence.
The Branching Out
And when a now-certified rangefinder lunatic is born, very often one finds a newly-minted fiend for cameras in general - and such associated madness as film processing, scanning, Photoshop, darkroom and inkjet printing. Suddenly, the idea of putting a 8x10 camera on a tripod and hiding under a big black hood to take a single photo that takes half-an-hour to set up and prepare for sounds like fun and not idiocy. One might begin to try their hand at processing their own B&W film at home - and then begin to try different developers - compare the differences - some have even begun to mix their own chemistry (late at night, cackling to themselves and whispering to their familiar spirits, no doubt).
What It Is All About
One might argue that the photograph is all that matters. And this has validity. Whether it was taken with a rangefinder or an SLR, digital or film, regardless of format, it is the photograph that is the final product.
But the destination is not always, and perhaps not often, the same as the goal. It is the pursuit that becomes the goal - the path more important than the end result - to the practitioner. Camera fondlers? Of course! And bit-twiddlers, alchemical magicians, lens polishers, name-droppers, contest enterers, pounce-trifles, and sometimes, once in a while - photographers again.
And make no mistake, most of us do go out and take photographs. And perhaps, just perhaps, our hard-won understanding of how sprocket A goes into slot B has helped us to visualize not just the whirring and clunking of the insides of our chosen bit of steel, brass, and glass, but has also helped us to become closer to the tool so that we can take a better photograph.
I could be hunkering down behind a brick wall near a train station late at night, waiting on the full moon and the arrival of the Silver Meteor to coincide so that I can get the optimal shot, one that would make O. Winston weep. I could be slipping on moss coating the rock I cling to while trying to reproduce the angle on El Capitan that would make my soul soar to see appear in my darkroom tray.
But instead, many an evening, I find myself sitting in front of my computer, absent-mindedly reading RFF struggles, arguments, reasoned discussions, and many opinings as I learn how to juggle three tiny little bits with my fat fingers to get the top back on a Fujica 35-ML after having taken it off and watching the tiny parts dance around the floor to the amusement of my dogs earlier that same night.
And when I do it, and it all works, I am glad I am here. For me, it started with a busted Yashica Electro 35 GT and a Yashica 635 TLR. I don't have a Leica yet, though I may someday. Or I may never. And I have a stack of broken cameras that I paid a bit too much for that I hide in the closet and avoid looking at. It's all good.
Shabby old kit and all.
Best Regards,
Bill Mattocks
Chevalier Mal Fet
OoGH (Order of the Gear-Head), DoRF (Defender of the Rangefinder Faith)
