What Were They Thinking? A compendium of camera design blunders and omissions

What Were They Thinking?
A compendium of classic camera design blunders and omissions

By Jason Schneider

Over the past 180 years or so, a vast amount of talent, effort and thought has gone into designing cameras, and the best ones of any era are masterpieces of ingenuity and craftsmanship that enable photographers to articulate their vision seamlessly, often at a high level of technical excellence. However, nothing created by humans is perfect, and even the best cameras are beset with everything from minor foibles to inherent limitations imposed by their basic design parameters. Some older camera designs (such as the Canon 7 of 1961 to 1964 with its huge clunky built in selenium meter) were limited by the technology of the day, while others reflect questionable decisions made by designers, engineers, and marketing mavens. Herewith a collection of my favorite dummheits (stupidities) and head-scratching omissions, starting with the fabled Kodak of 1888, arguably the first successful mass market camera.

Original Kodak of 1888 with barrel-type shutter. V-shaped patterm inscribed in leather at fron...jpg
Original Kodak of 1888 with barrel-type shutter. V-shaped pattern inscribed in leather at front of top to aid composition is barely visble here.

The first Kodak and the first Brownie: What—no viewfinders?!

The Kodak of 1888, the first camera marketed by the Eastman Dry Plate & Film Co. of Rochester, New York, is, in the opinion of most historians, the most important series-production camera ever made. What makes this humble-looking box camera so consequential is not its ingenious construction or technical brilliance, both of which are noteworthy, but the idea it embodied— a camera capable of producing satisfying photographs in the hands of ordinary people having no special technical skills. When the Kodak was announced in 1888. photography had progressed from the Daguerreotype and wet plate days when photographers literally had to prepare their own plates, but it was still an arcane pursuit requiring considerable expertise and dedication, particularly in the darkroom. What the Kodak offered, for the then-handsome sum of $25 (equivalent to a staggering $821.93 in 2024 dollars!), was an unintimidating, easy-to use, portable box camera with no adjustments, that was pre-loaded with roll film sufficient for 100 exposures. When you were finished shooting the roll, you shipped the camera back to Eastman in Rochester, along with $10 (a hefty $328.77 in 2024 dollars). For this tidy sum they developed the film, transferred each negative to a sheet of glass for contact printing (because the 2-3/4-inch-wide “stripping film” was mounted on a non-transparent paper backing) made one print from each good negative, reloaded the camera with film for 100 more exposures, and returned it to the owner. In the context of the 19th century, the Kodak was the world’s first successful point-and-shoot, and the camera that really created the modern photofinishing industry.

kodak-camera-and-photo.jpg

The Kodak of 1888 (left) and a well dressed Victorian era woman holding the camera in shooting position. Images like this were used in ads.

The Kodak, manufactured for The Eastman Dry Plate & Film Co. by George Brownell of Rochester, New York (who may also have had a hand in its production engineering) is a wooden-bodied box camera clad in Turkey morocco with “nickel and brass trimmings and inclosed in a neat sole leather case with shoulder strap.” Described as “about the size of a large field glass” it measures 3-1/4 x 3-1/4 x 6-1/2 inches and weighs 1lb. 10 oz. It produced circular pictures 2-1/2 inches in diameter on 2-3/4-inch-wide flexible film, had no frame counter (you stopped winding the film-advance key when the rotating pattern in a little round window had gone through one full turn!), and it had no viewfinder—you aimed it with the aid of two lines, in a V pattern, engraved into the leather top. The lens, contained in a unique barrel-type shutter that revolved on an axis parallel to the film plane, was a 57mm f/9 Rapid Rectilinear. Based on the format it was a wide-angle, which gave good depth of field, but image quality in the corners of the field would have been poor, so the corner-less circular format made sense technically. The shutter, which was manually cocked with a pull cord. provided a single shutter speed of about 1/25 sec. The camera also came with a felt plug, in effect a lens cap, which fit into the lens surround on the front of the camera and could be removed and replaced for making time exposures. The shutter-release button was on the left, a tripod socket oddly placed on the top—but with no viewfinder this hardly mattered!

Original Kodak Brownie pf 1900 with rare accessory clip-on viewfinder.jpg
Original Kodak Brownie of 1900 with rare accessory clip-on viewfinder. Camera sold for only $1.00; the viewfinder was 25 cents extra!

Despite its spartan simplicity, ample price, and the inconvenience of having to return the camera for processing, the Kodak was a phenomenal success—about 25,000 were sold in the first year of production—because it was the first camera that enabled anyone to take pictures, and it was aggressively marketed with a brilliant advertising campaign. Eastman’s astute grasp of human psychology and motivation is evident in these quotes from an1888 Kodak ad, “Anybody who can wind a watch can use the Kodak Camera…No tripod, no focusing, no adjustment whatever…A picturesque diary of your trip…may be obtained without trouble that will be worth a hundred times its cost in after years.” In 1889, it was “1. Pull the cord 2. Turn the key 3. Press the button. And so on for 100 pictures.” This was later refined into the greatest photographic advertising slogan of all time, “You press the button, we do the rest.”

Those too impatient to send their cameras to Rochester could buy darkroom-loadable 100-exposure film spools for $2 apiece, and develop and print their own film, or send the exposed film back to Rochester and have it processed and returned with a fresh roll for $10. While The Kodak was certainly ingenious, none of its features, except for the barrel shutter, was unique, but the concept of a stone simple roll film camera, squarely aimed at the middle-to-upper-class mass market and the forward-looking marketing techniques used to promote it ultimately brought photography within the reach of hundreds of millions of people. More than any other single camera, the Kodak helped to create the modern photographic industry by transforming the act of taking pictures into a universal human experience.

An original Kodak Camera, one of the holy grails of camera collecting, now verges on being a museum piece. Early barrel-shutter models in good condition sell in the $4000-5000 range, though a truly pristine and complete example with case and instruction manual could easily fetch much more. Later models with the classic “safety-pin” metal-bladed shutter are worth less but are still scarce and collectible.

The original Kodak Brownie: Still no viewfinder!

Now you would think that 12 years would be sufficient for Kodak to develop a box camera with a real viewfinder, but no. Like the Kodak of 1888, the original Kodak Brownie of 1900 had no viewfinder, only framing lines in a 60° V-pattern inscribed on its top, with the open end of the V pointing forward toward the subject. However, it was a simple, competent, easy-to-use, daylight-loadable camera at the then-unprecedented price of $1.00. And by putting a brilliantly conceived mass-marketing program behind it, Kodak was literally able to motivate millions to buy it. The Brownie’s success was unprecedented—in the first year alone, over 150,000 cameras were shipped, three times the previous record. To get a clearer idea of the impact of the Brownie, check out one of the many timelines of the 20th century and go to the year 1900. Right up there, along with such momentous events as Max Planck’s formulation of the quantum theory and the publication of Sigmund Freud’s “The Interpretation of Dreams” is Kodak’s introduction of the $1 Brownie camera!

The Brownie got its name from artist Palmer Cox’s whimsical cartoon versions of Brownies--“hard-working Scottish sprites or elves who did household chores” --that were as popular in the 1880-1920 period as Mickey Mouse is today. Some have conjectured that the name was an oblique tribute to Frank A. Brownell, who was responsible for its design and manufacture, but this is not the case. In any event, the Brownie is about as simple and basic as a camera can get—an imitation-leather covered cardboard box, with wooden film carrier, measuring about 3 x 3 x 5 inches. It has a simple fixed-focus f/11 meniscus lens, and metal rotary shutter with a single speed of about 1/35-1/50 sec plus T. However, starting in July 1900, a small clip-on accessory reflex viewfinder was offered for 25 cents! The film-winding key was detachable and often lost, which is why many original Brownies are found with soldered-on, non-standard keys. The first 15,000 Brownies were fitted with a push-on cardboard box lid back that proved unreliable and was soon replaced (March 1900) with a bottom-hinged back with a nice, nickel-plated sliding latch on top. Despite its modest specs, the original Kodak Brownie did score one extremely important historical distinction—it pioneered No.117 film, thus making it the world’s first 2-1/4 x 2-1/4-inch roll film camera. The117 size, essentially 6-exposures of 120 film on a narrower-flanged spool, is long defunct, but the glorious 2-1/4 square roll film format is still very much alive in 120-format. Also, that accessory viewfinder proved so popular that all subsequent Box Brownies had small built-in reflex viewfinders for composing pictures in horizontal or vertical orientations.

The Brownie was certainly the right product at the right time, at the right price with a catchy name. But what really transformed it into an enduring American icon that sired generations of Kodak Brownies up until the ‘70s and inspired countless imitators worldwide, was Kodak’s ingenious and aggressive marketing plan. Brownies were advertised in popular magazines rather than trade magazines. Ads stressed it could be “operated by any schoolboy or girl” and kids were urged to join The Brownie Camera Club, which had no initiation fee, and whose object was “to increase the interest of American boys and girls in matters pertaining to photography.” Kodak ran picture contests and awarded prizes. A roll of film, called a “Transparent-Film Cartridge, 6 exposures 2-1/4 x 2-1/4” cost 15 cents, a box of paper, 10 cents, and a Brownie Developing and Printing Outfit, 75 cents. At the bottom of many ads was a small box with the message “Send a dollar to your local Kodak Dealer for a Brownie Camera. If there is no dealer in your area, send us a dollar and we will ship the camera promptly.” With the arrival of the Brownie, anyone could take photographs of everything from special occasions to everyday life, and to do so inexpensively. The era of the snapshot had dawned, and the world would never be the same.

Today, an original Brownie camera with “shoe box” back cover and accessory viewfinder is a rare bird indeed and a collector’s prize valued at about $2000. The later, improved version with hinged back, also a primo collectible, sells for about $300-500 with original winding key and box. The long-running #2 Brownie (1901-1933), that took 120 film and had a 2-1/4 x 3-1/4-inch format, is a nice user-collectible that sells for $35-50 and is recommended to anyone who wants to experience the joys of shooting with a classic box camera. Despite their modest specs they can take surprisingly sharp, detailed pictures—providing you don’t get closer than about 5 feet from the subject.

Barnack Leicas: Bottom loading Leicas and their discontents

Oskar Barnack was the principal inventor of the original Leica I (Model A) of 1925, a masterfully integrated, 35mm precision miniature still picture camera that was destined to alter the course of photography in the 20th century. His achievement in building a coupled rangefinder system with interchangeable lenses into the Leica II (Model D) of 1932 while maintaining the same size, form factor, and ergonomics of his original masterpiece is nothing less than astounding. Indeed, every screw mount Leica up to and including the coveted Leica IIIg of 1957 to 1960 is a “Barnack Leica” because it incorporates many of the farsighted concepts he had laid down in the ‘20s and ‘30s.

Leica I (Model A) bottom view,, with base plate removed for loading. Note latch with hinged D-...jpg
Leica I (Model A) bottom view,, with base plate removed for loading. Note latch with hinged D-shaped handle that opens inserted Leca cassettes when handle is turrned to "closed" locking position.

Leica i (model A with base plate removed for loading.jpg

Leica I (model A) with base plate removed for loading. Bottom loading requires a removable spool, tapered film leader, some manual dexterity.

All Barnack Leicas feature “unibody” construction—the basic chassis is a single piece of aluminum alloy rather than an assemblage of parts. This enhances structural integrity and enables precise lens-to-film- plane alignment, critical in achieving outstanding image quality with the small 24 x 36mm format, which requires greater enlargement to yield standard print sizes of 8 x 10 inches or larger. The basic body structure of all Leicas from the Leica I (model A) of 1925 to the Leica IIIb of 1938 to 1941 was formed by flattening a round metal tube by applying high pressure on 2 sides to achieve the classic slim body shape with rounded ends. The body was then cut to size vertically, machined to precise tolerances to accept the lens mount and internal parts, and covered in leather-textured black Vulcanite. Starting with the Leica IIIc of 1940, screw mount Barnack Leicas used a 3mm longer, one-piece diecast alloy chassis with an integral rangefinder cover, and had upgraded internals, a larger shutter release, and a new frame counter mechanism. The Leica IIId (a rare version of the IIIc), the Leica IIIf black dial of 1950, and the Leica IIIf red dial of 1952 (both with built-in flash sync) were built on the same diecast chassis as the IIIc, and the last screw-mount Leica, the IIIg of 1957-1960 used a taller body casting to accommodate the new larger viewfinder with projected frame lines for 50mm and 90mm lenses.

Leica II (Model D) Front View  showing added strap lugs,  nickel hardware and 50mm f:2.5 Hekt...jpeg
Leica II (Model D) of 1932 with nickel hardware, 50mm f/2.5 Hektor lens. Integrating an interchangeable lens system with coupled rangefinder into virtually the same minuscule form factor as the original Leica I (Model A) was pure genius. Kudos to Oskar Barnack!

All screw-mount Barnack Leicas use the same pesky bottom loading system that requires a removable take-up spool, a tapered film leader, and some degree of manual dexterity to ensure that the sprocket teeth engage the film perforations properly before you latch the back shut. The fact that bottom loading Barnack Leicas were in production for 35 years proves that the system is workable, but practically anyone who’s ever shot with one of these magnificent machines has complained about loading it. Indeed, countless Leica fans cheered when the Leica M3 arrived in 1954 with a hinged back section that made loading film and loading verification much easier. To give Barnack his due, the one advantage of the bottom-loading system is that turning the hinged back lock key on the bottom of the base plate to closed position causes an internal tab to open the “darkroom door” of an installed Leica cassette, allowing the film to move frictionlessly through the camera. With Kodak’s introduction of the felt-lipped standard 35mm cartridge in 1934, this advantage became far less important.

The Kine Exakta of 1936: A landmark camera with a (nearly) fatal flaw

The Kine Exakta of 1936 was the world’s first commercially successful 35mm SLR—the ungainly but competent Sport (a pioneering 35mm SLR made by GOMZ in the USSR) was evidently announced one year earlier in 1935, but it probably wasn’t marketed until later and then not internationally distributed. Based largely on the VP Exakta of 1933 (which provided a 4.5 x 6cm format on 127 roll film), the Kine Exakta, as its name implied, took 35mm cine film and provided a standard 24 x 36mm format. While it had the appealing look of “precision machinery” and the traditional Ihagee Exakta’s trapezoidal body shape, the Kine Exakta was beset with numerous “inconvenience features” and required a leisurely approach to picture taking. These include a 270°-stroke, left-handed, non-ratcheted film wind lever, a manual diaphragm lens that had to be stopped down to shooting aperture after focusing wide open (later modes had lenses with externally coupled semi-auto diaphragms), and a devilishly complicated system for setting slow shutter speeds using a separate manually wound gear train.

Oriiginal Exakta 1 of 1936 with round magnifier, manual in background:jpg.jpg
Oriiginal Exakta 1 of 1936 with round magnifier, manual in background. To focus more precisely you had to press the hinged magnifier down onto the viewing screen, obscuring much of the viewing image, which made focusing and composing the picture separate operations. Uncool.

500px-GOMZ_Sport.jpg
The Sport of 1935, This ungainly USSR-made 35mm SLR with a focal plane shutter, waist-level finder, and a auxiliary optical finder was announced in 1935, beating out the Kine Exakta by one year, but it sold in limited quantities and never achieved worldwide success.

But the crowning dummheit of the Kine Exakta is its waist-level viewfinder, which has the focusing magnifier hinged at the bottom of the finder hood, so you must clamp it down directly over the focusing screen! Not only does this system limit the degree of magnification, compromising its value as a focusing aid, the frame holding the magnifier also obscures a large portion of the viewing image so you can’t really view and focus simultaneously—one if the major advantages of using an SLR! When users complained, Ihagee enlarged area of the original round magnifier, which obscured around 70% of the viewing image, to a rectangular one that obscured “only” 50% or so! They didn’t really address the problem until 1949 by introducing the Exakta II, basically a Kine Exakta with the focusing magnifier hinged at the top the waist-level viewing hood where it should have been in the first place. The only ones pleased with any of these incredible lapses in camera design 101 are collectors—an original 1936 Kine Exakta with round magnifier is a rare collectible worth $600 and up; a clean Kine with rectangular magnifier fetches about $300-$500 depending on lens and condition. If you’re a shooter who wants the vintage Exakta experience without the pain, financial and otherwise, go for an Exakta II which is obtainable for around $100-$150.

The sad saga of the Kodak Ektra: When too much is not enough!

The Kodak Ektra of 1941 was Kodak’s audacious attempt to build the finest interchangeable-lens rangefinder camera the world had ever seen, and they poured an enormous amount of resources into the project. The result, designed primarily by Joseph Mihaly, was technically brilliant, spectacular, and in many ways functional, but it was also extraordinarily complex, expensive to manufacture, and it featured a left-handed shutter release, film-advance crank, and front-mounted focusing wheel! The Ektra’s amazing features include: a 4-1/8-inch-base, high magnification, full-military-spec split-image prism rangefinder, varifocal dioptric viewfinder providing auto parallax compensation with breech-lock bayonet lenses from 35mm to 153mm, interchangeable film magazines with built-in, two-stroke film-advance levers and folding rewind cranks, and a rubberized cloth focal-plane shutter with fast-and slow-speed dials providing speeds of 1-1/1000 sec plus B. Standard lens was a 50mm f/1.9 or f/3.5 Ektar, both superb.

Kodak Ektra with 50mm f:1.9 Ektar lens.jpg
Kodak Ektra with 50mm f/1.9 Ektar lens. You've gotta give Kodak credit for sheer audacity, but the Ektra was a technical and marketing flop.

Since Kodak officially sold only 2,490 Ektras to the public before it was discontinued in 1948 and each one used 667 different parts made of 88 different materials in its construction, Kodak evidently lost a pile of money on the project. Ektras are beautiful on the outside, less so on the inside, and are notoriously unreliable picture takers (the shutter was never perfected and the film backs are trouble prone) but it is a unique and magnificent collectible. Current value with 50mm f/1.9 Ektar lens: $2,500 to $3000.

The Nikon F: Indestructible--except for the prism lock.

The legendary Nikon F introduced in 1959 was the first truly professional caliber SLR, conceived as the basis for a high quality professional SLR system. The Nikon F remained in production, with relatively minor changes, for nearly 14 years, and during that time it established Nikon as the leading professional 35mm camera, a position not seriously challenged (by Canon) until the autofocus era. A handsome, rugged, and reliable camera of modular design, its removable pentaprism and external meter-coupling system allowed the Nikon F to be retrofitted with the latest advances in metering technology by upgrading the meter prism, and its F mount has endured, with some operational changes, even until the present digital era—a remarkable example of non-obsolescence. While the Nikon F is not a technological landmark, it is the camera that really marked the coming of age of the 35mm SLR. Its features include at titanium foil focal-plane shutter (early models had cloth shutters) with speeds from 1-1/1000 sec plus B and T, interchangeable finders and screens, and a removable back. An extensive range of lenses and specialized accessories are available. The Nikon F is a fine user-collectible, and these days something of a bargain—you can snag a clean working Nikon F Photomic with 50mm f/1.4 Nikkor lens for $200 to $300 or even less. Downsides: the prism locking mechanism is not as robust as the rest of the camera (it wasn’t originally designed for large heavy meter prisms) and it ispossible to knock a Photomic prism off a Nikon F if you’re a klutz (don’t ask me how I know). Also, I’ve never been a fan of the clunky external linkage for coupling the lens aperture to the meter prism. Note: Nikon responded by upgrading the prism locking system on the Nikon F2, which added robust hooks at the front of the prism to better secure it to the body.

Nikon FTN with late meter lrism and multicated 50mm f:1.4 Nikkor S.C. lens..jpg
Nikon FTN with late TTL meter prism and multicoated 50mm f/1.4 Nikkor S.C. lens. Prism lock was dodgy, and reinforced on the Nikon F2

The Leicaflex Standard: The perils of making an SLR for Leica M lovers.

The Leicaflex was the first SLR manufactured by Leitz, the result of a development program dating back to 1958. It was officially released in 1964 and discontinued in 1968, with the introduction of the Leicaflex SL, the first SLR with selective TTL metering. Over the Standard’s lifespan only about 37,500 bodies were sold, perhaps a blessing in disguise since some say the cost of productionexceeded the dealer price! The original Leicaflex Standard was a reluctant entry into the SLR arena, and a great disappointment to many diehard Leica fans that were hoping for a world class contender to go up against the Nikon F, Canonflex, Asahi Pentax and its extravagantly huge and overdesigned German predecessor, the Zeiss “Bull’s-Eye” Contarex. Mocked by some reviewers as “the shotgun marriage of a Leica M3, a Visoflex reflex housing, and a Leica MR meter” the non-TTL-metering Leicaflex Standard was functionally obsolete the day it was released. And when it finally went on sale, the Leicaflex with standard 50mm f/2Summicron-R lens sold for $585, then an astronomical price for a brand new SLR lacking features available on other cameras costing far less.

_DSC7090.JPG
Leicaflex Standard in black with matching 90mm Elmarit-R lens. Technologically behind the times and beset with an idiosyncratic "rangefinder-like" viewfinder, it was expensive and didn't sell, but it takes great pictures and is now considered a de facto classic.

The Leicaflex Standard is a very conservative camera that has a commendably bright reflex finder, but it only provides a focusing image within a central microprism circle—the entire outer area is a non-focusing aerial image—kind of like (dare we say it?) a rangefinder camera! Geometric shutter speed settings of B and 1-1/2000 sec. are clearly displayed along the bottom of the finder, with the meter needle and lollipop-shaped match-needle pointer located on the right. Neither the back nor the prism is interchangeable, precluding the possibility of adding back-mounted accessories or conveniently changing finders or focusing screens. While the single stroke wind lever has a moderately long throw of about 140° from standoff position, it’s not ratcheted so you can’t wind to the next frame in a series of shorter strokes.

thumbnail_IMG_1343.jpg
Leicaflex Standard viewfinder focused only in the central miicroprism circle. The outer area was a very bright, non-focusing aerial image.

The Leicaflex Standard was produced in 2 variants: the original Mark 1, identifiable by its fan-shaped exposure counter, and the later Mark 2, which has a round exposure counter and turns off the meter when the wind lever is pressed flush with the camera body. The Mark 1 has no meter off switch at all—you must store it in a dark place or in its case to conserve battery power—a major design oversight one would not expect from a thoughtful company like Leica.

Despite its shortcomings that were obvious even in its day, the Leicaflex Standard, in its own idiosyncratic way, is a timeless classic. It’s exquisitely made and gorgeously finished at a level that few, if any, modern cameras can match. Its highly complex and sophisticated mirror and shutter mechanisms are masterfully executed, quite reliable, and extremely durable. Its viewfinder is very bright even by current standards and the central focusing image snaps into focus with alacrity. Its original line of single-cam R-mount Leitz prime lenses (35-135mm), many designed by the legendary Dr. Walter Mandler, are mechanical masterpieces that deliver breathtaking image quality. Its shutter release and film wind action are silky smooth, and its shutter tops out at an impressive 1/2000 sec. Even its funky, low sensitivity metering system (which has an ugly shrouded CdS port and battery cover on the front of the pentaprism housing) works quite well in reasonably bright light and gives “fat spot” readings roughly equal in coverage to a 90mm lens. However, its CdS cell meter is subject to the dreaded memory effect, and you’ll have to have the meter converted to accept a current 1.5v silver oxide or alkaline cell—it was designed to take a now defunct 1.35v mercury battery. Note: while the Leicaflex Standard works fine with 1- and 2-cam R-mount lenses, 3-cam and ROM-equipped lenses can cause trouble, so beware. If you’re tempted to acquire one these idiosyncratic and underappreciated classics, bodies in clean functional condition are readily available used in the $200-$350 range and you can occasionally snag a nice one, complete with a 1-cam 50mm f/2 Summicron-R for around $500-600. If you decide to take the plunge, make sure yours comes with a no questions asked, full return guarantee if you’re not satisfied-- these cameras can be expensive to fix!

Konica IIIM with hinged selenium meter in the up (operating) position. Note mertering needle m...jpg
Konica IIIM of 1960 had a big ugly hinged selenium cell meter on top that's notoriously unreliable and (mostly) unrepairable. It's too bad, because the camera provided full and half-frame formats with parallax and field size correction and has a great 50mm f/1.8 Hexanon lens.

The Konica IIIM: A great camera destroyed by adding a horrible meter!

The beautifully made and attractive Konica IIIA of 1958 featured an unusual, vertically mounted, left-handed, rapid-wind lever, and a magnificent high magnification (1:1) range/viewfinder with true projected, parallax-compensating finder frame lines that also adjust for field frame size (the reduced angular coverage as you focus closer). Other features include: an excellent 50mm f/1.8 or f/2 Hexanon lens, Seikosha 1-1/500 sec MX shutter, rewind crank and self-timer. Despite its beautiful execution, elegant proportions, and advanced features, the Konica IIIA was a glorious technological dead end. The subsequent Konica IIIM (which added half frame capability and a coupled flip-up-selenium-cell meter) was an unreliable dud due to the fragile, unreliable meter call that also spoiled the handsome lines of the camera. About 95% of Konica IIIMs have non-functioning meters, and your chances of getting one repaired are slim to none. The solution: If you hanker for a great Konica rangefinder 35, look for a nice clean Konica IIIA; they’re readily available used in clean working condition for about $200-$250. It is said that the 50mm f/1.8 Hexanon lens performs a tad better than the 48mm f/2 but the latter is more compact and more in keeping with the camera’s elegant form factor. Either version is a fine user-collectible well worth the current price.

The Minolta CLE: Everything you want, except manual metering.

The Minolta CLE unveiled in 1980 was the first autoexposure M-mount rangefinder 35, a logical successor to the Leica CL and Leitz-Minolta CL that had debuted in 1973, and arguably the best camera to come out of the longstanding Leitz Minolta cooperation agreement. Indeed, its feature set wouldn’t be equaled by any Leica until the Leica M7 of 2002. The Minolta CLE introduced a host of new technologies to the rangefinder 35, including TTL OTF (through the lens, off the film plane) metering, aperture priority autoexposure, and an LED metering display in the viewfinder.

Minolta M-Rokkor lens.jpg
Minolta CLE of 1980 with superb 40mm f/2 Rocker-M lens. Prior to the Leica M7 of 2007 it was the most advanced M-mount rangefinder 35.

In terms of its metering electronics, the Minolta CLE is based on the Minolta XG-series SLRs, specifically the XG-7. The viewfinder has projected, parallax compensating, projected frame lines for 28 mm, 40 mm, and 90 mm focal lengths, an electronic focal plane shutter with speeds to 1/1000 sec, and a through-the-lens, 2-cell (TTL) silicon photodiode (SPD) metering system with aperture-priority automatic or manual exposure, and automated ambient and flash exposure metering that works dynamically, adjusting the shutter speed and TTL, off the film (OTF) flash metering during the exposure. Despite its advanced specs, the Minolta CLE does not provide a metered manual exposure mode like the Leica M7 or Konica Hexar RF—it only offers a choice of aperture priority AE or (non-metered) manual f/stop and shutter speed settings.

Konica Hexar RF.jpg-
Konica Hexar RF of 1999 with 35mm Hexar lens in M-compatible KM mount. It had AE and metered manual exposure but not TTL OTF flash.

Would it be possible to modify a Minolta CLE to provide a metered manual exposure mode, a working method preferred by many serious photographers? It would require major modifications to the camera’s electronic circuitry and would be very difficult to achieve without compromising the camera’s existing capabilities. Bottom line: if cost were no object, it could probably be done, but as a practical proposition, not so much. You can acquire a pristine Minolta CLE with 40mm f/2 M-Rokkor lens for about $900.00 to $1,200.00. And if you must have an M-mount rangefinder 35 with AE and metered manual exposure, check out the Hexar RF with 35mm f/2 Hexar lens (roughly $600 to $1,000, but prices vary wildly) or a Leica M7 ($3,500 to $4,500, body only)… but only the M7 has aTTL OTF flash metering that’s comparable to the CLE but using the shoe-mount SCA system.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
You mean between the two halves of it -- between the ring with the speed markings and the ring with the maximum aperture readout? And where on the ring seam (using a clock face) specifically?
 
Thanks for your thoughts. I've used bottom loading Leicas and Canons for many years and my loading screw-up rate is definitely higher than yours, and I experience more frequent loading problems with bottom loaders than I do with 35s having removable or hinged backs. The problem is inevitably solved by reloading the camera so the only thing lost is time, and maybe a little pride. I agree that the Contax I is a hot mess, though I love its looks. The Contax II also has its peccadilloes, but I think "poorly designed" is a bit harsh. I have shot with my well used example with uncoated 50mm f/1.5 Sonnar for over two decades with satisfaction. Maybe I'm just klutzier than you-:)


Having just gotten the SVOOP Leica takeup reel for my IIIf, all I can think is WHY DID I WAIT SO LONG???? This is soooo much easier to pull from the body than the stock reel. It effectively works just like an M2 takeup now. Very easy to get out and put back in.

So, way back when, Leica was already trying to correct their design mistakes ...
 
There is a parallel to be drawn between the British motorcycle industry of the '50s and Zeiss product development of the 1930s...

Might also add Citroen to the list...who else would try to produce a Wankel helicopter?!

All beautiful bits of machinery developed for a market that didn't know it needed them.
 
Fun Thread!

My Two Candidates- Both Voigtlander.

Vitessa: Plunger Wind that can jam if the lens is set to a certain distance AND method of calibrating the RF which requires removing the top to set and putting back on to check.

The Prominent. Not as bad as the Vitessa, but a real mess to adjust the RF. Double blades for the shutter, like the Polaroid 180.
 
And that's the thing about the FT Nikkormats -- the twitchy meter. Hard to find one of these cameras these days with a meter needle that doesn't jump around. I know; you don't need the meter for the camera to work, but it's really annoying, and I won't buy one if the meter is misbehaving. It's not as if these cameras are hard to find. I see two on Craigslist nearby right now.

And does anyone know how to fix the meter? I understand there's some sort of carbon track (?) that maybe can be cleaned and get the meter in working order, but how to get at it (and where it is, for that matter) I don't know.
Agree. It's the main reason why almost all XTs are shelf queens now. Many I've seen had been bought (and very little used) by amateurs, so they were As New. But that fluttering needle...

I recall a camera repair man in Melbourne many years ago who told me that when a Nikon or Nikkormat meter goes chunky, it's time to buy a new camera. The repairs were too fiddly and took up endless time, which obviously pushed up the costs. Good advice, I reckon.

The FT2s, at least the two I own, have escaped that affliction. So far. But they are nudging the half-century mark, and like humans, after all that time something in the mechanics is bound to be showing signs of breaking down.
 
I'm sure we all have examples to offer; my favorite is the Mamiya TLR system. A medium format camera for professional use, without any sort of depth-of-field scales? Perhaps wedding photographers, the folks who used these cameras the most, didn't feel that this was a major shortcoming. And to be fair, I don't really see how DOF scales could have been implemented, but then, I'm not one of the Mamiya engineers who was being paid the big bucks. Nevertheless, it's still one of my favorite camera systems to use. I just turn to other cameras when I know the DOF issue could present difficulties.

No, No! One mustn't criticize the brilliant Mamiya TLR system! :mad:

The black 105mm f/3.5 DS lens, which was marketed as a "portrait" or "wedding" lens, had a Heliar formulation, a self-timer, and in the viewing lens, a diaphragm and a DOF scale. I've never seen anything remotely comparable to this on any other TLR.

There may have also been a 105mm f/3.5 D, without the self-timer. (I have the DS.)

Granted, the 105mm was the only lens in the line with these features. If you got the base 105mm f/3.5 lens (not D or DS), it was a Tessar-type (still not a bad thing), without the self-timer and the viewing lens diaphragm and DOF scale.

- Murray
 
No, No! One mustn't criticize the brilliant Mamiya TLR system! :mad:

The black 105mm f/3.5 DS lens, which was marketed as a "portrait" or "wedding" lens, had a Heliar formulation, a self-timer, and in the viewing lens, a diaphragm and a DOF scale. I've never seen anything remotely comparable to this on any other TLR.

There may have also been a 105mm f/3.5 D, without the self-timer. (I have the DS.)

Granted, the 105mm was the only lens in the line with these features. If you got the base 105mm f/3.5 lens (not D or DS), it was a Tessar-type (still not a bad thing), without the self-timer and the viewing lens diaphragm and DOF scale.

- Murray
Brilliant, yes, but not perfect! That 105mm DS lens is a klugey "solution" that doesn't really work. As you stop it down, the ground glass image becomes so dim that judging sharpness, or its lack, quickly becomes impossible. I will admit that the Heliar formulation is yummy, and makes the DS or D a worthwhile purchase in spite of itself. Don't worry, there's plenty of love in my heart for my C22, C220, and the two C3's!
 
Brilliant, yes, but not perfect! That 105mm DS lens is a klugey "solution" that doesn't really work. As you stop it down, the ground glass image becomes so dim that judging sharpness, or its lack, quickly becomes impossible. I will admit that the Heliar formulation is yummy, and makes the DS or D a worthwhile purchase in spite of itself. Don't worry, there's plenty of love in my heart for my C22, C220, and the two C3's!

Not perfect? Bite your tongue!

I've, personally, never found stop-down diaphragms useful for assessing depth of field, but the lens in question does have a DOF scale on top of the viewing lens. One has to transfer the focusing distance to the DOF scale for it to work, but it does work. I don't see any other way to fulfill this purpose on a TLR with interchangeable lenses that all focus on the same moving lens board. TLRs that I have seen that focus by turning the lens itself (which is in turn geared directly to the viewing lens) and may potentially allow for a DOF scale (though I have never seen such) are even more klugey.

- Murray
 
The Prominent. Not as bad as the Vitessa, but a real mess to adjust the RF. Double blades for the shutter, like the Polaroid 180.
I'm probably going to meet a Prominent shooter later today, last year he showed me his pre-war Prominent, now that really is a peculiar camera!

Yet in between those freaks they came up with the pistol trigger on the first post WW2 Bessas, which is one of the nicest shutter releases I've ever used.
 
The Leica III take-up spool can still easily skedaddle off to hang out with the Contax spool.:D
The only bottom loading spool I've ever had drop out on me was on a Zorki 5; I think it's not got the original spool (a lot of stuff changed during the production of all the various Zorkis, and spools are rarely perfectly interchangeable). Leica, Canon, and Leotax spools usually sit really nice and snug.

I understand the need for- and the value of some level of security theater, but TSA does not give me the sense that they actually know what they're looking for.
Last time I flew back from Berlin, security pulled my bag aside because they thought a flash bracket looked like a gun on the X-ray. I actively burst out laughing. I don't think they were impressed.
 
The only bottom loading spool I've ever had drop out on me was on a Zorki 5; I think it's not got the original spool (a lot of stuff changed during the production of all the various Zorkis, and spools are rarely perfectly interchangeable). Leica, Canon, and Leotax spools usually sit really nice and snug.

Spools are just prone to be dropped due to the overall juggling act: camera, spool, bottom plate, film. 😀
 
Spools are just prone to be dropped due to the overall juggling act: camera, spool, bottom plate, film. 😀
I've had this one sorted for years now:

Camera: on strap
Baseplate: in mouth
Film: right hand
Spool: left hand

It only really gets a bit weird when using a Leica II or Zorki 1 so you don't have the strap lugs to rely on... I end up cradling the camera in the crook of my arm, which is far from ideal.
 
I've had this one sorted for years now:

Camera: on strap
Baseplate: in mouth
Film: right hand
Spool: left hand

It only really gets a bit weird when using a Leica II or Zorki 1 so you don't have the strap lugs to rely on... I end up cradling the camera in the crook of my arm, which is far from ideal.
I don't know what is so difficult about this. Find a corner cafe, sit down at a table, order a latte or coffee, change the film while you are waiting. Life was a lot slower when these cameras were manufactured. This is your chance to live life at that pace if only for a few moments. Don't waste it.
 
I once had the opportunity to fondle a Robot Royal 36. I can't say what it was like to shoot one of them, but the fit, finish, and aesthetics made my Leicas feel like FSU junk in comparison. There. I said it out loud!
Presumably you didn't try looking through the extremely dinky eyepiece of the dim, un-framelined range/viewfinder...
 
"...the one advantage of the bottom-loading system is that turning the hinged back lock key on the bottom of the base plate to closed position causes an internal tab to open the “darkroom door” of an installed Leica cassette, allowing the film to move frictionlessly through the camera."

As Mr. Schneider knows perfectly well, Canon deftly incorporated BOTH the advantage of a cassette-operating key AND a convenient hinged backdoor in every interchangeable-lens rangefinder model from the Model V onward... and probably would have done so before the V's 1956 introduction date, if not for the psychological obstacle of bucking not only Leica, but Contax and Nikon as well...
 
I don't know if it's already been mentioned - but the aperture actuator on the early Elmar and Hektor lenses. What were Leitz' engineers thinking?!
You basically have to tilt the camera upwards to see what you are doing at all and even then the danged thing is so tiny (and often stiff) that you will end up with an errant finger on the lens.

The solution? Just buy this hood here which loves to fall off every 200m you walk...
 
I don't know if it's already been mentioned - but the aperture actuator on the early Elmar and Hektor lenses. What were Leitz' engineers thinking?!
My guess: simple compromise of usability in favour of compactness; placing the aperture selector anywhere else increases the bulk of the camera slightly with the lens collapsed. Canon's re-imagining of the 50mm Elmar form factor puts it behind the lens's front face, for instance - stopping the lens from collapsing quite as far in the process.

I was just thinking this might be one thing where the Soviets improved on the designs they were "inspired" by - the SovietCams page on the Industar 22 shows they started with the same little tab before changing to the more common (and more useable) continuous ring. However, that ring means nothing can really grip it like Leitz' weird VOOLA accessory. Is this a trade-off worth making? Possibly.
 
Back
Top Bottom