With the advent of digital "cameras", the major film manufacturers got out of the business of producing film. That made film cameras obsolete.
Over the years I have collected all the classic film cameras in 35mm, 120mm and large format. Without much emphasis on their appearance, I have collected two types of cameras -- those that work and those that do not work! The reason is simple -- I can repair most mechanical cameras since in the past 50 years I have disassembled hundreds of them. So, I do what a medical student first does -- I learn about the anatomy and physiology of a camera learning from a broken camera.
Then, like a surgeon now with knowledge, I repair working cameras that have stopped working. And, often, I do organ transplants... a spring, a lever, a screen, a prism or a curtain are taken from the non-working cameras to give the working ones a second chance.
That is why photography for me is not only taking photos. Rather it is that relationship with the tool that I have cared for, that I know the limits because I had been in the entrails of its mechanics. And when a photo comes out as I had planned, it is both the joy of capturing the moment and the secret pride in having been part of the new life of an old camera.
I have more than 50 working cameras from 1938 to the 1960s. Depending on the topics of have in mind and the environment, I always go out with two cameras, in case one decides to call in sick in the middle of the project. And since I use film, the two cameras are often of the same format (35mm, 120mm or large) so I do not have to carry two types of film.
I have a penchant for Twin Lens Reflex (TLR) cameras when I am shooting 120mm film. Here are a few of my workhorse cameras. The first one on the left is a 1948 Rolleiflex, with much history in photography. I still meet people (in their 70s) who stop me to say "wow, I used one of these in the 1950s!"
While TLR do not have a folding (hence slapping) mirror, Single Lens Reflex (SLR) cameras have. Here are a few of my SLR 120mm medium format cameras. The second one from the left is a Soviet Salyut and my favorite. It weighs about 2.5 kg and can be used for shot put practice one day. But over the years I have replaced practically every piece of that camera and I love the way it winds, rewinds, slaps its mirror and gets my biceps active. Once I used that camera on a photo Safari in South Africa, and after I took one photo the guide told me to stop using it fearing that the lions surrounding our open space Jeep would be scared and engage in violent action. "Why not use a digital camera like everyone else?" he lamented.
Well, because....
So, I took the Minolta Autocord (the third TLR camera from the left) to a Pow Wow. I wanted to see how much detail I could capture of moving subjects dancing on the field about 40 meters away. The photo at the top of this page is all movement. The Dream Dancer woman had a lovely white dyed deer skin cape with fringes and beads so it would just fly and undulate as she moved. The man on her left had the elaborate feather and deer skin attire, and when they danced together she moved slower and perhaps more gracefully.
I wanted to capture the two-speed movement with a 1960's TLR, 100 ISO Ilford film from 40 meters away. The speed was set to 1/125th second and the aperture at f11.
Of course I cropped the negative to isolate the two dancers. It is still remarkable that after cropping the 6x6 cm negative by 75%, the used 25% on a 8x10 photographic paper shows so much detail. But I think that it is the movement that makes this shot.
I also took a couple of photos of still subjects, at the same distance and camera settings. Here is one I like given the foreground blur but quite the focus on one dancer's face.
May 21, 2019
©Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2019
