Background
to the story
A neighbor sent me a note that he had old cameras
and wanted to see if I would be interested to add to my collection. So, I
dropped by to check.
There were a couple of 1940’s Kodak cameras his
parents owned and a 1960s Zeiss Ikon Contaflex. The Kodak would be a good
addition to the collection, I thought, but the Contaflex may be usable,
although the lens was almost obscured by decades old fungus infestation. So, I gave these cameras a new home.
I have two Zeiss Ikon cameras, all given to me by
folks who did not want to keep them. Interestingly, I was able to get them work
again, but they are too cumbersome to use, as vintage German cameras were over-engineered
for the basic functions they carry out. When they brake, no one would touch
them to repair. Yet, when they work, only those who enjoy the sound of dozens
of springs working in harmony to trigger a shutter will still use these vintage
cameras.
I am one of the latter. I do enjoy learning about
historic developments in camera design, and I never minded spending hours
figuring out how to replace a rusted or broken spring. However, I had never
cleaned massive fungal infestation in a lens!
So, it was a new experience, and I decided to take
upon the task of figuring out how to open the Tessar lens and clean the fungus.
With guidance from other people’s experience (which
mostly was “do not try it!”) I found
where the cement had eroded and fungal spores had probably gotten in, when the
camera was stored in a humid environment.
I cleaned it diligently, and put it back together
using epoxy instead of the historic Canada Balsam that Zeiss had used in the 1950s
and 1960s. Here are the before and after pictures of the lens:
The previously gifted Zeiss cameras I have represent
different decades of German engineering during the golden years of photography:
And the restored 1960’s Contaflex I recently
received from my neighbor:
Using
the Contaflex for street photography on Memorial Day in Prescott, AZ
As on every Memorial Day weekend, there is an art
show on the city square providing opportunity to both discover new artists and,
for a street photographer, to look for a few moments and capture them on film.
This year was special for me since I had no idea if the Contaflex was working
correctly, or if my first attempt to clean the fungal growth from its lens was
successful.
So I tried various light-environments to see if the coupled selenium meter was reliable enough to allow the automatic shutter priority system to choose the right f-stop.
A. Photos taken in semi-shade with 1/30 or 1/60 second shutter speed
The photo atop this page shows why in the 1940s the
Tessar lens was called “adler auge” or “eagle –eye”. It had the simple
construct of 4 elements in 3 groups, but was among the sharpest lenses of the
time. Today, it is the “character” of the lens photographers would speak about,
not its sharpness. And I chose the photo of a photography kiosk to capture that
character. I took the shot from less than 5 meter distance, so the sharpness is
quite noticeable in the center of the frame. But it is the “bleeding of the
shadows” and the smooth transition from light to darker shades that makes this
shot a good representative of what the lens can still do based on its simple
design from the 1930!
While the wave of visitors was in constant flux around the kiosk, I noticed a man taking a nap in the shade of a tall tree. The white cowboy hat was a natural contrast for all the shades of gray in the composition. In the printed photo, the tonal transition is smooth and the camera focus seems to be working quite accurately.
This photo of a kiosk displaying Native American artwork
was taken at a shutter speed of 1/60 second. I focused on the two-headed
pottery and the two people were just a couple feet behind that artwork. The
depth of field is very shallow and the window in the viewfinder indicated that
the camera chose f5.6 for the aperture. I would have chosen f4, but that is
very satisfactory from a 64 year old camera…
This shot, also taken at f5.6 and 1/60 second
shutter speed perhaps best demonstrates what a simple lens design first
introduced in the 1930s can still deliver that dreamy feeling when light and
shade co-exist. Indeed, modern lenses, although amazingly sharp, may sometimes be
“fooled” by the quick changes of light, even when today’s advanced meters (or
sensors) are used. The woman was throwing a baseball to the kid and the sun was
intermittently covered by tree branches due to the high wind.
Still, one can see the ball reaching the boy, and
the tonal transition is delightful.
B.
Photos
taken in strong light with the speed shutter set at 1/125 second
This is where the fun started! The next photo was a perfect natural set up
moment where a man wearing a kilt was next to the statue of a famous local law
officer from the territorial days of Arizona. A contrast in cultures, attires
and posture. I had a split of a moment for the shot and I forgot to change the
shutter speed from 1/60 seconds to 1/125. So, the statue is dark, the man in
kilt is ok, but the Court building is washed out.
What is more interesting is that there should have
been enough direct light hitting the selenium meter’s panel that one can see a large section of the
building covered in bright circles. Here is a cropped section showing those
circles:
These are either remnants of the fungus that I did
not see when I checked the “cleaned” lens, or is microscopic damage the fungal
infestation did to the glass over decades. And both issues would affect the
photo only when bright light fall upon the lens at a certain angle. Often a
lens shade (which I used) can minimise the effect, but it did not in this case.
So, the fungus issue is not fully resolved…
Finally, here is a photo where objects are in bright
light that did not show the fungus effect because I was in the shade of the
trees and no sun fell upon the lens. However, the camera’s automatic aperture
mode did not work well. I would guess that it got set to f8 when it should have
been f16.
Concluding
thoughts
The 1960s Zeiss Ikon Contaflex is a watch making
engineering delight. The ergonomics of preview Contaflex cameras are perfected
and the all steel and leather machine still works after sitting idle for more
than half a century on a shelf. Even the selenium meter works, although it is
off by a stop or so.
But, it is an over-engineered and complex camera. I
do not think anyone is out there who would even attempt to fix anything that
goes wrong mechanically.
Yet, it is a camera from the golden years of B&W
photography, hence it remains cherished by those, like me, who believe that
photography is about telling a story not bragging about how much detail a lens
can capture and display. It is about the pleasure of hearing that mechanical
shutter when tripped, knowing that there are hundreds of levers, screws,
springs and moving parts that have to be synchronized at 1/500th of
a second to match that speed with the opening and closing of thin steel
diaphragm leafs.
Eventually, it is about the becoming of one between
the photographer and the camera. Not the impersonal relationship with batteries,
micro chips or a mirrorless “camera obscura.” In a perhaps strange way, in addition
to the engineering quirks, sometimes it is the “scent” of a vintage camera’s
leather case takes the photographer into a time travel to the 1930s or 1940s.
That is the scent of Soviet cameras many of which have leather cases that have
kept that unique scent after almost a century. What kind of tanning did they
do?
… And if the negatives come out dark or
underexposed, well, so be it! There is always a 1960s Hansa Pro enlarger fitted
with a Soviet rangefinder camera lens that will allow darkroom work to
compensate for a lazy diaphragm closure or “tired” selenium light meter.
May 30, 2024
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024