A Vintage Soviet Medium Format Camera at an American Classic Corvettes Car Show

 

 

Prescott, Arizona, is home to one of the most popular vintage Corvette car shows. Among the reasons is the dry desert weather that preserves cars from rust and other damages. Also, many of the retired residents have enough space on their house land to build large garages often transformed into classic cars restoration. The king of these cars is the Corvette, a symbol of American muscle cars.

There is an annual Corvette car show downtown Prescott, and thousands of visitors marvel at the pristine restorations of Corvettes many more than 60 years old. For me, it is also an opportunity to take a vintage film camera for street photography.

Yesterday I decided to take one of my 1972 Soviet medium format Salyut S camera for that sortie. A few days ago I tested the camera with the 90mm Vega 12-b I had used decades ago, and while the camera worked fine, the lens was frozen. Thinking that the blades got stuck from years on inaction, I proceeded to open the lens and get the blades back into action. Unfortunately it was more complicated than that as the automatic blade control mechanism had broken.

.. In the 1990s, with the advent of digital cameras, film and mechanical cameras were sold or even given away as they were deemed relics of a glorious past. I acquired a number of classic cameras during that time period, especially focusing on getting two of the same models so I would be able to perform “organ transplant” since mechanical camera repair professionals were getting as extinguished as the users of these photographic tools were.  I have two of these Vega lenses, and I decided to rescue the ailing one:

To my surprise, when I took the rear cap off the second lens, I realised that I had already, a couple of decades ago, harvested parts of that lens! As for many vintage Soviet lenses I have, it used to be popular for whoever repaired or re-calibrated a lens to scratch the new calibration parameters on the inner metal surface of the lens, and often, with the edge of a screwdriver, carve their name. I suddenly saw that I had done the same thing when I repaired that lens decades ago!

Here are the partly dismantled optical elements of the non-functioning lens and my name carved on the inside of the “donor” lens:

So, at least for now, I will not be able to use that Vega lens for the Corvette show.

 

The next possibility was a monster lens not made for street photography, the Soviet Kaleinar 3B 150mm f2.8. It is a stereotypical Soviet lens being all glass and all steel. It weighs 1100 grams and fitted on the Salyut camera (1420 grams) one will have 5.6 pounds of weight hanging from the neck! What is more challenging though is the focusing – one has to turn the ring more than one rotation to get into focus, and even then, the weight of the outfit and the non-friendly pressure the shutter release requires make the steady holding of the camera impossible.

Here is a size comparison between the Vega and Kaleinar lenses:

 

Needless to say, the Kaleinar was not built for street photography, rather for portraiture on a steady tripod. And I have used this lens decades ago for portraiture, always handheld, and never in a sunny setting as it flares easily and loses contrast. But the portraits I took had a unique charm – a pronounced bokeh even at f5.6, and a “proletarian” feel to the captured moment, compared to what one got from Japanese lenses of the era. It was a down to earth capture that did fit the character of most people I captured on 60 or 100 ASA film.

Ok, I tested the lens, it was working fine and out to the Corvette show we went.

The photo at the outset of this page is the first one I took at the lens’s minimum focusing distance of 1.8 meter, the diaphragm closed to f16 and the speed set to 1/125^th seconds. The desert sun was at its zenith and there were reflections on the glass and metal surfaces of the 1956 corvette’s cabin. I did not expect much from this shot, but surprisingly, there was little flare and sharpness and contrast were acceptable.

My second test was at f8 and shutter set at 1/250^th seconds. I wanted to capture the spirit of folks admiring the corvettes and the head of an alien the owner of this car placed in the cabin allowed to experiment with lens sharpness and out of focus frame areas. I find this photo quite delightful.

It was time to test the bokeh of the lens taking into account the light transition between the foreground and the background. As I had seen before the Kaleinar exhibits significant, albeit less than smooth bokeh even at f5.6 which was the set aperture for this photo:

Another test of test was at f11 and shutter speed of 1/125^th seconds focusing on an artwork across the street, about 25 meters away. It was the life size sculpture of the most common predator we have in Arizona – the coyote. We almost see them daily around our houses making walking a dog a challenge.

The sculpture was made of scrap metal, nuts and bolts allowing me to test the sharpness of the lens and the contrast it displays:

Finally, an example why quick framing and focusing, hence street photography, is not really possible with the Kaleinar. People were walking near a corvette and I wanted to capture both the walkers and the car. Unfortunately by the time I focused (or tried to) and clicked, the car was mostly covered by and the frame was badly focused:

 

So, the performance of the lens and camera were still very acceptable, and I may use the setup for portraiture again. Most importantly, I was pleased to have a vintage camera at a vintage car show. In some way, both the owners of those cars and I have one thing in common – owning, maintaining and using a tool or machine from a past era makes us partners in the process, rather than passive users of technology that is programmed to be predictably functional but often override our desires of the moment.

.. Talking of functional, I have to decide if I want to spend hours taking the broken Vega lens apart, just for the challenge of it...

PS/ as always, I was probably the only one, among the thousands of people, who went to a classic muscle-car show and did not take photos of the cars.

 

September 29, 2024

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024

Upper Antelope Canyon on Navajo Land in Arizona – a Symphony of Light and Shape on B&W Film

 

 

A recent trip to Page, Arizona included the tour of one of six canyons where light, shape and colour provide dramatic optical delights.

The Navajo Upper Antelope Canyon is called Tsé bighánílíní in Navajo language meaning “the place where water runs through the rocks.” Rainwater during the monsoon season (heavy rains for a month or so) created flash flooding and eroded Navajo Sandstone and created passageways and corridors while polishing and smoothing rough edges in the sandstone. This resulted in shapes that flow like the water passage, and openings atop the walls of the canyon. The light that filters through such open passages creates delightful, somehow psychedelic colours and shapes.

The canyons are the main attraction of the Lake Powell Navajo Tribal Park and access to these canyons are only possible through guided tours by Navajo.

Needless to say, I was intrigued by the photo opportunities such a tour can provide. However, since I do not own or use digital cameras, the challenge of using a vintage film camera, without flash, and slow 100 ASA B&W film provided the challenge I always desire. However, just in case I wanted memories of the promised colours, I opted to rely on the “camera” of my phone…

The evening before the tour I saw a huge square frame in a field as if to frame the background scene. As I was trying to solve the mystery, a young boy appeared out of nowhere and sat in the frame. The street photographer in me immediately pointed the camera and clicked. The boy got up a few seconds later and walked toward the house on the left.

Here is that photo

 

And a cropped section showing the moment

 

What a delightful moment that was when the frame, the field, the boy and the evening sky came together in harmony!

The next morning on the way to the Navajo Tribal Park, I drove by a number of Navajo jewelry stands by the highway. Most were simple open structures where silver and turquoise handmade jewelry are sold by tribal artists. But then there was the one shown atop of the page! I just could not resist pulling over and taking a few photos using my 1981 Minolta X700 camera sporting a 1972 Soligor 20mm f2.8 lens. The banner featuring a Navajo grandma, her grandson, the jewelry stand, the mountain and the white truck described the environment perfectly

That photo is atop this entry.

… Once on the guided tour of the Upper Antelope Canyon, I realised why it is a very attractive place to visit. The light from the openings of the canyon walls filtered gracefully to create form and colour in the most abstract way. As such, the observers were provided to interpret what they saw. The ultimate set-up for guided pareidolia!

So, I opened the lens to its fullest (f2.8) and set the shutter speed to 1/15^th of a second and finished a roll of film hoping that some will be “artistic” enough given the camera shake and the unpredictable sources of light. In a few settings, when my own pareidolia let me to “see” shapes, I took photos with both the real camera and with my phone to see how colour tells a different story from B&W.

Here are a couple of examples:

The angle of view in this photo reminded me of an avian head. The digital version of that view was as follows:

When I printed the B&W film version in my darkroom, I discovered TWO birds!

 

Regarding this second photo, I just liked the multitude of shapes that in my mind could swirl in a monochromatic version.And here is what came out in the developing pan, under my darkroom’s red light:  :

 

Now I saw a small shark (bottom left) trying to grab an enormous seahorse (top half in the middle)!

However, if the canyon was naturally in the shades of gray, it would not be as spectacular. People from around the world would not come to Navajo land to experience the changing colours and shapes with the changing of daily light filtering through the openings of the canyon walls. And for capturing that feeling, colour photography is essential.

Here is one moment I caught when light coming through the tunnel passage and and a small hole in the ceiling of the canyon gave us a spectacular display:

What my eyes saw

 And what it would be if the world was monochrome...

… A visit to a canyon, formed by the sedimentation of sandstone sand washed from higher mountain basins to carved passages through the Navajo Sandstone was a photography experience I had not attempted before.  My goal was not to take photos of the canyon -- for that I would have used medium format cameras (probably my 1948 Rolleiflex TLR), a tripod, and flash light. Instead, I wanted to capture a story behind what light and shape can "write" on cellulose, stories that the eye may not see when being "distracted" by colour.

Yet, on that trip, I found a couple of moments to be what I have been for more than half a century – a street photographer!

 

PS/ I shared the canyon photos (in colour and B&W) with a friend who had toured the canyon. Her interpretation of the “avian photo” was:

“ .. looks like an ostrich turning his head and squawking at the person who just plucked his feather.”

The joys of interpreting abstract art…

 

September 17, 2024

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024

Expired Film, Expired Developer Solution and the Revenge of Unappreciated Photos

 

 

A couple of weeks ago, I wanted to test if a film roll, expired 6 years ago, will still have enough sensitivity to capture moments from a very dimly lit theater where a local band was performing. Adding to the challenge, I loaded the film in my 1954 Leica IIIF Red Dial and put a 1948 Canon Serenar collapsible lens that was very fast for the period at f1.9. Here is the combination and a close up of the lens:

 

The lens is a collectible, but a poor performer in sunny situations. I have rarely used the f1.9 setting, as f8 seemed to be the most acceptable setting for street photography. As for the Leica, I have owned and used it for decades without maintenance. The speeds slower than 1/25^th seconds are now erratic, but 1/100^th seconds and faster are still perfectly acceptable. I knew I would need to test the 1/25^th seconds speed along with the “freshness” of the ASA 100 film.

But in the theater I encountered two new challenges – the stage had spot lights on the musicians but the rest of the space was lit with red lights! So, it was very difficult to even see the musicians through my ancient viewfinder – I had to resort to zone focusing, hoping that someone on that stage will be in focus!

When I developed the film, I was delighted that all frames were well exposed. The film seemed still in fine shape even though I had not kept it in the freezer like many rolls I have.  And under the loupe, I could tell that the zone focusing had worked with smooth tonal transitions and decent focusing. Here is the frame I developed (no chemical contamination on the pellicule!) and a section of the developed film strip showing perfect development:

When I prepared the chemicals for printing a few frames, I realised that the film developer solution was older than I like. But, eager to see how the prints would come out, I was delighted to think that it is only appropriate to have an “expired” developer solution while using an expired film!

So, I chose a frame, exposed the photographic paper for 45 seconds under my enlarger and let the white sheet into the developer solution expecting that magic of a photo forming in a few seconds. When I took the paper out of the solution pan, I realised that the developer solution was too old as it was a bit syrupy over the paper.

So, I tossed the exposed paper in the trash bin without going to the next two steps of dipping it in the “Stop Bath” pan, and then into the “Fixer” pan. Since the negative was excellent, I decided to try again when I mix a fresh Developer Solution.

And I forgot about it all.

Yesterday, as I was emptying my trash bin, I saw that printed photo. Over more than 10 days, the chemicals in the expired developer solution had run chaotically over that paper and crystallised in the most delightful way!  So, I took the unexpectedly “artistic” photo to the sink, washed the crystals and hung it to dry.

Too be honest, the photos I took were just to test the equipment – pure curiosity by someone who always tries to get the most from old tools, enjoys old methods of using the tools, and celebrates all surprises. In this case, the unexpected touch of the developer solution’s chemicals made the photo one I will remember.

And, to realise that really, I had no participation in the process. All I had done was to throw the “half-baked” printed paper in the trash bin. Now I learned a wonderful lesson – never disregard the ability of the ordinary to, somehow, become extraordinary!

Maybe I will use this photo as one would use the Rorschach inkblot test – see what people will see depending on who they were and what they have become. I sure have my own interpretation about this band playing in an underwater cave surrounded by aquatic sponges gently swinging to the New Orleans jazz rhythm and flow...

 

September 3, 2024

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024