The 2025 Annual 4th of July Parade Through the Viewfinder of a 1968 Nikon F and the Eyes of Two Vintage Nikkor Lenses

 

Past Saturday was the annual 4^th of July parade in Prescott, when thousands of residents crowded a few blocks of the historic downtown under the warm and sunny high desert sky. I like being there to capture a few frames of the moment, and often use a vintage camera that has been sitting in await on my shelve.

This time, it was the turn of a 1968 Nikon F with its original Nikkor-H Auto f2 50mm lens.

This Nikon has a history. I bought it decades ago in Maryland from a war photographer who was selling some of his gear. At first look, it was just an early model with an inoperable meter. However, the seller told me that it was his back up camera and that the other Nikon F he had, a 1969 model, had never failed him on assignment.

And to make the point, he also gave me a film canister holder that made it impossible for me to not want the camera.

Here is the camera, its original lens, and the film canister (an aluminum one with a twist cap). The disintegrating leather holder reads “Vietnam – Saigon”!

 

 

I bought the camera for its history and used it once using my Nikkor-S Auto f1.4 which is a better lens than the older Nikkor-H it which came with the camera. After all, the “H” configuration was designed in 1935 for the Canon Hansa rangefinder camera. The design, 6 elements in 4 groups Gauss, remained unchanged when Nikon introduced it as Nikkor-H Auto in 1964 as the first 50mm lens for Nikon F. Thus, this almost century old lens is not regarded as a true competitor to the Nikkor-S f1.4 or any Nikon 50mm lens built after 1970.

And I thought it was time for me to test the lens after decades of using the Nikkor-S around the world.

To make the experience more tempting, I took with me an old Nikkor 105mm, f2.5 Non-AI that had been later AI-d upgraded. This lens also has its own “war story” as someone had dropped it and seriously bent the lip, making it impossible to use a filter or a shade. Here is the lens:

 

A.    Photos with the 50mm Nikkor-H Auto f2

The photo atop the page is both about the parade and a typical street photography of people. I do love the rendition of this old lens – compared to later Nikkor lenses, it does indeed have that vintage charm, as well as the sharpness to enhance details that make or break some photos.

Who was this young lady? Or, does it really matter when she stands out in her posture and head crown from the brouhaha of the people around her?

 

Ok, I know, I have to show at least one photo from the parade. So, here are the majestic Budweiser Clydesdales.

 

This was a natural set up for a test. There were three horses on two different focal distances, the sun was unevenly shining on each of the horses, I did not have a working light meter so I used the Sunny 16 heuristic guess rule (f11 and 1/250^th second speed), and I was not using a lens shade. It was time to see how a 1930s Gauss design lens would perform at the center of the frame and in the corners.

 The test was successful – there is light fall out at the corners, the center is sharp, and the uncoated lens without a shade did not do well with the desert sun at its zenith. But, the lens seems to take us back in time, and the corner fall out can be used for creative photos, like the one atop this essay.

 

This third photo shows a synthesis of the previous two shots. The sun was straight on the face of the rider on the left, while the second rider had her cowgirl hat shading her face. The lens is both sharp and dreamy. I do like the feel of this shot.

 

 

B.     Photos with the Nikkor 105mm f2.5

My 1960s lens is well respected for dreamy portraiture shots, but I wanted to see how it would do as a short telephoto. I do have another 105mm Nikkor made in 1971 and equipped with a retractable shade that was the first modification of this lens from Gauss to Sonnar design. It is much sharper and brighter, but sometimes not as dreamy as the old one made for the Nikon F.

This photo was printed using an old darkroom technique I learned from a photographer in Central Europe. He used to move his hands under the enlarger light while printing, producing the blurry wind movement in parts of the print he wanted to minimize in prominence. Pure and lost art! And, sometimes he used to light up a rolled cigarette and blow the smoke under the light… It made staying in the darkroom with him quite a health challenge, although some of his photos taken with a Ukrainian medium format Kiev camera were more creative (and each unique!) than any digitally manipulated prints I have seem.

So, I saw a woman cross the street in a hurry as the farm machines were in the parade. I did not have much time to focus but the old darkroom technique came in handy to selectively blur and add movement to the ill-focused shot.

 

 

The next photo shows that the 105mm Nikkor is better for portraiture than it is as a short telephoto. I shot this one at f16 and 1/125^th second speed, but the tonal range is not pleasant. Still, it is a good moment of Arizona’s frontier days’ reenactment. 

 

This final photo is a testimony for how a portraiture lens can perform fully open at f2.5. It is a crowded frame but I wanted to isolate brightness of the boots while dodging the print to respect the privacy of those in the shot.

 

Final thoughts

As in many of my street photography outings, I enjoyed “playing” with a vintage camera and lenses. After decades of pursuing my passion of the challenges vintage instruments present at every turn, I do admit that the photos remain secondary to the joy of using old photographic instruments. Perhaps it is the oneness and partnership required from the photographer to use these instruments, repair them when they broke down, and use them again. Or perhaps, it is the feeling of being in a time capsule, looking at the present world through an optic of wander, wonder and nostalgia.

No matter what it is, it sure is different from using tools where AI, hiding in a plastic housing and staying alive through the feed from a wonder battery’s electric flow, is more than an equal partner.

 

July 7, 2025

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2025

A 1959 Soviet Jupiter-11 135mm Lens on a 1954 Canon L3 – the Joy of Experimenting With the 1929 Zeiss Contax Sonnar Lens Design

 

 

 

This weekend, following the Memorial Day celebrations, downtown Prescott had an arts show and reenactment of Arizona’s territorial period (1863-1912) ending with Arizona being formally established as a Territory. Prior to 1863 it was part of Spanish and Mexican territories, and became part of the United States in 1912 after the Mexican-American War.

Such events are attractive to photographers like me who use vintage cameras, lenses and film. If captured well, the photos have the feel of the past days.

I wanted to use my 1950s Canon rangefinder, but needed a longer lens than the standard 50mm to capture the actors from about 30 meters away. I had three choices regarding lenses:

a)      A 1951 Canon Serenar 85mm f1.9 lens that weighs 640 or so grams and has a long throw of the focusing ring;

b)      A late 1955 Canon 135 f4 lens that is even heavier; or

c)      A 1959 Soviet Jupiter-11 f4 weighing 260 grams.

Hmm, while the Canon lenses are beautiful, the aperture rings have clicks, and I have used both before (hence know what to expect), carrying a lens that weighs more than the Canon L3 camera is not a pleasant experience.

So, it was time to test the Soviet lens on a Japanese camera.

First, a few words about the lenses.

Canon was a leader in rangefinder camera lens designs in the 1950s. Many of them were very fast for the period such as the 85mm f1.5 which was more expensive than a VW Beetle!  However, the lenses being all steel, chrome and glass were not practical for street photography /photojournalism, and ended up being specialty lenses.

I love my Serenar for portraiture, but given how much time it takes to focus and use the auxiliary viewfinder to frame each shot, I have used it only for posed portraiture. It renders delightfully soft shot at f1.9 which make portraits flattery, and the 20 leaf aperture changes all backgrounds into a dreamy moment.

The Canon 135mm is nothing special as a performer but it has a historical (for collectors) value: a diamond etched onto the steel s has the letters “E.P”  or “Exempt Purchase” denoting that the lens was purchased on an American military base in Japan. So, my lens is not only historic being the first Canon 135mm of the 1950s but also that it was bought on a military exchange center in post WWII Japan.

Here are the lenses, both historically appreciated and still performing with great character:

 

The Jupiter-11 is a copy of the Zeiss Sonnar design.  Specifically the Jupiter-11 135mm f/4 lens is a copy of the Carl Zeiss Sonnar 135mm f/4. It was designed by the Soviet KOMZ (Kazan Optical Mechanical Factory) in the early 1950s when the Soviet Union acquired the Contax factory in Dresden at the end of WWII. It is said that the Jupiter-11 (and other Soviet lenses) made in the 1950s used material, especially glass, from the Zeiss Contax factory. It was in 1961 that the materials were exhausted and all cameras and lenses were produced via Soviet engineering.

The historical importance of the Sonnar is that Zeiss patented a 50mm f2 lens in 1929 and built the first Sonnar design lens (six elements in 3 groups) in 1932 for the Zeiss Contax rangefinder camera. It was a 50mm f2 lens that started a myth among photographers as they produced photos with had exceptional contrast and a “glowy” at wide apertures. Even today, these vintage lenses are used by professional photographers (on digital cameras) to produce that “Sonnar swirl” of out-of-focus areas, especially as background for portraiture.

Here is my 1959 Jupiter-11:

Interestingly, this lens was made for the Zorkii cameras (a copy of Leica rangefinder) and I do have the 1954 Zorkii camera that it came with – both camera and lens still work fine together! Note the home-made yellow glass contrast enhancer I designed using glass from a yellow filter and the chrome tube from an ink pen….

Finally, regarding the Canon camera it can be seen from the photo above that Canon had innovated an easy adjustment to the viewfinder by having a quick change method between 50mm and 35mm lenses. No more the need for auxiliary viewfinders! And for critical focusing, there is a third option called “RF” (rangefinder) which is close to a 135mm lens frame. So I used that approximate and heuristic option to use the Jupiter-11 without the hassle (and slowness) of an auxiliary viewfinder. I do have a vintage Canon auxiliary viewfinder for the 85mm Serenar but it was too imprecise for framing shots using a 135mm tele.

Ok, I rolled about 10 frames of ASA 100 film on a cassette to test how the Jupiter-11 would perform on a Canon rangefinder.

 

The photo at the outset of the posting is of the enactors taken at 30 meters distance shutter set at 1/125^th second and aperture at f11. My goal was to see the tonal range of the lens going from sunny to shady in the same frame.

I have to say that although focusing a lens longer than 85mm is not easy on a rangefinder camera, the sharpness and especially the smooth tonal range is delightful on a 70 year old lens build using a 100 year old design!

The second photo is a testimony to using a lens with no click stops on the aperture ring. I wanted to frame the shot to include the Harley Davidson motorcycles shop in the background with a biker wearing the T-shirt showing the same name, sitting next to two bikes. He was in the shade of the tree but the sun was at its noon zenith on the background. I set the speed to 1/160^th second and the aperture to f5.6. But it seems that my finger touched the loose aperture ring and I took the shot at a larger aperture.

However, there is something dreamy about this photo. The only thing that would have been better is more blurring of the background. Yet, it does have that glowy feel of a Sonnar.

Finally, an example of how difficult it can be to correctly focus and frame a rangefinder camera with a long lens. I wanted to test the Jupitar-11 almost wide open in full sunlight. So the shutter was set at 1/500^th second (the fastest speed the camera has) and the aperture at f5.6. However I missed the focus by a hair and the composition is totally blurred. But perhaps it does have an unintended artistic flair…

 

I have experimented with cross-manufacturer fittings of lenses on cameras they were not designed for, either because of the focusing specifications or the size of the lens. Often even if a lens fits the old 39mm LTM or the 42mm SLR mounts, the focusing in inaccurate or the back of the lens hits the folding mirror and damages the camera.

The Soviet Jupiter-11 fit perfectly on the Canon L3 and the accuracy of the focusing was more than acceptable; although the all aluminum Soviet lens is not even close in construction (and use) to its Canon counterparts of the 1950s era.

Still, the joy of seeing the Sonnar design lens results were worth the experiment.

 

June 10, 2025

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2025

Old Photos About Newer Times – Using a 1951 Canon Serenar 35mm Lens at the 2025 Memorial Day Arts Show in Prescott, Arizona

 

 

I am not a fan of 35mm lenses, as they do not capture what my eye sees, like the 50mm lenses do. However, there are moments in street photography when I walk among hundreds of people and all shots are taken within 15 meters. Street fairs and concerts offer such an environment and I have sometimes taken a 35 mm lens with me.

The other reason I am uncomfortable with what the 35mm captures on a frame is the amount of “noise” that distracts me from focusing on the story I want to witness and tell. I always end up cropping the photos under the enlarger. However, there are shots I would like to take, within 10 meters or so, that require a wider lens than the standard 50mm.

So, I opted to take my 1954 Canon rangefinder L3 camera with me to the downtown arts show equipped with a 1951 Canon serener 35mm f2.8.

I have used the camera around the globe with absolutely no mechanical issues. I like its simplicity and it fits nicely in my hands. It also has an adjustable viewfinder for 50mm, 35mm and about 100mm lenses, avoiding the use of an external viewfinder for each lens. That feature gave Canon rangefinder cameras a competive edge in the 1940s and 1950s.

As for the Serenar, it is a tiny, very well constructed and very smooth focusing Tessar formula 4 groups and 6 elements lens. It is known to flare easily in direct light and loses contrast, primarily because it is a not coated lens. So a shade is a must.

Here is the camera with the shade I adapted to it

 

And the lens naked of any shade

 

My goal on this trip was to capture displayed art works along with the artists when possible (with my bias for photographers and painters.) I wanted to use the view I could get with a 35mm lens.

 

The photo at the top of this page shows what the lens is capable at f8, and the flare it can capture when the sunlight hits the front glass directly. The artist and his work – with an almost mystical moment of a ray shining upon the artist from the firmament!

 

The next photo was a test of how the lens would render the grades of shape and their transition. There were two women in the photograph’s kiosk and the sun was bright outside. The first print I did was lower in contrast, as the lens is known to produce. So, I did some burning and dodging under the enlarger – 4 seconds of dodging for the hung photos and 5 second of burning regarding the women. I like the nostalgic B&W photo that resulted – the sharpness of the lens is also delightful.

Finally, a calm moment and a great photo by another photographer. I was about 25 meters away, so I did crop some of the people walking around the scene. To enhance the photo of the man and the horse, I dodged the hanging artwork for 3 seconds. Still, the sharpness of the lens captured the eye of the horse and that of the man beautifully.

 

I am pleased with the lens especially since the traditional darkroom work under an enlarger can remedy to the lack of contrast most users complain about.

For me it was just the appropriate old technique to be used to produce photos that look they were taken 75 years ago.

 

May 26, 2025

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2025

PS/ After I posted this entry yesterday, I got a few emails from readers. One of them said that he had used this lens, with an adapter, on his digital camera hoping that he would get that vintage photo feeling, but that it has not worked well. And he asked if I had a photo that I had not worked on it in the darkroom, that would show how the lack of contrast looks on when it is just printed as it is on the negative.

Ok, I did print a few photos other than the ones I posted yesterday. I chose to work on the above 3 because they had a story, and because dodging and burning did enhance that story. A few others went to the reject box because they lacked either the story or the composition was unexciting.

So, here is one of the rejects that shows bad composition but also some of this lens' weaknesses.

I wanted to get the artist with her works as she was behind the kiosk. But the mix of shade from the tall trees and the sun did not help the lighting of her works, and, she was moving too fast looking for something behind the stepladder. 

But the flare is there on the left side of the photo, and the contrast is quite minimal.

Hope this helps!

Mothers’ Day in Prescott, Arizona Through the Zeiss Lens of the 1954 Rolleiflex Automat TLR

 

 

Like the  many photographers who still use vintage film cameras, I do get moments when the urge to bring one sitting on the shelf back to action takes over the expected effort it will take to address the issues of long inaction time. But the desire to use an old favorite always wins.

So, as Mothers’ Day was approaching, I recalled when a couple of decades I took my 1954 Rolleiflex Automat with me to Paris to celebrate my mother’s day and take a few photos. Alas, those were the last photos I took of her.

With memories affecting the moment, I flipped the cover and looked through the waist finder glass. I was not sure if it was the dampness of my eyes or indeed, the view was significantly dimmer than I remember. After a few minutes, I realized that taking photos with such a dim view finder had become harder on my eyes…

So I looked through my camera parts box, there were the focusing and magnifying glasses of an old Yashica 124 that I had kept. Perfect, now I could ready the Rolleiflex for action.

It took a bit of doing, though, as replacing the single glass of the old German camera with the Japanese double glass affected the firmness of the internal clips that hold the viewing glass together. That in turn affected the fine tuning of the focusing and required some shaving of the glass and shimming the fit.

After checking that the shutter speeds were still in working condition on this 70 years old camera, I took it to the arts show downtown Prescott on Mother’s Day and went through a roll of Fomapan 100 ASA B&W film.

But first, here is how the “upgraded” Rolleiflex viewing glass compared to my 1961 Minolta Autocord’s.

 

Even in full desert sunshine, the Rolleiflex (on the left) is dimmer than the Autocord, a TLR camera that traveled around the globe with me for decades with absolutely no issues and great results.

 

And here is a “portrait” shot of the two cameras. The Minolta is smaller and lighter, but its shutter is louder than and not as smooth as the older Rolleiflex during film advancing. But the brighter view glass and the focusing of the Minolta fit me better during street photography when a split second makes a difference in focusing and clicking.

 

So, on this Mothers’ Day, I tested the Rolleiflex using three criteria: (1) is it now easier to focus in both well lit and dimmer street moment; (2) if a second shot is immediately needed, is the winding smooth and fast; and, if the Zeiss Opton lens’s iconic Tessar feel is still as charming today as it was 70 years ago.

(I realise that the third criterion makes more sense to a seasoned photographer than anyone else. But it is part of the reasons folks like me still use vintage cameras …)

Based on those criteria, here are three photos I chose:

A)     Well lit moment with time for me to adjust the focus. That is the photo atop the page. I saw a sunglass and jewelry vendor behind the mannequins and I wanted to get then all together in my frame. As I was ready to release the shutter, a woman walked into the frame making it more active and impromptu.

All three criteria I was using were successfully met in this shot.

 

B)      Fast winding for a second shot. I saw this young woman in front of the city Court House and wanted to test the Zeiss Opton lens for the feel of texture and transitions of gray one can only truly get on film. So I took a first photo, then I realized that I had kept the shutter speed on 1/100^th second which would be too fast for the shady areas of the frame. Thus, I quickly changed the speed to 1/50^th second and took a second one. The winding was as smooth as one would expect from a Rolleiflex and the shutter operated flawlessly.

Interestingly, when I developed the film, I realised that the first photo had captured more contrast between the textured of the sun-lit stone wall and the young lady in the middle of the frame. So, even though the negative frame showed more intense shade as I had allowed less light to pass through the lens at faster shutter speed, I opted to printing that frame rather than the second photo I took where much more of the street was captured and looked too crowded.

C)      Focusing in dimmer light. The painter was sitting on the grass in front of her kiosk for a break. I was about 50 meters away but wanted to capture the moment of respite, as I had noticed her painting standing up in front of her easel. As I was about to focus the frame, a large cloud masqued the sunlight that was already filtered through the large trees shading that part of the square. So, it got even dimmer in the view finder and I missed the focus as it was just short of the infinity mark on the focusing knob.

 But I do like the off-focus shot. It somehow makes the scene, including the trees and the two passers-by, a bit old-fashioned, and the vintage flavor of the Zeiss lens comes through.

 

Will I use the Rolleiflex to replace my Minolta Autocord? No, I have run miles of film through the latter and I have the comfort and feel using the camera. However, in nostalgic moments, the precision of the Rolleiflex mechanism is pure joy to revisit, even when it is not as functionally dependable as the Minolta to yield higher percentage of “keeper shots”.

And, the Minolta will never have the sentimental memories I have taking Mothers’ Day photos.

 

 May 13, 2025

© Vahé  A. Kazandjian, 2025

The 1951 Exakta VX: an Iconic German Camera Every Film Photographer Should Try at Least Once

 

 I was reading about upcoming new medium format cameras, all of them digital, and realised that the prominent message was that they are small, light and simple to use. And I thought about the 2-3 kg cameras that a few decades ago were the envy of professionals – the Hasselblads, Mamiyas and the occasional Kiev or Salyut for photographers who needed to do weight lifting exercises in their hotel rooms while on assignment!

And, I went to the back of my camera shelves to look for my 1951 Exakta VX to remind me how complicated, heavy and odd professional cameras once were.

I have a few Exakta cameras, and a select number of Carl Zeiss lenses. In the 1990s I used to travel with my trusty 1967 Nikon F, and a 1954 Canon L3 or Leica IIIF for backup. The most frequent medium format camera to join that lineup was a Minolta Autocord from the 1970s. In those days, professional cameras were all mechanical and their attraction was not weight or simplicity of use, but the quality of the lenses, all made of steel and amazing glass. Carl Zeiss lenses set the standard of excellence starting with the 1938 Leica camera, and continue today with their glorious past.

… The Exakta is a breed apart from all 35mm cameras made before and after the 1950s. First, they were the only professional cameras with a trapezoid shape body, which in fact aligns nicely with the human body when using a waist-level viewer. Then, the film winder lever was on the left, and so was the shutter button, but not atop the camera as all other 35mm cameras have since adopted, but on the front of the trapezoid body. And to add to the eccentricity of it all, the arm of the winder had to be rotated more than 180 degrees around making it impossible to have a camera strap! So, the photographer’s right hand was only to focus the lens and hold the weight of the camera, while the left hand fingers operated the winder lever and searched for the shutter button between shots. The reason was that focusing requires more dexterity than winding the film or pressing the shutter button, at least for right-handed users.

 

And these were only the peculiarity on the outside of the camera. To load film, one had to pull and rotate a wonderfully chromed knob which sat on a strong steel spring made to last at least a century. After opening the back, one had two choices: load the film on the right side of the camera because the winding lever is on the left, or, load two canisters (one where the film spool would be on the left and the other on the right) for an ingenious reason I will explain next.

So, here are two illustrations to the above:

A.    Loading film the “usual” way

Everyone who has used a film camera knows how to load film, except that with Exaktas, the film canister is placed on the right of the camera and the film strip travels from right to left, where the winding lever is placed.

But what is that sickle-shaped contraption to the left of the right canister?

B) Loading two canisters the “Exakta” way

And here comes the iconic Exacta film cutter! In this photo I pulled the cutter down to show the movement – the photographer would pull the small rod down and the sickle-shaped cutter head would slice the film strip.

And that is why one needed two film canisters.  Well, if a photographer took the shot she/he wanted at the very start of say, a 36 frame roll of film, then in order to develop that roll, it would be necessary to rewind the film back and thus lose 20 or so frames worth of film. But, given the film cutter Exakta engineers thought of, only the first few frames can be rewound into the right canister, the sickle-shaped blade would cut the film strip leaving plenty of unused film strip in the left canister (where the entire roll had to be rolled in by tightly obscuring the lens) to restart another shooting session. The whole process takes about 20 minutes, assuming the camera was in experienced hands. But film was expensive then, and has become expensive again in 2025!

About the photo atop the page

As I was walking, I saw a photographer taking portraiture shots of a couple. I was about 20 meters away, and did not have time to focus. So, I guessed (zone focused) and framed the shot. Technically, it is majorly imperfect, but the sun in her hair and the instant the couple stole a kiss were captured to tell a story. It was the true critical moment I wanted to capture.

Final thoughts

Exakta was a professional camera in the 1950s, and very expensive (it is said that it cost as much as three months’ salary of a German engineer.) The lenses, when sold in the US, were also expensive. I found a brochure of the prices:

Exaktas, given their capricious design perhaps, did not become popular in the US, except in Alfred Hitchcock’s classic 1954 movie “Rear Window” where Jimmy Stewart used the exact camera I have to spy on his neighbors out his apartment's rear window. To see that far, he used a humongous Kilfitt Fern-Kilar f/5.6 400mm lens that would easily qualify as a short telescope!

But, it is pure German engineering, and after 75 years, my Exakta works as a charm. The lenses, however often suffer from dried lubricants and the focusing can freeze. My Triotar was frozen, but I was able to re-lubricate it enough to be useful. However I did have difficulty in focusing quickly, something that is crucial in street photography.

Finally, while it is assumed that using a waist level focusing camera does not attract the attention of subjects, such an assumption may not be true when using a chrome body lens and an odd looking camera that shine under the desert sun! Here is the proof:

 

When a camera and lens look like this, it is not surprising that this lady tried to lower her hat, even when I was at least 30 meters in front of her….

 

April 6, 2025

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2025

Feet, Boots and the Making of a Path

 

I received a note from a reader who shared a few thoughts after reading my essay about walking making paths (https://vahezen.blogspot.com/2024/04/caminante-no-hay-camino-antonio-machado.html). In this essay I shared my thoughts about how the Spanish poet Antonio Machado proposed that through our travel in life, we make our own paths, perhaps where paths did not exist before our walk. The the final image of his poem compared our passage to wake trails boats make through the waves. Machado suggested that those wake trails disappear after our passage, like a vanishing past.

I did not agree with that perspective, and wrote:

.. In my walks, I might have made a road or two. And I have looked back, without regret yet sometimes with nostalgia. And when I sit in my rocking chair and try to understand, I still believe that ships do not lose their wake trails in the sea, because trails made by cutting waves find their way back to beaches they know, to the mossy rocks that await them.

Wake trails do not disappear.

 

As I sat down to respond to the reader, memories of past trails came to my mind, in a rather unexpected way. Indeed, I found myself dancing under a mirror ball at Nancy Sinatra’s song These Boots are Made for Walkin’! It was the late 1960’s and I was in middle school.

So, I thought I would answer the reader as a street photographer.

I looked through my “Unused Moments” file and chose three photos taken with a medium format Twin Lens Reflex Minolta Autocord, which not only allows for becoming an unnoticed photographer and does not make people change their behavior, but puts me “at their level” both regarding perspective and willingness to become one with their moment.

 

Bare feet and boots (photo atop the page). I take photos of moments that sometimes do not tell a story by themselves. But when put together, they represent a medley of attitudes and behaviors. There is a kindness in this frame, and a promise. The bare feet are the future “explorers” for a path; the boots of woman have already stopped to give the friendly dog a pat on the head. There is much action in this frozen moment.

Singing in the street. And there is music and dancing in this photo. These Southwestern boots are made for the regional identity of a cowboy/cowgirl and for country songs. It feels like a path from the past that did not disappear with the passage.

 

 

Ice cream and memories. This one made my smile! Well, perhaps there is more than boots and feet that make us stop, linger a bit, and enjoy an ice cream cone on a hot day. The feet of that walker had stopped, but the mind was perhaps traveling between the past and the future. And I was there to find that split second to freeze a tongue reaching the ice cream scoop!

 

… Robert Frost took the “less traveled road” when “two roads diverged in a yellow wood”, and “that has made all the difference”.

The roads we make by walking did not exist before our passage. They were not less taken. But they will be taken by others, some day.

As such roads do not disappear like wake trails boats make in the water.

 

PS/ I hope I was able to answer my reader, even if I used “Kodak Moments” instead of words…

 

February 22, 2025

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2025

 

Nikon’s AI Manual Focus Lenses Refer to “Auto Indexing” not “Artificial Intelligence”

 

 

I have been following the new wave of new cameras, some using film, others digital but looking like vintage cameras.  The latter seem to follow the periodic nostalgia humans have to fashion, the arts and perhaps values. Interestingly, some of the “new retro” looking cameras is advertised as having the feel of vintage ones.

I have never owned a digital camera, but did try a few my friends strongly suggested I should experience. I have always returned to my black boxes with a few shutter speeds. The reason has been two-fold: partnership and feel. Like any artist or artisan using a tool, creativity is undeniably related to the joy of using that tool. And sometimes, it is the journey through that partnership that provides the satisfaction and pleasure, no matter the outcome.

So, as I was reading that some of the new cameras are now made in metal not “plastic”, I looked at the shelves where my cameras are organized by maker, rangefinders separate from SLRs and medium format TLRs, including the section where non-functioning cameras and partially dismantled ones are displayed. The latter have been my “organ donors” to repair ones that suffered untimely ailments…

In the Nikon section, my eyes fell upon the 1982 FG. I had bought it to complete my collection, but the moment I handled it almost a quarter century ago, I knew it will not be the tool that would be my partner in creativity, nor provide the feel during the experience.

But, over the years, I have periodically pushed myself to give it a second chance, ignore the un-nikonness of it, pretend that the film advance lever was a smooth as a Nikon F3, that the metering was revolutionary, and that it fit in my hands like gloves made of Peccary leather.

I used it last a year ago (https://liveingray.blogspot.com/2024/07/prescott-arizona-2024-july-4th-frontier.html) but as always, I put it back on the shelf, knowing that I will again get the urge to find a reason as to why I own it.

A few days ago, reading about new cameras, I wondered how it will feel and use a 1970s all-metal and glass lens that was at least 3 times heavier than the FG itself. And that lens was the first version of the 1970s Vivitar Series1 70-210mm zoom made by Kiron, made for the Nikon F. I had used that lens decades ago on my 1968 Nikon F to take school soccer game photos. I recall, even then, a few parents wondering what kind of prehistoric camera I was using. So, it has been sitting on the shelf since.

Here is the Vivitar Series 1 lens

And its imposing presence!

But with the urge of using it on the FG, I went downtown Prescott to test the new contraption.

The zoom range is certainly not suitable for street photography, nor is the size/weight of the lens for quick handling. And, forget about candid shots when people see that massive tube in front of my face! However, I managed to take a few shots using the FG’s aperture priority mode at f11 aperture. The photo at the top of the page is my favorite, and I will discuss it later, but given the history of the lens, a few words about the evolution of Nikon SLR camera mounts seems appropriate.

A quick history of Nikon lens mounts

The first Nikon F camera was produced in 1959 and had a patented “Nikon Bayonet” mount. The lenses made for that bayonet mount had an aperture coupling prong (sometimes called rabbit ears) coupled with a small lever on the external Photomic light meter unit and, after a full rotation by the photographer of the aperture ring, the rabbit ears “told” the camera what aperture the lens was so the light meter can indicate the appropriate speed in the viewfinder.

It was not until 1977 that Nikon introduced to the bayonet mount a structure leading to a new way of coupling the aperture ring to the light meter. It was called AI or Auto Indexing AI lenses have a ridge that catches a feeler on a ring surrounding the lens mount on the camera.

While non-AI lenses’ rabbit ears had to couple with the light meter lever and the photographer had to rotate the aperture ring to inform the light meter about the lens, now AI lenses had an internal mechanical structure that immediately upon mounting the lens, informed the camera about the maximum aperture of the lens allowing the light meter to get ready for the correct metering using that specific lens. So, from 1959 to 1977, not only all Nikon SLR lenses were Non-AI (sometimes also called Pre-AI) but there were third party lens manufacturers who produced a plethora of Non-AI lenses. None of these lenses had the quality or performance of a Nikon, but many stood out with their creativity and surprisingly impressive results. The first Kiron made version of the Vivitar Series 1 70-210mm was among those that shined (there were 6 versions of that lens but none achieved the performance of the first version, the only one that was Non-AI).

Nikon continued the tradition of the rabbit ears, to visually identify them as AI. But more importantly, the AI lenses could still be mounted and used on the older F-mount cameras.

Finally, given the sublime built and performance of Non-AI lenses, Nikon (and others) made upgrading rings with that famous groove to allow Non-AI lenses behave like AI lenses on the post 1977 Nikon mounts. These metamorphosed lenses are called AI’d allowing seamlessly the use historic Nikon lenses on newer Nikon cameras.

Visual difference between Non-AI and AI lenses

The original rabbit ears for the Nikon F bayonet mount are solid metal. Here is the venerable 50mm f1.4 Nikkor-S Auto from 1964.

 

All professionally AI’d lenses had the new ring added to the lens and perforated rabbit ears. The new conversion ring added a second, in smaller numbers, set of aperture numbers to the lens. These changes can be seen on my 1971 Nikkor- P 180mm f2.8 lens.

 

And then there are non-professional conversions. These are the most creative ones (when they work) and shows how much owners cared about their old lens and wanted to continue using them post 1977. I have seen quite a few such creative conversions, but the one done on my Vivitar 70-210mm is the most unusual but it works! Whoever did this was a minimalist – he added a home-made T-clip to the existing aperture ring to catch the new groove of the Nikon mounting base and make the 1972 Vivitar Non-AI zoom lens AI’d!  Perhaps it is fun to use this lens just for this peculiar characteristic?

 

Why did I go into this long explanation? First, hopefully some readers will find it interesting as a historical overview, but also because I have many of those AI’d lenses that continue to provide the vintage look to photography none of the modern Nikon lenses can. Perhaps to the avid B&W photographer, they would provide a unique experience.

But, the photo at the top of this page says otherwise. I was genuinely surprised by the sharpness of the result as I took the photo handheld, at full zoom and f11 from about 50 meters of the memorial statue. The contrast is low, as expected, even with the makeshift lens shade I made. But with no zoom creep, the focusing is very reliable and the sharpness of the lens is truly surprising. Here is a cropped section of the inscription on the memorial, which was the spot I focused on hoping that, the two gentlemen (and the dog) sitting a few meters in the background will be more blurred. Too bad I did not have the chance to take a second shot at f4….

 

I knew that the heft and width of the Vivitar lens felt just right in my hands and I was able to remain very steady, something I had never managed when using the FG with smaller and lighter lenses.

Is it possible that, after 25 years, I have found the right lens-camera combination for the FG?

 

February 9, 2025

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2025

 

PS/ I realise that many young photographers have not seen or used a Non-AI lens fitting the Nikon F, nor perhaps the AI lenses that made the Nikon 2 and Nikon 3 milestones in photographic history. Yet, I find it a timely retrospective trip to see what the term AI once meant to those who ran miles of film pellicule through their cameras and spend endless hours in makeshift darkrooms to burn or dodge a 5x7 or 8x10 photographic paper under the faint light of an enlarger.

And, what AI means today to those who have all the technology in their hands and can see, the instant it has been taken, the photo on the screen back of the camera. And, in full sunlight, they can edit those photos with AI.

For me, washing the printed paper with cold water in the darkroom sink, surrounded with the lingering aroma of the Stop Bath solution (for those who still remember what that is), is a pleasure I am not ready to forego.