Snap Decisions
May, 1966
The Young Man returning from lunch pauses at the window of a camera store and is caught up by the display. Stretched before him are examples of the precision workmanship evident in cameras today: the compact ruggedness of metal bodies sheathed in black, pebble-grained leather; the gleam of wide-eyed lenses; the glisten of polished or satin chrome; the knurled knobs, the assertive levers, the dials etched with numerals. He reflects upon what he would like to have photographed—the wondrous places he's been, the people he's known—and with the days stretching to summer's length, he knows there will be much more.
But he's late. He turns and hurries off. And that which really served to deter him from entering the store may have been more than his prompt return to the office. The contemporary male prides himself on his knowledge of diverse subjects and his ability to converse in the varied idioms they require, whether the topic be jazz, underground movies, Grand Prix cars, civil rights, Vietnam, Wall Street or Madison Avenue; and his conversations are often spiced (text continued on page 126)Snap Decisions(continued from page 121) with acronymic shorthand: CORE, NATO, SEATO, AID; along with those lower-case abbreviations: rpm, cps, fps, mph. But he is unconsciously wary of that photographic mumbo jumbo that lies beyond his ken. "Mamiya, Konica, Nikon, Yashica, Summicron, Xenar?" a salesman may ask. Or, "What about compensated parallax, pellicle mirror and depth-of-field preview?" Then, too, there is a foreign acronymic scrabble: CdS, EVS, SLR, ASA and MXV.
In making an ego-preserving, confusion-terminating purchase without forethought, many otherwise knowledgeable men have later discovered that they've either overbought or underbought; or the camera's too clumsy, too small or too intricate. The epitaphs for such ill-planned ventures appear regularly in the Sunday classifieds, beginning with those famous last words: "Like New..."
Camera buying is analogous to buying a car. Obviously, if the car buyer is seeking transportation alone, the choice among suitable cars may be merely that of price, color and seating; but if his wants are more specialized—whether it be in the direction of a small, high-strung sports car or a sleek, powerful land yacht—it will be necessary to weigh the virtues, and drawbacks, of many offerings. In an earlier day, things were simpler. A knowledgeable turn-of-the-century blade was faced with but one decision: "Yes, I want a Kodak," or "No, I'm not interested in photography."
It was in the hot summer of 1888 that George Eastman, a maker of photographic dry plates, introduced mass production to camera manufacture. Compared with the expensive hand-crafted cameras of that day, Eastman's lightly constructed box would have won few prizes for beauty or workmanship, but behind its single-aperture, fixed-focus f/9 lens with its ingenious barrel shutter was the secret that served to bring photography out of the realm of an esoteric art and into our mass culture: a roll of film.
Roll film was not an original idea, but Eastman had learned to perfect its production in large quantities; when the use of a nitro-cellulose base was discovered, he virtually monopolized its manufacture. By creating a camera for its use, Eastman aimed at volume sales with an instruction sheet that was a veritable sales pitch: "Today photography has been reduced to three cycles. 1. Pull the string. 2. Turn the key. 3. Press the button. This is the essence of photography...it is now feasible for everybody."
The appeal to the public was simplicity of operation and the relatively low initial cost of this new exciting hobby. For a mere $25 one could get a camera containing a roll of film sufficient for 100 exposures, along with a handsome leather carrying case. After "shooting out the roll," all one had to do was mail the camera, intact, back to the factory, at which point the film would be removed, processed and printed. Then, everything (including the camera containing a fresh roll of film) would be returned—all for an additional $10. "You Press the Button, We Do the Rest," Eastman's advertising slogan proclaimed.
With his flair for slogans and sales pitches, Eastman was not an ordinary businessman. His crowning contribution was in supplying what Mad Ave might term the psychological motivation: "A collection of these pictures," he announced, "may be made to furnish a pictorial history of life as it is lived by the owner, that will grow more valuable every day that passes."
Then, coining a short, vigorous name for his camera, he christened it the "Kodak" and proceeded to sell over 100,000 of them within the first two years. For decades thereafter, the name Kodak was to be used as a synonym for camera.
Today, Kodak is no longer merely a camera, but an empire. So, too, are those that have followed: Agfa, Ansco, Fuji, Leitz, Nippon Kogaku and the other giants of the industry. The decision as to which camera will best suit one's needs remains an individual choice. The more popular, general-use cameras can be separated into four categories: 1. The simplifieds, which are more than adequate for minimal needs and require a minimum of involvement in both money and time. 2. The versatile compacts, consisting of cameras using full-frame 35mm film, ideal for fast shooting and color slides. 3. The versatile mediums, using the large, 120mm films, for those who want bigger pictures and who work more deliberately. 4. The tiny totables, for those interested in precision cameras with a minimum of bulk.
After determining the type of camera you're interested in, you can zero in on your final selection by considering the amount of money you plan to spend and the camera's intended use. It is as ridiculous to buy a $500 camera to shoot snapshots as it is to buy a Maserati to drive a few blocks to the liquor store.
Figure on spending no more than $100 for minimal use. From there to about $200 will provide you with a darn good camera. From $200 to $350 you'll be able to buy top-quality, professional-type equipment; and from $350 on up, the most ambitious amateur or demanding pro can equip himself handsomely, indeed.
If George Eastman can be credited with the invention of simplified photography, Dr. Edwin Land can be considered to have one-upped him with instant photography. To paraphrase, "You Press the Button, the Camera Does the Rest." Laboring under the label Polaroid, Dr. Land's cameras lack the terse vigor of a name like Kodak. But, be they known by any name, they are as sweet a machine for those interested in eliminating not only much of the mechanics of taking pictures but the necessities of processing and printing at a time when it may be too late to correct one's errors.
Of the many models available, the 100–104 series is the most inventive. In this series, a CdS (Cadmium Sulphide) cell gauges the exposure and relays it to an electronic shutter programed to aperture settings. The photographer's concentration is limited to the essentials of focusing, framing and keeping the camera steady. For those who prefer manual controls, there's a top-line Model 180 and, at the other extreme, there's a low-price job, with a wrist strap, called The Swinger.
A Greenwich Village acquaintance, induced out of a euphoric semi-slumber, once remarked, "Yeah, photography's a gas; but that film loading has got to be a drag." In deference to him and to the millions of others who felt the same, Kodak brought the movie camera's magazine-load system into popular use in still photography with a series of cameras designed especially to take a new two-chambered Kodapak cartridge that could be drop-loaded without any further fuss or bother. George Eastman's formula of simplified cameras equaling volume sales has again been proven in these modern-day Kodaks, called the Instamatics, with at least a dozen different models available, ranging in price from $20 to more than $120. The more expensive ones are delights unto themselves, featuring motorized film and flash-cube advance. With symbols and words that appear brightly lit in the viewfinder, they spell simplicity itself. Kodak's competitors in this Instamatic field include such highly respected names as Argus, Revere, Yashica, Zeiss, Voigtlander and Ricoh.
To compete with the Instamatic system, the Agfa people developed their own system, called the "Rapid," designed for the more popular 35mm film as opposed to the 126 film size of the Instamatic. The Rapid system consists of a specially designed cartridge that holds unexposed film, with a mate working as a take-up cartridge after the film passes through the camera. As with the Instamatics, you don't have to rewind after the final exposure has been made: The now-emptied cartridge is used for take-up and a fresh, fully loaded cartridge inserted in its place. At this point, the line of cameras utilizing the Rapid system is not as extensive as the Instamatics, but Agfa, Dacora, Yashica, Voigtlander, Ricoh and Minolta are all in the market with models under $75. Two Japanese manufacturers, Bell & Howell/Canon and Konica, are introducing their own (continued on page 193)Snap Decisions(continued from page 126) fast-loading systems into some of their current 35mm models. Canon's system is called the Q-L (Quick-Load), while Konica's is known as the IGL (Insta-Grip Loading). Both systems are extremely practical and require no special cartridges, since the mechanics occur in the take-up spool. But they do require rewinding the film into its original cartridge.
Minimal photography is like having a casual girlfriend. You get some of the advantages without the emotional involvement. Those who want to keep their photography as simple and painless as possible should confine their camera browsing to most of the Polaroids, the cartridge-loading Instamatic types and cameras using the Rapid-load system.
But snapshooting hardly touches the surface of photography's potential. Today's precision cameras are magnificent recording machines. The lenses are capable of discerning the finest of lines and rendering these in critically sharp focus; the shutters can accurately measure off a second of time—with all of the intermediate split seconds up to an action-freezing 1/2000th of a second. The workmanship evident today makes the early Kodaks look like miniature packing crates; and the keen competition that exists has brought the prices for most of these wondrous recording machines within the reach of the average photographic initiate.
• • •
Those who desire more than photography "by the numbers" should give serious consideration to the general-purpose cameras that use two of the most popular film sizes: the 35mm, representing the versatile compacts, and the 120mm versatile mediums.
The 35mm is the closest thing to an all-purpose camera, with wide-apertured, precision-ground optics and shutters conceded to be among the fastest made. Most 35s feature lens interchangeability, providing a choice selection from extreme wide-angles to long telephotos. And there are more different types of general-purpose 35mm film available—in black and white and color—than for any other size.
If you plan to restrict the majority of your efforts to producing color slides for projection, go no further: This is the place. Most slide projectors today are made either exclusively for, or will accept, the 2" x 2" frames in which 35mm transparencies are mounted.
In the main, there are two schools of camera design followed by 35mm-camera manufacturers—the rangefinder system and the single-lens reflex (SLR) system. The choice of which design is best for you will be a matter of individual preference.
In 1924, Leitz produced the first precision 35mm camera. About eight years later, they incorporated a rangefinder system of focusing into the design and this principle was rapidly emulated by competitive manufacturers of quality 35mm cameras. Over the years, automatic, semi-automatic and coupled exposure meters, single-stroke film advances and built-in synchronization have been added to the rangefinder cameras, but the basic design has remained essentially the same. With viewing and focusing occurring through a window above and slightly offset from the lens, the camera is unhindered by a mirror behind the lens, and its shape approaches a pure rectangle with a much slimmer body—lighter, more compact and generally quieter in operation—than most SLRs.
With the tremendous popularity of the SLR design, one may wonder why the rangefinders manage to remain so popular. Obviously, lightness and compactness are undeniable virtues; but a stronger virtue yet is the rangefinder's focusing system—requiring the matching of coincident images or the aligning of split images. Actual practice has proven that this can be done faster and more accurately than the ground-glass focusing of the SLRs, especially under weak-light conditions.
For those who want a fast-working camera that performs at its best for rapid-fire candid shooting and provides the least encumbrance, the rangefinder models should be preferable.
The theory and the original design of the single-lens reflex cameras can be traced back to around 1830, when patents for such a camera were registered in England. However, the distinction of being the first to manufacture precision 35mm SLRs belongs to the Exaktas, which appeared in 1936. They were well received by those who loved beautiful, complicated machines and by those who found the SLR system ideal for scientific work, close-up macrophotography and photomicrography. However, beyond these and a scattering of amateur devotees, the SLR design made no serious mark upon the camera world.
The status with SLRs remained quo until three major innovations of recent years remedied the handicaps with which the early Exaktas had been shackled: First, a pentaprism housing, which simultaneously righted the reversed mirror image and brought the camera up to eye level, was incorporated into the design for the majority of SLR cameras; second, an "instant-return" mirror, which minimized image black-out to just the duration of the exposure, was added; and, finally, along came an automatic diaphragm permitting viewing, composing and focusing at the maximum aperture of the lens.
It is these factors—combined with the validity of seeing your picture precisely as the film sees it—that have contributed to the immense popularity of SLRs. With a single-lens reflex, one can literally shoot through a knothole in a fence, determining and precisely controlling not only the placement of your subject and its sharpness, but that of all objects relating to it in your composed frame, even those that may be but scant inches in front of the lens.
While the rangefinder system is limited to medium telephotos (the longest being a 135mm, after which an accessory reflex-mirror attachment is required), the SLRs obviously have no such limitations: You can get as long a telephoto lens as your particular camera can handle. One of the newest innovations, appearing in several SLR cameras, is that of having CdS cells placed behind the lens system that read the actual amount of light being transmitted through the lens. Since even the best of lenses will suffer some light loss in transmission, the theory behind this type of built-in exposure system is certainly a practical one.
Incorporating a mirror system adds a bit more bulk, a touch more heft and a bit more noise to the SLRs. But these are insignificant, measurable only in mere fractions of inches, ounces and decibels. These cameras should be preferred by the more deliberate, careful worker who, having complete control over the composition of his photograph, is interested in exploiting this advantage.
Among the rangefinder cameras, probably the most respected are the Leicas. The top of this line, the M3, will run slightly under $450, and there are several models available for less. Closest competitors, and good buys, are the Bell & Howell/Canons, whose to-line Model 7s cost around $300. If you plan to do a lot of rapid-sequence photography, take a look at the Robot line. Their Royal models will match the Leica M3 in price tags.
For less expensive tastes there are several extremely good cameras, each boasting special features. Among these are the Kodak Retinas, Minolta, the Zeiss line, Mamiya, Konica, Argus, Ricoh, Yashica, Voigtlander and Agfa.
The SLR is where the action is today. Expected very soon is the new Konica Auto S Reflex, introducing the first fully automatic SLR focal-plane camera, plus a framing device that will permit the owner to shoot either standard-frame 35mm or half-frames. Another revolutionary entry in the field is the B&H/Canon Pellix, which sells for around $300 and sports a stationary pellicle mirror that reflects approximately 30 percent of the light coming through the lens into the viewfinder and transmits the remaining 70 percent. Especially worth while for extreme wide-angle work is the ability to view through the Pellix' new 19mm f/3.5 lens.
Probably the longest-awaited SLR to arrive on the scene was the Leicaflex, which finally appeared, after several years of rumors regarding its virtues, in mid-1965 at a price level that it shares with the Zeiss Contarex and the Alpa 9d: the most expensive. The initial reception was highly enthusiastic. The workmanship was up to Leitz' incomparability. Its instant-return mirror was practically inaudible. Its viewfinder, the brightest yet. But after the clamor subsided, it became apparent that except for within a small circular area in the viewing screen, the viewfinder didn't focus. In a broad sense, Leitz won the dubious distinction of having created what might be called a single-lens reflex/rangefinder camera.
The relief shared by other SLR camera manufacturers was best summed up by the president of one of Leitz' major competitors. "The mountain labored." he said, "and brought forth a mouse."
The Leitz designers retreated to the drawing boards, and rumors are again rampant about the improved, "professional" model of the Leicaflex being designed. Meanwhile, another German giant, Francke & Heidecke, the Rol-leiflex people, are preparing to enter the SLR field. While their initial entry (to be premiered this fall at trade shows) will be a 120mm model, a 35mm model is said to be secretly in work and, if approved, is set for debut in early 1968.
One of the most popular SLR cameras today is the Nikon F, which sells for a bit above $300. The Honeywell/Pentax line starts at somewhat less, and the Beseler Topcon Super D runs a little more. Both warrant a close look. Slightly less expensive are a raft of exceptionally fine SLRs. The names to look for are Miranda, Kodak Retina, Bell & Howell/Canon, Zeiss Contaflex, Nikkormat FT, Exakta, Konica and Minolta SR-7. Most of these lines also offer models for under $200 that compete with the lower-priced but highly respected names such as Yashica, Agfa, Praktica, Edixa, Ricoh, Petriflex and Praktina.
The 35mms are easily totable and are the most versatile of cameras. The quality of their photographs will be superb, considering their size.
• • •
Size can be an important factor. The more you have to enlarge, the more your image will deteriorate. If you want large black-and-white enlargements or enlarged color reproductions where minute details will have to hold together, then consider carefully the versatile mediums, the 120s. While the cameras, physically and psychologically, are not as suitable for animated candid shooting as are the 35s, they are superb for carefully posed or composed pictures.
Cameras in this size follow three types of design: the SLR design similar to the 35s, which was pioneered in the 120 size by the now-extinct Korelle Reflex; the twin-lens design, which Francke & Heidecke fathered with their Rolleiflex and Rolleicord lines; and a "press-type" design, which uses the rangefinder system of sighting and focusing.
Prior to the upsurge in SLR popularity, which Hasselblad exploited in the 120 field with precision-made cameras boasting of interchangeability in both film backs and lenses, the twin-lens design had ruled the roost. The Hasselblads were followed shortly by the Bronica S series, which added an instant-return mirror of a unique design. Instead of springing up, the mirror moves downward—a special advantage for deep-seated wide-angle lenses.
Among the four major 120 cameras utilizing a "press-type" design, the Graflex XL is probably unique. It might be called a do-it-yourself camera kit, coming equipped with three standard camera bodies that can be assembled in many ways, even to a point where it can use Polaroid Film Packs as well as sheet-film holders. It has to be seen to be believed. The one possibility it suggests, however, is that the purchaser may enjoy assembling and reassembling cameras to the extent that photography becomes secondary.
Competition for the Graflex XL comes from the prestigious Linhof Press 70, the Mamiya 23 Deluxe and Standard and the newly revived Koni-Omega.
Competitors to the Rollei line are the well-known Minolta Autocord; the many excellent, low-priced models produced by Yashica; and the versatile Mamiyaflex. In addition to the Bronica and the Hasselblad in the SLR design are the Praktisix II, the Kalimar and the Optika.
• • •
With the popularity of tummy TVs, miniaturized tape recorders and wee transistorized radios, it's no surprise that tiny totable cameras are also in vogue. Advancements in film emulsions and fine-grain film developers had much to do with the acceptance of the 35mm camera; and this, invariably, led to the re-introduction of the single-frame 35mm cameras (remember the old Perfex and the Univex?). Only, this time around, the frame size, 18mm x 24mm, is called the "half-frame."
The half-frames make slight pretense of appeal to the professional market. Their target is the individual who likes to have a camera he can drop into his jacket pocket and not get too deeply involved in the mechanics of photography.
The best known of these are the Canon Demis, the Olympus Pens, the Fujica Drive and the Minolta Reporter. There are several others, at lower prices. All are substantially worthy, with some boasting of automatic exposure controls, spring-motor-driven film transports and flash synchronization. Here, indeed, are goodies galore for the modicum buyer.
Deserving a category of its own is the Tessina, which uses 35mm film but delivers a size smaller than the conventional half-frames. No larger than a good-sized matchbook, it is designed for the unobtrusive type of picture taking for which the Minox is best known. Other unique features are a twin-lens reflex design with an optional prismfinder and a spring-wound motor that delivers approximately eight rapid-sequence shots on a single wind.
By now the virtues of the Minox are well known. While it is, by all standards, a precision camera, the 9.5mm film size does create a handicap. Having judged their 1965 national photography contest, we know these tiny, fingernail-sized negatives can be blown up to 16x20. Regretfully, the challenge of mammoth blowups tends to become somewhat of an obsession with some Minox owners.
Several subminiatures are also available in the 16mm film size. The Gami 16, while still being manufactured, is difficult to come by. Another excellent buy in this line is the brand-new Rollei 16, with automatic exposure controls. You can find such respected names as Minolta, Yashica and Edixa, in the lower price ranges as well.
What it all comes down to is that there are sizes, types and specialized cameras to meet almost every need and every price level. The important point is to select the one that best suits your specific needs. After buying a camera, read the instruction booklet carefully; then work all of the levers, knobs, aperture settings, etc., until you're familiar with the instrument. Practice holding it, bracing your arms against your body for steadiness; then practice squeezing the shutter release without moving the camera.
Only after becoming completely familiar with the operation of the camera should you put film into it. After that, you might follow the advice that Dr. Land, inventor of the Automatic Color Picture Machine, gives in his instruction booklet:
"Please remember," says Dr. Land, "that even the finest camera and film need some help from the photographer if they are to produce good pictures. That help can be summed up in one sentence: Plan and think before you shoot."
This is the essence of photography. It can be boiled down to three separate operations, to be engraved, color-coded, on the glistening dials of the photographer's consciousness: 1. Plan. 2. Think. 3. Shoot. To which we'd like to add a fourth: Relax and enjoy it.
playboy's wide-angle look at current and upcoming camera gear, with an audio-visual assist by woody allen
"There's nothing to it—the real pro makes his equipment work for him."
"Why be half safe?"
"So then I told her to stop by my pad and I'd see about getting her in Playboy."
"Help! I'm being held prisioner in a Chinese tripod factory."
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