Morning folks - here we go again!
You know, incredibly, on the 9th of March TEN YEARS AGO, I started Blogging.
It was a weird new-fangled sort o' thang and I wasn't sure what I'd make of it and yet here we are, sitting on a bench enjoying some swigs of Tizer and a nice packet of Cheese n' Onion crisps, overlooking a landfill site packed with 164 published posts.
Weirdly if feels like a lot more than that.
But hey-ho . . . to coin a modern phrase "It Is What It Is."
If you've read them all, God Bless You - it can't have been easy!
Anyway, here's another and there I was, with time on my hands, a wee bit of cash in my pocket, a Rolleiflex that was starting to play up and a head full of ideas.
Regular readers will know that I am a Hassleblad Man through and through these days.
Cue craggy jaw, Bee-Gees style quiffy hair, something nice and polyestery for togs and a 500C/M around my neck . . . however, and it is a big however, toting a 500 and say a 250mm lens around a City Centre the likes of Dundee results in two things:
One, you look like a bit of a twat and
Two, you look like a bit of a twat.
Y'see the Blad is very much a consideration, and especially these days when you see nobody with cameras, well, one can feel, how to say, a tad conspicuous.
It feels gigantic, even though it is actually not that bad.
Sadly I've never had an 80mm Planar - maybe I would feel different then, however the 60mm Distagon is a similar size and it can still feel like you're toting something very unusual.
As an amendum to this and given the way things are going, I have resigned myself to the fact that it is now very unlikely I will ever be able to afford a nice 80mm CF Planar.
Anyway, this set me thinking, and I came to the conclusion that a TLR is probably the most user-friendly and inconspicuous camera capable of decent quality images out there.
I've used TLRs for years, way back to my College days of a Mamiya C330F weighing me down like a boat anchor; through a couple of decades being a Rollei T user and a side-trip along the Minolta Autocord bypass.
They're handy and small.
You get more real estate for your money than 35mm and if, like me, the prospect of taking 36 (or even 24) photographs is something that makes you go "Waaaaah!" then the 12 (or 16 with Rollei's handy 16-on kits) is not quite as bad.
The (roughly) packet of Jacob's Cream Crackers (70's style) size of a TLR is quite discreet, allied with the fact that it mostly never leaves your front panel (midriff and chest) means you've got a high quality picture making machine that doesn't poke out too much (unlike a Hasselblad).
Anyway, thinking like that, I thought Why not get a Rolleicord Va or Vb?
Whilst I am not entirely off that idea, there didn't seem to be much difference from my current Rollei set-up, apart from a more reliable film transport.
Why not get the T repaired?
Well it has been before and to be honest you're going to be a small fortune these days.
It is weird how repair vs. disposability is becoming a factor in buying older cameras, so something a tad newer and less battered was a consideration, though that isn't always the case as we shall see.
So I went through the gamut:
Rolleicord - all varieties - very similar to my T - not discounted.
Yashica - fine, but getting expensive.
Ricohs et al - again, fine, but pretty ancient now.
MPP Microcord - as above
Zeiss Ikoflex - nice but as an everyday tool?
Mamiya - ah, God, the Black Hole Brick.
It was Bruce at the Online Darkroom that suggested the Mam.
Like me, he'd used them back in the 80's, and we both still have the scars to prove it.
The C330 in all iterations, is, to put it bluntly heavy.
Weight with lens is approx. 1650 gms.
Doesn't sound too bad, but to put that into some perspective, the weight of a Cherry Wood Wista DX 5x4 wooden field camera without lens is 1800 gms.
Bear in mind the Wista has a solid wood framework, bellows, ground glass, brass fittings, a sturdy base plate and is sized and designed for all the process of using 5x4" film . . . well, you get my drift.
The Mamiya pops all that weight into something not much fatter than a square box of crackers (OK, so Jacob's Cream Crackers did seem inordinately big back in the 1970's but then I was a lot smaller then, so go figure).
Pop the weight of the Mam onto a nasty little faux leather thin strap (like they used to have) and you have something that saws through your shoulder or neck at a rate of knots.
Fortunately these days, you have a better choice of strap - Optech Pro Straps come highly recommended for a start.
For me though, a C330 in whatever variation?
No weigh hosepipe.
But I was attracted to the range, in particular the standard lens; I'd used the 80mm for most of my college show and I knew it to be good. Very good actually and somewhat unsung in this day and age.
So, where from there?
Well there was only one way actually . . . down 110 - the C220 (1500 gms with lens - still no Rollei, but any difference is a difference).
So I came to a decision and sat and waited.
And waited some more.
And more.
And more.
And then, a nice late C220 (not F) turned up. I matched it with a late Sekor-S 80mm. These are "Blue Dot" lenses, but more "POST Blue Dot" meaning they're the last of the production run of Sekors for the TLRs. My thinking again was that a later (albeit late '80's/early '90's) shutter is a better prospect than a '60's or 70's.
I was excited as I always am when a new camera arrives.
This wasn't to be a steep learning curve though - I'd had one welded to me in the '80's and I knew what to expect.
And so he/she/it/they turned up. I fitted an old Nikon strap I had; settled myself into the heft of the thing; loaded a film; gaped in quiet amazement at how precise and quiet the ratchet advance on the 220 felt and donning my cape, off I went!
Sadly, this is where the whole story went shit-shaped.
I've included the 3 contact prints from the first 3 films below, and I'll sit at the back and wait for one of you to put your hands up and tell me what is wrong with them:
"What's that Smythe?
The PHOTOGRAPHS?
1500 lines on "The Importance Of Co-operation In Society, on my desk, Monday morning!"
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| Very Little In Focus |
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| Even Less In Focus |
OK - so after the first one I thought:
"What the feck is going on?!!"
and other, more colourful epithets.
Nothing I wanted to be in focus was in focus.
I loaded another roll of Foma, went to some effort, came home developed it and went:
"Cheese and fecking Crackers!!!!"
The blank frames you see are operator error, but despite extreme care and copious notes, nothing was right. Pretty much everything was not in focus.
So I had an examine and looked at the focus screen a number of times and then it dawned on me . . . it wasn't an original.
Certainly it was incredibly bright and the microprism in the centre was very useful, but by now I was thinking, it's probably an aftermarket Chinese job and must be off.
And this is where Google image search came in.
I typed in "Mamiya TLR Focus Screen" and got a lot of stuff coming up, which was all scrawled through until I came across something which looked about right.
Not only did it look right, it felt right, so I contacted the manufacturer.
Rick Oleson is a great bloke - I've read his camera repair notes on and off for years, and a few quick queries and attached photos confirmed that is was indeed one of his.
He was SO helpful, even down to sending me instructions for correctly fitting the screen.
You can find him here - tell him I sent you.
So, taking my guts between my teeth I set out to check things.
The first thing that came to light was a rattling sound when the bellows were extended.
Hmm, velly interesting, I thought as a small brass screw shot out of the lens 'ole.
Ahhh, turned out it was one of the screws for mounting the screen.
Whoever had fitted it had made a half-cocked effort.
With everything disassembled, I followed as best I could Rick's instructions, put it all back together again, checking lens focus on a ground glass taped over the film gate against what I saw on the screen. When I'd got it all Kuschty Rye, I breathed deeply, loaded yet another film and went out again.
Man was I peeved.
In frame 7 above - the poster was spot on (on the screen); in frame 9, the focal point was on the edge of the bricks on the left side of the frame. Stopping down significantly did yield a result that was enough in focus for me (frame 6) however you might see that the frame spacing had gone off.
So in a fit of pique, I phoned the vendor and they took it back.
I have to say they were utterly apologetic.
I was quite happy to wait as I actually enjoyed using the camera, so off it went for repair.
I told them about the screen, and, a month later they confirmed that yes, even with my tinkering, the screen was still a tad off, however (cue the fanfare) the taking lens and viewing lens did not match each other's focus points in the slightest.
I'd had a suspicion the lens had been dropped at some point, and indeed this would confirm that; in something like a TLR lens unit where each has to match each other completely, then any deviation was sure to make a monkey of you.
Optics, despite their robustness, can be severely affected by drop-damage - it is something to watch out for.
So that leaves me here.
The vendor says he's sourced me another lens and is waiting for it to be serviced and then the camera/lens combo will be checked for everything before sending it back to me.
Very good service indeed.
In the meantime here's a couple of large scans off of the contact print.
They're not proper prints but will suffice for the moment.
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| Sunny Morning Alien Invasion |
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| What A Load Or Rubbish |
And that's it folks - we're still here and breathing despite the best efforts of certain parts of the world, so, till the next time, take care, count to 10 and remember that someone has knotted your shoelaces together.
H xxx
