Reflected vinyl

Reflected vinyl
Minolta Hi-Matic 7
Kodak Tri-X 400
2018

I have been walking a lot more. It’s my favorite form of exercise. I dislike exercise for its own sake. But I like to work in the yard, and to walk, and to ride my bike; those things have their own rewards and exercise just happens when I do them.

My wife measured a two-mile path around our neighborhood, and it passes by a retention pond. It’s still most of the time, and it’s remarkable how well the houses along it reflect into it.

Get more of my photography in your inbox or reader! Click here to subscribe.

 

Advertisements
Film Photography

single frame: Reflected vinyl

.

Image
Collecting Cameras, Film Photography

Operation Thin the Herd: Minolta Hi-Matic 7

Fishers Construction

This Minolta Hi-Matic 7 was one of the first cameras I bought when I restarted my collection in 2006. I had decided to collect 35mm rangefinder cameras, and this was the first one I found at a price I was willing to pay. I happily kept buying rangefinders right up to the day someone gifted me a 35mm SLR. Right away, through-the-lens composing charmed me and my rangefinder predilection went right out the window. But I’ve kept this camera nevertheless.

Minolta Hi-Matic 7

I’ve shot it but twice before: once Sunny 16 without a battery, and once with a PX-625 battery inserted to take advantage of its onboard metering. That metering couldn’t be easier: twist the aperture and shutter-speed rings to A and the camera chooses both aperture and shutter speed for you. It does so on a linear scale from 1/30 sec. at f/1.8 to 1/250 sec. at f/22 — this camera biases toward the greatest depth of field possible. This was a mighty advanced system in 1963 when this camera was new. Here’s a photo from that latter session, on Fujicolor 200.

Bug light

I’d never shot black-and-white film in my Hi-Matic 7 so I loaded some Kodak Tri-X and headed out on a full-sun June day. Right away there was trouble in paradise. Inside the viewfinder a needle points at the exposure value (EV) the meter calculates, from 5.6 to 17. On that bright day I expected to see that needle point at EV 15 or maybe 16. Instead, the needle was in the red zone above EV 17, meaning it was underexposing by a stop or two. Drat! At least the meter functioned — they often don’t in cameras this old.

Reflected vinyl

What I didn’t do, but should have: set the camera to EI 200 or 100 to compensate for the underexposure. I don’t know why I always think of such things only when I sit down to write about my experience with a camera. Sigh. Fortunately, Tri-X’s incredible exposure latitude — up to 4 stops in either direction — mostly covered for me. Where it didn’t, a nip and a tuck in Photoshop usually did the trick.

Cars

Despite being large and heavy, the Hi-Matic 7 is pleasant to use. A lever on the focusing ring is well placed; my finger always found and moved it without me needing to move my eye from the viewfinder. The rangefinder patch is bright enough even for my middle-aged eyes (and was probably even brighter when it was new). I was able to move fast enough with it to capture my son playing a game at the dining table with the family.

Damion

The Hi-Matic 7 is a lot of camera to carry. Mine has its original leather “everready” case so I slung it over my shoulder, camera inside, as I carried it around. Or at least I did that until the leather shoulder strap broke.

At Rick's Cafe Boatyard on Eagle Creek

I finished the roll at Rick’s Cafe Boatyard, a seafood restaurant on Eagle Creek Reservoir in Indianapolis. It was the site of one of Margaret’s and my early dates, so we like to go back sometimes and reminisce.

At Rick's Cafe Boatyard on Eagle Creek

We always sit on the outdoor deck. Therefore, we only dine at Rick’s in the fair-weather months.

At Rick's Cafe Boatyard on Eagle Creek

One finds few opportunities to make dockside photos in landlocked central Indiana. The Hi-Matic 7 was up to the task. These photos needed little Photoshoppery to look good.

At Rick's Cafe Boatyard on Eagle Creek

See more photos from this camera in my Minolta Hi-Matic 7 gallery.

I had a hard time deciding whether this camera would stay or go. I’m emotionally attached to it as one of the first cameras in my collection, I enjoy using it, and I love the images it returns. But I can’t escape the fact that I’ve put only three rolls of film through it in 12 years. I’m unlikely to use it more than that in the next 12. As I shrink my collection to just the cameras I’ll actually use, I have to let pragmatism win over sentimentality.

Verdict: Goodbye

Get more of my photography in your inbox or reader! Click here to subscribe.
Standard
Film Photography

Operation Thin the Herd: Progress report

What’s been remarkable about Operation Thin the Herd is the clarity it’s bringing me about what I want my photographic future to be.

That future is SLRs from Pentax and Nikon. They strike that right balance among image quality, usability, and reliability. Also, SLR shooting just suits me.

Canons are usable and mostly reliable, but the images I get from them seldom wow me even though they are technically very good. Minoltas deliver wonderful images and feel great in my hands but I’ve had too much trouble keeping them working. The few SLRs I own from other manufacturers are all fine in their ways, but I know I won’t use them enough to justify keeping them.

Argus A-FourI’m going to keep a couple medium-format cameras, too, especially one of my Yashica TLRs. Good gracious, but do I love those things. I will also keep a handful of other cameras that I enjoy or that have sentimental value. I’ve already committed to keeping my Olympus XA, for example — it’s a stunning performer and slides right into a side pocket. I’m sure to keep one of my big fixed-lens rangefinders, too; maybe my Yashica Lynx 14e if I can get its meter calbrated. Even though I haven’t shot it yet as part of this project, I’m betting I’ll keep my Argus A-Four, too. Its lens does lovely black-and-white work, and I have a wonderful memory from my high-school days of shooting a roll of Plus-X in one of these and then processing it in the school’s darkroom with a buddy.

I don’t know how far I am through this project but it doesn’t feel like I’ve hit the halfway point yet. Fatigue is starting to set in — I want to just get on with shooting my forever cameras. As a result, I am now more likely to say goodbye to a camera when I do shoot one — or even to sell one on without shooting it again.

Standard
Collecting Cameras, Film Photography

Operation Thin the Herd: Rollei A110

Sunburst

So much about this tiny camera is compelling, first and foremost that it is, as I said, tiny. Super tiny. It’s barely larger than two stacked rolls of 110 film which, not coincidentally, is the kind of film it takes. It feels like a single, solid piece of metal with a silken finish. You feel like CIA or MI5 as you expand the body to reveal the viewfinder, touch the shutter button to make a photo, hear the shutter’s seductive “snick” sound, and compress the body again to wind to the next frame.

Rollei A110Rollei A110

The Rollei A110 packs a Tessar lens, 23mm at f/2.8, to wring every possible bit of performance out of the wee 13x17mm frame 110 film offers. Check out the sharpness and resolution this lens delivered on expired Fuji Superia 200 film the last time I shot my A110. If it weren’t for the odd aspect ratio of 110 film images, you might believe me if I told you I took this with one of my 35mm SLRs.

West Park Christian Church

For this outing with the A110 I bought some fresh Lomography Color Tiger film. I tip my hat to the Lomography people for keeping this old format alive. I shake my fist at the Lomography people, however, for a fault in the backing paper that allows light to leak onto the film. It appears as red splotches on images, as below. I should have covered the film-counter window with electrical tape. I hope they correct the problem as they manufacture the next batch.

Home

My A110 isn’t perfect. It has a few minor nicks in the paint. The winding mechanism moves a little roughly — I’ll bet it was buttery smooth when new.

Park road

Also, its lens cover is loose. It’s supposed to slide out of the way when you open the camera and cover the lens when you close the camera. On mine, before I make a photo I have to tilt the camera to move the cover out of the way. I usually forgot to do this and got eight black photographs for my error.

Orange

Finally, even at moderate distances parallax is a problem. Standing 15 feet or so back from this entryway I centered the scene in the frame. This is what the camera saw.

Orange entrance

But none of this is so bad as to make my A110 a pain to use. It was easy as a breeze to carry in my pocket as my wife and I took a long hike through Eagle Creek Park in Indianapolis.

Eagle Creek Reservoir

That Tessar lens is pretty sharp, as the carvings in to that tree trunk show nicely.

Carved

To see more photos from this camera, check out my Rollei A110 gallery.

Despite this camera’s charms, as I worked my way through this 24-exposure film cartridge I soon wished it would be over with already. I didn’t hate using the A110, but I didn’t find joy in it either. It was a novelty, and the novelty soon wore off.

Verdict: Goodbye

Get more of my photography in your inbox or reader! Click here to subscribe.
Standard

Prince Albert in a can

Prince Albert in a can
Yashica Lynx 14e
Kodak T-Max 400
2014

Fellow camera-collecting blogger Peggy Anne reviewed her Yashica Lynx 14 recently, and it led me to look back at my photos from my nearly identical Lynx 14e.

This camera’s lens is simply incredible. Just look at that sharpness and clarity! And this is with the lens either nearly or fully wide open, thanks the the dim antique-store light.

When I restarted my collection in 2006 I intended to collect fixed-lens rangefinders. I had bought eight or ten of them when someone gave me an SLR they no longer wanted. The SLR bug bit me hard and that was pretty much that for my rangefinder obsession.

As I shrink my collection through Operation Thin the Herd I will to keep just one or two rangefinders — ones I will use and love. If I had to guess right now, I think I’ll wind up with my Canonet QL17 G-III and my Lynx 14e.

Not that either camera is in fully working order. The Canonet has always needed new light seals. The Lynx 14e’s meter is off by a stop. But for cameras I’m going to keep, I’m willing to invest in repairs.

If you’d like to get more of my photography in your inbox or reader, click here to subscribe.

 

Film Photography

single frame: Prince Albert in a can

.

Image

Mormon temple

Mormon temple
Pentax ME, 50mm f/1.7 SMC Pentax-M
Kodak Max 400 (x-10/2007)
2018

The Mormons’ Indianapolis temple isn’t actually in Indianapolis. It’s in Carmel, a city that borders Indianapolis to the north.

But I gather that this building is drop-dead gorgeous inside. After it was completed a few years ago, they offered tours to the public. My parents went, and my mom gushed for days about the quality of the materials and the attention to details. I wished I had made time to take a tour.

Because after the tours completed, non-Mormons were forever blocked from entering.

If you’d like to get more of my photography in your inbox or reader, click here to subscribe.

 

Film Photography

single frame: Mormon temple

.

Image