Start 35 K-II Camera

My Start 35 K-II camera with hood and complete box

I can remember when I purchased the Start 35 K-II camera because it was part of a fairly modest camera lot. There were several miniature and subminiature cameras in the group. All of the cameras came with fitted cases, and some even included their original boxes, which I think adds to a camera’s collectability.

 There were other examples of the Start series at camera shows, online, and in books, and I have always enjoyed the chrome and black Bakelite construction of the camera. To me, it has a modernist, almost space-age look. I suppose that was the style they were aiming for, especially for a camera built in the early 1950s.

 When I unpacked the camera lot, I found a few extra items in the box that I wasn’t expecting. While the Start 35 K-II camera itself does not have a fitted case, it did include the “Start” plastic lens hood, along with an aluminum item that appears to be some sort of stand or screw-in accessory used to hold a case onto a camera. The aluminum “stand” is much larger than a typical case-holding screw, so my guess is that it was probably used as a display stand in someone’s collection, since it seems too large to be anything else.

Start 35 K-II camera on stand. I still chuckle at “with Food” on the box.

 Another interesting detail about this camera still makes me smile whenever I see it: the box. The box itself is in wonderful condition, but just below the attractive graphics and the camera’s name, it says “with Food.” I have no idea what that means, or why it would appear on the box of a camera.

 The only explanation I can think of is that it was lost in translation. Perhaps the camera came with rolls of film, or a single roll of film, and the wording “with Food” was meant to indicate that the camera came with something it would consume. Other than that, I really do not know why that phrase appears on the box.

 The Start 35 K-II uses Bolta film, which during this period was a paper-backed 35mm film sold in short rolls and generally less expensive than standard 35mm film. Some cameras used special cassettes for Bolta film, but many Japanese cameras that used Bolta film relied on a special spool with a larger receptacle that fit into the camera, similar in concept to other roll-film systems such as 127 and 828.

History

Ikko Sha Co. Ltd. was a small Japanese camera maker active in the early postwar years, best remembered today for its Start 35 family of compact viewfinder cameras. While it never became a major household name like Canon or Nikon, the company is a good example of the many modest Japanese firms that helped shape the country’s camera boom after World War II.

 The Start 35 line appears to have begun around 1950, when Ikko Sha introduced a Bakelite 35mm camera designed for 24x24mm exposures on Bolta film rolls. That was followed by the Start 35 K in 1952, which added a hinged back door, and later by the Start 35 K-II around 1958, which brought flash synchronization, a metal top plate, a 24x36mm exposure area, and lens-surround caps. These incremental changes suggest a company refining a simple, practical product rather than chasing a wide model range.

Front view of Start 35 K-II camera with embossed lens cap

 Ikko Sha’s place in camera history comes as much from context as from production volume. Postwar Japan produced dozens of small camera firms, many of them serving the growing demand for inexpensive 35mm cameras at home and abroad. Ikko Sha belonged to that energetic ecosystem, where innovation often came through compact designs, clever packaging, and steady model revisions rather than large-scale manufacturing power.

 For collectors, Ikko Sha cameras are appealing because they are uncommon and clearly rooted in a transitional moment in photographic history. The Start 35 series shows how Japanese manufacturers experimented with materials, formats, and user features before the industry consolidated around stronger global brands. A camera like the Start 35 K-II may be modest, but it captures the ingenuity of an era when even small firms could leave a lasting mark on the collecting world.

 Today, surviving Ikko Sha cameras are mostly encountered in collections, auctions, and enthusiast write-ups rather than in mainstream histories. That scarcity only adds to their charm, especially for collectors who enjoy tracing the overlooked branches of Japanese camera development.

My Camera

My Start 35 K-II camera measures 4 inches wide by 2.25 inches tall and 2.5 inches deep, not including the attached lens hood. The camera weighs 6.6 ounces without film loaded. It is made of black Bakelite with an aluminum top covering the viewfinder, and the metal also wraps around the lens with five slots on either side, giving the camera a modernist look.

On the left side of the camera is a nylon wrist strap attached next to the film winding knob. Also attached to the strap is a metal chain with a metal lens cap embossed with a stylized “START” logo. On the bottom of the camera is a tripod socket, along with “Made in Japan” embossed into the Bakelite.

 The camera is very basic when it comes to controls. The shutter release is on the top right of the camera, located on the extending lens portion, and on the opposite side is the shutter control switch. You have the option of either “I” for instant or “B” for timed exposures.

The lens is fixed and cannot be focused. Under the lens, on the left side, are two aperture settings, “W” and “S.” “W” is wider open, and switching to the “S” setting selects a smaller aperture. On the left side of the camera is a PC socket for flash. Since there is no accessory shoe, you need to use a bracket if you want to use flash with the Start 35 K-II.

 To open the camera for loading film, there is a simple latch on the left side that opens the back and exposes the film chamber. On the right side, you place a fresh roll of Bolta film, bring the leader across to the left, and thread it into the take-up spool. Start winding to make sure the film is seated properly, then close the back and advance the film until you see the number 1 in the window on the back of the camera.

 My Results

Since I do not have Bolta film, I used some bulk 35mm film and leftover paper backing from 127 film, which I cut down to fit the Bolta reels I have.

 Taping a short roll of 35mm film onto the paper backing in total darkness was not the easiest task, but it was manageable if most of the prep work was done ahead of time and the process was carefully thought through before turning off the light.

 I also loaded the film into the camera in the dark to make sure I had not made any mistakes when attaching the paper backing to the 35mm film. I knew the numbers on the backing paper would not line up exactly, so I simply guessed how many turns to advance the film.

 With film in the camera, I took it to a local waterfall and walked through the neighborhood to make a few photographs.

 Here are the results from the Start 35 K-II camera:

Conclusion:

While the images from the Start 35 K-II were sharper than I expected, something must have gone wrong in processing, or perhaps light leaked through the paper backing, because there are some strange light streaks on many of the images. My guess is that it was operator error, most likely related to the paper-backing process.

 The next time I review a Bolta film camera, I will try to do a better job with the paper-backing method. Overall, though, the camera is pretty nice, easy to use, and produces some nice images for a camera that is close to 70 years old.

 Thank you for taking the time to learn about this unusual Bolta film camera made in the late 1950s.

 Here are some of my other Camera Reviews.

 Check out my YouTube channel, where I am putting together video overviews of the cameras I write about. Be sure to subscribe and like the channel, too.

 Cuny’s Cameras and Photos is my online eBay store, where you will find some of the cameras I have reviewed, along with a wide range of other cameras, lenses, and items from my collection that I am thinning out.

 Until next week, please be safe.

 

Sakura Bakelite camera

The 1930s Sakura Bakelite: A pocket-sized piece of Japanese history with a surprisingly modern 'X' design.

Looking through my camera collection, I wanted to find something more unusual to write about this week. When I picked up the Sakura camera in its case, I didn't think much about it until I opened the camera's case and saw the writing inside. 

 The writing said, "K. Kitayama" along the bottom, and "kin" on the right and kizyun" on the left, so my immediate thought was to try and do some research to see if I could find the ancestors of the camera, or possibly even the owner of the camera. 

 Since the camera was released in Japan in 1937, I imagined the original owner might still be alive, but the chances are slim. Also, since the lettering was in English and not Japanese, the camera was brought to the US by the owner, but when? 

 Looking more closely at the case, there is a red stamp on the inside top. It appears to be in Japanese, but it's pretty faded; there's also a number "74" that is pretty visible in the lower right corner. So, did the camera enter the US in 1974 when the owner brought it here from Japan, and was it stamped by customs or the Japanese government before leaving?

 Also, when I took the camera out of the case to inspect it for this week's blog, on the back wall of the case is a signature written in ink that appears to be a name starting with K. and Kizyun? I tried many different Google searches for different spellings. While I find these things fascinating, my chances of finding the original owner, or possibly some family members, are very slim. Still, my passion for finding the original owner remains. 

Have you ever found a piece of gear with a name inscribed on it? I'd love to hear your detective stories in the comments.

 Now that I've spent way too many hours going down the rabbit hole trying to find out who the camera belonged to, let me tell you more about the camera itself.

My Sakura Bakelite camera

 The Sakura (Bakelite) camera is an odd, oval-shaped model made by Konishiroku in the late 1930s. Konishiroku was the original company that became Konica. While the Sakura camera is a very basic model that I'll describe below, I understand it's rather rare.

 Sakura, meaning "Cherry" in Japanese, was a short-lived brand produced by Konishiroku during the 1930s. Their most popular items were a series of 3 different, beautifully colored, Sakura Box cameras. One of the cameras used 127-sized film for its 4x6.5cm format. In contrast, their larger cameras were 4.6x6cm or 6x9cm format cameras on 120 film. These cameras are also very collectible and rare items.

 

Konishiroku Before World War II:


The story of Konishiroku (the predecessor to Konica) is essentially the birth of the Japanese photographic industry. Long before it became a global imaging giant, the company began in 1873 when Rokusaburo Sugiura began selling photographic and lithographic materials at Konishiya Rokuemon, a traditional pharmacy in Tokyo.

Ad for Sakura camera from Camera-Wiki

 By 1876, Sugiura moved the photographic department to a dedicated shop called Konishi Honten. This move was visionary; at the time, photography was a fledgling Western import, yet Sugiura foresaw its cultural and commercial potential in Meiji-era Japan.

 In the late 19th century, Japan relied almost entirely on imported cameras and chemicals from Europe and America. Konishi Honten sought to change this. In 1902, the company established the Rokuoh-sha factory in Tokyo, marking a pivotal shift from a mere retailer to a pioneer manufacturer.

Just one year later, in 1903, they released the Cherry Portable Camera. This was Japan's first brand-name camera, a simple box-type unit that democratized photography for the Japanese public, much like the Kodak Brownie did in the West.

 Throughout the 1920s and 1930s, the company refined its engineering to compete with high-end German imports. Several key milestones defined this pre-war era:

 

  • The Pearlette (1925): Based on the Vest Pocket Kodak, this folding camera became an icon in Japan, remaining in production in various forms for decades.

  • The Lily and Idea series: These cameras showed Konishiroku's ability to produce sophisticated folding and plate cameras that appealed to serious amateurs and professionals.

  • Establishment of the "Konishiroku" name: In 1921, the company reorganized as a partnership, and by 1936, it was incorporated as Konishiroku Honten Co., Ltd.

 By the mid-1930s, Konishiroku was not just making camera bodies; it was a master of the entire "imaging chain." They produced Sakura brand cameras, film, and photographic paper. In 1935, they began developing their own high-quality lenses under the Hexar name.

 As the 1930s drew to a close, the Japanese government began consolidating the industry for the war effort. Konishiroku's precision manufacturing was increasingly diverted toward military optics, such as aerial cameras and rangefinders. However, the foundation they built—combining retail savvy with deep technical manufacturing—ensured that when the "Konica" brand eventually debuted in the post-war era, it was backed by over 70 years of institutional expertise.

My Camera:

 My Sakura Bakelite camera is an odd, oval-shaped camera with a pull-out front lens used for taking photos, and it retracts when it's in its case for transport. It's only 3.75" wide by 2.75" tall, including the film winding knob, and 2" deep with the lens retracted or 3" with the lens extended. It only weighs 6.1 ounces without film in the camera.

The camera is a rich, dark brown Bakelite with slight mottling and a grainy finish, giving it a nice texture. SAKURA is molded in Bakelite at the top of the pull-out lens area. There is a smooth "X" shape on the faceplate as well, with the lens centered at the "X"'s intersection. 

X design and controls on the face of the Sakura camera

The Sakura camera is extremely basic. Its fixed-focus Rokuoh-Sha Tokyo lens and lack of adjustable apertures make it simple to use, making it ideal for casual photography or quick snapshots. The shutter settings are either "I" for instant or "B" for bulb, used for timed exposures. The shutter is set by a chrome arrow pointing to the desired setting. The shutter release is just below the shutter setting. It is a longer, curved lever, emphasizing its straightforward design for beginners or vintage enthusiasts interested in minimalistic cameras.

On top of the Sakura camera is a chrome pull-up viewfinder in the front, along with a pop-up pointer in the rear, which you use to center your subject before taking the photo. Also, at the top of the camera is the film winding knob, which has an unusual numbering system. The idea is that you start at number 1, then turn the nob to number 2, which is the proper amount of length to get the film to the next frame. I didn't use this method, but used the red window on the back of the camera to find the frame numbers. The red window also features a sliding chrome cover that opens or closes as needed.

At the bottom of the camera is a tripod socket for timed exposures. However, there is no cable release socket, as is generally used for this. Also at the bottom is a lever that locks or unlocks the film chamber, allowing it to be removed from the camera for loading or unloading film. Once the chamber is unlocked, the film chamber lifts up from the top of the camera, but this can only be done when the lens is extended; otherwise, the lens blocks the chamber in the camera body. Once the lens is extended, the film chamber extends from the top of the camera, and you can load film to take photos. Once loaded, slide the film chamber back into the camera body, lock it into place, set the frame counter to 1, and you're ready to snap some photos.

My Results:

 I took two rolls of film with the Sakura camera because the first roll turned out so poorly. It didn't dawn on me that a couple of things happened when shooting the first roll. The first thing I noticed was that I forgot to pull the lens out of the camera body while shooting, but only for the first 1-2 photos, which resulted in some pretty unusual, very out-of-focus images. 

 The second thing that happened was when I was shooting the first roll, I was pulling the shutter speed lever in place of the shutter release, then when I found the shutter release, the shutter speed was set to "B", so all of these images were blurry from motion, as well as overexposed.

 So I loaded a second roll after seeing the disaster from my first roll, and #1 made sure the lens was extended, and #2, I put my finger on the shutter release lever before framing the photo so I wouldn't accidentally pull the shutter settings from "I" to "B". The second roll turned out much better than the first, and while I'm embarrassed by the first, I needed to share my experience with the camera.

 Once I figured out the mistakes, the images actually turned out very nicely.

Conclusion:

 The Sakura was fun to shoot with, but the frustration of the first roll must have befuddled the original users, too. Putting the shutter control on the top of the shutter release made for an interesting, but frustrating, experience. If the company had switched the shutter release with the shutter controller, the experience could have been better. At least switching the "B" and "I" settings would have been helpful.

 Still, I enjoyed using the Sakura bakelite camera. There's still something gnawing at me: who and where, and the story behind this little, oddly shaped Bakelite camera that's approaching 90 years old.

Quick question: Have you ever found a piece of gear with a name inscribed on it? I'd love to hear your detective stories in the comments.

 Thank you for learning about this wonderful and rare Japanese camera, made just before World War II.

 Here is a list of my other CAMERA REVIEWS, with links.

 Cuny's Cameras & Photos is my online eBay store where I sell many of the cameras I've reviewed, along with other photos and camera accessories.

 Until next week, please be safe.