ICAF Roby Camera

My ICAF Roby camera

I bought the Roby camera a few weeks ago at an online auction, bundled with several other items. It caught my eye because it reminded me of the Ferrania small box camera I have on my shelf. Both cameras share a rounded front lens area and a sleek finish. I saw it as a good complement to the Ferrania, and based on the auction photos, I believed it was made by Ferrania when I placed my bid.

 The auction "lot" included a hodgepodge of gear—a large bag, old movie lights, a slide projector, and more—but I was only interested in the Roby. When I received the shipping bill from the auction house, I was floored by the price. I hadn't told them I only wanted that one item.

I called them immediately to let them know they could donate, keep, or toss the rest of the lot, as those items had no value to me (and probably not to many others, either). That brought the shipping down to a very reasonable price that I was happy to pay.

My Ferrania & Roby camera

 Once the camera arrived, I was surprised to find out it wasn't made by Ferrania at all. A different Italian company, ICAF (Industria Costruzione Apparecchi Fotografici), built it. ICAF later became Bencini, a popular manufacturer responsible for the Bencini Koroll (which I've previously written about). They also produced a camera I've been hunting for and am itching to review: the Bencini Comet III.

 The Roby is bigger than I anticipated, but on the bright side, it takes 120 film and shoots 6x9cm (2 1/4 x 3 1/4) format images. I originally assumed it would be closer in size to the Ferrania Filma, which is a more compact 127 format camera. I also thought I had already written about the Filma! Looking back, I haven't, so I'll review that one soon.

 This article won't be as long as some of my others for two reasons. First, the camera is extremely simple and has few settings. Second, my wife and I are currently on an extended road trip visiting relatives and friends. I won't have much downtime to write, so I apologize in advance if I miss a week or two of camera reviews.

History

The story of ICAF and Bencini cameras is a fascinating chapter in Italian photographic history, charting an evolution from simple box cameras to uniquely stylized, rigid-bodied metal shooters.

Antonio Bencini's photographic journey began during World War I. Trained as an aeronautical engineer, he was tasked with maintaining and repairing French-made aerial reconnaissance cameras for the Italian military. After the war, he jump-started Italy's domestic camera industry by founding FIAMMA in 1920 and later founded a second company, Filma. After selling both ventures to Ferrania, Bencini relocated to Milan and established ICAF (Industria Costruzione Apparecchi Fotografici) in 1937.

 ICAF's initial offerings were straightforward box cameras like the Roby and Gabry, named after Bencini's children. To comply with nationalist language policies, the company quickly changed the names to Robi and Gabri. Shortly before World War II, the company was renamed CMF. Camera production paused during the conflict as the factory pivoted to manufacturing aircraft and bicycle components.

ICAF Strap

 Emerging in 1946 as CMF Bencini, the company began defining its signature aesthetic. Moving away from the era's fragile cloth bellows, Bencini transitioned to durable sliding-tube mechanisms and rigid die-cast aluminum bodies. This shift produced cameras that were rugged, affordable, and distinctly Italian.

 The real breakthrough came in 1948 with the introduction of the Comet series. Designed for 127 film, these cameras were massive commercial successes. By 1953, the company shortened its name to simply Bencini and released the Comet III. With its striking vertical orientation, oversized winding knob, and art-deco flourishes, the Comet III remains a highly recognizable example of mid-century industrial design. Alongside the Comet was the popular Koroll line, which utilized 120 film for larger formats. These models were known for their reliability and straightforward functionality, cementing Bencini's reputation among amateur photographers.

 During the 1960s, Bencini tried to adapt to consumer preferences by producing 126 cartridge cameras, many of which were rebranded and sold by the British drugstore Boots. In the 1970s, the company ventured into the 110 pocket format and released 35mm plastic cameras, still bearing the iconic Comet name.

 While Bencini ultimately struggled to compete with advanced Japanese SLRs and closed its doors in the 1980s, its legacy endures. Today, these early aluminum-cast cameras are appreciated as tangible, mechanical pieces of Italian photographic history.

My Camera

My ICAF Roby is approximately (I forgot to measure it before leaving!) 3 inches tall, 3.5 inches deep (due to the protruding lens area), and 2.5 inches wide, weighing about 10 ounces. The finish is a bit rough, with some chipped paint, as you can see in the photos, but it has a working shutter. The lens is a 105mm f/11, which is indicated directly around the glass.

When I first inspected the camera, I wondered about the mechanism next to the viewfinder (positioned above the lens). I pushed it to one side, and the viewfinder flipped sideways, allowing you to frame horizontal images. The waist-level finder is surprisingly clean and bright, making subject framing a breeze.

The shutter release is located on the left side of the lens at the seven o'clock position. Right beneath it is a switch for exposure modes: down for "instant" and up for timed exposures. According to my trusty shutter tester, the "instant" setting fires at approximately 1/100th of a second. There are no aperture controls, so the lens is fixed at f/11.

 A switch on the left side of the camera opens the body for loading. The entire side panel comes off, along with the film insert. Load the film as you would with any roll film camera, slide the insert back into the body, and lock the door to prevent accidental exposure. Wind the film to frame number one, and you're ready to shoot.

I had some old, expired Plus-X film in my drawer that I decided to try out. The lens was clean, and the film wound easily. It wasn't until I processed the negatives that I realized how underexposed the images were—likely due to the film's age. Nonetheless, the results have a particular contrast and softness that reminds me of early Edward Steichen photographs or the work of Anne Brigman. Take a look at the images below.

Results

Here are some of the results from the Roby using 50-year-old expired Plus-X film. The shots were massively underexposed, and I had to do quite a bit of work on them in post—especially since I didn't have time to shoot another roll before hitting the road.

 I'll shoot another roll when I get back and update this post with properly exposed images. My apologies for the initial results; I know the camera will perform much better with fresh film.

Conclusion:

This camera is a nice addition to the collection; it was fun to shoot with, and it fits right in next to my Ferrania box. I'm considering removing the front lens area to sand off some of the rust and repaint it for a refreshed look. It may not improve the camera's function, but it will look better on the shelf.

 Thank you for taking the time to read about the ICAF Roby from my collection.

Are you interested in other vintage gear? Here are some of my other Camera Reviews.

Check out my Cuny's Camera Collection YouTube channel, where I'm putting together video overviews of the cameras I write about. Be sure to like and subscribe!

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

Until next week, please be safe.

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.