Dual Reflex Camera

My Dual Reflex camera.

This week's camera is very low-tech and a follow-up to a series of cameras I discussed in a past article on the Lark and Kandor "Sardine Can" cameras two years ago. 

 I found this camera in a display, hidden behind other cameras, at a local camera store many months ago. I recognized the camera from a previous article, and it was a different style of camera from before. This was a "twin lens" style camera, but made by the same company, Irwin Corp of New York. 

 As I was discussing the camera with a store staff member, they said it was for "display only" and not for sale because it wasn't working. I told the salesperson that I had written an article on this camera style and wasn't worried about whether it worked, but just wanted it for my collection.

 I enquired further about the camera, the salesperson said they needed to ask the owner whether he would sell it. I encouraged the salesperson to inquire. Upon their return, they said the owner would indeed sell the camera and gave me a reasonable price to purchase it,  especially since the camera was in rough condition and I was told the shutter was not working. The shutter wasn't dead. It did open and close, but it was extremely sluggish.

 All of the leather was also on the camera, though it was coming up at the edges due to shrinkage and having been dried out for many years. The fact that the leather was still there was another good reason to purchase the camera, as I could recondition the leather and tack it back into place, giving the camera the care it deserved.

 As I paid for the Dual Reflex camera along with some discounted, recently discontinued film, I left the store with a new acquisition, knowing I'd fix it up and write an article about it at some point.

 Looking over the shelf to do this week's article, I saw the Dual Flex, and figured since I did an article on the Konica Pearl last week, which has an integrated rangefinder in a folding 645 format. Let's lean the other way this week and do a lower-end, Lomography-type camera from the early 1950s.

 One thing I needed to do before writing about the Dual Flex was to fix the shutter and clean the camera as best as I could. The repair was extremely simple, as the entire shutter assembly was held to the camera by two screws, one on top and one on the bottom. Then, to get to the shutter itself, two other screws on either side of the lens held the cover on. 

 Once the cover was off, the entire assembly consisted of a simple spring-loaded box-camera-style shutter that needed general cleaning and lubrication. There is also a lever that changes the aperture setting, which already moved smoothly, so I didn't do anything with that. 

 While the shutter was out, I cleaned the inside of the lens and reassembled it, making sure it was functioning as it should. With a "snappy" shutter in working condition, I screwed the cover back into place and mounted the shutter back onto the camera. Double-checking that the shutter seemed to be working after reassembly, I was now ready to write the article.

History:

 Irwin Corporation of New York occupies a curious and appealing corner of toy and camera history. Best remembered by collectors for its inexpensive metal cameras and low-cost toys, the company seems to have specialized in simple, playful, and affordable products. One surviving description notes that Irwin began by manufacturing 127 roll-film metal cameras resembling sardine tins, priced at just $2.98, which immediately places the firm in the world of budget photography novelties rather than serious camera manufacturing.

1948 advertising for Irwin Corp.

 That detail helps explain why Irwin still draws attention from vintage camera collectors today. These were not precision instruments meant to compete with the major camera brands. Instead, they were novelty cameras designed to be accessible, fun, and inexpensive enough to appeal to casual buyers. In that sense, Irwin's cameras belonged to the same broader culture as dime-store toys and impulse purchases: small objects that offered a quick thrill and a modest introduction to photography.

 Irwin also appears to have expanded its production to include toys, especially metal toys and, later, plastic items. Collector references suggest that the company produced cars, trucks, and other small playthings and continued to produce toys well into the 1950s and 1960s. By the mid-1950s, the company was said to have plants in Fitchburg and Leominster, Massachusetts, and Nashua, New Hampshire, indicating that it had expanded beyond a single New York address.

 The surviving record also suggests a company that adapted with the times. A 1964 dealer catalog reportedly included toy cars for Ken and Barbie, along with plastic GI Joe vehicles, which shows how Irwin followed the changing market for licensed and character-based toys. That flexibility likely helped the firm remain relevant in a crowded and fast-changing industry.

 Today, Irwin Corporation is remembered less as a major manufacturer than as a fascinating specialty producer whose history bridges toy collecting and camera collecting. Its sardine-tin cameras and inexpensive metal toys make it a small but memorable part of American mid-century design.

My Camera:

 My Dual Reflex camera is 3" wide by 3" deep and 5.25" tall when the viewfinder is closed, and 6.5" tall when the viewfinder is extended and opened for viewing. The camera weighs 14.8 ounces without a roll of 127 film loaded.

As previously mentioned, the camera has a very simple, spring-loaded shutter with only one speed, which I'm guessing is around 1/100. That may be too generous and could be even slower; that's my guess. The shutter control has only two options—either Instant for standard snapshots or Time for longer exposures. A switch on the side of the camera controls this. Since the shutter is so simple, the "time" setting blocks the shutter from moving into the "open" position until you release the lever; then the shutter closes.

 The shutter release is located at the 11:00 position on the lens cover and is nothing more than a lever that activates the shutter's spring mechanism.

 As you look at the camera from the front, the aperture controls are just to the left of the lens. They are controlled by a lever that moves a group of openings on a metal sheet back and forth across the lens opening. The aperture settings are F/7.7 (maximum), F/11, F/16, and F/22. There is no focus control on the lens, as it's set to the standard 8 to 10 feet, and the camera's aperture controls the sharpness.

o pop up the viewfinder, lift the rear of the finder, and the viewfinder or light chimney pops open, exposing the ground glass. Since there is no focus control on this camera, the viewfinder is used only to compose the image.

 An interesting option on the Dual Reflex camera is the ability to use a pseudo-eye-level finder for composing photos. On the back of the light chimney is an optical finder that, when viewed through, looks into another optical opening on the front of the chimney, allowing the photographer to use it as an eye-level finder rather than a waist-level one. For an inexpensive camera, this is a nice feature and actually works well.

To close the viewfinder, close the back compartment first since it has the optical glass, then the sides, and the front last. If you try to do it the conventional way and do the sides first, the front won't close because the glass is pressing up against the side wall, leaving the front no room to close.

 To take the back off to load film into the camera. On the back, the top is a large knob that must be unscrewed to remove the back. Once removed, you'll load the 127-size film, similar to any other roll-film camera. Put the fresh, unexposed film in the bottom area and the take-up spool on the top, right-hand side of the camera, where the winding lever is located. Bring the leader to the take-up spool, thread it into the slot, and wind until you see "start" on the paper backing. Close the back of the camera and screw it on tightly. 

 Since this is a 3x4cm format frame and the camera has two red windows, you'll wind until you see the number 1 in the first window. Take your photo, then wind until you see the number 1 in the second window, and take your photo. Follow this process through the number 8, meaning you've taken 16 images on the roll of film. Take the film out and process it.

The only 127 film I currently have is a few rolls of Jessop black-and-white film I purchased at the Tokyo City Flea Market a few months ago. The expiration date on the film is 11/1999. I hope it's still usable. 

 Now that I have the shutter fixed, lenses cleaned, and film loaded in the camera. It's Time to walk the neighborhood, taking photos to see how the Dual Reflex will perform.

 My Results:

 As I walked through the neighborhood, I tried using both the eye-level and waist-level finders to see which I preferred. They both were easy to use, so here are the results from my walk.

Conclusion:

 Well, some of the images turned out better than expected, and others didn't turn out the way I expected. There is a lot of debris on the negatives, which I'm guessing is due to the film's age.

 The film is rated at 200 ISO, and with its age, I wasn't really sure about the exposure, so I tried to take a couple of shots of the same subject at different aperture settings. I'm not sure why it happened, but there is tremendous bleed-through from the paper backing onto the film, creating issues with the images.

 After I processed the film, I took a closer look at the red windows on the back of the camera, which I believe caused the bleed-through from the paper backing. Yes, one of the red windows appeared to be OK, but upon closer inspection, it was pushed in, letting white light in. I found the culprit behind the bleed-through issues with the film.

 The camera handled well, the viewfinder was somewhat bright, and I enjoyed using the eye-level finder for composing the photo. The image sharpness is what I expected, especially for a very low-cost camera made around 75 years ago. 

 Thank you for taking Time from your day to read about this Lo-Fi camera made in the early 1950s by a company that not only made metal toys but also a line of cameras, mainly known for the "Sardine Can" cameras.

 Here are my other Camera Reviews.

 Cuny's Camera and Photos is my online eBay store where you can find some of the previously reviewed cameras for sale, along with other cameras, lenses, and photo oddities I've accumulated over the past 50 years of collecting.

 Until next week, please be safe.

Ebner camera

My Ebner 6x4.5cm camera

During my trip to Tokyo, Japan, a couple of weeks ago, I was in Kitamura's flagship store, looking at their "bargain" cameras, which in itself is a treasure trove of used cameras, when I spotted a brown Bakelite camera sitting on one of their shelves. The camera was a "folding" style camera. Still, I had never seen a camera like it, so immediately I wanted to see it, and with any luck, take it home with me, provided the price wasn't outrageous. I scanned the camera price and converted it from Yen to US dollars; it wasn't outrageous, so I wanted to see it and learn more.

 The things that caught my eye at first was the beautiful, rich brown color, the wonderful pebbled texture of the body, and the very sleek design. To me, the camera just sang to me in its design. Since my eyes almost always go to anything "colored" when I look at cameras, it reminded me of the Coronet Vogue. Then, scanning the shelf below, they also found the Coronet Vogue. which I had seen in a few different flea markets in both Paris and London, but the asking price was always too high (in my opinion) for the camera, so I passed them up.

Back side with beautiful pebble finish on the Ebner camera

 At this point in my camera search, there were 3-4 cameras I wanted to look at, so I went up to one of the salespeople on the floor and showed them the items I was interested in. Very patiently, he pulled the 4 items from the shelves and placed them on a camera mat on one of the glass display cases in the shop.

 Opening the Ebner camera first, I hadn't seen it before and don't recall it in McKeown's Camera Guide. I don't have the few hundred thousand cameras memorized. It wasn't until I opened the back of the camera and noticed the name "Ebner" that I realized the camera's brand. It still hadn't jogged my memory or sounded familiar.

Similarities of the Ebner and Coronet Vogue cameras.

 As I looked over the camera, the shutter worked, the aperture slid around the lens and changed size, and the lens was fairly clean. It didn't have mold, mildew, or fungus as I shone a penlight through the lens, and I didn't see pinholes in the bellows, so all in all, the camera was a "keeper" to me.

 The Coronet Vogue camera had some issues. It had a replacement black bellows rather than the original brown matching bellows, and the side struts of the camera didn't work properly. But the camera was inexpensive, and the shutter worked, so I believe at some point later this year I will write about it. To me, the similarity in the design and style of both the Ebner and Coronet Vogue cameras is striking.

 The similarities make sense to me, especially since Ebner stopped producing cameras in 1935. Still, other camera companies, like Pontiac and Gallus, produced very similar cameras with the same sleek design. I'm confident that since the Coronet Vogue was introduced in 1936, they recognized that this sleek, Bakelite camera design would benefit their sales, and they produced it.

History:

 Albert Ebner & Co. was a small but interesting German manufacturer that moved from audio and electrical products into cameras during the early 1930s. Albert Ebner, born in 1891 in Bad Cannstatt, had already founded earlier companies before his name became associated with the camera firm that collectors remember today.

Portrait of Albert Ebner

 The company's background was in turntable motors, gramophone parts, and related household electrical goods. After earlier business setbacks and reorganizations, Ebner returned to Bad Cannstatt and formed a new Albert Ebner & Co., often abbreviated AECO, which broadened into vacuum cleaners, fans, and other electrical products before experimenting with cameras.

 Ebner's camera output was very limited. The firm produced only two folding models: a 6x9 cm camera on 120 film and a smaller 4.5x6 cm model on Kodak 620 film, both made around 1933 to 1935. These cameras had no special model names beyond their image size, which makes them especially plain in naming but distinctive in construction.

 What set them apart was their design. Both cameras used a marbled brown Bakelite body, a material associated with the radio and record-player industries, and they paired that shell with a Compur leaf shutter and lenses from makers such as Meyer-Gorlitz. That gives the Ebner cameras a streamlined Art Deco look that feels more industrially designed than mass-market consumer.

German advertising.

 The larger 6x9 version used standard 120 film, while the 4.5x6 version used 620 film, an unusual choice for a German maker of the time. Collectors also note that the cameras were sold mostly in Germany and that production was brief, with the company apparently ending camera manufacture by 1935. Because so few were made, surviving examples are relatively scarce today.

 Ebner's camera venture did not last long. Still, it fits a broader pattern of early 20th-century firms adapting existing expertise in Bakelite and mechanical assembly to camera production. After the camera period ended, Albert Ebner's business life continued in audio through the later Perpetuum-Ebner merger. In contrast, the cameras remained a short-lived sideline that now attracts collectors and historians.

My Camera:

 My Ebner 6x4.5cm camera is 4.25" tall with the retractable viewfinder down, and 5" tall with the viewfinder in the upright, viewing position. It's also 5.5 wide and 1.25" deep with the lens retracted, and 4" with the lens extended and in the normal taking position. The camera weighs 1 pound 0.7 ounces without film loaded inside. 

To open the Ebner camera, on the top of the camera is a button between the retractable front viewfinder, which pulls up from the camera body to produce a vertical rectangle. and a small pbar with a ball on the end used as the rear portion of the viewfinder. This bar is also retracted into the camera body. Once the button is pressed, the front door housing the lens, bellows, and shutter springs from the camera body.

The Ebner I own has a Meyer-Goerlitz 7.5cm F/4.5 lens (SN 625604), with a Compur shutter, ranging from 1/300 to 1 second, plus "T" and "B". There were several different lens and shutter combinations for the camera. The aperture range is from F/4.5 to 22. 

 Setting the shutter speed is done by turning a ring on the outer portion of the lens, and the aperture is set by sliding a lever with a pointing end to the desired aperture setting under the lens. Also, the shutter is cocked by one lever at the top of the shutter and released by another lever on the side of the shutter. Focusing the lens is done by rotating the lens itself to the desired focus distance in meters, as seen on the top of the lens.

To close the camera for transport, there is a bar at the bottom of the lens bed, just in front of the "Ebner" plate. Press these bars towards the camera body; the lens board releases, allowing you to tilt the board back up and into the camera body. It will click when the lens board is locked into position.

Opening the film back to load film is done by sliding the locking lever, which is located under the camera's strap. Once unlocked, you can slide the door open to reveal the camera's film chamber. Once opened, you'll see the vertical format 6x4.5 film area. The new film goes on the right side of the camera, and you'll transfer the empty spool from the right side to the left, where the film's winding wheel is located. My camera didn't have an empty spool, so I needed to supply the camera with one.

  Looking at the film holders' pins, the camera takes 620 film, but I accidentally loaded the camera's take-up chamber with 120 film, and it fit. Generally, when I try to put 120 in a 620 camera, the spools don't fit, or they don't turn because the pins are too small to grab the 120 spool. Let's see if I can load a roll of 120 film in the camera. Interestingly, this camera: the 120 film fits a bit snug, but the film advance engaged with the spool, and the film wound smoothly.

Since the camera is 6x4.5cm, with two red windows on the back, this symbolizes that you start with the number one in the first window, take your photo, and then wind the film until the number one shows up in the second window. You do this with the whole roll, which ends with the number eight showing in the second window, giving you sixteen images per roll of film.

 Once the film was loaded in the camera and the "start" arrows were showing, I closed the back of the camera, and my daughter, her dog, Bean. I went for a walk along the Columbia River and took photos with the camera. The camera is very "pocketable" and travels extremely well.

 Let's see how the images turned out.

 

The Results:

 The results aren't bad, but not the sharpest images either, especially compared to the Kolar Kola camera. I may have missed the focus distance, but most of the photos are sharp enough for an 8x10. Here are some of the images I took while walking the Columbia River with my daughter and Bean, her dog. 

Conclusion:

 There are several things I really like about the camera. Still, the thing I enjoyed most about this camera is its thinness when traveling. It's so thin compared to other medium-format cameras; for me, it makes it fun to use. Not being bulky or clumsy and being fairly lightweight make this camera a real pleasure to carry around.

 The brown pebble finish is also a bonus in my opinion, adding more to the camera than leather and chrome alone. It has a very appealing feel and firmness that make the camera fun to hold.

Designers in the 1930s were still in the Art Deco period. They had a real sense of classical design, which they implemented in their products. It makes me even more want to buy a 3D printer to experiment with designs and textures, which I feel are lacking in today's designs.  

 Thank you for taking the time to learn a bit about this very classic and rare camera made in Stuttgart, Germany, in the early to mid-1930s.

 I'd love to hear from you, so if you have a comment or one of your own, please share it with us here.

 Here are my other Camera Reviews.

 Cuny's Camera and Photos is my online eBay store where you might find one (or many) of the cameras I've reviewed, along with other camera and photo items I've picked up or hoarded over the many years in the business.

 Until next week, please be safe.

Salmoiraghi Luxus camera

My Salmoiraghi Lexus camera

I truly don't remember purchasing this camera, so my best recollection is that it was part of a larger lot of cameras I purchased. What drew me to this particular camera, as with many others in my collection, wasn't the name or rarity of the camera, but the camera's color. The beautiful tan color, along with the colored bellows, are things that I'm drawn to.

 The Salmoiraghi Lexus has been on my shelf for a few years, and it wasn't until this past weekend that I noticed it again. It was tucked away behind some other cameras in my collection. 

 Next week I'm traveling to Japan to do some camera and flea market shopping, hoping to find some treasures to write about in some of my upcoming blogs. I guess that about a thousand others are looking for the camera treasures while there, and figure, what better way to spend my time in Tokyo than to photograph the town, attend a few flea markets, and visit a few camera shops.

 I was gathering items to take to a camera show in the suburbs of Seattle last week when I noticed it. I questioned whether I really wanted to take the camera, as I knew I would eventually want to write about it. I put the Salmoiraghi Lexes with many other items I was taking to the show, but in the back of my mind, my willingness to sell them was half-hearted.

The other side of the Salmoiragi Lexus camera

 As I was pulling cameras out of the boxes to put on my tables for the camera show, the Salmoraghi Lexus was unfolded and put out for sale. Some people casually looked at it, but there was no real interest in the camera. There were a few people who liked the colored camera, but that was about it.

 In the back of my mind, I had already picked the camera I wanted to write about this week, but as I was putting away the cameras left over from the camera show, the Salmoiraghi Lexus just seemed like the camera to write about. 

 When I opened the camera, thinking about putting film in it so I could shoot with it for the blog, I checked the shutter to make sure it was working, but unfortunately, it's stuck open. So, at this point, I won't be able to photograph with it for the post. That's not Ideal, but what was gnawing at me was, What is a Salmoiraghi camera? I wasn't familiar with the brand at all, so I wanted to dig into the company and what this camera was all about.

 As I was doing my research for the camera, there was very little reference information, but I found MisterMondo Italian Camera, which had a great selection on 

History:

 Salmoiraghi cameras are a small and somewhat obscure chapter in Italian camera history, remembered mainly for a few postwar experimental and medium-format designs rather than for mass-market success. Collectors often discuss the name because the surviving models are uncommon, visually distinctive, and tied to the period when Italian manufacturers were trying to build a domestic camera industry after World War II.

Angelo Salmoiraghi. (From website)

 Salmoiraghi SpA, better known as La Filotecnica, began in Milan in 1865 when Angelo Salmoiraghi founded the Scuola-Officina Filotecnica. The school-workshop blended training, research, and production, reflecting Salmoiraghi's aim to turn precise scientific instrument making into an industrial enterprise. Over time, the company became associated with high-quality optical and surveying equipment, while keeping close ties to technical education and innovation. That early mix of craftsmanship and science helped establish La Filotecnica as a notable name in Italian instrument manufacturing.

 The best-known Salmoiraghi-related camera from the collector world appears to be a medium-format model developed in Milan around 1946–47. Reports from collectors describe it as a "pseudo twin-lens reflex" camera, built with a Bakelite body and alloy fittings, placing it squarely in the immediate postwar era, when makers were using practical materials and inventive layouts to reduce cost and complexity. That design choice suggests a company experimenting with form as much as function, aiming to create a camera that looked modern and handled differently from the boxy standard models of the time.

Italian advertisment for Salmoiraghi Nova I camera.

 What makes Salmoiraghi interesting is not a long production line but the rarity of the surviving evidence. Unlike the big Italian optical firms that became widely known through lenses, projectors, or industrial products, Salmoiraghi cameras seem to have been limited-run products that left only a thin paper trail. Much of what is known today comes from collector discussions rather than catalogs or formal company histories, which is why exact model details and production numbers remain hard to pin down.

 In that sense, Salmoiraghi cameras reflect a broader story in European camera manufacturing: many firms tried to enter the market in the 1940s and 1950s, but only a few scaled up successfully. Salmoiraghi's contribution appears to have been more inventive than influential, with its cameras now valued for their curiosity, design, and historical context. For photographers and collectors, they represent the optimism of a rebuilding Italian industry and the short-lived creativity of smaller makers trying to find a place beside better-known German and Japanese brands.

 Today, Salmoiraghi cameras are mostly encountered in collections, forum posts, and auction listings. Their scarcity means they are better known to specialists than to the general public, but that rarity is exactly what gives them historical appeal.

My Camera:

 My Salmoiraghi Lexus camera is very similar to many of the other 120 film, 6x9cm folding medium-format cameras from this era. The camera is 6" long by 3" tall and 1.5" deep when closed, and 5.25" deep with the lens extended. The camera weighs 1 pound, 0.1 ounces, unloaded.

To open the front of the camera and extend the lens, on the side of the camera, close to the film winding knob, is a small button to press that opens the front, exposing the beautiful original brown bellows.

 Looking at the front of the camera, the Salmoiraghi Lexus has a Perseus 105mm F/8.5 lens with aperture settings from F/8.5 to F/32, which can be set by a small sliding bar under the lens. The camera also has a Zenith shutter with speeds of 1/25, 1/50, 1/100, along with "B" and "Z" for timed exposures. Just to the right of the shutter speed selector, as you're holding the camera, is the shutter release. The shutter release also has a cable release socket for timed exposures.

The name Salmoiraghi is also imprinted under the lens, embossed in the brown leather on the top front and rear.

 There isn't a waist-level finder on the Salmoiraghi Lexus, only an eye-level finder which can be unfolded from the side of the camera. The sports style finder isn't very thick, and on my camera, which is common, the rear, or at times the front, doesn't stand up straight and seems to lean.

 To open the back of the camera to load film, under the strap is a lever you slide over to unlock the back. Swing the back open to reveal a very standard film-loading system. The winding lever doesn't pull out to load the empty spool, but on the other side is a silver button that pulls up to load the spool.

There's nothing on the other side to keep the new roll of film in place except a metal clip that wraps around the unexposed film and holds it in place.

 On the camera's back, two red windows generally indicate that the camera can handle multiple formats, as with the camera I wrote about last week, the Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta 531/2. Generally, there would be an insert for the camera to do both 6x9cm and 6x4.5cm images on the 120 roll of film. 

 Looking at the pattern for the film guides on the back of the camera, there may have been an insert for the camera. There are indents evenly spaced across the back, which would indicate there may have been one, but my camera doesn't have one, and I can't find any online references to one.

Once the film is loaded in the camera, close the back of the camera, making sure it's latched, and wind the film to the first frame.

 To close the front of the camera, there are two locking stops on the camera's struts, on either side, that need to be pressed in. By doing so, the front of the camera can collapse the lens and bellows back into the camera body.

Front view of Salmoiraghi Lexus camera when closed.

Results:

Since the shutter on the Salmoiraghi Lexus camera is inoperable, I wasn’t able to shoot a roll of film through it.

I may try at some point to disassemble the shutter and get it back in working condition. If/when that happens, I’ll be sure to update the post with images.

Conclusion:

 While I knew little about this camera when I purchased it, and really bought it for its wonderful color and matching bellows, I'm elated that I didn't sell it at the NW Camera show last weekend because of its rarity.

 It's not really well-made and doesn't offer many features, but the scarcity of the camera made in Italy means this will be in my collection for the time being. I'm sure, as I get older and whittle down my collection, it'll pass to another collector, and I hope they understand its rarity in the world of camera collecting.

 If you have questions or comments, please feel free to reach out to me; I'm always interested in discussing what you have in your collection, as well as the cameras I've reviewed.

 Thank you for taking some time to learn more about this Italian camera. To me, what I enjoy about this camera is the wonderful brown leather covering and matching brown bellows.

 Here are my other Camera Reviews.

 Cuny's Cameras and Photos is my online eBay store where I sell some of the cameras I've reviewed, along with many other camera oddities I've stumbled upon in the past few years.

 Until next week, please be safe.