Mizuho Six camera

My Mizuho Six camera & case

During my trip to Tokyo a month or so ago, one of my primary goals was to find a little-known or unusual camera to write about for this camera-collecting blog.

 It was on my last day in Tokyo that I visited Used Camera Box for the second time. To say this camera store is filled to the rafters is beyond description. Most of the camera stores I visited in Tokyo were well laid out, with space between cameras. All the items with tags and prices are very visible. It's very similar to what you'd see in any city in the world, with cameras or other products displayed. 

 The Used Camera Box is unlike most camera stores you'll come across.  The shop is pretty small, but the amount of cameras they have is unbelievable.  Many of the showcases featuring the higher-priced, most desirable cameras are well displayed. 

 Then there are other areas of the store with showcases with cameras on top of cameras, on top of cameras. Stacked three high and so crammed next to each other, it's difficult to see what they have towards the back of the showcase. 

 There are the bins, many, many bin of cameras. All around the store's perimeter are tall showcases. In front of these tall showcases are plastic bins filled with more cameras. Many of the cameras in these bins are "bargain" items, which means they might have a part missing or not work. These bins are stacked three high, going around much of the store. Because of this, it's probably one of my favorite used camera stores. 

Name on top of the camera below the shutter release

 For me, the real pleasure of collecting is the hunt. The excitement of finding a real odd or unusual item at a bargain price. It's similar to going to a Flea Market, as there may be a real treasure in the next cabinet or stall. 

 I worked my way to one of my favorite showcases towards the back of the store. It's a showcase filled with many of the older cameras. It has a mix of higher-priced and lower-priced items. The patient salesperson let me pull items out and check them out. It was from this showcase that I found this week's camera, the Mizuho Six. The camera comes with a nice leather-fitted case, too. This, along with last week's Baron RI, was another camera I had never heard of until I researched it.

 Just like last week's blog about the Baron RI camera, this week's camera is another very similar style. It's a folding 120 camera made in the early 1950s, when Japan was rebuilding after World War II. 

 It was manufactured by another, smaller, and little-known company that later changed its name to Neoca. Here's some history on the brand.

History:

 The Mizuho Six began life in the early 1950s, when Mizuho Koki of Japan was producing folding medium-format cameras for a market that still valued compactness and simplicity. These early Mizuho-branded folders used 120 film and reflected the practical, postwar approach common among smaller Japanese camera makers.

From my book on collecting Japanese Cameras

 In 1954, the company changed its name to Neoca, and the Mizuho Six line became part of that transition. The name change marked a shift from the earlier Mizuho identity toward a broader Neoca camera range. At the same time, the foldable medium-format design remained rooted in the company's first postwar products.

 The Mizuho Six itself went through a series of small but meaningful variations rather than a dramatic redesign. Known versions include the Mizuho Six I, II, III, IIB, IIIB, and V, as well as later Super models such as the Super, Super N, and Super T. These changes suggest the camera was gradually updated with different body details, finder arrangements, and lens or shutter combinations.

 The best-known early version, such as the Mizuho Six V a, was a folding camera that offered either 4.5x6 or 6x6 cm exposures and used an uncoupled rangefinder. That combination made it a flexible, straightforward tool for photographers who wanted medium-format image quality in a portable body.

 As Neoca moved into its own identity after 1954, the company shifted increasingly toward compact 35mm cameras. Still, the Mizuho Six remains important as a bridge between eras. It represents the company's early craftsmanship and the transitional period when Japanese manufacturers were moving from traditional folding cameras toward the more modern designs that would dominate later in the decade.

My Camera:

 Built in the early 1950s, my Mizuho Six camera is 5.5" wide, by 4" tall, by 2" deep with the lens closed, and 4" deep when the lens is extended into the taking position. The camera weighs 1 pound, 7 ounces without film loaded. The camera's serial number is 3391. The camera also has "Made in Occupied Japan" embossed on the side where the film door release is located.

To open the lens to take a photo, depress the small button on top of the camera located in front of the accessory shoe, and to the right of the film winding knob. Once depressed, the lens board opens, exposing the lens.

 The Mizuho Six has an 80mm Mizuho Kiko Miltar Special F/3.5 lens, serial # 2664, in an NKS shutter. The shutter speeds range from 1/200 to 1 sec, along with "B" for timed exposures. The shutter speed is set by turning the shutter speed dial around the lens to the desired speed. The shutter release is located on the top, right side of the camera, just in front of the "Mizuo-Six" name and serial number.

 The aperture is set similarly by sliding a knurled ring around the lens to the desired aperture, which ranges from F/3.5 to F/22.

It wasn't until I shot my first roll of film through the camera that I realized the shutter wasn't working properly, so I'll need to either get it fixed or sell the camera with the defect. The issue is when I cock the shutter, which is done with a small switch on the top of the lens, the shutter remains open until you depress the shutter release. It doesn't really "cock" the shutter as it should. 

 What I did notice was when I pulled the shutter cocking ever over to the farthest position, the shutter wouldn't open. It was when I released the lever after the cocking maneuver that the lens stayed open. If I pulled the lever all the way, held it, and then tripped the shutter release, the shutter would work as intended. This was awkward to use this way, but it's the method used to take the blog images.

 There is no rangefinder in this camera; it has only an optical viewfinder on top to frame your images. To focus on the subject, rotate the lens manually to the "guessed" distance to your subject before taking the photo.

 To close the camera for transport, depress the two enlarged tabs on the camera's struts inwards. The lens board will collapse, and you can close it back onto the camera body, which will lock it into position.

The one interesting feature of this camera is the ability to shoot either 6x6cm or 6x4.5cm. When you open the back of the camera to load film, there are two "wings" that can be pulled up from each side of the film chamber, covering a portion of the taking area and thus cropping the frame size from 6x6cm to 6x4.5cm.

 Once you make the change, you'll then use the appropriate red window on the back of the camera to count the frame numbers imprinted on the 120 rolls of film. It will also give the photographer four more images per roll, going from 12 images on a 6x6cm format to 16 on a 6x4.5 format camera. You'll need to shoot the entire roll in that format, as there's no way to change formats mid-roll.

You load the camera as you would any roll-film camera, with the take-up spool on the left side. Load the fresh roll on the right, and bring the film's leader to the take-up spool on the left,  making sure the leader is in the take-up spool. Then wind until you see the "start" arrows pointing outwards. Close the back of the camera and wind the film until you see the number 1 in the red window for the format you're using.

 Now that we have film loaded into the camera, let's take it out and see what results we get.

 My Results:

 Opening the Mizuho Six and cleaning both the front and rear elements of the lens before loading the camera. I had some T-Max 100 film that was just about out of date, so I loaded it into the camera. I chose the 6x6cm format so I could use a larger image size and assess the lens's sharpness.

 Here are the results from my walk around the neighborhood with the Mizuho Six camera

Conclusion:

 Well, I think the second roll of film turned out much better than the first roll, but I'm not overly impressed with the sharpness. This could be from a couple of different factors.

 While I cleaned the lens as best I could, it still seems to have some haze. The second factor is that the lens is slightly out of registration. I'm a fairly good guesser of distance, and the lens even at infinity seems a bit out of focus. I also think that some of the issues with the focus were caused by camera movement and what I needed to do to operate the shutter.

 The camera also has cosmetic issues. Some parts of the leatherette are missing and can be easily replaced. Given the shutter issues and the lenses' haze, this may not last long in my collection, and you'll probably see this in my online store soon.

 On the plus side, the camera can shoot in different formats, which is a nice feature, but I don't think it's going to overcome the camera's faults. It's a fun camera to shoot with, and I was happy to learn more about this camera.

 Thank you for taking some time from your busy day to learn a bit about this little-known camera from the beginning of the Japanese camera revolution.

 Here's a link to my other Camera Reviews.

 Cuny's Cameras and Photos is my online eBay store where you'll find some of the cameras I reviewed for sale, along with many other cameras, lenses, and photo items from my collection.

 Until next week, please be safe.

Baron RI camera

My Baron RI camera

When I visited Tokyo, Japan, a few weeks ago, one of my main objectives was to find odd, unusual, or little-known cameras that I could write about for this blog post. I found a few cameras that meet this criteria and will be writing about them over the next couple of weeks. 

 To get familiar with many of the used camera stores in Tokyo, I hired Bellamy Hunt from Japanese Camera Hunter for a half-day tour. Not only is he a wonderful, kind, and knowledgeable camera collector, but his background on how he started his company is intriguing. I had a wonderful time getting to know him and appreciated all his insights into collecting cameras.

 One of the shops he took me to was Used Camera Box at 1 Chome-13-7 Nishishinjuku, Shinjuku City, Tokyo 160-0023. It was, to me, a jaw-dropping experience. The camera store is not that big, but almost 90% of it is filled to the rafters with cameras. There are many showcases with cameras on top of cameras, and in front of these showcases are bins of more used cameras.

 Only two people were working there, so I didn't want to monopolize their time opening and closing different showcases. If the showcases had been opened and I had places to look through all the items they had, it would have easily taken a couple of days, which would have been something I would have done.

 During my time with Bellamy, we didn't spend much time there, but I found one or two items, paid for them, and left. It was a store I planned to come back to when I had more time, to spend a couple of hours going through the bins and looking through different showcases, trying to find the odd, unusual, or unknown items.

Embossing on the camera leans board.

 On my final day in Tokyo, I went back to Used Camera Box and did what I had planned. When I arrived in the morning, soon after they opened, there were no customers, so I had time to go through many of the bins and scour at least one or two of the showcases. 

 There was a showcase towards the rear of the store that looked like it had many interesting items. I noted the items I was interested in and called over one of the two salespersons. At this point, a couple of other customers were there, but I was determined to look at the items I wanted.

 The salesperson was very courteous and allowed me to pick and look at several items I was interested in. There were some very rare gems, but the pricing was considerably higher than I was willing to pay, so I decided on 3-4 cameras, paid for them, and left very happy.

 One of the cameras purchased in the last few days at Used Camera Box is the camera I'm writing about in this post: the Baron RI camera. 

 The Baron RI camera is one I had never heard of or seen before, though it looks like so many other Japanese cameras from this timeframe. A folding 120, or 620 camera with a fold-out bed and nice Japanese shutter, taken from German manufacturers who made similar style cameras before World War II.

 Doing research on the camera, Baron cameras were made only by Chūō Seiki for a few years, between 1952 and 1956. They produced a few different models, but the company was short-lived, and the cameras are not very common.

History:

 Baron cameras were part of Japan's early postwar flood of small camera brands, emerging in the early 1950s when the country's photographic industry was rebuilding and rapidly expanding. These cameras reflect a period when dozens of manufacturers rushed to meet domestic demand and to compete in export markets, often by producing affordable 35mm and folding cameras inspired by European designs.

Japanese advertisment for Baron cameras

 In the early 1950s, Japanese camera makers were still working under the lingering effects of wartime disruption and occupation-era labeling rules. Many products carried "Made in Occupied Japan" markings until around 1952–1953, after which "Made in Japan" became standard as exports broadened and the industry gained a stronger international identity. Baron belongs to this wider ecosystem of small, fast-moving firms that relied on compact production runs, simple mechanics, and competitive pricing to find buyers.

 What makes Baron interesting is not that it was one of the biggest names, but that it represents the experimental, entrepreneurial side of the Japanese camera boom. The period was crowded with startups, subcontractors, and short-lived brands, many of which produced cameras that are now obscure but historically important because they show how Japan's industry learned to scale up, refine machining, and improve optical quality. That broader growth helped Japanese cameras go from largely unknown outside the country to serious competitors in overseas markets by the end of the decade.

 For collectors and historians, Baron cameras are valuable as artifacts of that transition. They sit at the intersection of postwar recovery, consumer optimism, and Japan's rise as a global center of photographic manufacturing. Even when the cameras themselves were modest, the brand is part of the larger story of how Japanese makers shifted from imitation and survival to innovation and global influence.

My Camera:

 My Baron RI camera is 4" tall, by 5.5" wide, and 2" deep when the lens is closed, and 4" deep with the lens extended. The camera weighs 1 pound, 8.1 ounces without film loaded. Embossed on the folding bed door is "Baron Camera Company, Tokyo, Japan."

The camera came with a very nice brown leather-fitted camera case, though the strap is missing. The case still offers wonderful protection for the camera. The serial number for my Baron R camera is 22893, stamped on the top plate of the back of the camera.

 To open the camera lens door, slide the chrome lever under the name "Baron-R," which unlocks the lens door and exposes the lens as it extends on chrome struts along the side of the lens door.

 The Baron RI camera has a Baron Anastigmat 80mm F/3.5 lens in an NKS-FB shutter. The shutter speeds range from 1/300 to 1 second, plus "B". To set the different shutter speeds, turn the dial around the lens to the desired shutter speed. There is a cocking lever for the shutter, located above the lens, with the shutter release on the lower left of the lens when viewed from the front. The shutter release is activated via a rod and linkage from the shutter release on the top of the camera, which pushes the shutter release when depressed.

The aperture range is from F/3.5 to f/22. The aperture is set by sliding the lever on top of the lens to the desired aperture setting. To the side of the aperture settings is a PC sync used for flash. There are no settings for "X" of "FP," though, so I'm unsure if this is for electronic or bulb flash.

 To close the lens bed, you press back on the two sides of the struts, which have "Baron" embossed into them, and press back into the camera body, which collapses the lens door and allows it to fold back into the camera body. Pressing in will lock the lens door into the normal transporting position and allow the camera case to close.

 My Baron-RI camera does have a couple of issues. I'm confident that's why I paid so little for it. None of the issues are deal-breakers for me purchasing the camera. The main item, the accessory or cold shoe, is missing from the camera. That's not a huge deal, as I generally don't use them. I did put black fabric tape over the spot where the accessory shoe goes, to give the camera a better appearance.

There is another item about the camera I'm not certain about. On the back of the camera, there are red windows with sliding covers for both 4.5x6 and 6x6 formats. I'm not sure whether the camera came with a mask for both formats, or if the company offered two different formats and only made one back for both cameras. Also stamped on the back of the camera, below the red windows, is "Baron-Six" embossed into the leather.

 An item on the Baron RI that I've never seen in a camera is an uncoupled rangefinder. When you look through the viewfinder on the rear of the camera, you view the rangefinder. On the right side, as you're holding the camera, there's a wheel that rotates, allowing you to focus the rangefinder. On my camera, it's bright and clear. You then transfer the distance from the internal rangefinder to the lens and set the distance to the subject. I'm confident that building an integrated rangefinder, which would focus the lens, would have added much more intricacy to the camera, but they either didn't want to bother or just wanted to keep the costs down. It's an interesting item built into the camera.

To load film into the Baron RI, on the left side of the camera is a lever you pull up, which opens the door to the right, exposing a standard roll film chamber. Load film as you would with any roll film camera by placing the take-up spool on the transport side and pulling down the knobs at the bottom of the camera. Put in the fresh roll in the empty area and bring the leader to the take-up spool. Thread the lead into the slot on the take-up spool and wind until you see the film is engaged and rolling onto the spool. Wait until you see the "arrows" pointing outward, close the back of the camera, and press down the locking bar, then wind the film advance knob until you see the #1 in the red window. Take your photo, and wind until you see the #2, and so on through the roll of film.

Now that I have film in the camera. Let's go around the neighborhood and see how the camera performs.

 My Results:

 I gave the camera a very quick look over. All the shutter speeds were working, and the aperture moved as it should. I loaded a roll of Ilford 125 film into the camera, went to the Dog Park with my daughter, and walked around the block, looking for flowers and other subjects to photograph.

 Here are the results.

Conclusion:

 Overall, the camera was easy to use and fun to shoot with. 

 It wasn't until I processed the film that I dug further and noticed a pinhole in the camera's bellows. That's why the photos have this light streak, and not just a light streak, but a gush of light on the bottom of the images, consistent in all the photos taken.

 I liked the rangefinder, which was easy to use and much easier for me than guessing distance. After focusing, I then transferred the distance to the lens, which was fun, and produced sharp images. I'll need to go in and add some thin fabric tape and black liquid fabric to the bellows to eliminate the annoying light leaks. It's a camera I purchased on my trip to Tokyo, and I will keep it for the time being.

 Thank you for taking some time to read about this little-known camera at the beginning of the Japanese camera revolution in the early to mid-1950s.

 I'd like to hear from you if you have questions, or even if you have a Baron camera or one of the many similar-style cameras made in Japan during this timeframe.

 Please take a moment to look at some of my other Camera Reviews.

 Cuny's Cameras and Photos is my online eBay store where you'll see some of the cameras I've reviewed, along with many other lenses, and vintage camera accessories I have for sale.

 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.

Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta 531/2

My Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta 530/2 camera

Walking through flea markets, garage sales, or camera shows, I always stop to look at what Zeiss cameras they have, and the cameras that I always pick up to look over are any of the Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta cameras. Not only because they look impressive even when closed, but also because I'm always struck by how well-made and intricate they are for a camera that's 90 years old.

 To me, the Super Ikonta cameras are like looking at a masterpiece of art. They are timeless in their form, compactness, and mechanical intricacies. When closed, they are compact and sturdy. They have a heft to them that you know they were manufactured to last a long time.

 Zeiss Ikon made four different Super Ikonta styles. There were the smaller models in 6x4.5 or 6x6cm formats, then they also made a larger, specifically longer version that shot 6x9, and a rare version that shot 6x11cm. The 6x9cm version came with a metal insert that reduced the image size to 6x4.5, essentially allowing the photographer to get twice as many images on the 120 roll film loaded in the camera.

 Having owned both in my life, I'm torn between them. On the one hand, I prefer the longer negatives, so the 6x9cm version is appealing, but it's also a bit bigger to carry. The more compact 6x6cm version is a terrific camera to carry when you travel. They are compact, fit in your pocket, have wonderful optics, and use a rangefinder to focus.

 Looking at the cameras on my shelf for a camera to write about, the Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta 530/2 was a camera I recently got back from a full CLA, so I knew, or at least hoped there wouldn't, or shouldn't be an issue putting film in the camera and running a roll of film through it. 

Horizontal view of my Zeiss Ikon Soper Ikonta 530/2 camera

 The camera I had purchased almost a year ago was from an online auction. I saw it at the auction along with a few other cameras, placed a fairly low bid, and won it. The camera was shipped to me, and upon inspection, I noticed the shutter wasn't working. It worked at higher speeds, but the camera needed servicing, so I sent it for CLA.

 My camera came back from the technician and looked flawless. The rangefinder was bright and accurate, the lens was bright, the focus was smooth, and the lens popped out of the camera as if it were new. 

 Whenever I see a Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta or another rangefinder folding camera, the first thing I check is the shutter to see if it's opening/closing, especially at slower speeds. Then I check the focus to see how smoothly the lens and focus knob turn. It seems that many of the cameras have very stiff focusing, so when the camera came back, and the focus knob turned so nicely, I must have had a large grin on my face, as this was a new experience for me: a smooth focus.

 With all that said, it was time to put a fresh roll of 120 film into the camera and take a walk through the neighborhood on a wonderful spring afternoon. The sun was out, and so many of the trees and flowers were in bloom, it was the ideal opportunity to take my newly CLA'D Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta for a spin.

Brief History of the Zeiss Ikonta Cameras:

 Zeiss Ikon and the Ikonta cameras sit at an important crossroads in European camera history. Formed in 1926 from the merger of four major German makers—Contessa-Nettel, Ernemann, Goerz, and Ica—Zeiss Ikon became one of the largest and most influential camera companies in the world, backed by the Carl Zeiss optical tradition.

 The Ikonta line emerged around 1929 as Zeiss Ikon's premium folding-camera family. It was introduced in several sizes, including 6x4.5, 6x6, and 6x9 roll film frames, and represented the company's effort to rationalize and modernize the crowded product lines inherited from the merger. These cameras were built as elegant folders: compact when closed, but capable of producing high-quality medium-format images when opened.

 What made Ikonta especially significant was its market position. Zeiss Ikon used better lenses and more refined construction on Ikonta models, while cheaper versions sometimes carried the related Ikomat name. The line became closely associated with Carl Zeiss lenses, such as the Tessar, which helped the cameras earn a strong reputation for sharpness and image quality.

 A major step forward came with the Super Ikonta series, introduced in 1933. The "Super" name indicated the addition of a coupled rangefinder, making focusing far easier and more accurate than the original scale-focusing Ikontas. That innovation helped define some of the best prewar folding cameras available.

 Production continued through the war years and into the postwar period, but folding cameras gradually lost favor as photography shifted toward more modern fixed-lens designs and 35mm systems. Even so, Ikonta and Super Ikonta remain admired today for their craftsmanship, portability, and classic Zeiss optical quality.

My Camera:

 My Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta 531/2 is 7" wide by 4" tall and 2 "deep when the lens is retracted, and it's 5" tall when you open the camera, and the viewfinder pops up, and 5.5" deep when the lens is extended. The camera weighs 1 pound 15 ounces without the case or film loaded. My serial number is E30192.

The Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta 531/2 camera has several different options for lens and shutter combinations:

  • Tessar 10.5 cm f/4.5 in a Compur shutter. This combination is the best-documented early setup for the 530/2, especially on black-enamel versions from the early 1930s.

  • Triotar 10.5 cm f/4.5 in a Klio shutter. Some early examples were fitted this way, making it a less common but real configuration.

  • Tessar 10.5 cm f/4.5 in a Klio shutter. At least one documented example shows this pairing, indicating that Zeiss Ikon used multiple shutters during the model's production.

  • Later or related Super Ikonta variants appear with Tessar lenses in Compur Rapid or Synchro-Compur shutters, though those are more typical of later Super Ikonta models.

Looking at the top of the camera, on the right side of the rangefinder, is a button that opens the camera when it's closed. According to the Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta manual. Hold the camera in your right hand, with the front slightly pointed down. Press the button, and the camera should open slightly. Then pull down on the front cover so the bellows and lens extend to the taking position. Once the lens is extended, you'll need to swing the arm holding the small round lens into place so you can use the rangefinder for focusing. Also, when you open the camera, the Albada (sports) finder springs open. Look through the Albada finder; it has lines for both 6x9cm images in a horizontal format and for 6x4.5cm images for a vertical subject.

Now that the camera is open, you're ready to make exposures once the film is loaded, which we'll get to in just a moment. The shutter and aperture settings are located around the lens. Shutter speeds from 1/250 to 1 sec, plus "B," are set by turning the ring to the desired speed. The aperture is set by sliding the arrowed lever at the bottom of the lens to the desired aperture, which ranges from F/4.5 to F/32 on my camera.

 The focus wheel is on the front of the swing arm you moved over for the rangefinder, just above the lens when the camera is in the vertical position. For focusing, look through the small window on the back of the camera. Turn the dial to use rangefinder focus, which includes a small yellow area in the middle of the finder. When out of focus, the subject will appear as two images. Your main subject, and a second image in the yellow area. Turn the wheel until both images merge into one, indicating the subject is now in focus. 

Set your shutter speed and aperture setting, and don't forget to cock the shutter. The shutter release is on the top, left side of the camera. Press the shutter release, which will trip the shutter via a series of linkages that run along the bottom of the lens bed. Just behind the shutter release is a small window. When the window is grey, the shutter has been tripped, and you'll need to turn the film winding lever until the small window turns red. At this point, you can re-cock the shutter and release it. 

To open the back of the camera to load film, under the camera's handle is a small slider with an arrow pointing toward the opening. Slide the small knob in the direction of the arrow, and the camera back will open. Load the film as you would any 120 roll film camera, roll the film so the "start" arrows are showing, then close the back of the camera, and wind the film advance knob so the number 1 shows up in the appropriate window on the back of the camera. 

There are two red widows on the back of the camera: one for 6x9cm images and one for 6x4.5 cm images, if you have the metal insert in. If you have the insert in the camera, you'll use both windows for film advance, as you would with a 127 film camera with two windows. Stop at the number 1 on the far right window, then take your photo. Wind the film until the number 1 appears in the second window on the left, then take your photo. Then wind the film until the number 2 shows up on the first window on the right side, and so on through the number 8. For 6x9cm images, you'll get 8 exposures per roll; for 6x4.5, 16.

 To close the camera for transport, slide the arm you extended for focus back over the bellows. Holding the camera with both hands, press in on the locking arms on the struts to lock the bellows and lens into place; the bed will collapse a bit. Fold the lens back into the camera until the camera clicks closed, then flip down the Albana finder.

My Images:

 Let's take a look at how the images turned out. Here are a few of the images I took with the Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta camera.

Conclusion:

 The first few images were incredibly sharp, well-exposed, and as I expected. I noticed that towards the end of the roll, the images became softer and less sharp, which concerned me. What did I do wrong?

 To give some background, I had eye surgery on my right eye, which is my dominant eye, about a year or two ago. When I went to see the eye doctor, I could barely make out details with my right eye, so surgery was necessary. Since then, it's gotten a bit better, but not as good as it used to be. Now I'm getting used to putting the camera up to my left eye, which is considerably better than my right. It still feels awkward, but it's my new normal.

Missing pressure plate

 I thought this contributed to the images being soft. Then I remember what a good friend, Mike Eckman, said a few weeks ago when we were discussing image sharpness. He said that he had a similar instance and noticed that the film's pressure plate was missing. At this point, I opened the back of the camera, and sure enough, the pressure plate was missing. 

 How could I miss that when I'm loading the camera? You get so used to looking at and loading cameras that you miss that a camera doesn't have a pressure plate.

 At this point, I'm sure I could manufacture one out of something like thin foamcore and just cut out circles for the red window. Still, it's a lot of fun to use, and the images are incredible. I'll chalk it up as a learning experience and double-check to be sure they have the pressure plate from now on.

 Here are some of the other Camera Reviews I've done.

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

 Please feel free to comment on this or any of the other camera reviews I've done. I'd love to hear from you.

 Until next week, please be safe.

 

Rolleiflex SL66

My Rolleiflex SL66

As a photographer and photo industry professional for well over 50 years, I've had the privilege of working with just about every kind of camera you can imagine. From everyday 35mm SLRs and rangefinders to Hasselblad systems, I've logged a lot of miles with medium‑format gear as well.

 In the late 1990s, I represented Sinar, which meant regular time behind some of the finest large‑format cameras available. Later, repping Leaf digital backs put me in front of Mamiya RBs and 645s, Hasselblad V and H systems, Fuji GX680s, and the Contax 645. With all that variety, there was still one big gap in my experience: I had never actually photographed with a Rolleiflex SL66.

 About a year before I retired—so roughly three years ago—I finally had my chance. An SL66 with 80mm, 50mm, and 250mm lenses came up for auction online. I wasn't sure about the condition, but I rolled the dice and bid anyway.

 When I won the lot at a surprisingly low price, my first reaction wasn't joy; it was suspicion. Inexpensive cameras often have a story. To my surprise, the body turned out to be mint‑to‑near‑mint, and the lenses were in equally excellent shape. The real question, of course, was whether it worked.

 I pulled off the lens cap, removed the dark slide, cocked the shutter, and pressed the release. At a fast speed, the camera rewarded me with that beautiful, crisp shutter sound. Then came the real test: I set it to 1/2 second. The shutter opened, paused, and closed exactly as it should. At that point, I had a big grin on my face—I knew I had a mechanically healthy SL66 on my hands.

 And then, like so many good intentions, the camera went on a shelf.

Background: Rollei's Leap into SLRs

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For decades, "Rolleiflex" meant twin‑lens reflex. That changed with the introduction of the Rolleiflex SL66 at Photokina 1966, Rollei's serious move into the professional 6×6 SLR world. Designed as a studio‑oriented system to challenge Hasselblad, the SL66 combined a focal‑plane shutter, modular film backs, and interchangeable finders with familiar Rollei ergonomics: left‑hand focusing and right‑hand film advance.

 Rollei had explored the idea of a medium‑format SLR as far back as the mid‑1950s, but strong TLR sales kept those projects on the shelf until demand shifted and Hasselblad began to dominate professional work. When it finally arrived, the SL66 was a true "engineer's camera": bellows focusing, the ability to reverse‑mount lenses for close‑up work, and front‑standard tilt for plane‑of‑focus control—features that gave it some of the movements you'd normally associate with a view camera.

 Built from 1966 to 1982, the SL66 used 120/220 roll film in 6×6 backs and typically wore Carl Zeiss Planar glass, firmly placing it in the high‑end studio category. Later SL66E and SL66SE models added through‑the‑lens metering and improved electronics. Still, the core concept stayed the same: a heavy, extremely capable, close‑focus‑friendly studio machine in a world increasingly moving toward lighter, more electronic medium‑format systems.

My Camera

My Rolleiflex SL66 is a substantial camera. With the 80mm lens retracted, it measures about 7" front to back; with the bellows fully extended, it's closer to 9". It's roughly 6" wide thanks to the oversized focusing knob, about 4.5" tall with the waist‑level finder closed, and around 7" tall when the chimney is open. On the scale, the body with a back and an 80mm lens comes in at about 4 pounds, 4.5 ounces—this is not a casual walk‑around point‑and‑shoot.

That weight buys you some very unique capabilities. The standout feature is the built‑in bellows, which allows the SL66 to focus much closer than most medium‑format SLRs I've used. Mamiya RB/RZ cameras also use bellows and can get in tight, but the SL66 manages similar close‑focus versatility in a slightly more compact, much lighter and a better‑balanced package. For anyone who loves close‑up or macro work, that alone makes the camera worth a serious look.

The second signature feature is the double-bayonet lens mount, primarily used with the 50mm, 80mm, and 150mm lenses. The lenses can mount in the normal way, with automatic aperture operation, or be reversed on the body for even greater magnification. In reversed mode, the aperture becomes manual: you open up to focus, then stop down to your chosen aperture for the exposure. It's slower than modern macro setups, but the flexibility it provides is excellent for tabletop and product work.

In addition to bellows and reverse mounting, the SL66 offers up to 8 degrees of lens tilt. That tilt lets you "lay down" the plane of focus, bringing more of a product or subject into sharpness at wider apertures. In practice, it means I can photograph something like a 35mm cassette and its box at close range and keep both on‑axis surfaces acceptably sharp without having to stop down to the smallest apertures.

Unlike Hasselblad V‑series cameras, which use leaf shutters in the lenses, the SL66 uses a focal‑plane shutter in the body, with speeds from 1 second to 1/1000 plus "B" for long exposures. Flash sync is limited to 1/30, but for studio or location strobe work, the flash duration actually stops motion, so I haven't found the 1/30 sync speed to be a practical limitation with decent strobes. The shutter speed dial is integrated into the film advance: you pull out the handle, advance clockwise until it stops, then swing it back counterclockwise to cock the shutter for the next frame. Inside the crank is a multiple‑exposure switch, which makes stacking exposures on one frame very straightforward once you know where to find it.

The SL66 lens lineup was designed by Carl Zeiss, and it shows. Optically, the lenses I have are excellent, with contrast and sharpness fully in the "top tier" I expect from Zeiss glass. The system spans from 30mm all the way to 1000mm, and Rollei also offered two leaf‑shutter lenses—an 80mm Distagon and a 150mm Sonnar—with flash sync up to 1/500 for shooters who need higher sync speeds. In my experience so far, the standard lenses deliver exactly the kind of image quality you want from a camera of this size and weight.

 The film back system is well thought out. The standard back takes either 120 or 220 film, and you can get inserts and backs for 6×6 or 6×4.5. The dark slide parks neatly on the back when you're shooting, which means you're not constantly wondering where you set it down. Loading is similar to Mamiya's insert‑based backs: open the door, pull the insert, load the film, reinsert, then wind to the first frame. A pop‑out winding wheel on the side of the back helps tension and advance the film before the main crank takes over. Once you've shot the twelve frames on 120, the wheel pops back out to let you wind the roll off before opening the back.

On the camera body's left side is that big focusing knob, which doubles as a reference for the lens in use; you can pull it out and set it for your focal length. The knob turns quite a bit when you're focused in tight, but the throw is smooth and precise. Just ahead of it is the tilt control: a locking lever and wheel for setting and securing the lens tilt angle. The body also carries a cold shoe for accessories and a pair of covered flash sync ports. Up top, pressing the chrome button opens the waist‑level finder, and a second press pops up the magnifier for critical focusing.

I use an L‑grip that mounts into the bottom quick‑mount slot alongside the tripod socket. That grip transforms the camera from a studio brick into something I'm comfortable hand‑holding for a walk, letting my left hand manage focus and support while my right handles shutter release and film advance. It doesn't make the SL66 light, but it does make it surprisingly usable off a tripod.

My Results

When I finally pulled the SL66 off the shelf this year, I decided not to overthink it. I loaded a roll of film, stepped out into my neighborhood on an uncharacteristically sunny February day in the Pacific Northwest, and treated it like any other camera I'd take for a walk. The first few frames were simple subjects—houses, trees, textures—mainly to get a feel for the shutter sequence, the advance, and how the camera balanced with the L‑grip in hand.

 What struck me almost immediately was how deliberate the camera feels. The weight and long focus throw slow you down in a good way; you don't "spray and pray" with an SL66. Composing on the waist‑level finder is a pleasure: the screen is bright, the magnifier makes critical focusing easy, and the big focus knob lets you land focus precisely rather than hunting back and forth. By the time I finished that first roll, the camera felt intuitive in a way only a well‑designed mechanical tool can.

Back at home, I wanted to see what the SL66 could really do in its natural habitat: close‑up work. I set up a small scene with a 35mm film cassette and its box, first focusing as close as I could with the lens in the normal position. Even without reversing the lens, the built‑in bellows let me get in surprisingly tight. Then I flipped the lens around on the double bayonet mount and repeated the setup. The difference in magnification was obvious—the frame filled with the cassette and text on the box —and the tilt function came into its own, letting me hold both the front and top surfaces in focus at a reasonable working aperture.

My apologies for the dusty images.

I also pointed the camera at a plant in my office, working closely again. Here, the combination of bellows, tilt, and that Zeiss glass really shone: crisp detail where I wanted it, smooth falloff where I didn't, and a rendering that feels more like a small view camera than a traditional medium‑format SLR. The process is slower than with a modern macro lens and autofocus, but the results—and the experience of making the images—are deeply satisfying.

Conclusion: Is the SL66 the Best Medium‑Format SLR?

In my personal opinion, the Rolleiflex SL66 is the best medium‑format single‑lens reflex camera I've ever used. It isn't the lightest, fastest, or most convenient option, but as a creative tool—especially for close‑up, product, and careful location work—it's truly exceptional.

 Why I let it sit so long is beyond me. The camera is a joy to shoot, and the results justify the effort. Small design touches like the dark‑slide holder, the smart film advance on the back, the generous close‑focusing via bellows, and the ability to reverse lenses for even greater magnification all add up to a macro photographer's dream. The overall build quality, leatherwork, and control layout make it feel every bit the premium instrument it was intended to be.

 That said, it's important to be honest about the downsides. The SL66 is heavy and bulky compared with many 6×6 systems; accessories and lenses can be harder to find and more expensive than Hasselblad equivalents, and the focal‑plane shutter's 1/30 flash sync may be a deal‑breaker for some styles of studio work. It's also an older, complex mechanical camera, which means a good technician and a healthy maintenance budget are essential.

 If you value portability, fast handling, and high sync speeds above all else, there are better choices. But if you're drawn to careful composition, close‑up and tabletop work, and you appreciate a camera that rewards deliberate, thoughtful photography, the Rolleiflex SL66 is tough to beat. It has become one of my favorite medium‑format cameras, and I fully expect it to see regular use.

 Thank you for taking the time to learn about my new favorite medium‑format camera. I'd love to hear your experiences with the SL66—or your questions about this or any of my other camera reviews—and if you're curious about owning one yourself, feel free to stop by my eBay store, Cuny's Cameras and Photos, to see what I currently have available.

Kowa Six MM Camera

My Kowa Six MM camera.

For some odd reason, I've always felt negative about Kowa cameras. It goes back to when I worked in a camera store in the mid- to late 1970s. The first job I had was handling camera repairs for the shop, which meant packing up the cameras, shipping them to the manufacturer or independent repair facilities, handling the repair estimates, pricing them when they came back from repairs, and calling the customers to let them know their camera was back and ready to be picked up. 

 I can remember when I received notices from many of the camera repair facilities that Kowa cameras were no longer serviceable due to a lack of parts, and that still sticks in my mind to this day. There was always a thought in the back of my mind that if you had a Kowa camera and something happened to it, it was not repairable. 

 It wasn't until many years later, and when I say many, probably 40 years later, that I visited a repair facility in Los Angeles. This person had many Kowa cameras and said he could repair them. He liked the quality of the camera. These weren't the 35mm Kowa camera but the Kowa Six medium-format camera. At that moment, my thought process switched, and the negative stigma of a horrible camera turned to something somewhat positive.

Kowa Six MM with grip.

 Fast-forward about five years, and I had the opportunity to pick up a Kowa Six MM camera for a reasonable price. I didn't know if the camera was in good working condition, but I knew where to get it fixed if it wasn't working.

 When the camera arrived, I started to fiddle with it for a bit, and my negative thoughts faded when the camera was in good working condition. The Kowa Six had a 55mm f3.5 lens, which I like, and a grip for the camera, which gave the purchase more value. As I was playing with the camera, I went from a negative feeling about the camera from many years ago, to WOW, this is a nice and well-built camera. It was time to put some film in the camera and see what this camera can do.

Company History:

Kowa, a Japanese company, has a long and fascinating history in optics, including producing high-quality cameras and lenses. Founded in 1894 as a trading company, Kowa Co., Ltd. initially focused on textiles and later expanded into various industries, including pharmaceuticals and electronics. Its entrance into the optical and photographic industry began in the mid-20th century, marking a significant era for the company.

Ad for Kowa Six camera.

 Kowa began producing photographic equipment in the 1950s, when Japan's camera industry flourished. One of its earliest camera lines was the Kowa Six, a medium-format 6x6 cm single-lens reflex (SLR) camera introduced in the early 1960s. The Kowa Six and its successors—the Kowa 6 MM and Kowa Super 66—became particularly popular among professional and serious amateur photographers due to their solid construction, sharp lenses, and competitive pricing. These cameras were often praised for their simplicity and reliability. They offered interchangeable lenses and accessories similar to more expensive competitors like Hasselblad.

 In addition to medium-format cameras, Kowa produced a range of 35mm film cameras. The Kowa SW, a fixed-lens wide-angle camera introduced in 1964, was particularly notable for its ultra-wide 28mm lens. Other models, like the Kowa SER and Kowa H series, featured leaf shutters and high-quality fixed lenses, catering to various photographic needs. Despite strong optical performance, Kowa's 35mm cameras struggled to gain significant market share, especially against major players like Canon, Nikon, and Minolta.

 Kowa eventually withdrew from the still camera market in the 1970s, focusing instead on its core strengths in optics and electronics. However, the company remained in the optical field, becoming well-known for producing spotting scopes, binoculars, and lenses for industrial and medical applications. Today, Kowa lenses are used in various professional contexts, from wildlife observation to television broadcasting.

 Though Kowa's time in the consumer camera market was relatively brief, its medium-format cameras have left a lasting impression. Collectors and film photography enthusiasts who value their durability, sharp optics, and mechanical precision still seek them out. While sometimes overlooked, Kowa's contribution to photographic history represents a unique chapter in Japan's post-war camera industry boom.

My Camera:

 My Kowa Six MM camera is 5" tall when the light chimney is closed and 7.5" tall with it open, 4.5" wide including the winding lever, and 4" deep without the lens attached. The serial number on my Kowa Six MM is 325240. The lens on my camera is the first of three generations and is a  55mm f3.5 lens. The serial number on my lens is 153507. One of the great things about the Kowa Six system is that all the lenses have leaf shutters built into them, which is very similar to the Hasselblad system. My Kowa Six MM with 55mm F3.5 lens weighs 4lb. 9.7oz without the side grip.

The shutter speed built into the lens goes from 1/500 to 1 sec. Along with "T" for timed exposure, the aperture ranges from F3.5 to F22. One of the advantages I found about the Kowa Six MM was how easy it is to set the focus, shutter speed, and aperture, which are all located on the lens barrel. Each setting has its ring and is easily moved and marked. The focus ring moves smoothly, and the shutter speed and aperture rings click into the desired setting. The lens also has the flash PC socket, along with a switch to set the 10-second self-timer (V), along with the flash settings for bulb (M), electronic flash (X). The shutter release is on the front and bottom right of the camera body. There is also a locking collar around the shutter release to prevent releasing the shutter when you don't want to.

 When reading about the camera, a few things were mentioned. One of the items mentioned was that the camera tends to move the focus slightly due to the mirror movement, causing the image to lose sharpness. I'm unsure if the focus or the camera is moving, which causes the image to be a bit soft, but I'll be aware of that when I shoot the camera.

 To view your subject, open the light chimney. Pull up on either side of the light chimney, and the viewfinder opens easily. There is a magnifier for critical focus, which you can activate by sliding a button along the back of the front. Sliding the button to the right pops up the magnifying lens. Pushing it down will lock it out of position. The light chimney has hinges on the side that must be squeezed together to close the viewfinder.

You can change to a different viewfinder by pressing a chrome button between the strap lug and film locking lug. Once the button is pressed, slide the viewfinder forward to remove it. You can also remove and change the focus screen by pressing the same chrome button and lifting the focusing screen. Put the focus screen back, line up the red dot on the camera with the red dot on the focusing screen, and drop the screen back into place. Pressing the chrome button to seat the focusing screen into position. You can slide the viewfinder back on, and it will lock into position once it's pushed back onto the camera.

The collar on the body must be turned counterclockwise to remove the lens. Before moving the collar, you'll need to wind the camera so the camera is in the "cocked" position and the mirror is down. You can move the collar somewhat, but until you slide the lens locking button back, the collar won't move the entire way to remove the lens. To put the lens back onto the camera, you'll line up the red mark on the lens to the red mark on the camera body, and turn the collar clockwise to lock the lens back onto the camera body.

To open the back to load film, turn the lever on the bottom of the camera to the "O" position, and the back of the camera unlocks. Lift the back door, which exposes the film chamber. Bring the empty reel from the bottom of the chamber to the top, which will now be your take-up spool. Pull out the film locking knobs on the side of the camera to put in the empty spool and the new roll of film you're loading into the camera. Bring the leader up to the empty spool and thread the lead into the slot and turn the winding knob on the right side of the camera to take up the loose film. There ia a handle built into the winding knob to make the turning of the knob easier. Keep winding until the "start" arrow points to the red dots on the sides of the shutter, close the back, and continue to wind until the winding lever stops. At this point, the frame counter will be on number one, and you're ready to start taking photos.

 The Kowa Six MM will take either 120 or 220 film. If you plan on shooting 220 film, be sure to change the pressure plate to the proper position, and on the side of the camera, make sure you've selected "24" on the selector between the strap lug and frame counter on the right side of the camera. Selecting 24 tells the camera you're shooting 24 images on 220 film instead of 12 exposures on 120 film.

You can also lock the mirror "up" by turning the knob on the right side of the camera to the "up" position. This function reduced camera vibration. You can also do double or multiple exposures on the Kowa Six MM. To do so, after your fist image, turn the knob on the top of right side of the camera from the orange dot and orange line which is for normal film advance to the red dot and red line. This is disengaging the film advance so you can do multiple exposures. Once you're done, turn the dial back to the orange dot and line position, and the film will advance.

As I mentioned, my Kowa Six MM camera has a side bracket, making it easy to hold and handle. Still, I didn't realize how nice this grip was when I went to take it off. Not only is there a nut that hold the bracket onto the camera, but there also a screw that locks the nut into place so it doesn't accidentally get unscrewed and have the camera fall off the grip.

My Results:

Since the clouds were moving in and out, I didn't want to shoot a slow-speed film, so I loaded the Kowa Six MM with a roll of Ilford 125 ISO film and proceeded to walk through the neighborhood, focusing on many of the spring flowers that have been blooming this time of year. After walking around, I went home and processed the film. Here are the results from my walk through the neighborhood.

My Conclusion.

WOW!!! Was I wrong for so many years? This camera worked fantastically and was fun to use. The viewfinder was bright, the magnifier was easy to use, the shutter speeds sounded accurate, and having the shutter speed, aperture ring, and focus all in the same spot was fantastic.

 The film advance was smooth, and carrying the camera with the grip made it very comfortable. I understand why the technician who coveted the Kowa liked the camera so much. The system offers nine lenses from 19mm to 500mm, different viewfinders and focusing screens, so it's complete. The price of these cameras is less than half of Hasselblad's, and they are smaller and easier to handle. I'll keep this camera for a while and see if I can expand the lenses I have for it. While I like the wide-angle lenses, getting an 85mm standard lens would be nice and slightly cut down on the weight.

 I love to hear from the people who read my posts. If you have a question or comment, please let me know. I'm always looking for ways to improve this experience.

 Until next week, please be safe.

KMZ FT-2 Panoramic Camera

Since I got into photography, I have been a fan of panoramic cameras and images. The ability to see wide views of subjects similar to what you see in person seems very natural, so it's not unrealistic for me to have a variety of cameras to use during trips and other photographic jaunts I take to make images.

My KMZ FT-2 Camera

I came across a Russian-made KMZ FT-2 camera many years ago when I was a sales representative for one of the companies I worked for. I remember visiting EP Levine in Waltham, MA, and seeing the FT-2 and a Spinshot they had. I asked about the Spinshot because, at the time, I knew the Spinshot was something out of my price range. One of the owners gave me a reasonable price on the camera and case because, like many of these cameras, they take a unique film cassette, which this camera didn't have. I knew at that time I was buying it more for my collection rather than using it, but always in the back of my mind, it was something I wanted to put a roll of film into and shoot with. 

The Company:

KMZ (Krasnogorsky Zavod), also known as the Krasnogorsk Mechanical Works, is a prominent camera and optical equipment manufacturer based in Russia. Founded in 1942 in the city of Krasnogorsk, near Moscow, KMZ played a significant role in the Soviet Union's photographic and optical industries. Initially established to support wartime needs, the company shifted its focus to producing civilian products, becoming a key player in developing photographic technology in the Soviet era.

FT-2 camera, leather case and 2 different 3D printed cassettes

 KMZ became widely known for producing cameras and optical devices for civilian and military use. One of its most famous products is the Zenit series of single-lens reflex cameras, which gained a strong reputation for their durability and affordability. First introduced in the late 1940s, the Zenit cameras became popular among amateur photographers and professionals worldwide, especially during the mid-20th century. These cameras were equipped with reliable optics, often branded under the Helios or Jupiter trademarks, known for their exceptional image quality.

Another well-known KMZ product is the Zorki rangefinder cameras, which were modeled after early Leica designs. The Zorki cameras, like the Zenit series, were affordable and accessible, making photography more attainable for the average user. These cameras are now considered collector's items, valued for their vintage appeal and craftsmanship.

 KMZ also contributed to advancements in optical engineering. The company developed lenses for photography, cinema, and scientific applications, as well as optical sights and instruments for military use. The Helios-44 lens, often paired with Zenit cameras, became legendary for its unique bokeh effect and remains highly sought after by enthusiasts.

 Following the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991, KMZ faced challenges adapting to a market economy. While the demand for traditional film cameras declined with the rise of digital photography, KMZ continued producing optical devices and exploring new markets. The Zenit brand was revived by introducing modern digital cameras like the Zenit M, which combines vintage aesthetics with contemporary technology.

KMZ's contributions to the photographic and optical fields testify to its innovation and resilience. Despite economic and technological shifts, the company remains a symbol of Soviet ingenuity, with its cameras and lenses appreciated by photographers and collectors worldwide.

The Camera:

The KMZ FT-2, one of the first 35mm panoramic cameras, is a model of simplicity in design. Its bare-bones appearance, resembling a small black brick, belies its robust mechanical construction. The camera measures 4.75" wide by 3.25" deep by 2.25" tall, including the winding knob, and weighs 1 lb. 7oz. The FT-5 boasts a 50mm fixed F5 lens that swings across the curved film plane to produce 110mm long images on your 35mm film. This unique design eliminates barrel distortion, ensuring your horizontal lines remain straight when holding the camera level. However, due to the extended negative size, 24mm x 110mm rather than the typical 24mm x 36mm, you only get 12 images on a roll of 36 exposures, a testament to the camera's straightforward and uncomplicated nature.

 The FT-2 only has 3 shutter speeds: 1/400, 1/200, and 1/100 second. The shutter speeds are set by changing two levers on top of the camera and located just below the shutter cocking lever. The shutter cocking lever is a larger finger and thumb knob, which you turn clockwise to cock the shutter, and it swings back to the starting position at approximately 11:00 when the exposure is finished. A mechanical braking system slows the shutter to these speeds when shooting at the two slower speeds. When shooting at the maximum speed, the camera jolts when the exposure ends and has a reasonably noisy snap when the shutter spins on its axis and comes to a vibrating finish of the exposure. The shutter release is to the right of the shutter cocking knob and just above the frame counter.

Since the camera produces such a long negative, the manual states that you need to turn the winding lever so that the frame counter does three full revolutions around, then add one number to get to the next frame. So, if you were on frame number 5, after taking the photo, you'd turn the winding lever, watch the frame counter go three revolutions around, and then stop at number 6 to be ready for that photo.

Top view of KMZ FT-2 camera where all the controls are located.

 There is no optical viewfinder, but rather a flip-up mask that you put your eye up to and guess that that's the approximate area that will be in your photo. There is a bubble level on top of the camera, so it's easy to level out the photos. This is not so helpful when looking through the viewfinder, but if you use the camera on a tripod or hold it more at waist level, then it makes sense.

 To open the back of the camera to load film, the front of the camera, in both corners, are silver clips holding the back close to the front. Snap these clips out, and holding the back with one hand and the body with the other, you slide the back off the camera. To put the back onto the camera, there are small channels on the body that the back fits into to slide back onto the camera. Make sure the back fits into the channel slide, then back onto the camera, and snap the clips into position.

Using the Camera:

Fast forward about 25 years, and I pulled the FT-2 out of my shelf and started to play with it. The camera is in excellent mechanical shape, so I wondered if there's a way to adapt a regular 35mm film cassette into the camera for shooting with it. Doing my usual looking on the internet to see what advancements have been made, I came across Roger Hyam's website discussing how he had the same camera and  1 set of cassettes. To make the camera more enjoyable, having multiple cassettes would make shooting with the camera more manageable. Since loading the cassettes is time-consuming, he made film cassettes for his FT-2 with a 3D printer. In that article, he has a CAD design and explains the process.

 At this point, seeing that there is a somewhat easy way to get cassettes made for the camera, I looked into buying a 3D printer for this and possibly other projects down the road. While I still may do that, I found a local company close to my house that does 3d printing, Rex Plastics in Vancouver, WA., and Harvey, one of the engineers who does the 3D printing for the company. I called on a Friday to see if they could do this and sent them the CAD file. While Harvey was off that day, I received a call from him early Monday to say that this could be done fairly easily, and they had produced a Minolta 16 cassette and a 126 film cassette someone else needed, so he was familiar with working with film. 

 On Thursday or Friday, I stopped by Rex Plastics to pick up the cassettes I had ordered, which looked tremendous. They fit into the camera and looked like the items I saw online. I took them home and started to load film into the cassettes, only to find that the design I sent had a minor flaw. Once there was film in the cassettes, the amount of film pushed the knob of the spool through the top of the cassette, making it impossible to fit back into the camera. 

 I told Harvey what the issue was and brought it back to him with film inside to show him the issue. Rex Plastics is such a good company that Harvey said it wasn't a big issue and went back and made the spool smaller to accommodate the film capacity and changed the cassette top to accommodate a different spool that fits into the cassette. This took just a few days, and now I had cassettes I could take home and shoot with the FT-2 camera. One thing I did to the 3D-printed cassettes was to add some felt to the inside cassette to avoid any scratches that may happen when transporting the film from one cassette to the other. I took some old 35mm canisters, pulled the felt off them, and taped them into the 3D-printed cassettes with double-sided tape.

Loading the Cassettes:

Here's the process I used to load the new 3D-printed cassettes with film to put into the FT-2 camera. Most of this process has to be done in complete darkness. I used my light-tight changing bag, which I use to load film onto reels for processing, but this time, here are the items I needed to keep in the changing bag.

 2-3D printed cassettes

1 roll of 35mm film (unexposed)

1 piece of tape taped to one of the spools

1-pencil used to wind film

1-FT-2 camera with the back partially off

 I'll break this down into the steps I used. You may find an easier way, but this process went much quicker than I thought and seemed manageable.

 

  1. Out in the daylight, I took the leader from the unexposed 35mm film and taped it onto the take-up spool. I then took up some of the slack and put it into one of the 3D-printed cassettes. This is what you can do in the light; all the other steps are done in the changing bag.

  2. Put all the items from the above list into the changing bag.

  3. At this point, I wound all the film from the unexposed film into the take-up spool until I reached the end of the roll. To make the winding easier, I put a pencil into the end of the spool and turned the pencil. Do this for step 7, too.

  4. Tear the end of the film of the unexposed film from its cartridge.

  5. Open the second cassette and tape the end of the unexposed film to the spool of the second 3D-printed cassette.

  6. Slide the spool into the second 3D-printed cassette and put it on the cover.

  7. Rewind the exposed film from the first cassette into the second cassette.

  8. Once you feel the leader, stop winding. Now, you have all your unexposed film into the second cassette.

  9. Put both cassettes into the back of the camera. 

  10. Make sure the winding knob is engaged into the first 3D printed cassette and starts to wind, making sure the film is moving across the film path.

  11. You don't need to wind much, just enough to ensure the film is transporting.

  12. Put the back of the camera on the loaded camera and snap closed.

 

Now, you can open the changing bag, remove the film-loaded camera, and wind it to the first frame, which should only take a few turns.

 PLEASE REMEMBER: When you're at the end of the roll, you don't rewind it back into the cassette like a standard 35mm camera. You take the camera and load it back into the changing bag so you can load it onto your developing tank for processing. If you wanted to wind hard enough to pull the tape off one spool onto the other, you could do that, but that risks exposing the film if you don't tape the cassettes closed.

My Results:

With the camera loaded into my newly made 3D printed film cassettes and the sun shining on a typically overcast November afternoon, there was a chill in the air and a panoramic camera in my hands. I walked through my neighborhood to see what the camera would produce. After taking the photos, I was excited to see the results, so I loaded the camera, developing tank, and reels into the changing bag. I took the film out of the camera, loaded it onto the developing reel, put it in my developing tank, and processed the negatives. 

The overexposed area on the left of the images must have caused a slight light leak. Here's what I produced.

Conclusion:

What a fun camera! I really enjoyed using it. Loading the cassettes wasn't as big of an issue as others I've read about make it out to be if you think about the process. If you have one and need technical or repair information, I found this very informative website, The FT-2 Panoramic Camera Guide.

If you have one and need cassettes, don't hesitate to get in touch with Harvey at Rex Plastics. I'm confident he can print some for you, and they can ship them to you.

Thank you for taking some time from your day to read about this fun panoramic camera that produces excellent images. 

Until next week, please be safe.

References:

The FT-2 Panoramic Camera Guide: https://lens-club.ru/public/files/pdfs/4e9b2081c1c77ede9e70d985d6bacc5d.pdf

FT-2 Camera Manual: https://cameramanuals.org/russian_pdf/russian_ft-2_panaromic.pdf

Roger Hyam’s Website: https://www.hyam.net/blog/archives/10727

Rex Plastics: https://rexplastics.com/3d-printing-and-plastic-product-design