Canon IV Sb camera

My Canon IV Sb camera

Being a lifelong Nikon shooter, along with working in the retail photo industry for nearly 20 years during the 1970s, I became very tired of Canon's dominance and marketing strategy around the Canon AE-1, which was the "hottest" camera around when it was released in 1976.

The Canon AE-1 was under restricted distribution, meaning demand far outstripped supply, and the camera was extremely sought after. There were people waiting months to get the camera. I say this because, as someone who was hounded almost daily for the camera, I started to dislike the brand.

Don't get me wrong, their cameras are decent, and even when they dominated the digital world with the 5D, 5D Mark II, and other cameras, it still irked me that they sold so many units. I was tired of them—especially as a member of the gold-and-black team (Nikon).

In Canon's early years, they made some extremely well-made and sought-after cameras, the Canon IV Sb being one of them. Companies like Nikon, Nicca, Minolta, and Leotax made some of the better rangefinder cameras coming from Japan during this timeframe. They competed well with the more sought-after German companies of Leica, Zeiss, and Voigtländer.

I enjoy the early font on the Canon name.

I say this because I've owned Canon rangefinder cameras in the past. Still, because of my past biases, I rarely look for them unless one comes up at a very good price or is included in a group lot I've purchased.

It's interesting that while Canon rangefinders have produced some amazing products—especially the extremely fast Canon 50mm f/0.95 lens—their cameras are generally priced less than their Nikon counterparts, which produced more "professional" products during the 1950s–1990s.

Fast forward to this week's blog on cameras in my collection: the Canon IV Sb, included in the camera lot I purchased in Las Vegas about a month ago. The camera is in very good condition, except for a repaired blemish on the second shutter curtain. The lens is bright and clear; the rangefinder is clean, bright, and seems accurate; the chrome shows no tarnish; and all shutter speeds sound accurate, even the slower ones.

It's been quite some time since I ran film through one, so I figured now was a good time to put a roll of expired Plus-X 20-exposure film from my gaggle of film in, walk through the neighborhood, and take some photos.

History:

Canon started in 1933 in a small room in Tokyo's Roppongi district, where four men—Goro Yoshida, Saburo Uchida, Takeshi Mitarai, and Takeo Maeda—founded the Precision Optical Instruments Laboratory. Their goal was simple and ambitious: build a Japanese camera that could stand up to Germany's best. At the time, all the fine cameras came from Europe.

Canon IV Sb advertisment.

Their first effort, built in 1934, was the Kwanon, named after the Buddhist goddess of mercy. It was Japan's first 35mm focal-plane-shutter camera and only a prototype—it never went on sale. Yoshida had studied a Leica II to figure out how it all worked. In 1936, the company released its first commercial camera, the Hansa Canon, which became known by the name we'd all come to know. Since the little company couldn't make its own lenses yet, the earliest Canons shipped with Nikkor lenses from Nippon Kogaku—yes, Nikon. The two companies that would become lifelong rivals started as customer and supplier.

The company became Canon Camera Co. in 1947, and just Canon Inc. in 1969. Through the 1950s, it built fine rangefinders, but the future was the SLR. Canon's first one, the Canonflex, arrived in 1959. Then, in 1961, the Canonet arrived: a fixed-lens rangefinder that became one of the best-selling cameras of its day—a real people's camera.

The 1970s were Canon's big decade. The F-1 of 1971 was its first true professional system camera, and the new FD lens mount gave it its own mount. But the camera that changed everything was the AE-1 in 1976—the first 35mm SLR with a microprocessor inside. It was cheap, easy to use, and sold in the millions, putting real SLRs into the hands of ordinary shooters.

In 1987, Canon made its boldest move: the EOS system and the all-electronic EF mount. The old FD lenses wouldn't fit, which angered plenty of loyalists. Still, the clean-slate design let Canon leap ahead in autofocus. It was the right bet. Canon rode the autofocus era into the digital age with the EOS D30 in 2000, then broke new ground in 2005 with the EOS 5D, the first affordable full-frame digital camera.

Today, Canon's EF mount has given way to the RF mirrorless mount, introduced with the EOS R in 2018. From a four-person workshop in Roppongi to a photography giant, Canon got there by doing what its founders set out to do: build cameras for everyone, not just professionals.

The Camera:

My Canon IV Sb came with a Canon 50mm f/1.8 lens and is similar in size to some Leicas, like the IIIB and others from the same era. The camera measures 5.5 inches wide by 3.75 inches tall and 2.75 inches deep, and weighs 1 pound, 11.7 ounces. The serial number on my body is 122236, and the lens is 100470.

My camera is marked "E.P." in red, surrounded by a red diamond on the top plate. This doesn't necessarily make the camera more or less valuable than others. Still, it marks the camera as most likely purchased at a U.S. military base, identifying the camera and lens as duty-free or tax-free when imported into the U.S.

The Canon IV Sb was introduced in December 1952 and was available until the upgraded IV Sb2 was marketed in March 1954. The camera has an M39/LTM lens mount and offered either a Serenar or Canon f/1.8 or f/1.5 lens as a standard option.

The 50mm lens I have features the aperture ring on the outer knurled ring, with settings from f/1.8 to f/16. It has a locking lever, like other LTM lenses, that locks when focused at infinity, with a minimum focusing distance of 3.5 feet.

The camera has a vertical-traveling cloth shutter, with speeds from 1/1000 to 1/25 on the top shutter speed dial, and from 1/25 to 1 second (plus "B" for time exposures) on the secondary shutter speed dial on the front face of the camera. One distinguishing feature of the Canon IV Sb is the ability to lock the front secondary shutter speed dial with a small tab on top.

Like other cameras from this period, the film advance is a round knob that rotates clockwise to cock the shutter and advance the film to the next frame. Inside the film winding knob is a reminder dial to set the film speed (there is no meter in the camera, so this is just a personal reminder). The frame counter is on the bottom of the film advance knob and must be set manually when you load a roll of film into the camera.

The shutter release is on top of the camera, just left of the film advance knob. Above the shutter release is the film rewind lever, which is lowered for normal film operation and flipped up to the "R" position to rewind the roll into the cassette when it's finished.

The Canon IV Sb also has an accessory shoe on top for auxiliary viewfinders. On the far left side of the camera is the film rewind knob, which can be pulled up to make the rewind process easier when you've exhausted the full roll of film.

Just below the rewind knob is the viewfinder selector lever with F, 1x, and 1.5x settings, allowing you to magnify the viewfinder for use with 50mm, 100mm, or 150mm lenses. By choosing different magnifications, it slides a magnifying lens into the finder to replicate the crop for your chosen focal length. It's a great feature, and I really enjoyed it.

The camera body has no standard flash sync port, as the Canon IV Sb uses a proprietary flash connection system for bulb or electronic flash. The downside is that all contacts are made through a sliding bar on the camera's left side. Without the Canon Flash Unit Model Y and its accessories, traditional flash isn't readily available.

To load film into the camera—similar to other rangefinders of this era—unlatch the lock on the bottom plate and pull it off, exposing the film chamber and take-up spool. Pull out the take-up spool, thread the lead from a fresh roll of film into it, and slide both the spool and the film canister into the camera body. Take up the slack of the film with the film rewind lever and advance the film to the first frame. Reset the frame counter to one and start taking photos.

My Results:

I loaded the camera with an expired roll of Plus-X that expired in June 1976. I like shooting this film because it has only 20 exposures, so I don't waste extra film when shooting for the blog.

Conclusion:

The camera did a wonderful job and was fun to use. I really enjoyed the bright rangefinder focusing, and the ability to magnify the image through the viewfinder for the 100mm and 150mm lenses makes this a wonderful user camera. It would have been great if they'd also included a wider viewfinder window for wide-angle lenses, but that may be asking too much, especially for a camera made over 70 years ago.

For this period, I still prefer Nikon rangefinder cameras and completely understand why professionals chose them alongside Leica. While the Canon IV Sb is easy to use, its flash system is unusual for the time and forces photographers to use its proprietary ecosystem.

Are you interested in other cameras? Check out some of my other Camera Reviews.

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

You can also visit Cuny's Cameras and Photos, my online eBay store, where you'll find some of the cameras I've reviewed, along with a wide range of other cameras, lenses, and photography items from my collection that I'm thinning out.

Until next week, please be safe.

Kolar Kola camera

My Kolar Kola camera

I didn’t write a blog post last week because I was in Tokyo camera shopping and hoping to find something odd and unusual to write about in the coming weeks. I was successful in that search, and this week’s camera is one I bought at one of my favorite used camera stores in Japan, Kitamura Camera in the Shinjuku area of Tokyo. Kitamura has several locations, but this was their flagship store.

 Kitamura Camera is an impressive multi-floor store with just about everything a camera lover could want, from a photo studio to film sales and processing. The most impressive parts for me were the two used-camera floors. The fourth floor had an outstanding collection of rare Leica cameras and lenses, Nikon rangefinders and lenses, Hasselblad gear, and other medium format cameras and lenses. The third floor was where I spent the most time. That was their bargain floor, with many lesser-known cameras and others that were not quite perfect.

 They also had Leicas and Nikons there, but some had small defects or were not fully functional. These were not the kind of “junk” cameras you often see in used camera stores, where lenses have fungus and shutters no longer fire. These were cameras most people would probably buy for parts, but Kitamura still presented them in a much more appealing way.

 That third floor is where I found this week’s camera: an odd cube-shaped camera called the Kola. I had never heard of it before. When I checked it out, the lens was clean, the shutter fired at all speeds, the film spools were still in the camera, and the price was very reasonable.

Back side of my Kolar Kola camera

 At first glance, I thought it might be a 127 film camera because of the film spools, but the frame size was marked 24 x 36, which meant it was a 35mm camera. That made me think it may have used paper-backed 35mm film, similar to the way some Bolta cameras were loaded.

It was certainly unusual enough to catch my attention, so I bought it along with a few other treasures from the shop. I planned to do the research later, but for the moment I set it aside and kept exploring the store. I knew I would be back before leaving Japan.

 Later that day, back at my hotel, the first camera I pulled out was the Kola. I wanted to know more about it right away. I soon learned that the camera was made in Czechoslovakia by a small and relatively obscure camera maker in the 1930s.

 Many examples I found online show Kola cameras in a 4 x 4 cm format on 127 film. Some earlier versions have a barrel lens, and the lenses I found were usually marked f/3.5 or f/4.5. I also found references to a paper-backed 35mm version. In my research, I saw that some Kola cameras used special 35mm cassettes and a different geared spool, but that spool arrangement did not match the camera I own.

 Here is a little more about the maker.

History

Václav Kolář was a significant, if short-lived, figure in prewar Czechoslovak camera manufacturing. Based in the Modřany district of Prague, Kolář operated his workshop during a period of experimentation and innovation in European photography. In the 1930s, small makers like Kolář were trying to compete with German giants such as Zeiss Ikon and Voigtländer.

 Kolář’s history appears to have been one of rapid innovation followed by financial difficulty. His company focused on precision engineering and often produced cameras that were mechanically sophisticated for their price point. However, the economic pressure of the Great Depression and fierce competition from Germany eventually led to bankruptcy in the mid-1930s. Today, his cameras are considered hidden gems of Central European camera history, prized for their rarity and distinctive design.

 His product line was surprisingly varied for such a small workshop. One of his best-known cameras was the Kola-Diar, a box-shaped roll-film camera. It was designed to be compact and practical, often using 127 film or unperforated 35mm film, which later gave it a bit of a spy-camera reputation among collectors. It featured a collapsing lens mount and a rugged build that stood out from the folding cameras of the period.

 Another notable model was the Kola-Flex, a twin-lens reflex camera made largely of Bakelite. Unlike many pseudo-TLR cameras of the era, the Kola-Flex often featured gear-linked lenses, allowing for more accurate focusing through the top viewfinder. Kolář also produced the Kolex, a traditional folding plate camera, and the Box-Reflex, an entry-level Bakelite model. These cameras were typically fitted with lenses bearing Kolář’s own names, such as Rekolar, Kolyt, and Kolar-Anastigmat, and were often paired with reliable German shutters like the Vario or Compur.

 Kolář’s legacy lies in his pioneering work in the Czech tradition of fine mechanical camera building. His designs showed that Czechoslovak workshops could produce serious photographic equipment, helping lay the groundwork for the later nationalized industry that would produce the Flexaret series.

My Camera

My Kolar Kola camera measures 3.5 inches wide, 3 inches tall, and 2.75 inches deep. It weighs 1 pound, 1.7 ounces, and has serial number 740 stamped into the back of the camera. It is fitted with a Schneider Xenon 5cm f/2.9 lens in a Comur-Rapid shutter. The shutter speeds range from 1/500 second to 1 second, with T and B settings for timed and bulb exposures. There is a cable release socket next to the shutter cocking lever on the top of the shutter, and the shutter release is positioned low at about the 8 o’clock position.

In my research, I found that many Kola cameras use a helical focus system mounted behind the shutter mechanism, but mine is a front-element focus model, meaning the lens itself rotates. Focus distances are marked on the outer ring of the lens in meters.

On top of the camera, from left to right, there is a large winding knob that advances the film clockwise. In the middle is a very small optical viewfinder, which is especially hard for me to use since I wear glasses. To the right of that are two small raised openings that can accept a cold shoe, much like the Nagle Pupille camera. An accessory rangefinder can be mounted there for critical focus.

 To the right of the cold-shoe area is the frame counter, located inside the knob that holds the film in place. Behind the frame counter is a small round indicator attached to the wheel inside the film chamber. As the film moves across that wheel during winding, the indicator turns, and each full rotation advances the frame counter.

The more I look at this camera, the more similarities I see between the Kola and the Nagel Pupille camera. Both have helical-focus variations, both offer an accessory shoe for a rangefinder, and both have a solid, well-made feel.

 To open the back and load film, there are two clips on either side of the camera that hold the back to the body. Pull those clips back, and the rear cover slides off, exposing the film chamber.

This is where the camera becomes especially interesting. There were already two spools inside, and they were just a little shorter than a 127 spool. The exposed frame area is 24 x 36, so the camera is definitely a 35mm model. My first idea was to use 127 backing paper with bulk-loaded 35mm film, but when I tried the 127 spools, they actually fit into the camera. Not perfectly, since the winding and holding knobs sit slightly higher, perhaps by about 1/16 inch, but they did fit.

I removed the 35mm spools that came with the camera and loaded it with 127 film I already had. On the back of the camera there is a red window, so I hoped I would be able to see the numbers pass by as I took pictures. If not, I could use the frame counter and the rotating wheel to estimate the proper spacing for 35mm-sized exposures on a roll of 127 film. I knew there would be some waste because the 127 film is wider than the image area the camera is using.

On the bottom of the camera there is a hinged door that allows the spools to be inserted into the body. The 35mm spools that came with the camera are too wide to fit through that opening, so if I were to use paper-backed 35mm film, I would need to open the hinged door to get the spools inside. The door is secured by a sliding latch that locks it in place.

Once the 127 film was loaded, I slid the back onto the camera body, latched the two clips, and headed out to make some photographs.

Results

With a roll of 127 film loaded, I walked through the neighborhood taking photos of the usual subjects to see how the Kola performed. At first, I guessed at the distance between frames, and that worked well enough. The frame counter behaved exactly as expected.

 Here are the results from my neighborhood walk.

Conclusion

WOW! I was very impressed with the sharpness and ease of use of this camera. The viewfinder is small and a bit difficult to use, especially for me since I wear glasses, but the sharpness of the images and the smooth film advance made up for the camera’s quirks.

 It would have been better to shoot 35mm film, since that would have avoided wasting image area the way 127 film does here. However, the hassle of paper-backed 35mm film, plus the unusual spool setup, made the wasted film area easier to accept.

 I am still puzzled by this particular Kola. It has a faster f/2.9 lens than the f/3.5 or f/4.5 lenses I found in my research, and it is also a 35mm version with spools that differ from those that came with the camera. That mystery makes it even more interesting to me.

 I am really happy with the results this Kola camera produced, and I am glad I found such a special camera on my trip to Tokyo.

 Here are my other Camera Reviews.

 Stop by Cuny’s Cameras and Photos to see what I have for sale in my eBay online store. It is filled with camera accessories, and you may even find a camera or two that I have reviewed in the past.

 Thank you for taking the time to learn about this small powerhouse of a camera made by a company in Czechoslovakia for such a short period of time. I am very happy to have one in my collection.

 Until next week, please be safe.