I know about the curse because I lived the first part (desiring the XPan) for years. And I’ve witnessed the last parts (selling and regretting) again and again each time I looked up reviews of the camera. The analog community is full of regretful people and of cautionary tales about this camera. To succumb to the curse is to gamble, to place a bet on being the right audience. It’s a life-altering decision, and why it took me all that time to pull the trigger and spend the most money I’ve ever spent on a camera. Which was now two years ago.

Did I break the curse? Well, I didn’t sell my XPan. Because it’s the greatest camera in the world.

But let’s get back to the beginning (last chance to turn back).

What is the Hasselblad XPan

When trying to explain the XPan to my non-photographic friends, I fall back to the classic Portal 2 quote, “Science is not about why, it’s about why not?”

At some point in the mid 1990s, somewhere between Fujifilm Japan and Hasselblad Sweden a team of people decided that they should try their hand at making a 35mm panoramic camera. Not a semi-toy camera like the Russian Horizon, and not a medium format hack like the 35mm Mamiya 7 back. No, they wanted to create a true, laser focused, state of the art panoramic camera for 35mm film. This goal was the driving force in the creation of what would be known as the Fuji TX-1 in Japan and the Hasselblad Xpan in the rest of the world.

Looking at the body in hand, everything has been perfectly engineered to serve one unique purpose and vision. They made a double length metal shutter, used bespoke medium format lenses for maximum coverage and minimum distortion, and built a one of kind panoramic viewfinder. And because it was the XPan was to be a late-90s, best of the best sort of camera, they added every feature that technology allowed: a flawless light meter, exposure compensation, burst mode, everything that 1990s photographers could dream of (except a LCD speed readout in the viewfinder, but we’ll get to that).

They had crafted both the best and only true panoramic 35mm camera in the world. It was a folly of engineering and hubris, a 1-kilogram beast, and I would wager that they didn’t even know who would want it, or what they’d do with it. “If you build it, they will come.” I don’t know if the Xpan met sales expectations (a few tens of thousands were made across two generations of the camera), but they built it. I believe, and will continue to believe, that they made that camera just to prove that they could.

My Personal XPan

I was terrified to get one. For years, I watched endless reviews on YouTube and marveled at high-res pictures on various websites. But I also read one too many blog posts about people realizing that once they shot a couple of landscapes with it, they had no use for the thing and promptly sold it. So, I didn’t buy in. I lusted, like a kid in the streets in front of a candy shop. Maybe one day.

Then the pandemic happened. Months shut in with my good old Minolta SLR as an unlikely companion. I took several rolls of pictures of these months, of daily life at home, of empty streets and long weekends with my partner. On some level, photography made all of this more bearable and the pictures we made were made of all the best memories of these troubled times. This is when I made up my mind. If taking pictures helped me, if this hobby had healing properties (as this website has shown time and time again), I needed to know. I had to make sure. If the XPan was “for” me, then I shouldn’t hesitate anymore. Setting some money aside every month, I started to look for one.

Securing my personal Hasselblad XPan could be an entire article in itself, but I finally found one in a remote city in the middle of nowhere, France. The owner had it from his uncle, who only used it in her studio. The camera was immaculate, not a single dreaded paint chip anywhere to be seen. And, he was selling it with two of the three lenses that were made for the system: a 45mm all-purpose kit lens and the portrait-friendly 90mm.

I will not disclose how much I paid but the (low) price never fails to shock my good friends at the Nation Photo lab (which developed and scanned every picture in this article). The catch: both lenses had early fungus (please do not store several thousands bucks worth of camera gear in your damp countryside basement). Fortunately, Paris is the home of Les Victors, previously known as Hasselblad France. When Hassy left the country, the team stayed and are now the best place to buy and repair Hasselblad cameras. And, for a couple hundreds euros, I was able to get my Xpan serviced and its lenses cleaned of all fungus!

The XPan in Use

Leaving Les Victors, the XPan weighed heavily in my hands. It truly is a beast. You have to grab it by both hands if you hope to keep it steady. The weight also makes it feel important in your hands, both massive and fragile at the same time. The on/off switch is so tiny, and sometimes I have to check twice if I’ve turned it on. Both lenses I own are gorgeous, ultra-compact, solidly made, with satisfying aperture clicks. The viewfinder is large and bright, even if I came to distrust the frame lines, forcing me to always step back a little to make sure I will have everything on the final image (the technician did check and told me everything was fine).

My one and only gripe is that I wish I was able to see the aperture-priority selected speed in the viewfinder instead of on the LCD back (an oversight fixed on the subsequent XPan II). Pressing the shutter button takes the picture, which is logical but also all I can really write about the picture taking process. Which means that using the XPan is not a particularly pleasant experience, on a tactile and mechanical level. I love feeling custom-made ebony wood handle I’ve added to the body under my fingers, and I can appreciate the premium materials of the camera, but shooting a picture is just that, shooting a picture.

The Xpan is not a fetishistic camera the way my Minolta SLR or my TLR are, where I revel in the mechanical intricacies of using it, feeling every gear turn and lever actuate. The XPan is more akin to a laser scalpel. It’s made to do one thing and to do that one thing better than anyone else. And it shows on the final image: the high resolutions scans I’m able to get from this are breathtaking, the medium format depth of field I can get with the 90mm lenses is out of this world. I’ve made 1-meter-long prints with pixel perfect details, and I also enjoyed the most amazing-looking slide negatives of my photographic life. This is an end-result oriented camera. You want it for the images you’ll get, not the actual experience of using it (and don’t get me started on hiking with this monster in my backpack).

Which brings us to the actual question of this whole business: do I like it? Does this bring joy, as they say?

Before I stumbled on what would become my own Hasselblad XPan, I almost bought another copy of the camera. But at the last minute something came up and I couldn’t meet the buyer, we had to cancel the deal. He told me that this was a sign he was waiting for: he could not part with this camera. He felt it in his heart that selling would be a mistake, and while he would have sold it to me that day, every fiber of his being told him not to. He would have fallen victim to the final curse of the XPan, if fate hadn’t intervened. And he was right.

I will never part with this camera. If (when) it breaks and it can’t be repaired anymore, I will buy another one, and another one, until all of them are broken for all time. I’ll buy another and another at all costs. Because not only is this my dream camera, but I also make good use of it.

I did not fall into the landscape trap, I didn’t decide to let it sit on the shelf (and get fungus again). The trick is just grabbing it before I go, taking it with me and finding ways to put it to work. Place my eyes enough times on that viewfinder until I can see the frame lines in real life. It’s just a question of rewiring your brain, rewiring the way you view the world. A dream camera does that to you, it changes you. And sharing pictures is a way for me to share the way I see things, through my XPan. I feel proud writing this, and prouder if any of you made it this far into this review. But I also feel ashamed, as I’ve once again done the dark biddings of Fujifilm and Hasselblad.

I’ve cursed you. The way the previous articles, blog posts and reviews cursed me.

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Our guest posts are submitted by amazing photographers and writers all over the world.

Today’s Guest Post was submitted by…

Matthias Jambon-Puillet is a marketing executive in the entertainment industry in Paris. After 20+ years of using digital cameras as his main passion and hobby, he rekindled his love for photography by switching to analog. Now the proud owner of way too many cameras and a lifelong stash of frozen fuji color films, he is in the process of figuring out his favorites. A process that is thoroughly documented on his Instagram in real time.

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The Long Road to the Rolleiflex SL66

Throughout the 1940s and 1950s, Rollei enjoyed remarkable success with their immensely popular line of TLR (twin lens reflex) medium format cameras, the high-end Rolleiflexes and the consumer-level Rolleicords. These twin lens reflex cameras were incredibly well-made, featured excellent lenses, and were easily capable of making beautiful images. However, the inherent limitations of the TLR camera meant that Rollei TLR cameras weren’t ideal for a variety of photographic situations or for photographers who needed a more versatile camera. Most TLRs, including Rollei’s cameras, couldn’t offer interchangeable lenses or zoom lenses, most couldn’t achieve very close focusing distances, and they could be slow and cumbersome to use. The answers to many of the troubles of the TLR camera would be found in the SLR camera (single lens reflex). 

At the same time in which Rollei’s cameras were at their peak in popularity, Swedish camera makers at Hasselblad had made great progress in creating a high quality SLR medium format camera. In 1948 they released the Hasselblad 1600 F. While this camera was made in limited numbers and proved to be quite fragile and expensive to produce, it laid the groundwork for what would become one of the most successful cameras in medium format photography. 

In 1953 Hasselblad released a much-improved version of its SLR camera. This was known as the Hasselblad 1000 F. This camera was elegant and refined, could mount numerous exceptional lenses and accessories, and had essentially solved or circumvented nearly all of the limitations of the TLR camera. In 1954, the influential American photography magazine Modern Photography reviewed Hasselblad’s new camera. They shot over 500 rolls of film through the 1000 F and intentionally dropped the camera twice, after which it continued to function perfectly. This did much to improve the reputation of the Hasselblad camera around the world, and excited many photo nerds about the prospect of owning a new SLR medium format camera. 

Seeing that the SLR was certainly a worthy rival, and possibly even a replacement to the TLR camera, Rollei began development of their own medium format SLR camera in 1955. This new Rollei SLR camera was informed by many of the design choices of Hasselblad’s undeniably excellent SLR camera. But Rollei intended to improve on the concept of the Hasselblad SLR in a number of technical ways while continuing their own legacy of extreme robustness in mechanical design. In 1957, however, Victor Hasselblad and Dr. Reinhold Heidecke (heads of Hasselblad and Rollei, respectively) reached an agreement with one another that each man’s company would not compete in the other’s market. This gentlemen’s agreement meant that Hasselblad would not create a TLR camera and Rollei would not create an SLR. 

This is an interesting moment in photographic history, for a few reasons. First, I’ve never found any evidence that Hasselblad was interested in creating a TLR, so it seems that Hasselblad stood to lose nothing by striking this deal. Conversely, Rollei had spent quite a lot of money in the development of their nascent SLR, which in accordance with the new agreement they’d be forced to abandon (or more accurately, “mothball,” as we’ll see). Rollei’s cameras in 1957 were selling extremely well, it’s true, so in the short term at least Rollei may not have perceived this agreement as one which would hobble their business. But most observers would have predicted even in 1957 (two years before Nikon released their first SLR) that SLRs were destined to be the camera of the future. It’s also intriguing that mere months later Hasselblad would release their most successful camera ever – another medium format SLR.

The 1957 release of the Hasselblad 500c would effectively cement Hasselblad as the premier medium format camera-maker for the next sixty years. Indeed, the Hasselblad 500c was in production in various forms until 2013. And this astonishingly long-lived tree of success had its seed planted in 1957, possibly during a handshake between two titans of the photographic industry.

in 1960, Heidecke died, effectively ending the gentlemen’s agreement. By 1962, development of a Rollei medium format SLR was gradually resumed, and in 1964 Rollei’s new general manager, Dr. Heinrich Peesel, urged the company’s designers to have a new SLR camera ready to be unveiled at 1966’s Photokina fair in Cologne.

Lead designers Richard Weiss and Claus Prochnow spent the next two years working to create Rollei’s first ever single lens reflex medium format camera. Importantly (at least for those of us who wonder if the products we’re using were designed and built to the absolute highest standards) the development of the camera cost 3.5 million German Marks, an amount approximate to 9 million US dollars today. The resulting 6×6 camera was unveiled as planned in 1966, and logically named the Rolleiflex SL66.

What is the Rolleiflex SL66

The first sentence in the Rolleiflex SL66 user’s manual succinctly states the intention of Rollei’s designers in making the SL66. It begins, “A camera for experts…” And the Rollei SL66 is indeed that, in ways both good and bad. It’s a camera built for pros, but it’s fully manual nature means that it’s not for the inexperienced or those who aren’t willing to learn.

While the camera’s spec sheet is impressive in that it hints at ultimate capability, what’s most interesting about the SL66 is a select few features and functions which other similar cameras simply don’t have. So, let’s start with these few stand-out features. 

The Rollei SL66 is differentiated from the Hasselblad in a number of ways, the first and most easily recognizable being the focusing mechanism. Where the Hasselblad uses a focusing helicoid in its lenses, the Rollei SL66 uses a bellows system whereby the entire lens is moved closer to or further from the focusing plane. This allows for focusing as close as 5 centimeters. Already we’re seeing the SL66’s improved versatility compared to its closest competitor at the time of its release.

Another thing that sets the Rollei apart is its ability to reverse-mount its lenses without the need of any adapters or special equipment. By simply removing the lens, flipping it around, and mounting it backwards to the lens mount, the camera is able to focus to extreme close distances for macro photography. Increased versatility, again. 

One other unique feature of the SL66 is the camera’s ability to tilt its lens up or down by 8 degrees. This interesting trick is usually only available on large format cameras or through the use of specialized tilt lenses. This tilting lens board mechanism, used in conjunction with the included Scheimpflug indicator (named after the Austrian surveyor T. Scheimpflug who formulated the mathematical rule to calculate depth of field on a tilted focal plane), allows the photographer to actively adjust the plane of focus to increase or decrease depth of field or to selectively focus in ways which other camera systems can’t. In fact, as I type these words I fing it difficult to think of a similarly-sized camera that’s capable of this action.  

Full Specifications of the Rollei SL66

• • Camera Type – Single Lens Reflex
  • Format – 6x6cm (6×4.5cm accessory back); 120/220 Roll Film (220 no longer available)
  • Models – SL66 (1966-1982); SL66E (1982-1986); SL66X (1982-1992); SL66SE (1986-1992)
  • Shutter – Mechanical focal plane shutter; 1/1000th of a second to 1 second; Bulb mode
  • Focusing – Manual focus
  • Viewfinder – Interchangeable focusing screens; Standard waist-level finder with magnification loupe; Optional metering prism (uncoupled)
  • Lenses – from 30mm to 1000mm; Made by Carl Zeiss, Carl Zeiss Jena, Rollei HFT, Novoflex, and Rodenstock; Including two leaf-shutter lenses for flash sync at all speeds (80mm and 150mm)
  • Flash – 2X PC Sockets X anf FP; Flash sync below 1/30th of a second, or at all speeds with leaf shutter-equipped lenses
  • Weight – 1.9kg with 80mm lens; 4lbs 3oz.
  • Dimensions – 156 (width) x 172 (length) x 111 (height) 

These special features, Rollei’s excellent build quality, and the robust general spec sheet all came at a high price – the SL66 cost $1,300 when it debuted. Compared to the Hasselblad’s price point of $750, this made the camera a hard sell. But hey, the thing was made in various types for almost twenty years, after which it was produced until 1992 with additional electronic improvements. Obviously someone liked it. And after using one for the better part of the year I understand why it sold, even at that higher price. 

I should also mention that even today, the Rollei tends to be priced higher than a Hasselblad with the same lens. 

Shooting the Rolleiflex SL66 Today

The Rolleiflex SL66 is heavy. Let’s get that out of the way. To be precise, it weighs 500g more than a Hasselblad 500, but 350 grams less than a Pentax 67. So, in the realm of medium format SLRs it strikes a good balance. And remember that those two cameras can’t do what the SL66 can do, for what it’s worth. And also remember that this weight is the product of Rollei’s fanatical focus on mechanical precision and quality.

It’s genuinely true that there is no camera that feels more solid or confident in the hands. Others may match it, but none are better. The Rolleiflex SL66 is a mechanical work of art made of over 1,000 different components. Its clockwork mechanisms and thickly sturdy construction dichotomously evoke both the compact 35mm Leica camera and Linhof’s large format machines. Or, if we’re reaching for non-photographic comparators, it feels like an enormous mechanical wristwatch without the delicacy; like wearing the clock of Big Ben on the wrist, if such a thing were possible. It feels like a tool, clicking and thunking and ratcheting and clacking. And all the while it looks simply beautiful. 

In practical use, there’s a strange tension between ease and methodology. For those photographers who have used an SLR medium format camera such as this, it will at once feel familiar. However even for these photographers there will be moments of pause.

The common stumble will come from the bellows-style focusing system – but not for every photographer. Rollei’s design has the focusing knob positioned on the left-hand side of the camera, just as in their TLRs. For Hasselblad shooters accustomed to quick focusing with their lens-mounted focusing rings, the Rollei will feel slow. And it is slow, comparatively. But the trade off for this lack of speed is that we’re afforded finer focusing precision, as well as a greater range of focusing distances. As mentioned, some of the Rollei’s lenses allow focusing as close as five centimeters. Just remember not to poke a finger through the exposed bellows material. That would be tragic. In the end, just as with similarly-designed Japanese medium format SLRs, the focusing methodology works fine. Whether it works better than the Hasselblad is, I suppose, a matter of taste. I personally find focusing a Hasselblad easier than the Rollei, but I value the Rollei’s focusing range. It’s a tough call. 

The camera’s focal plane shutter has its pros and cons as well. Versatile speeds, all-mechanical, durable. However, flash sync is only capable at speeds from 1/30th of a second and below. For those photographers who need flash sync at higher speeds, only two lenses are available with leaf shutters. These come in the studio-centric focal lengths of 80mm and 150mm (denoted as having a leaf shutter by the “LS” in their model names). 

The tilt mechanism is intriguing, but getting the desired results from using it can be elusive. The Scheimpflug principal is, after all, a confusing idea for those who haven’t shot large format cameras. The way that I use it is pretty simple (and admittedly a bit naive) – if I’m shooting a subject which is not parallel to the focal plane and if I want the entire subject to be in focus, I use the tilt mechanism and hope for the best. It works some of the time. And in the cases where it doesn’t work entirely, I’ve found the images made in this way are still gorgeous. Unpredictability is one of the delights of shooting film in the modern era. If I wanted clinically perfect photos I’d be shooting whatever Sony mirrorless just released last month. 

Shooting wide open and nailing focus can be a challenge, as with any manual focus camera, I suppose. But with a waist-level finder this is made even more challenging, as precise focus often means raising the camera to the eye and focusing through the magnification loupe. After that, we usually recompose the shot and in doing so it’s possible (likely) that our pin-point critical focus has been lost. This is really more of a note on using any medium format SLR handheld. It’s just tricky without an eye-prism, eye-prisms for the SL66 are expensive, and most SL66s won’t come with one. That said, spend the money and you’ll have effectively eliminated one of the trickiest aspects of using an SL66 in the field.

The mirror mechanism is one of the more advanced ever made. Like in some smaller 35mm cameras, it uses a pneumatic system to minimize mirror shake. When we fire the shutter, the mirror begins its swing slowly, accelerates, and then decelerates at the conclusion of its swing. This makes for a much finer feeling at shutter release than we have in something like the Pentax 67. And yes, it is noticeably smooth. In addition to this, the mirror features a mirror lockup mode for tripod shooting or long exposures when we want to totally eliminate as much movement as possible. There’s also multiple exposure capability, which is always fun, even if I’m terrible at multiple exposures. 

There’s no built-in metering system, unless we buy the very rare and very expensive metering prism, but even this prism mounted on the original SL66 is not coupled to shutter speed or aperture. So we might as well buy an accessory light meter to mount to the Rollei’s left-mounted accessory shoe and save some cash. If we want to get the creature comforts of built-in metering we’ll need to spring for a later model of the SL66 – the SL66E and SL66SE offer through-the-lens metering and TTL flash metering, while the latter offers spot-metering as well.

The shutter release button terrifies me. It protrudes from the front-right of the camera at an odd angle, something like 45º. I can’t help but fear that one good, accidental bump against a hard surface would sheer it right off. To its benefit, there’s a built-in cable release socket, and the release itself is lockable with a simple twist. 

The film advance and shutter speed selector are positioned on the right-hand side of the camera body, and they work as we’d expect. Actuation of each is incredibly precise and fine. The shutter speed dial slams into its detents with impressive responsiveness, and the film advance action is smooth and fluid. The controls fall where they should, and the camera is a joy to use. 

The lenses are comparable to the Hasselblad system. The short of that is – they’re world-class. With lenses from a 30mm wide-angle to a 1000mm tele and most everything in between, it’s a complete system. 

Final Thoughts

In my time shooting the Rollei SL66, I’ve had nothing but fun. It is such a charming camera. From its beautiful styling and its luxurious haptic feedback to, of course, the lovely images that it makes possible. It’s just a timeless device of real quality, and I love it. 

The list of superlatives which the Rolleiflex SL66 can claim over the other cameras in my collection is extensive. It’s the prettiest camera I own. It’s also the heaviest camera I own. It’s the most interesting camera I own and of all the cameras I own, it has the most bizarre combination of unique features. Of all the cameras I own, it’s the most challenging camera to use, possibly because it’s just so different to all the rest. Most important of all, it’s the most fun camera I own. It may even be my favorite camera! Just don’t take away the rest.  

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Give a look to the amazing machines which are our writers’ Holy Grail cameras. And let us know yours in the comments below. Enjoy.

James – Zeiss Ikon Hologon Ultrawide

I’ve mentioned the Zeiss Ikon Hologon Ultrawide to lots of photo geeks in casual conversation over the past five years. Just one of them has known what I’m talking about. Most people think I’m talking about the Zeiss Hologon 16mm lens for the Contax G series cameras, or an old (and rare) Zeiss 15mm Leica M mount lens. But I’m not talking about a lens. The original Hologon lens was fixed to a Hologon camera. My Holy Grail camera, in fact.

The Zeiss Ikon Hologon Ultrawide was first produced in 1969. A mechanical 35mm film camera, it was fitted with the lens from which it derives its name, a Zeiss Hologon 15mm F/8 (fixed aperture, fixed focus). This lens provides a 110º field of view. The camera has a viewfinder, a bubble level, a pistol grip accessory, a graduated neutral density filter to kill vignetting, a tripod socket, thumb-powered film advance, and a shutter with speeds from 1/500th of a second down to Bulb and T.

It is essentially a finely made metal clockwork camera with an enormously wide lens. Okay, 15mm by 2020 standards isn’t too wild. But back when this camera was made, 15mm was pretty wild. So wild, in fact, that Zeiss Ikon, the company who made it, barely sold any units. Despite making great cameras, Zeiss Ikon folded in the 1970s, after which their parent company Carl Zeiss took over. For the next few years, Carl Zeiss would produce small batches of Hologon cameras per year. In addition, they converted a number of the 15mm Hologon lenses to M mount (less than 1,000 units). Decades later in 1996, the famed Hologon was recomputed and reborn in Contax G mount, becoming a legendary lens in its own right.

The Zeiss Ikon Hologon Ultrawide was and remains an expensive camera. When new, it retailed for $825. That’s more than $5,500 in today’s money. And $5,500 is just about what a nice, fully functional example will cost today. The high price alone puts the Hologon fairly out of reach for most buyers. And then its rarity makes it hard to find even if one has the money (there are a handful of imperfect ones on eBay, usually, but who wants to spend $3,500 on a camera with a hazy lens?).

But beyond the high cost, what really makes the Zeiss Ikon Hologon Ultrawide a Holy Grail camera is that it’s just so impractical. A fixed 15mm lens that can’t focus or change aperture on a camera that costs five grand? How does one possibly justify that? I guess if one owns a camera shop and a camera blog whereby the entirety of the business operations consists of buying and selling cameras, and writing articles about special cameras for other photo geeks to enjoy, one might be able to justify the purchase. It is, after all, a business expense. Yes… Yes.

What say you, dear reader? Should I buy a Hologon?

Jeb – Hasselblad XPan II

Call me a sucker for weird formats; Polaroids, square 120, and even 110. I love shooting them all because they offer unique compositional challenges. Technically the Hasselblad XPan is a 35mm camera and you can use it to shoot 24x36mm negatives. But the whole point of the camera is the switch that allows it to shoot panoramic 24x72mm negatives. Panorama photography is a small niche in the field, but wide composition is something that has long appealed to me and is not a little influenced by films like The Master and Kenneth Branaugh’s Hamlet. 

There are a few options for panorama cameras, but none reach the quality of the XPan. Designed by Hasselblad and produced by Fuji, who released it in Japan as the [arguably prettier] TX-1, it was released in 1998 along with three new manual-focus lenses (30mm, 45mm and 90mm) specially built for the camera. It had automatic exposure, a silent shutter, exposure compensation and a motor drive. The XPan 2 was released in 2003 with modest improvements, such as an expanded bulb mode allowing for exposures up to nine minutes long, a self timer, and in-viewfinder exposure information. One cool function is that the film is completely unwound and then rewound frame-by-frame each time a photo is taken so that each exposure is protected as it’s taken, and so that the format can be changed mid roll.

But what you really want with the XPan is that wide negative. It gives photographers a cinematic perspective on whatever subject they choose, and while many people consider the XPan limited in its practicality, I say the only limitation is the photographer. Unfortunately the niche-ness of, and high-demand for, the XPan has seen prices skyrocket – well beyond the reach of most of us, including myself. XPans regularly cost a minimum of $3,500, and that’s with only one of the three lenses. If I were to take the time to average the price of the eleven XPan II’s currently listed on eBay (which I did), I’d find that the average the average price of an XPan II on eBay is an astonishing $5,886.

Still, if there’s one camera out there that I’ve never used but still salivate over, it’s the XPan. At the very least it would save me time cropping to my favorite aspect ratio.

Connor – Zeiss Ikon ZM

Being abandoned with nothing but one camera would be difficult for me regardless of my fictional budget. I’m just as much a collector as I am a photographer, and using/learning to handle different cameras is just part of the fun to me. That being said, I think I would go with the Zeiss Ikon ZM 35mm rangefinder. With a suite of Zeiss lenses, of course.

I prefer rangefinders for my style of shooting, and the ZM’s utilitarian feature set and access to some amazing lenses make it hard to ignore. With a shutter that’s just one step faster than the comparable Leica M7, and a metering system that’s very similar as well, aside from aperture priority, it’s clear who Zeiss had in their crosshairs when designing the ZM. It’s lighter, faster, and, at least in theory, more accurate to focus than the Leica due to its longer rangefinder base.

I can’t write any more about the ZM without talking about the lenses that come with it. The M Mount Zeiss lenses come with a powerful and deserved reputation (check out this review by Dustin to see for yourself) as the cream of the crop in terms of optical sharpness and design. I know the M mount has a huge variety of lenses and manufacturers, but there’s something about putting a non-Zeiss lens on a Zeiss body that feels… unholy. I’d rather have Planars and Distagons and Biogons on my Zeiss camera than Summicrons or Skopars. I will fully accept my contrarian badge and wear it with pride, as long as my desert island has enough batteries to keep the ZM working forever.

Cory – Nikon F2 Titan

I’ve had far too many cameras pass through my fingers since I tumbled into the rabbit hole of film photography. Some of them have been average and forgettable, others surrounded by hype and storied reputations. At a certain point you realize that gear doesn’t really matter all that much. Some features are useful or even necessary to be sure, but at the end of the day it all comes down to what camera speaks to you on a deeper, emotional level. Which one begs to be used? To be passed down to your kids or grandkids? Which camera is as much of an heirloom as it is a trusted companion to your life?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. James went through this same journey when he decided to purchase his Nikon SP 2005 Special Edition. Like him, I wanted something fully mechanical, rare, and beautiful. Preferring SLR to rangefinder and already possessing a decent collection of F-mount glass led me to my own personal grail – the Nikon F2 Titan.

The traditional Nikon F2 is a standout camera in its own right, being hand-assembled from over 1500 individual parts. Its all mechanical body capable of continuously varying shutters speeds from 1/125-1/2000th of a second is a marvel of mechanical engineering. 

The F2 Titan is ostensibly a standard F2 wrapped in a titanium shell, but its history and rarity are what make it truly special. In 1977 the famous Japanese adventurer, Naomi Uemura asked Nikon to make him a camera that could survive his solo dog sled trip to the North Pole. Nikon created a titanium bodied F2 using special lubricants intended to function at -50c, and tested the camera’s durability by hurling it down flights of stairs in the factory. Nikon produced three F2 Titanium Uemura Special cameras in total (the first Titanium cameras ever made, in fact). Uemura took two of the cameras with him and shot 180 rolls of film during his six month journey. 

In 1978 Nikon produced and marketed an extremely small number of bare-metal titanium F2’s. Professionals complained the titanium finish was too reflective so Nikon painted the future models with a thick, textured black epoxy.

The F2P (P for press), was released in 1978 and distributed to two thousand members of the media that year. The F2P can be identified by a serial number starting with 920xxxx and a plain front plate (it is commonly referred to as a ‘no name’ F2 Titan). In 1979, Nikon released the F2 Titan, which had ‘Titan’ engraved on the front plate and serial numbers started with F2T 79xxxx. It was essentially an F2P that the general public could buy. The final and rarest (only 300 made) titanium F2 was designated the F2H. It sported a non-moving semi-transparent pellicle mirror and a huge MD-100 motor drive and MB-100 battery pack. It achieved a blistering 10 frames per second.

I’ve lusted after one of these special cameras for years, ever since I first learned of their existence. Recently the opportunity presented itself via the friend of a friend for me to purchase an F2P in near-mint condition and it’s on its way to me now. I can’t wait to own, and more importantly, shoot such an important and unique piece of Nikon history. I know that Grails aren’t supposed to be attainable. I’m cheating a little by picking this one. Chalk it up to excitement.

Aidan – Mamiya 7

I currently own and frequently use the Mamiya m645, or as I like to call it “the beast.” It’s beautiful. However, if I had to choose a camera that I would consider my “holy grail,” or a piece of equipment that I want so badly but is so financially out of reach that it can’t be justified, would be a another camera from Mamiya. The Mamiya 7 is my holy grail, desert island camera, dream setup, or whatever we want to call it! I crave its lightweight square-like design that’s able to capture sharp 6x7cm medium format memories. 

I surprised myself when I considered a rangefinder to be my holy grail camera; but this specific beauty is too handsome to keep off of the top of my dream list. If I had the Mamiya 7 I feel like I could step up my landscape and street photography tremendously with its versatility for any situation. It’s just unique enough, and it has a concise lineup of lenses that would allow me to be ready for any situation. 

The unfortunate $3,000 to $4,000 that this camera costs does not seem justifiable, especially when my significantly heavie, “beast” camera is by my side wherever I go. One day, even if it costs me an arm and a leg, the beautiful, lightweight, medium format Mamiya 7 rangefinder will be mine to create a new lifetime of cliché film shots.

Drew – Rolleiflex Hy6 Mod 2

In the world of autofocus medium format cameras, there are just a handful of players. I’m lucky enough to own the Fujifilm GA645, which is awesome because of how compact it is, and the Pentax 645N, which is a thoroughly modern workhorse. When I think about all of the cameras I don’t own but would like to own and yet probably never will own, one stands out – the Rolleiflex Hy6 Mod 2.

Despite having an appreciation for manual cameras, I’m still a sucker for the adornments and conveniences of modern photography. And on top of that, I really love the fewer shots and larger negatives of 120 film. The various 645 autofocus cameras are good, maybe great, but they’re 6×4.5 and ultimately do not boast the best autofocus or internal metering, which are the hallmarks of modern photographic equipment. The Contax 645 could be my holy grail camera, because I adore Zeiss lenses, but at the end of the day the storied shoddy autofocus and wonky electronics make me hesitant about ever purchasing one.

A far better option is the exorbitantly pricey (for me) Rolleiflex Hy6 Mod 2. This beast is a further development of Rollei’s 6008AF but developed to use Sinar digital backs. The Hy6 has a long history of development with multiple companies involved in its production, only to then become insolvent. It is currently produced by DW-Photo GmbH, a reincarnation of DHW Fototechnik itself a vestige of Rollei/Franke & Heidecke.

In any case, the Hy6 Mod 2 can shoot using 6×4.5 or 6×6 film backs, or medium format digital backs made by Leaf or Sinar (we’re talking sensors in the 50+ MP range). With a waist level finder but blisteringly good AF, you can compose shots organically and never miss focus or have to use a loupe/magnifier. On top of this, the 80mm f/2.8 Schneider-Kreuznach Xenotar, the Hy6’s standard lens, produces stunners. Painterly bokeh and razor-sharp. Luckily, not only are there many Schenider lenses made for the Hy6, the camera also accepts the earlier Rollei 6000 lenses made by Zeiss, Rollei, and Schneider. The cherry on top is that the camera’s three TTL metering modes (center-weighted zone, average zone, and precise spot) work as well as any in-camera meter could, making slide film a breeze to shoot.

Put simply, who wouldn’t want a camera that makes effortless 6×6 images that look gorgeous every single time? For that, all you’ll need is 5,000 – 8,000 USD!

Josh – Plaubel Makina 67

Among photo geeks, I suppose I can count myself rather fortunate. Over the decade-plus that I’ve been shooting film seriously, I’ve finally narrowed my collection down only to things I actually need. I have a pro-spec 35mm SLR system, a classic German rangefinder, an underwater camera, and an antiquated-but-capable TLR if I ever need to shoot medium format. Frankly, not much else outside of that excites me. Luxury point-and-shoots? Don’t care for them. Large format? No time for that. Wacko vintage curiosities masquerading as cameras? No patience. I’ve tried nearly all of these and even geeked out hard over them, but I really don’t think I need any of them. Bummer.

But there is one camera that has piqued my interest for years, yet has completely eluded me – the Plaubel Makina 67. It’s a slick German medium format rangefinder that shoots huge 6×7 negatives out of an incredibly thin body. The compact, bellows-based design is concise and devilishly pretty, a nice contrast to the boat anchors in this category, the Pentax 67 and the Mamiya RB67. The Makina 67 even sports a quick 80mm f/2.8 Nikkor lens, a spec that surpasses the 80mm lenses on the Fujica GM670 and even the legendary Mamiya 7. It seems to solve the weight and size issue I have with most 67 cameras, and does it in style. I might not need it per se, but I’ll be keeping a Makina-sized space on my shelf. You know, just in case.

Some nice cameras in there. Do you have a Grail camera? Let us know what it is in the comments below. Happy hunting.

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In a conversation last week amongst the crew, one of our lot posed the question: What are your favorite cameras made outside of Germany or Japan? It had us thinking. Is it an interesting question? Sure. Is it worthy of an entire article? Probably not, in normal times. But we’re doing our best to keep you stimulated. And maybe you’ve never thought about this? 

Take a poll among photographers and camera nerds asking them to list their top five cameras, and it’s likely that the lists would be completely dominated by cameras from Germany and Japan. All it takes is a quick mental accounting of camera manufacturers to underscore the outsized role these two nations have played in the industry. Minolta, Canon, Nikon, Pentax, Ricoh, Leica, Zeiss, Rollei – these are big names that prove the capitals of the photographic world have long resided in places like Wetzlar, Tokyo, Jena, Osaka, and Dresden.

But there have been camera producers elsewhere in the world, and many of them have been responsible for some truly excellent and interesting products. Today we take a look at five of our favorites.

Give it some thought and tell us yours in the comments.

Polaroid SX-70

The opening sequence of Wim Wenders’ Alice in the Cities, finds its protagonist traveling through America on assignment to write an article describing the country to Germans back home. Eventually he shows up at the magazine’s New York office with only a pile of Polaroids taken with his SX-70. The editor’s shocked that there aren’t any words accompanying the shoebox of instant images. 

Anyone who’s taken a Polaroid understands the writer’s dilemma: There’s something uniquely indescribable about an instant photograph, and within instant photography, no brand is more iconic than Polaroid. In fact, outside of Kodak, no other company came close to defining the American photography industry. 

No Polaroid camera is as iconic as the SX-70 folding SLR. Polaroid produced a nearly endless number of instant cameras, almost all completely plastic and automatic. The SX-70 is a different beast, at once more elegant and svelte than any of the company’s other cameras. James’ article on the SX-70 captures the romance and nostalgia the camera exudes.

There is nothing cheap feeling about this camera, made from metal, leather, and glass. The care and dedication that Edwin Land put into its creation shows in its design and functionality. It could take instant photos faster than anything else on the market, and once the photographer was finished, he or she could fold the camera and fit it into a jacket pocket. Unlike the plastic lenses typical to most Polaroid cameras, the SX-70’s four-element 116mm f/8 lens was all glass and engineered to be a big cut above every other instant camera lens. It was also an SLR camera, with a newly engineered mirror system, as well as a new auto-exposure system and creative flash control. 

That the engineers at Polaroid were able to fit all of this groundbreaking work into the SX-70 made the camera a revelation in its day. It really was a modern marvel. But in translating Land’s vision for the camera, they also succeeded in creating a masterpiece of unmatched industrial design and technical capability, all without losing the spontaneity and magic that makes the instant image such a magical experience.

Hasselblad 500cm

Swedish companies have proven a number of universal truths: that Volvos will run forever if allowed to; Ikea Kallax shelves are the best shelving for a record collection; Spotify has continued proving that customers will always sacrifice quality for convenience. While the jury is still out on the case of Italian vs. Swedish meatballs, there’s no question that Sweden has a deserved reputation for dependable and innovative product design. For a while, this extended into the camera industry.

Hasselblad’s reputation for quality is so widely accepted that it’s more of a maxim than it is a myth. The Hasselblad has been the epitome of high quality in medium format photography for more than seventy years. How many other cameras are of such a high calibre that they’ve snapped photos on celestial bodies other than Earth?

Born from one Swede’s desire to take better pictures of flowers, the Hasselblad V series is a modular camera system designed to take different lenses, film backs, and other accessories. Each component of the camera can be removed and swapped with something else, and this versatility made the series popular with pro photographers. Other manufacturers took note and the modular system became the gold standard for medium format professionals who enjoyed the ability to switch lenses and film stocks on a whim, both in the studio and on location, even if the location is on the surface of the moon. While other modular systems, like Mamiya’s RB67, caught on in popularity, none could match the prestige of Hasselblad’s system. 

Of all the variants in the series, the 500cm was most ubiquitous, being produced from 1970 to 1994. As Aaron explained in his article on the V series, the M in the name indicated the ability of the end user to modify the camera, instead of requiring a technician. With the 500cm, photographers could easily swap focusing screens based on need. The twenty-four-year production run is enough to speak to the camera’s quality, but it also means that the used market for the camera can be treacherous. Like that IKEA futon you had in college, these cameras were workhorses, and treated as such. 

Alpa 10D

Choosing a camera from Switzerland may seem like cheating, as it’s in the DACH countries (Germany, Austria, Switzerland) that make up the German-speaking world, but ask any German or Swiss and they will assure you that they are not the same people. To get a feel for the distinctive Swiss industries, just take a walk through Geneva, where nearly every business is either a bank, a watch retailer or a cheese and chocolate specialist. The Swiss concept linking all of those is a penchant for specialized, high-end products.

Specialized and high-end are perfect descriptors of Swiss camera manufacturer Alpa. It could be argued that Alpa makes cameras so niche that only a handful of camera nerds even know the brand exists. (We do and have written about them.) In a manner that would even make Leica fans blush, today’s Alpa describes its cameras as “precision tools, made with passion and skilled craftsmanship for a small group of connoisseurs.” The 10D was one of Alpa’s final cameras made in Switzerland before the company started outsourcing production to Chinon.

Alpa cameras are all mechanical, made with generous amounts of metal and accented dollops of brass, including a small rectangle where the owner could engrave their initials. In his review of the 10D, James highlighted some of the camera’s quirky design features, including a reversed film advance lever, three-cell metering system and unique rewind system. He likened it to a forty-year-old sports car, an apt analogy when you consider the bespoke lens mount that only allows for some of the world’s most incredible glass. In spite of its quirks, the 10D is a straightforward machine, a camera that emphasizes necessity over convenience. 

It’s a basic camera with a spec sheet not dissimilar to a Pentax K1000, but it’s made so brilliantly and with such care for detail that the two cameras seem to live in different universes. And in a sense, the Alpa does stand apart from everything else: it’s an expensive, deliberate machine, made to order by people with a love of proper industrial design and not bound by the demands of accountants or the market. In that sense, it’s a wonderful camera, and a wonderfully Swiss creation.

Kiev 60

Each of the previous cameras have shared the common thread of being uniquely well designed and constructed. The fourth camera on this list takes things in a different direction – a more eastern direction. It really would be irresponsible to not have Russian, or Soviet rather, representation on a list like this. Names like Zenit, Zorki, Kiev, and others released dozens of cameras that today are incredibly cheap and usable. While their quality control doesn’t quite match up with names like Hasselblad and Alpa, Soviet cameras are still relevant today, and even gave birth to modern brands like Lomography.

When the Kiev brand (it’s not really a company per se) moved into medium format cameras, its first entry, the Kiev 88, was a forgery clone of the Hasselblad 1600 F. The likeness was so identical that it was nicknamed the “Hasselbladski.” Even more unfortunate was the 88’s reputation for low quality and its unique lens mount that didn’t allow for using other lenses like the superb-by-comparison offerings from Carl Zeiss Jena. The next camera, the Kiev 60, was a completely different approach, an SLR instead of a modular system, modeled loosely off of the East German Pentacon Six and including that camera’s C-mount. The 60 also holds up much better today than the 88, especially as a budget-friendly entry point for medium format photography.

The Kiev shares many of the characteristics typical to cameras made in the U.S.S.R. It’s a massive rectangle, weighs heavy on the scales thanks to its metal construction, is basically designed to be cheaply repaired, and looked twenty years old on the day it was released in 1984. These aren’t necessarily bad traits. The camera’s simplicity of design and abundance make it extremely affordable and easy to replace. It looked dated when it was released, but it doesn’t really look any older thirty-six years later. It came with an 80mm f/2.8 Arsenal Volna-3 lens, prone to flaring but completely without distortion, and also allowed for shooting the entire gamut of lenses made for the Type-C mount.

Medium format cameras rarely come covered with bells and whistles like a 19th century field marshal. They’re often just light-tight boxes that only allow for the changing of shutter speeds and maybe the setting of a timer. They are typically geared toward professionals, or at least those capable of doing in their mind what other cameras do with circuitry. In the end, it’s all about that fat and juicy 120 negative in the back of the camera and the epic glass that sits on the front. And in that sense, the Kiev 60 fits the bill. You can create stunning images with this camera. What’s even better is that it can be bought for pennies on the dollar compared with its contemporaries made in Germany and Japan.  

Intrepid 4×5 Mark 4

Now for another left turn. The final entry on the list is both the newest camera, and the one using the biggest, most expensive film of the five. No one has yet created a digital sensor that matches the resolution and quality of a large format negative. But with great format size comes a greater price tag, and the cost per frame of 4×5 and 8×10 film is exponentially higher than smaller formats. Then add the expense of the camera and the lenses with all the accoutrements and the price gets even steeper. So for many of us, myself included, large format photography remains our version of the mashed potato mountain from Close Encounters. Something we can’t get out of our head, but can’t seem to fully realize. 

But the Intrepid company has achieved something of a modern miracle by creating a series of cameras that are relatively cheap and portable, two words seldom associated with large format photography. Based in England, Intrepid is currently on the fourth version of their 4×5 and second version of their 8×10 field cameras. The cameras are made from birch plywood, rust- and oxidation-proof aluminum, 3D-printed plastic derived from plant starch, with bellows made from nylon with a special lightproof interior casing. The choice of materials makes the cameras extremely light compared to other field cameras (the 4×5 weighs 2.6 pounds, the 8×10 5.5 pounds) and the design puts a priority on portability. The price is also refreshingly low for a newly made field camera. The 4×5 Mark 4 costs 280 pounds, or $350 and the 8×10 Mark 2 costs 480 pounds, or $598. The comparatively low cost also comes with the knowledge that a real, existing company is available for support. 

Getting into large format photography can be an overwhelming idea. It’s not just the negative that’s bigger, it’s the potential, the demand for precision and the fact that each shot costs bills and not coins. Everything is slightly different and the process is much slower. By offering an affordable and portable camera, Intrepid gives photographers an easier entry point into what can be an incredibly rewarding photographic experience.

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The post Our Five Favorite Cameras Not Made in Japan or Germany appeared first on Casual Photophile.

This year we’re spotlighting products and companies whose work this decade has enriched film photography and helped to ensure its survival for years to come. Here are a whole lot of amazing gifts for the film photographer presented in ascending order, with the least expensive gifts up front and the most expensive gifts at the end. We’ll also include plenty of links to the best places to find these gifts at the best prices. Enjoy!

Stocking Stuffers ($5-$30)

Film, (but get creative)!

One of the best and most obvious stocking stuffers in film photography happens to be its most essential piece – film itself. Truthfully, you can’t go wrong with film of any kind. Be it a pack of consumer film like Fuji Superia 400 or a roll or two of ultra-specialty professional grade film like the revamped Kodak Ektachrome, film will always be a welcome gift. But to make a big splash with film this holiday, why not get a film that’s a little unusual, like Cinestill 50D or the Japan-only Fuji Industrial 100? (you can buy Fuji Superia and Kodak Ektachrome from B&H Photo here).

Importantly, this year has seen brand new releases from two of the largest film manufacturers, Ilford and Fujifilm. From Ilford comes the much-hyped Ilford Ortho Plus film, an ISO 80 orthographic film. Ortho film hangs its hat on its its signature high-contrast, old-school look owing to its insensitivity to red light, making red tones deeper and darker than we see with panchromatic film. Ilford Ortho Plus was a longtime favorite of large-format shooters, and its new availability in 35mm and 120 formats is exciting. (Buy Ilford Ortho in 35mm and 120 format from B&H Photo).

Unlike Ilford, Fujifilm has had a rough go of it this decade with the disappearance of many of its greatest films like Fuji Superia 200 and Fuji Natura 1600. But the most loudly mourned of their canceled films was Fuji Neopan Acros 100, a film beloved for its clinical sharpness, controllability both in camera and in post-processing, and its stellar reciprocity failure characteristics. Thankfully, Fujifilm had a change of heart and decided to bring the emulsion back as Acros II, which will certainly be a welcome gift to any hardcore black-and-white shooter, and a welcome sign to any fan of Fujifilm. (Fuji Acros II is only available in Japan at the moment, however it’s possible to buy rolls from importers via this eBay link, making Acros II an even more interesting gift this year!)

If you just can’t decide what film to gift, no worries –  we might be able to help. A subscription to the  Casual Photophile FIlm of the Month Club gives your lucky recipient a different film delivered to their door each month of the year. Films shipped in 2019 have included Kodak Ultramax 400, JCH Street Pan 400, Kodak TMAX P3200 and many more.

Accessories (pins, straps, stickers)

The gear-saturated world of film photography is one given to endless accessories, most of which happen to make great holiday gifts. Shoot Film Co., run by friend of the site Mike Padua, easily comes to mind. Mike’s spent the past few years celebrating film photography and its community by making some of the best (and funniest) film themed enamel pins, patches, and t-shirts. Standouts include the Black Flag-based “Black and White” pins, an incredibly specific JCII quality approval sticker pin, and a heartwarming Agfa Vista tribute pin.

In a similar vein, Official Exclusive NYC offers enamel pins showcasing film photography gear itself. Almost every cult classic camera, lens, and film manufacturer is represented here, with enamel pins of old school Ektachrome film canisters, Nikon F cross sections, and hype train luxury point and shoots. If you have a gearhead in mind but can’t splash the cash on a brand new Contax, you might as well give them the next best thing.

But perhaps the most evergreen accessory in film photography is one that (hopefully) all of us use – the camera strap. CP staff writer Charlotte already rounded up her favorite (and leather-free) entries in this arena in this article, but one that stands out in particular are made by Hyperion Camera Straps. Hyperion’s acrylic straps are 100% leather free, handmade in Greece,  and available at a very affordable price, which makes them perfect as stocking stuffers for any shooter.

Also notable in this category are Couch straps, a Los Angeles-based company that specializes in leather-free guitar and camera straps made of recycled seatbelts and vintage car upholstery. As they’re first and foremost a guitar strap company, their straps are built to withstand an almost unlimited amount of abuse. I’ve used my Couch guitar and camera straps on hundreds of gigs and photoshoots and they’ve never failed me, despite my best efforts. If that’s not enough to convince you, check out this strap made from the interior of an ‘87 Golf GTI. Pretty sweet.

Small Gifts ($30-100)

Boutique Accessories

If you’ve got a little more cash to spend, there are a bevy of options within the boutique accessory range. We’ll start with a couple of products from Tap and Dye, a well-known and well-loved leather camera strap maker. They offer a basic, fixed length strap for a little less than $80 that is no less spectacularly made than their more premium offerings. They also offer a waxed canvas film pouch that, while on the more opulent side of the practicality matrix, would make any film geek squirm with joy.

Continuing with the theme of Fine Leather Goods we come to nearly famous eBay seller Mr. Zhou. Mr. Zhou has managed to make the dreaded ever-ready case cool by making them actually work. Zhou’s minimalist leather half cases with integrated finger grips are both stunning and functional, and are ready to be wrapped around the most popular classic cameras, like the Leica M-Series, Nikon F-series, and Rolleiflex TLR’s.

If we’re talking boutique accessories, we have to mention the fine metalwork of Jay Tsujimura, who specializes in making finely made metal soft shutter releases. It’s interesting that Jay decided to focus specifically on shutter releases to showcase his art, and we as photo geeks are grateful for it. We ran a product spotlight on him about five years ago, and it’s encouraging to see him and his work still going strong all these years later.

Consumer Level 35mm Cameras

The rise in the popularity of film cameras unfortunately means a rise in price. Many of the cameras that would’ve once occupied this price range at the beginning of the decade have moved onto greener pastures. But it does not mean that we can’t give high quality and affordable cameras as gifts – we just have to know what to look for.

For example, one would think that a simple 35mm point-and-shoot is out of the question considering the bonkers prices Olympus mju-II’s and Nikon L35AF’s go for. Luckily, the Pentax IQ-series of cameras is here to prove us wrong. These cameras still go for about $50 in pristine condition, have excellent glass and capable metering systems to boot, and do the flash-heavy point-and-shoot look that the kids go crazy for. They are also, statistically, the most reliable point-and-shoot cameras to ever come through the F Stop Cameras. We’ve literally never had to bin a Pentax IQ Zoom. Unbelievable.

If you’re brave enough to look for an entry level 35mm SLR at this price point, there are a few options still out there. As of December 2019, the Nikon EM still remains firmly under the $90 mark, complete with the cult classic Nikon Series E 50mm f/1.8 lens. Older mechanical cameras are also available with lenses at this price point too, chief among them being the Minolta SRT-101, and my favorite, the Pentax SV.

Big Budget Gifts ($100 – $500)

Bulk Film and Film Processing Kits

The only thing better than gifting a film photographer film is gifting them more film. And I mean an obscene, vulgar amount of film. Indulging our gluttony here are the fine folks at the Film Photography Project who, in addition to making a stellar podcast, run an online store with an impressively extensive selection of film. My favorite FPP offerings are their bulk loading kit and 100 foot rolls of film, perfect for the devotees of one or two emulsions. There’s not much else that says “Merry Christmas” to a film photographer like a 100 foot roll of Eastman XX lovingly hand-rolled into 36 exposure canisters.

That much film requires a lot of processing. Thankfully the folks at Ars Imago made that easier for all of us with their new Lab Box, an all-in-one processing tank. The Lab-Box makes the cumbersome process of developing film easy enough for even the most darkroom-shy, essential for bringing new film shooters into the fold. Cinestill (who happen to be one of the Lab-Box’s North American distributors) makes this easier still by packaging the Lab-Box with their black-and-white monobath which makes developing incredibly simple.

Camera Bags

Camera bags can be a little ho-hum as far as gifts go, but there’s one company whose camera bags have become coveted in the film photography community over the last decade – ONA. Handcrafted in the Big Apple and designed with input from the film photography community, ONA bags are just about the finest made and best looking camera bags available. A large part of film photography today is about style and design, and these bags are a perfect expression of that philosophy. (Shop for ONA bags via B&H Photo)

Instant Cameras

Film geeks of a certain age will no doubt remember the feeling of getting an instant camera for the holidays. This decade’s revival of Polaroid, first as the Impossible Project and then as Polaroid Originals, gives us a chance to keep that feeling going for the next generation. The most immediately accessible Polaroid instant camera is the Polaroid Originals One Step 2, a loving throwback to the Polaroid One Step cameras of old. Buy one with a bunch of Polaroid i-Type film and you’re guaranteed to make at least one more instant film fanatic this holiday.

But if you want to really knock some socks off, there’s not much better than a fully-serviced Polaroid SX-70 from Brooklyn Film Camera. The SX-70 is a classic of classics, and one of our favorite camera designs (and favorite articles) on this site, and Brooklyn Film Camera has made a point to keep these foldable marvels alive. Over the past decade they’ve amassed a reputation as the premier classic Polaroid dealer in the US, steadily churning out fine examples of Polaroid’s glory days. Just look at that black SX-70. It’s the stuff of dreams.

Pro-spec Film Cameras and The Fanciest Tripod Known To Man

At this price point, many great film cameras and lenses become available, and our reviews which we’ve linked to below can help you decide which is the best fit for your photographer. Pro-spec 35mm SLR cameras like the Nikon F2, Canon F-1, and Minolta XK are within budget, as is site founder James’ favorite rangefinder, the Minolta CLE. Medium format monsters like the Pentax 67 and the Fuji GW690 are ripe for the picking as well, along with classic compact 6×6 TLR’s like the Rolleicord and Minolta Autocord. Whichever you happen to go with, you can rest assured you’ll be giving a gift that’ll last a lifetime.

A fitting companion to any of these cameras is the much-hyped Peak Design Travel Tripod. It’s a complete redesign of the travel tripod, designed specifically with weight and portability in mind while still offering the stability of a full-size tripod. This might all sound like marketing jargon because, after all, it’s just a dang tripod. But after watching the demo video, the Peak Design Travel Tripod is the real deal, and perhaps one of the best tripods money can buy.

Big Spender Gifts ($500+)

A Print From a Legendary Photographer

After all the gear and accessories, there’s really only one thing left – actual photos. For those willing to drop a huge amount of cash, you could actually own a genuine print from a legendary photographer. The Magnum Photos website in particular sells signed prints from some of the biggest names in photography, like Robert Capa or Elliott Erwitt. Alternatively, Artnet compiles information on how to get prints from all over the globe from nearly every major photographer of the 20th century. It’s a lot of money, sure, but we’re talking about works that have shaped how we see the world. That’s a hell of a gift to give.

That One Special Camera

This price range naturally opens up a lot of doors, and gives us the opportunity to get the one special camera that the film photographer in your life has always wanted. Cameras we’d love to get? The Hasselblad X-pan or 500CM, the medium format icons of the Mamiya 7 and Plaubel Makina 67, or a Schneider-equipped Rolleiflex 2.8, a Linhof Master Technika 4×5 so we can drive to Yosemite like Ansel Adams himself, or finally, that Leica M-camera we’ve been eyeing for the last ten years.

Or just buy one of those for yourself. What the hell. You only live once, and you deserve it. It’s been an incredible decade for film photography, and that demands a little celebration this holiday season!

One last note from all of us here at Casual Photophile – have a happy holiday and enjoy this time with the people (and cameras) you love. Cheers!

Browse for the perfect gift from our own F Stop Cameras

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[Some of the links in this article will direct users to our affiliates at B&H Photo, Amazon, and eBay. By purchasing anything using these links, Casual Photophile may receive a small commission at no additional charge to you. This helps Casual Photophile produce the content we produce. Many thanks for your support.]

The post Holiday Gift Guide for the Film Photographer – 2019 appeared first on Casual Photophile.

Rivals like the Pentax 67 offer a larger negative and superlative lenses. Likewise, the Mamiya 6 provides a square negative in a more compact form factor. Bare-bones Russian cameras cost pennies on the dollar (or ruble?) and aren’t as bare-bones as people like to imply. Why pay the extra money for a Hasselblad?

The ace-in-the-hole which separates the V Series from its rivals is its status as a system camera. With more than fifty accessories available, and an ability to mix and match to create a truly bespoke machine, the Hasselblad allows each user to create a photography platform perfectly suited to their style and their desired methodology.

If you have a unique style and haven’t yet been able to achieve it with your current setup, the chances high are that the Hasselblad V Series can help you get there. Just don’t expect it to come cheap.

What is the Hasselblad V Series?

As the story goes, photography enthusiast Victor Hasselblad was not satisfied with the options available to him to take photos of his beloved flowers. He had already created a camera system which the Swedish military used for aerial photography during the 1940s, and noticing a lack of civilian professional medium format system cameras on the market, Victor took matters into his own hands. 

Valuing adaptability, Hasselblad’s camera system was created with the ability to take multiple lenses and accessories right from the start. Beginning with the 1600 F of 1948, a Swedish-made machine which used Kodak, Zeiss and Schneider lenses, Hasselblad began to gain traction amongst photographers looking for great image quality in a package that was positively minuscule compared to the large format cameras of the day.

But these early Hasselblad cameras were blighted by the unreliability of delicate shutter mechanisms. It was not until the 500 C came to market in 1957 that Hasselblad managed to deliver a mass-produced machine which combined a modular system and great image quality with tank-like construction.

With the reliability issues largely behind it, the V system was ready to shine. And shine it did, especially the beautiful chrome-plated version. As with other classic camera designs, Hasselblad V series cameras manage to be both functional and extremely beautiful at the same time. Their sleek bodies appear to be one single hewn chunk of metal, despite the modularity of the system. And when held for the first time, it gives the impression of being an ingot of Swedish-made excellence.

Unlimited creative potential – The V System

The Hasselblad V system is modular. And when I say modular, I’m not talking about a few lenses and the odd viewing screen. Its core is comprised of a body, viewfinder, focusing screen, film back, winding handle and lens. But over the decades Hasselblad has manufactured dozens of different variants of these parts, meaning the photographer can easily balance choice and price to suit his or her needs.

An army of accessories complete the package. The lefthand side of the camera features an accessory rail which allows us to mount many of these add-ons. I would recommend picking up the spirit level and never removing it from the camera again. Extension tubes in numerous lengths allow us to focus far closer than the minimum focus distance if the situation requires.

Every single component of the camera can be stripped out and replaced with something else to suit our needs. And compatibility is exceptional, if not universal. The newest 503 CW with digital back could be matched to an ancient silver chrome C lens. Likewise, a 500 C will accept the latest and greatest CFi lenses to roll out of Oberkochen.

This is amazingly useful in practical application. It allows us to carry a selection of film magazines preloaded with different stocks to achieve different looks for a landscape shoot, for example. And take it a step further – once we have the necessary accessories, we can effectively transform the system into an entirely new camera to fit any situation. For each shoot, it’s possible to modify the camera to squeeze the most performance out of it for the task at hand.

Need to get close for some product photography for a client? Sorted, just equip the 105mm S-Planar and the bellows accessory for complete control of framing. Got a portrait shoot later in the day? Grab the 150mm Sonnar, a prism finder and a winder grip, and we’re ready to go. Need to shoot the Earth rising over the horizon of the Moon? That happened with a ‘Blad. There really isn’t a scenario that can’t be handled with the Hasselblad V series.

This helps to explain how one system has been so central to such a diverse range of photographic styles and scenarios over the years. Even the models used by NASA for space missions aren’t unrecognizable compared to their brethren made for public consumption.

The core of the Hasselblad V series is effectively a light-tight box. This is the blank canvas to which a user can apply an almost infinite amount of modifications and changes to make the camera uniquely theirs.

One direct result of Hasselblad’s success was the demise of their rivals, Rollei. A gentleman’s agreement between Victor Hasselblad and Dr. Reinhold Heidecke in the late 1950s left the field free for Hasselblad to print money. As TLR sales ran aground from the mid-1960s and onwards, Rollei was left to play catch-up, releasing the beastly Rolleiflex SL66 in 1966.

The Lenses

If being a fully modular system was the Hasselblad’s ace-in-the-hole, then the German-made Carl Zeiss lenses must be considered the X factor. The original lenses were groundbreaking at the time and are still impressive by modern standards today. These were the lenses that made the venerable T* multi-coating world famous. The definition, clarity and resistance to flare immediately made the V system stand out from its competitors.

As well as offering some of the best image quality available in a film camera system, the Zeiss lenses all use leaf shutters, which allows the photographer to sync flash right up to the top speed of 1/500th of a second. Studio photographers (and people who require fill-in flash) will love this, though photographers who work out in the field a bit more may find the relatively slow top shutter speed a bit more limiting.

It’s possible to find C-series lenses at very good prices, but there is a good reason for this. Although they are optically identical to most of the the newer lenses, they are ergonomically infuriating. The shutter speed and aperture are interlinked. Whilst this means it’s possible to adjust our settings and retain the same EV, it makes switching settings when lighting conditions change inconvenient at best.

As the years went by, Hasselblad periodically improved their lenses. The original C lenses evolved into CF variants, with improved ergonomics. Later wide angle lenses were improved with close focus correction.  A range of “basic” CB lenses offer great value for money, if you can find one.

Which Version Should You Choose?

Sold continuously between 1957 and 2012, there are plenty of V Series cameras available on the market today. At first glance though, it may not be immediately obvious which one to buy. The good news is that most of the differences are minor, and all of the cameras will provide a fantastic user experience, once we get past the quirks.

Here is a breakdown of the variants available on the market today – 

• Hasselblad 500C – 1957-1970 : Accepts all accessories, focusing screens can only be switched out by a technician.
• Hasselblad 500 C/M – 1970-1994 : “M” denotes the ability to modify the camera system. Added the ability to quickly switch out the focusing screens to brighter models, different grids, specialty screens, etc.
• Hasselblad 503 C/X – 1988-1994 : Added an internal TTL flash meter, as well as a “Palpas” coating to eliminate internal reflections. Came as standard with the improved Acute Matte focusing screen.
• Hasselblad 501 C – 1994-1997 : An all-black variant that was sold as a complete kit, with an A12 magazine and 80mm C lens. Confusingly this C lens is actually a CF designation, not the older C-type lenses that were originally released with the 500 C. 
• Hasselblad 503 C/W – 1996-2013 : Came equipped with a “Gliding Mirror System” which prevented viewfinder blackout with telephoto lenses. Came with the Acute Matte D screen, the final and best evolution of the focusing screens. Compatible with the Winder CW for those who need to shoot fast (with their slow cameras).
• Hasselblad 501 C/M – 1997-2005 : Equipped with Acute Matte D screen. Winder CW system compatible.

Hasselblad also manufactured a handful of special models. Cameras designed especially for wide angle photography, or models with integrated motor winders to site two examples, these cameras satisfied niche needs with the same basic core camera. 

Two separate electronic series, the 200 and 2000 series were manufactured between the late 1970s and 2004. These added internal metering, some programmed shooting modes and other bells and whistles, at the cost of requiring batteries. These 200 and 2000 series came with focal plane shutters, though they could be used with the C and CF series lenses. A selection of F lenses without leaf shutters was created by Carl Zeiss. These come with a larger aperture (and price tag) compared to their leaf shuttered equivalents.

The newest models, the Hasselblad 503 C/W and 501 C/M command a significant premium over the 503 CX and 500 CM. This is mainly down to their simply being newer machines, as their added features won’t really come in handy unless you’re using proprietary Hasselblad flash units, or need access to the winder.

One key reason why the 500 C is often significantly cheaper than the rest is that it does not have interchangeable screens. This means that you cannot swap in the high definition Acute Matte screens used in the later cameras. Although this is not a dealbreaker, some of these screens really can help with critical focus, which can be so vital in medium format photography.

The 500 C/M hits a sweet spot in price and features. As it had the longest production run, they are readily available on the market. Check the conditions of the camera closely before purchase, and bear in mind that these machines were often used and abused by jobbing photographers over the decades. This makes purchasing from a trusted seller with a warranty a better option than rolling the dice on eBay.

The 503 CX is another great choice. Manufactured in the mid-1990s, these came standard with the improved Acute Matte viewing screens. Manufactured by Minolta, these screens have a real ‘pop’ which help the shooter achieve focus more easily than the older screens.

[Images in the samples gallery were made with Kodak Tri-X and Ilford FP4 and Ilford HP5]

Shooting the ‘Blad

An inverted horizontal perspective and the long focus throw on all of the lenses mean that Hasselblad V series cameras are slow and deliberate cameras. Safety features, although adept at prohibiting the shooting of blank frames, can also slow things down even further. But if you prefer to take your pictures at a canter rather than a gallop, then there’s a lot to like about the Hasselblad. It rewards users who park it on a tripod and take their time to find the best composition before making a photo.

Using a waist level viewfinder is certainly challenging, even for more experienced users. New users shouldn’t be surprised to spend the first few months directing muses to move the wrong way, or twisting the camera away from the action at the crucial moment. Once our brains make the adjustment though, things smooth considerably. Expect to become addicted to the magical moment when a subject pops into focus in the viewing screen (this is especially true on models with the improved focusing screens).

The question of the 6×6 format is an interesting one. Instagram and social media means that people are more accustomed to the square frame than arguably any other time before, which is both a blessing and curse. The good news is that these large negatives can easily be cropped either horizontally or vertically into a more traditional aspect ratio, if that’s desired.

All of the sounds of the Hasselblad combine beautifully to give the impression of an exquisitely tactile machine. The shutter fires off with a satisfying ker-thunk. The viewfinder pings open as the chromed switch on top of the camera is released. The geared winding handle of the film magazine whirrs as we load and unload roll after roll. It’s a symphony of mechanical joy. 

The Quirks

The Hasselblad V Series has a number of fail-safes to prevent cack-handed photographers from wasting frames, accidentally exposing film, and suffering any number of other minor mishaps that can occur when shooting before that first cup of coffee. 

Initially, these little hangups will have new users staring blankly at their camera and wondering if they’ve acquired an expensive paperweight. As we get to know the camera, however, expect to begin to appreciate these thoughtful interlocks. When we consider that these preventative measures have all been achieved with cogs, gears, and pulleys, it becomes even easier to appreciate and understand why the Hasselblad became so revered as a mechanical masterpiece during the 20th Century.

Although it is extremely robust, the Hasselblad likes things its own way. This means that you must be considerate of the interlocks and never force the camera to do anything it doesn’t want to do. For example, if using extension tubes, the photographer will have to take off the lens first and then remove each tube, one by one. Failure to do so can cause the camera to jam.

The loading of the film magazines can be extremely finicky. You’ll have to feed the backing paper around the back of the magazine to the take-up spool, which feels counterintuitive. If you don’t then turn the handle to lower the guide over the film, the magazine will not sense when you get to frame one, and you will waste the entire roll of film.

As the Hasselblad is a system which rewards patient shooting over speed, I have never had a major issue with missing photos because of the failsafes. That said, it wouldn’t be the system I reached for if I needed to shoot some fast action on the streets. 

Most of these quirks are more inconveniences rather than dealbreakers though. And the failsafes won’t cause issues for users after the first handful of rolls create the necessary muscle memory.

The Price

A tuned and cleaned Hasselblad setup featuring the waist level viewfinder, 80mm Planar lens, standard focusing screen and film back will run approximately $1,200-$1,500 from a reputable camera shop with a return policy and guarantee of full functionality, and will possibly cost less from eBay. That’s a fair chunk of change, especially when we consider that a similarly modular Mamiya 645 system can be had for about half the price.

On the other hand, it’s difficult to feel short-changed by the Hasselblad. The build quality is unmatched, the customization options practically limitless, and the image quality is outstanding. They’re compact, elegant, and timeless in a way that few other cameras in their class can claim.

Shoot the Moon

A Hasselblad V system camera won’t make you take better images. But if you have a clear vision for what you’re trying to achieve with your photography, the V series can be configured to help you do the job (any job). If you’re shooting professionally day-in day-out, this adaptability may make the Hasselblad perfect for you. For amateurs and keen enthusiasts, a Hasselblad may be more of a luxury than a necessity.

But don’t think you’ll have to break the bank to build a system. With a few compatible Russian-made accessories and a second film back, it’s possible to bring the price of owning a Hasselblad down to earth. And there’s nothing like shooting the Moon camera. Isn’t that worth a bit of a premium?

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[Some of the links in this article will direct users to our affiliates at B&H Photo, Amazon, and eBay. By purchasing anything using these links, Casual Photophile may receive a small commission at no additional charge to you. This helps Casual Photophile produce the content we produce. Many thanks for your support.]

The post An Overview of the Hasselblad 500 Series (V System) appeared first on Casual Photophile.