More than a hundred years later, we recognize the Vest Pocket Kodak as one of the most important cameras ever made. And though this model today today has been virtually forgotten by the younger generation of the film photography community, the VPK is worth remembering.

A Brief History of the Vest Pocket Kodak

The first model in Kodak’s Vest Pocket camera range was introduced in April of 1912, and sold for $6, which, when adjusted for inflation, equates to $180 today. This was quite expensive for a camera that wasn’t technically ground-breaking.

The first model came with a single element meniscus lens mounted alongside an aperture mechanism (the maximum speed of which was f/11), and a simple ball bearing shutter capable of four speeds (1/50th, 1/25th of a second, plus Bulb and Time modes for long exposures). The lens element itself was sharp in the center and that’s about it. Which explains why many photographs from this time period are relatively sharp and mushy everywhere else. Lens optics from this period, compared to where they would be only a few decades later, can be described as primitive. Primitive optics however, didn’t hamper sales. The first Vest Pocket Kodak sold over 200,000 units.

Interestingly, a British variant of the camera received a proper f/6.8 lens from Koritska, an Italian optics designer.

In 1915, Kodak released the Autographic model. This model would not only go on to be the best selling of Kodak’s cameras to that time, but a very important milestone in the history of photography. It was offered with the meniscus lens, or what’s known as a U.S. speed 8 rapid rectilinear lens, which is a lens that reduces radial distortion, as well as four shutter speeds (same as the previous model).

The most notable feature of the Autographic model was the ability to write directly onto the film. That’s right, Kodak essentially laid the foundation for EXIF data. How was this possible? The Autographic featured a metal, hinged flap on the back of the camera. By opening this, the photographer could access the backing paper of the film within. Sandwiched between the film negative and the backing paper was a thin carbon tissue. By writing notes on the backing paper, this would transfer the writing directly onto the negative beneath. When the negative was developed or a print made from the negative, the writing could be seen.

Kodak was quite clever for this, since they were marketing this camera as the tool for family photography and daily archiving by way of the photograph. They also positioned the Vest Pocket Kodak as the camera for everyone, such as the everyday worker just wanting a basic camera, the high roller who desired a luxurious gadget, and last but certainly not least, the ambitious amateur with aspirations of professional status.

During World War I, the vest pocket Kodak was advertised as the soldier’s camera. A way for soldiers on the front line to document their experiences of the war as well as keep in touch with loved ones back home. Military superiors did not approve of this. However, that didn’t stop soldiers from documenting the war or documenting in general.

The VPK Autographic sold an unprecedented 1.75 million units. Following this success, every subsequent model of Vest Pocket Kodak would feature the ability to write information onto the film. Daily photographic archiving was here to stay.

After the Autographic, Kodak released the Autographic Special, which came equipped with a variety of lenses from numerous makers, including Kodak themselves, Bausch & Lomb, Cooke, Ross, and even Zeiss. These various lenses were fitted with either f/6.9 or f/7.7 as maximum aperture.

Later versions of this model would be made with true focusing lenses as opposed to the fixed focusing lenses of all earlier models, with the most desirable version being fitted with the Zeiss Tessar f/4.9 with an eight speed Compur shutter.

The Autographic Special didn’t sell as well as the original Autographic, but still managed to shift approximately 300,000 units. In the mid-1920s, towards the end of production of the Autographic Special, Kodak changed the design of the camera to a drop bed style rather than the tong design of earlier models.

In 1926, the VPK Model B was introduced as a more bare bones folding bed design marketed as the Boy Scout and Girl Scout Kodak. This model also received a new front plate design from Walter Dorwin Teague, who not only designed cameras for Kodak but Polaroid as well.

The optics in the Model B are very similar to the prior models. The aperture however, was numbered 1-4 whereas on previous models, aperture was indicated by weather descriptions such as “brilliant,” “clear,” “gray,” and “dull.”

The major difference between the Model B and previous models was the way in which film was loaded. Previous models were loaded in a similar fashion as the Leica M3, with the film pulled apart into a take up spool and loaded into the top (instead of the bottom like the M3). In the case of the Model B, the entire bed and bellows unit had to be removed and film was loaded through the front of the camera.

Alongside the Model B, Kodak also produced the Series III. This model was styled and operated similar to the Model B and featured either a Kodex or Diomatic shutter. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find much information on the shutter speeds or aperture of these lenses.

What About 127 Film?

I mentioned earlier that this camera introduced an entirely new type of film type that not very many people mention or even seem to really bother with these days – 127 film. This film is 120 film’s little brother, smaller than 120 but larger than 35mm film. In square format, it makes negatives measuring 4 x 4 centimeters, and in rectangular format 4 x 3cm and 4 x 6cm are the most common; of course this will depend on the type of camera being used.

127 film declined in popularity along with the Vest Pocket Kodak, which ended production in 1935. The 1950s saw a resurgence in popularity of the little big film that could. Although, photographers mostly preferred 127 for slide film since it was larger than 35mm but small enough to use in slide projectors once mounted. Kodak ultimately ceased production on 127 film in mid-1995.

Today, it can be found here and there on eBay and Film Photography Project, Lomography, and B&H Photo have stocked and sold various types of film in 127 format at various times. (Just now we can buy Kodak Portra in 127 from B&H Photo! What a treat!)

Nearly Dead and Almost Forgotten - 127 Film Today

A brief history of 127 film, an overview of the cameras that shoot it, and whether or not shooting them is worth the trouble today.

Read More

casualphotophile.com

What Makes the Vest Pocket Kodak Important Today

Why should we consider the Vest Pocket Kodak to be among the most important cameras ever made? Sure, it’s over a century old, it even probably witnessed the invention of sliced bread. And it sold a lot of units. And it photographed important people and events. But that’s not what makes it important. For me, the reasons are much deeper and more philosophical in nature.

This camera found its way into the pockets and homes of people from all walks of life. It showed everyone that a camera could be considered an essential appliance of everyday life, as important as any tool or gadget or invention that could be found on any kitchen countertop or in any tool box.

And not only was the VPK a tool to preserve that which would have otherwise remained just a memory, for some, the VPK was also a stepping stone to a higher career in photography. Julius Shulman, who went on to be one of the most prolific architectural photographers of all time, began his journey with a Vest Pocket Kodak. And if it was good enough for Shulman…

So, what happened to the Vest Pocket Kodak? What ushered the once ubiquitous camera into obsolescence? It was simply replaced.

By 1935, the end of production for the Kodak Vest Pocket, Leica and Contax had established themselves as the highest quality in 35mm cameras. In October of that same year, Canon, a small company from Japan, released its first rangefinder camera as a budget alternative to those made by Leica and Contax. By this point, it was clear that 35mm photography was the way of the future, leaving the once-loved Vest Pockets virtually obsolete.

But that doesn’t mean the Vest Pocket Kodak went away overnight. Families for generations would keep a Kodak Vest Pocket solely for documentation and special occasions. Through the Vest Pocket Kodak, photography was established as the dominant affordable medium for preserving memories, recording families, and documenting lives in a way that would last for generations. Photography was no longer a novel magic. It was now a way of life, a way of expression; a way of passing on history to those who did not yet exist.

That said, I must admit that the Vest Pocket Kodak is not the most practical camera to use in the 21st century. The film is expensive, hard to find, and not many labs develop it anymore. The cameras are ancient, often needing repair, and image quality from their primitive lenses leaves much to be desired.

However, that doesn’t mean that VPKs should be relegated to antique stores, tossed in the landfill, or left to wither away on a shelf next to a bunch of unopened Star Wars Pez dispensers. A better fate for these wonders of photographic history is that they be displayed; in museums, homes, schools, libraries, and any other place that would cherish having one upon their shelves.

The city museum of Dublin, TX has an entire section of photography history, and within the glass cases, alongside the Crown Graphic that the local newspaper once owned, sits a Vest Pocket Kodak. This warms my heart. The museum doesn’t point out the portable Kodak specifically, but people’s faces light up in remembrance when they see it. This alone makes a strong case for the VPK’s preservation.

Long before the Leica M3, before the Canon AE-1, the Pentax K1000, and before the Brownie Hawkeye became the cameras of history, the ones that would be passed down along the family line to dutifully document every day life, there was the Vest Pocket Kodak.

Get your Vest Pocket Kodak on eBay here

Shop for all things photographic in our store, F Stop Cameras

Follow us on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Youtube

[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 A Vest Pocket Kodak Camera Retrospective appeared first on Casual Photophile.

The Purma Camera company was founded in 1935 by British painter and commercial poster artist, Tom Purvis, and inventor, Alfred Croger Mayo with funding provided by David Brock of Brock Fireworks. The company was formed in London with the intent to build a camera around a unique focal plane shutter concept designed by Mayo in 1933. The name “Purma” is an amalgam of the last names of both Purvis and Mayo.

Tom Purvis was a renowned artist and the “Pur” in “Purma”. Image courtesy https://www.npg.org.uk.

At the time of Mayo’s first shutter patent, there were no inexpensive options for focal plane shutters. The few cameras that had them such as the Leica, Contax, or Graflex Speed Graphic used complicated cloth, or in the case of the Contax, metal drum systems in which a spring tensioned curtain would open and close a specific amount of time before a second curtain which set the shutter speed. Although these shutters worked well, they required a high level of precision and were expensive to build and sell.

Mayo came up with the idea of a focal plane shutter that used two curved metal curtains both with rectangular openings which allowed light to pass through them. The inner curtain was connected to a rotating brass weight, that depending on its orientation, would change the inner curtain’s position, creating a slit between it and the outer curtain. This allowed for three different sized openings that would allow an increasing amount of light through, depending on the orientation of the camera. At the fastest speed, the slit was about 1/16″ wide, 1/8″ at the medium speed, and 1/2″ at the slowest speed. The wider the slit, the more light came through.

The brass weight served a second purpose as its weight also affected the speed at which the curtains would move. With the camera held sideways in the slow speed position, the weight was nearest the ground. When firing the shutter, it would have to move up against the force of gravity. This motion would slow down the movement of the shutter curtains, resulting in a shutter speed of approximately 1/25. With the camera held sideways in the fast speed position, the weight was nearest the top so that firing the shutter would cause it to fall with the force of gravity, speeding up the movement of the shutter curtains, resulting in a shutter speed of approximately 1/450. Finally, an in between speed could be obtained with the camera held horizontally where the brass weight neither had to overcome gravity or being assisted by it, resulting in a shutter speed of approximately 1/150.

US Patent number 2134309 shows the design of what would become the Purma Special.

Despite its unorthodox design, Mayo’s shutter worked really well and because of its simplicity, was very reliable. Barring physical damage, the shutters found on these cameras rarely failed. Another benefit to the simple design was that it could be produced cheaply. Most of the parts were made of stamped metal, not requiring any precision machining like in more complex focal plane shutters. The number of individual parts was kept to a minimum requiring less raw materials. Finally, since speeds were changed automatically based on the orientation of the camera, no additional parts like a shutter speed dial were required, further keeping costs low.

The first camera to use Mayo’s shutter was the Purma Speed, which had an all metal body with a two-element lens and a flip-up viewfinder. It used the same three speed shutter explained above, but added a knob on the top plate of the camera that altered the width of the slit at each of the three positions, adding three extra speeds, bringing the total to six speeds. The Purma Speed was inexpensively priced at 35 shilling, and used 127 “Vest Pocket” roll film which allowed for 16 square exposures at a cost of 1 shilling per roll. The decision to shoot square exposures was to prevent changing the aspect ratio of each image as you rotated the camera to select different speeds. No matter how you oriented the camera, you would always get a square exposure.

The first Purma camera was the Speed, which had an all metal body and used Mayo’s unique gravity shutter. Image courtesy https://twitter.com/soperfectimages.

A year after its release, a second camera called the Purma Special made its debut. The Purma Special used the same three speed shutter as the Purma Speed, but lost the two range dial on the top, limiting it to only three speeds. The lens was now a three-element f/6.3 Beck anastigmat. The inner lens elements were said to be “bloomed” which I interpret to mean some form of early lens coating, to reduce flare. The flip-up viewfinder was replaced by a through-the-body direct vision viewfinder.

The most significant change was a new body, entirely made of Bakelite, and with a distinct shape that was wider in the center than the edges. Many sources online credit the design of the body to famous French-American industrial designer Raymond Loewy, but according to Richard Jemmett’s The Purma Camera Book, no evidence exists that Lowey ever had anything to do with the camera, at least not directly. Lowey did have a London office at the time the Purma Special was being built, so it’s plausible that credit was given to them to help make the camera more fashionable, but a better explanation was that company founder Tom Purvis had a hand in its design. Purvis was already a well respected artist, having created posters used by the London and North Eastern Railways, and competing in art competitions at both the 1928 and 1932 Summer Olympics, so it stands to reason that he had a lot to say in its art deco design.

The Purma Special was exported to the United States and sold for the modest price of $14.75.

The Purma Special proved to be very popular, both in England and in other countries. The camera was exported to the United States and sold in January 1939 for $14.75 which when adjusted for inflation, compares to about $275 today.

Today, opinions are strongly divided among collectors in regards to the Purma Special. Some fondly remember it as the first camera owned by their parents or grandparents growing up, but others chastise it for it’s strange appearance and operation. Although the Purma shutter is simple enough that it rarely fails, Bakelite is fragile and there’s more than a few Purma Specials out there with cracked bodies.

Whichever your opinion, this is a very unique camera with a fascinating design, that similarly to the rotating focal plane shutter in the Univex Mercury CC, showed that some camera designers were willing to think outside of the box to create something new that worked well, and could be made cheaply.

Shooting the Purma Special Today

I had wanted to try a Purma Special for quite some time, but it was never a priority for me until one day while talking to James, he asked if I would be interested in reviewing the camera. He sent me this camera with a couple filters and told me to keep it when I was done.

When the camera arrived, it was both bigger and lighter than I had expected. Weighing a total of 340 grams, the camera is lightweight but not small enough to fit into a shirt pocket. With the body’s angled edges and lens collapsed, it slides nicely in and out of a camera bag or small purse, but don’t drop it as the Bakelite body is fragile and will likely crack.

The Purma Special is about as simple as it gets. In fact, the top plate is where you’ll find everything you need to control the camera. The button inside of the tear drop recess is the shutter release, in the middle is the shutter cocking lever, and finally, the film advance knob. The Purma Special uses 127 roll film, so there’s no need to rewind film, it has a focus free lens, a single aperture, and shutter speeds are controlled by rotating the camera.

A word of caution about the cocking lever is that when it is time to make an exposure, pressing the shutter release causes this lever to quickly fly back to its uncocked position. It is critical that nothing obstructs the motion of this lever, as any contact with your hand will throw off the shutter’s motion which will mess up your exposure.

The bottom of the camera has absolutely nothing on it, not even a tripod socket. Without a Bulb or Time shutter mode and no real slow speeds, there really wouldn’t be a good reason to put the Purma Special on a tripod, but it’s worth noting. A tripod socket was added to the later Purma Plus, despite it offering the same three speeds as the Special.

The back of the camera has two round red windows which are both used for exposure numbers on the film’s paper backing. The Purma Special produces sixteen images that are 32mm wide which no 127 film has numbers for, so you must use the numbers one through eight twice, once in each window. Your first exposure is made with the number one in the left window. For the second, turn the advance knob until the number one is in the right window and make your second exposure. For your third, the number two is in the left window, and your fourth is when the number two is in the right window. Keep doing this until after the 16th exposure, which is made with the number eight in the right window.

The eye piece is square and has the words “Fast” and “Slow” written on the sides, which is there as a reminder of how to orient the camera for it’s different speeds. Fast is 1/450 second and slow is 1/25 second. Although it is not indicated, holding the camera normally, results in a medium 1/150 speed. Each of these three speeds are rough estimates, but are likely good enough for the latitude of most film that would have been used in the camera.

View through the Purma Special’s viewfinder.

The film door is not hinged and is held on by two clips on either side. Removing it is just a matter of pulling it off. The Purma has no light seals, but this doesn’t seem to be a problem as I didn’t encounter any light leaks while shooting it. Film travels from left to right onto standard 127 spools across a curved film plane.

Inside the film door is a small pressure plate that doesn’t quite cover the entire film gate, but obviously did a good enough job that the designers of the camera didn’t need to make it any bigger. You’ll also notice the word “Top” etched into the metal indicating how the door must be put back on the camera.

An interesting feature about the Purma Special that’s not obvious is that the two red windows are removable. When this camera was sold new, it would have come with these two red windows, and a second set of green windows which were to be used with certain panchromatic films. These additional windows are rarely found with Purma Specials as they were very easily misplaced.

Another easily lost accessory for the Purma Special was its threaded lens cap. In normal use, the camera’s lens is spring loaded and sticks out of the body of the camera by about an inch, but when not in use, the cap was designed to keep the lens retracted into the body. This not only helped make the camera more compact, but with the lens cap on, the shutter release would also become locked, protecting the camera from accidental exposures.

The viewfinder is two simple pieces of plastic that provide a square image which is useful as rotating the camera between “portrait” and “landscape” orientations doesn’t actually change the aspect ratio of the square image. According to R.W. Jemmett’s book, the Purma Special was the first camera to ever use plastic optics in the viewfinder.

The Purma Special is clearly a simple camera, designed to strip photography down to it’s barest form, making it accessible to as many people as possible. Handling the camera, the camera definitely is simple, and knowing for how long these cameras were produced, they clearly found a customer base, but what are they like to use? Fans of the Argus C3 will tell you the camera produces much better images than its appearance suggests, but can the same be said about the Purma Special?

As I normally do when it comes time to test a 127 camera, I tap into my limited supply of a German film called Supre-Tone that as best as I can tell was made in the 1960s. I am convinced that this orange wrapped 127 film has traveled through time as the every roll of it I’ve shot seems to have defied aging. Although originally rated at ASA 50, I’ve shot it at box speed and at 25 and it seems to come out at both speeds.

When shooting old cameras, you can never be too sure of what kinds of results you’ll get before you actually shoot it. Sometimes highly regarded cameras can disappoint you, and other times extremely basic cameras can pleasantly surprise you. The Purma Special falls in the latter category. While I had an inkling that the results from this strange camera would be decent, I was pleasantly surprised to see a whole roll of properly exposed and reasonably sharp negatives as I pulled the roll of Supre-Tone film from my Paterson tank.

As it turned out, a film speed of 50 was a perfect match for this camera. The camera’s three shutter speeds allowed me to capture both a sunlit lake, and the inside of a covered bridge with enough latitude so as not to blow out the highlights or reduce shadow detail into a murky mess. I would be willing to bet I could have pushed it to 100, but I wouldn’t wanted to go much beyond that without having to make adjustments in developing.

Closing Thoughts

I really enjoyed my time with the Purma and found the simplicity of its controls refreshing. It is a lot faster to rotate the body of a camera to change its shutter speed than fiddle with a small dial or ring around a lens. Its focus free operation meant that as long as I stayed at least ten feet away from my subject, I did not need to be concerned with focus.

I had only two nitpicks with the camera. The first is that the shutter is quite loud when it fires. The internal mechanism makes a loud clang at the end of each exposure. This is not a camera that you’d want to try and shoot where you need to be discreet. The second is that the cocking lever flies back to its original position upon firing the shutter, so you must take care to keep your fingers away from it as the shutter is released. If anything obstructs this lever, it will throw off your exposure.

For amateur photographers in the UK during the twenty some odd years Purma cameras were made, Alfred Croger Mayo’s design proved to be a great success. Although strange in design, Purma cameras were extremely simple to use and did an above average job of producing quality images, worthy of enlargement. For the collector today, their simplicity means most should still be in good working order, and the good sharpness with strong vignetting of the Beck Anastigmat lens produces wonderfully vintage looking prints.

I liked the Purma Special more than I thought I would. My biggest wish is that 127 film was easier to come by, as I think that if I had more film options, I would shoot this camera more. Purma Specials are not common in the United States, but they do show up on occasion. Regardless of where you live, it should not cost a lot to add one to your collection, so if you have the chance, I highly recommend it!

Get your own Purma Special here

Follow Casual Photophile on Facebook and Instagram

[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 Purma Special – Guest Review by Mike Eckman appeared first on Casual Photophile.

The Sawyer’s Mark IV has everything I want in a film camera – gorgeous looks, high functionality, a fascinating back story, and most importantly, a great lens.  I know, I know I can hear the purists screaming at me and leaving comments that photography is supposed to be about images, not about gear, but a camera that brings me joy inspires me to shoot more often, so that’s a good thing right?

My version of the camera, the Sawyer’s Mark IV, is a rebadged version the Topcon Primo Jr., manufactured in Japan by Tokyo Kogaku (the company later called Topcon). The Primo Jr. was made in a variety configurations – metered, unmetered, grey-finished, and like mine, rebadged as the Sawyer’s Mark IV for the Sawyer’s company in Portland, Oregon, famous for production of the Viewmaster stereo viewing system. The cameras were distributed in Japan by Osawa Shokai, owner of the Primo brand, and in the United States by Beseler. Tokyo Kogaku designated the camera the Primo Jr., which positioned it as the “Junior” version of their successful 120 TLR the Topcon Primoflex. Unusually the Junior version was of better quality and had more features than its progenitor.  

Made entirely from metal and glass and covered in leather, there’s an instant feeling that this is a precision instrument, made long before the idea of designed obsolescence, just as much a joy to behold as it is to shoot. Even though it’s tiny compared to a Rolleiflex it exudes the same degree of quality, the machining and design of the dials, knobs and lenses and satisfying metallic snick when opening the waist level finder gives the reassurance of working with something really special. The waist level finder is such a joy to use, focusing a breeze, and when shooting portraits the pop-up magnifier allows me to always nail focus even at fully open aperture. 

Left to right: Rolleiflex Sport 4×4, Topcon Primo Jr. and Walz Automat cameras. Image courtesy of Mike Novak

The Rise and Fall of Super-Slides and 127 Film Cameras

The Grandfather of the Sawyer’s Mark IV was the Rolleiflex Sports 4×4 which was released in 1931. This smaller Rollei was one of the first high quality cameras to use the 127 film format, and the first TLR with a crank advance lever. You can see it in the image above in comparison with the Topcon Jr. version of my camera, and the Walz Automat. 

The Father of the Sawyer’s Mark IV would be the Rolleiflex 4×4, commonly referred to as the Baby Rollei. When Franke & Heidecke introduced the updated version of their pre-war Rolleiflex Sports 4×4 in September 1957 it created a sensation. This was the height of the slide film era and Frank Rizzatti at Burleigh-Brooks in New York had come up with the innovation of Super-Slides, which used the same slide film 2”x2” mounts but gave an image 85% larger. The projected image of Super-Slides was considerably larger in image area, 38 x 38mm compared to the 34 x 23mm of a regular 35mm slide. Burleigh-Brooks was the exclusive US distributor for Franke & Heidecke and Rizzatti had initially coaxed the company into creating adapters to shoot Super-Slides in the Rolleiflex. The introduction of the Baby Rollei allowed photographers to shoot Super-Slides in a dramatically smaller and cheaper camera which overnight created a massive market demand. This comparison is best illustrated from someone who experienced this era…

“Beautiful 127 film 4×4 camera. Excellent optics from Topcon. This was my father’s poor-man’s Rolleiflex. The advantage over the larger German brand was the ability to project 127 Ektachrome slides on a standard Kodak Carousel projector. The larger medium format Rollei needed an expensive, Buick-sized special projector. My dad’s slides became HUGE images with vibrant color that filled our walls as we recounted tales of our recent vacations.” – Jim Eckberg

Japanese camera manufacturers immediately saw a competitive niche in the market and the following year nine companies rushed to get their own 4×4 TLR cameras into production. In 1958-59 seven different cameras were released, the first being the Topcon Primo Jr. announced in Japanese camera magazines in May 1958, followed in July 1958 by the Yashica 44. These were followed by models from Minolta (Miniflex), Ricoh (Super 44, Ricohmatic 44), Tougodo (Toyoca 44 De Luxe, Kino, Halma, Laqon, Tower, Prinz 44s) and Walz (Automat 44). Olympus and Kondo toyed with producing models but never brought one to market.  The most successful manufacturer was Yashica who brought out several models built with price and the mass market in mind, such as the Yashica 44, Yashica 44A, Yashica 44LM, and the Yashica Auto 44. 

At the same period this explosion of slide film photography and Super-Slides was occurring another invention was gaining massive sales, the Viewmaster 3D viewer invented by the Sawyer’s Inc. of Portland, Oregon. The massive commercial success of the Viewmaster allowed Sawyer’s to expand the company, and by the late 1950s they were the second largest manufacturer of slide projectors after Kodak. A fascinating glimpse of Sawyer’s production at the time has survived in an episode of a TV program called “Success Story” which was aired on KING TV out of Seattle, Washington and on its sister station in Portland, Oregon, KGW-TV in approximately 1959.

Sawyer’s obviously saw the same commercial benefits of Super-Slides that the Japanese camera manufacturers had, and to take advantage of the trend and possibly compete with Kodak, they had the Primo Jr. badge-engineered into the Sawyer’s Mark IV. There was no Mark I, II, or III and it’s most probable the IV stands for the 4×4 size of Super-Slides. Sawyer’s obviously did their research and the Topcon Jr. was the best equipped of all the 4×4 127 TLR camera released in Japan. They spent a lot of money promoting the camera, with full page advertisements in the leading camera magazines and prominent placement in the Christmas issues of 1958 and 1959. The advertisements promoted the fact that the camera had a fast f/2.8 lens with a top shutter speed of 1/500^th, a combination that very few full sized TLRs of the period had.  

Frank Rizzatti at Burleigh-Brooks and Sawyer’s Inc. were both right about the benefits of Super-Slides, but they failed to see one of the biggest changes in the photography market in the 20^th Century – the 35mm format becoming the dominant mass market camera. Although 35mm cameras such as those from Leica and Contax had come out in the 1930s, they were awfully expensive and were dubbed “miniature” cameras. It wasn’t until the Japanese started producing good quality, cheap 35mm cameras in the mid-1950s that the format became popular and accessible. These trends combined with the other major trend at the time, which was Kodak’s popularization of Kodachrome, which they brilliantly marketed as the perfect film for slide film projection. Kodachrome was only available in 35mm. If a photographer wanted the best image, they’d need to shoot Kodachrome, and thus, 35mm film.

These factors suddenly made the larger roll film formats appear outdated. Every major photography magazine from 1957 through to 1959 carried special issues explaining what 35mm film was, the available cameras, and how to shoot and project slides. This four year period prior to 1960 closely parallels the period from 2000-2004 when the camera market transitioned from film cameras to digital. The Primo Jr. had initially been marketed in the United States by Beseler for $69.95 in 1958, but less than two years later Beseler was reduced to offering the Primo Jr. as a giveaway to any purchaser of a Beseler B Topcon SLR 35mm camera worth $295 as part of a promotion that ended on January 15, 1960.

By 1960 Topcon abandoned production of the Topcon Primo Jr. and the Sawyer’s Mark IV and went on to have great success with their Topcon branded SLR cameras. Sawyer’s Inc never gave up on the Super-Slide format, but adopted their own brand, calling them Pana-Vue slides which they produced in bulk for sale at tourism sites all over the United States. Tourists while on holidays to such places as museums, parks and most famously Disneyland could purchase sets of Pana-Vue slides to view at home without the trouble of shooting and developing slides themselves. Pana-Vue slides were so ubiquitous at tourist sites that they continued to be promoted even after Sawyer’s was purchased by GAF. Pana-Vue slides could still be found for sale at tourist hotspots as late at the 1980s. 

Shooting the Sawyer’s Mark IV *1958-60

Specifications  

• Name: Sawyer’s Mark IV (Tokyo Kogaku Primo Jr)
• Manufacturer: Tokyo Kogaku, aka Topcon
• Type: Twin Lens Reflex 
• Year: 1958-1960
• Format: 4x4cm, 12 shots on 127 film 
• Material: Cast aluminium, steel, glass, leather 
• Shutter: Seikosha MXL Leaf shutter 5 aperture blades
• Speed: B, T, 1/500, 1/200, 1/100, 1/50, 1/25, 1/10
• Taking Lens: Topcor 1:2,8 f=6cm 4 elements in 3 groups, Tessar type
• Viewing Lens: Toko 1:2,8 f=6cm4 elements in 3 groups, Tessar type
• Lens Coating: Blue 
• Focus 65cm (26 inches) – ∞
• Aperture: 2.8, 4, 8, 11, 16, 22
• Filter mount: Rollei Bayonet mount 1 (Bay I) on both lenses
• Light Meter: No
• Viewfinder: Reflective waist level finder and brilliant screen with parallax correction 
• Focusing: Helicoid
• Self-Timer: Auxiliary timer must be used 
• Size: 10.7 x 9.4 x 6.4 cm – Waist level finder opened 10.7 x 12.2 x 6.4 cm 
• Weight: 710g
• Price: ¥19500 $79.50 in 1958 ($1,056 in 2020 dollars)

At this point I can hear many readers asking “Why would you want to shoot an archaic camera which uses film that’s almost impossible to find?” Yes, the biggest shortcoming of the camera is that it uses 127 film, an obscure film that we described in our retrospective on the stock as “almost forgotten,” but it is still commercially available from a variety of sources, and you can hand roll cut down 120 film onto 127 reels. For those who want to know more about 127 film I suggest you read our 127 film retrospective and join the dedicated Facebook group that I set up, 127 Film Shooters Group. 

I believe the shortcoming in the film’s ubiquity is outweighed by the pleasurable shooting experience of the cameras which use it. The technical capabilities of the Sawyer’s Mark IV easily match its ease of operation and good looks, which are readily apparent in the images I shot. These were all shot on the very last batch of Kodak Gold 200 127 film frozen since new, which expired in April 1996.

The Sawyer’s Mark IV (Topcon Primo Jr.) is easily as good as the Rolleiflex Baby and in some instances even better. This is especially true of the gorgeous Topcon lens. It has the best minimum focus distance of any of the miniature TLRs. It even focuses closer than the full size Rolleiflexes (65cm or 26 inches) making it much better for shooting portraits. 

Ergonomically the camera is very easy to use. By gripping the camera with both hands, the aperture and shutter speed knobs are placed easily to be adjusted with the thumbs, and when we make changes to any of the settings these appear in a window above the viewing lens. A handy feature of the Sawyer’s Mark IV is the ability to use half LV settings for more accurate exposure. 

Loading the film can be a little tricky, which is true of most TLRs. My best advice for newcomers is to load film with the camera held over a table or sofa. A fumble while standing will lead to a fast descent and even faster stop when it hits the ground. Once you’ve loaded the film on the uptake spool, wind the crank until the film mark arrows match the marked points inside the film compartment. Close the back and use the red window to slowly advance the film until number 1 appears, then close the red window, depress the small button above the film crank knob towards the back of the camera, which will set the frame counter to 1. The camera will then automatically advance the film one frame and cock the shutter every time the film crank is advanced 180 degrees and reversed back to its position with the knob fitting into the body. 

Holding the camera by the same method, focusing is extremely accurate because the fresnel focusing screen is the brightest of any of this type of camera, and even better than the regular sized Rolleiflex. It was patented by Tokyo Kogaku and is nearly as good as a modern Maxwell Bright Screen. The manual states “the Fresnel lens installed beneath the ground glass screen increases the brightness of the reflected image by 2.5 times at the center and almost 10 times at the four corners. In addition there is a 2.5 power magnifying glass to aid in critical “hair-line” focusing.” This is probably the biggest reason I love this camera, and why I bought it. I wear glasses and focusing when using fast apertures has become difficult on many cameras. I use the pop up magnifier, rest my forehead on the waist level finder’s frame and portraits are a breeze.

Focusing is done by the knob on the left hand side of the camera which has an ASA reminder dial in its end, and above the dial is a Depth of Field scale guide. Holding the focusing dial and keeping your finger over the shutter release when your image pops into focus, it’s a snap to get your shot. The shutter release is step-less and very responsive, especially easy to use if you add a soft release like I have. You can get very sharp images even taking shots as slow as 1/15 second by pulling down gently on the neck strap and bracing the camera against your body. A useful design trick is that the proper Sawyer’s/Topcon lens cap also acts as a shutter release lock.

Once you snapped your picture, film advance is lightning quick. The camera has a rapid-wind crank, automatic film counter, double exposure prevention and automatic shutter cocking, features not present on most of the other cameras of this type. 

The Lens and Shutter

Unlike the majority of 4×4 TLR’s, which had three element f/3.5 lenses, the Sawyer’s Mark IV has a fast four elements in three groups lens design of the Tessar type. Its taking lens is fast at f/2.8, and it’s got a three element Toko 60mm f/2.8 viewing lens. This fast lens was widely advertised in the marketing of the camera and puts it on par optically with the Rolleiflex f/2.8, yet for a fraction of the price. 

Yes, I have to point out that the full-sized Rolleiflex 2.8 has a Planar or Xenotar lens which are both five element lenses. So in that respect the Sawyer’s is not a match for a full-sized Rolleiflex. But Topcon lens optics were absolutely top-notch, some of the best ever made, and easily the match of the best German lenses of the era To put it in perspective, the US Navy exclusively used the Topcon Super-D and Topcon Topcor RE lenses for twelve years, until Topcon stopped making the camera.

The taking lens is matched to the Seikosha MXL shutter, which was the Japanese top of the range shutter of the time, first available in 1957 and functionally equivalent to the famous Synchro-Compur with speeds from 1 second to 1/500 of a second, plus bulb mode for long exposures. Apart from being quiet, the shutter is almost vibration free, allowing hand-held shots as slow as 1/15th of a second. Be warned! Once the shutter is cocked you should not jump the setting to, or down from the 1/500 speed, as this can damage the shutter mechanisms dedicated spring for the top speed. The shutter has a selector for M, F, and X flash synchronization located on the lower shutter area operated by a red lever. Unless you plan on using a flash, leave it in the X position.

Light Value (LV) System

Like many cameras from the late 1950s, the Sawyer’s Mark IV uses the coupled LV (Light Value) system, sometimes called the EV or Exposure Value system. During the 1950s several camera manufacturers adopted this system, which coupled aperture and shutter speeds into a single number. The beauty of the system is that a number of combinations can be selected to give the same effective LV exposure. 

The aperture dial on the left-hand side of the taking lens shows Light Value of LV numbers from 3-18, and speed is controlled by the lever on the right-hand side with speeds from Bulb to 1/500^th. Because they are interlinked, movement of either corresponds to a movement of both. In practice, let’s say we set the speed to 1/50 and the aperture to LV3-f/2.8 the camera automatically links the two when we change them. This is a really useful function, and I like it as it operates like a primitive aperture priority mechanism, which is the way I prefer to shoot. 

Accessories

The Sawyer’s Mark IV and nearly all of the 4×4 127 film TLR cameras take Rollei Bay I or B30 lens accessories (apart from the lens hood, which like the Baby Rolleiflex has a small cutout). I strongly advise getting UV filters to prevent damage to the lenses, and if you are shooting black-and-white film, the yellow and red filters are handy. In general, any Bay I lens accessory will fit, and apart from UV filters you really need a lens hood; if you cannot find an original then cheap modern copies are available.

Auxiliary Telephoto and Wide Angle lens attachments were made by a variety of manufactures, the best quality is the Yashinon version. If you like shooting portraits then the Rolleinar is a fantastic addition to the camera, but do some research to make sure you get the full set in Bay I. Last of all, a very useful but sadly quite expensive accessory is the Rolleilux, a combined lens hood and light meter which comes with its own leather case. 

Final Thoughts 

Although I really love this camera, I don’t profess to be an expert on this type of camera, so here are some quotes from people far more knowledgeable than I am. 

Pierre Dirapon from Belgium runs a highly-detailed site about TLR cameras. He wrote an exhaustive review of 4×4 TLR cameras and also gave the Sawyer’s high accolades, writing “The Sawyer’s Mark IV (and its Japanese counterpart Primo Jr) hovers far above the pack, both in terms of manufacturing finish and optical performance. The perceived quality of use is truly impressive.” Read more of his review (in French) here.

John Marriage was the Editor of Photographica World, the journal of the Photographic Collectors Club of Great Britain for sixteen years and sixty issues. He wrote a highly detailed comparison of these cameras “The Doomed 4×4 127 TLR” in Issue No. 162. He also rated the Sawyer’s Mark IV and Primo Jr the best of all the copies he reviewed for its quality, practicality and great lens. 

“In October 1958, using money earned mowing lawns that summer, I went to my local Sears, Roebuck in York, Pennsylvania and bought my first good camera, a Sawyer’s Mk IV for $89.95 with case. I used it very heavily through college, until about 1966, and I still have it plus the Sawyer’s-brand lens shade and flash. Very sharp lens and only a small, light handful so easy to use. Its Topcor f/2.8 60mm lens was amazingly sharp, and great 8x10s were available from ASA 125 Verichrome Pan. The camera’s main advantage is that it is light and compact plus rugged and reliable. The shutter is almost silent, too. Too bad 127 film is now so hard to find.” – Frank Barrett (paraphrased)

Should You Buy a Sawyer’s Mark IV (Topcon Primo Jr.) 

There are plenty of reasons to buy a Sawyer’s Mark IV. It’s a beautifully designed TLR camera with all the features of the Rolleiflex. The whisper quiet Seikosha MXL shutter and waist level finder are ideal for street photography. It has a truly superb 60mm f/2.8 Tessar design lens capable of fine 8×10” prints. It has the brightest Fresnel screen of all the comparable cameras. The handy LV shutter system makes setting exposure a breeze. Accessories are regular Bay I, which are cheap and easy to find. It makes Super-Slides which are 85% larger than normal slides. It’s completely mechanical, no batteries are required, and if serviced it will still work in fifty years. It’s smaller and lighter than a Rolleiflex, and far less expensive.

I know I’ve waxed lyrically about the camera, so I have to be objective and point out that this isn’t a camera for everyone. There are plenty of reasons not to buy a Sawyer’s Mark IV.

As I’ve pointed out previously, it shoots 127 film, which isn’t as easy to find as 35mm or 120 film, costs more than these film formats, and is more difficult to develop and scan than 35mm. B&H stocks 127 film, but there are times when it’s back ordered for months. There’s no internal light meter. It’s completely manual, so not a good fit for total beginners. The square format can be love or hate. Any camera this old should receive a clean and overhaul and there aren’t many qualified repair-persons working these days.

As far as rarity, roughly 27,000 non-metered versions of the Sawyer’s Mark IV like mine were produced, 5,000 later non-metered models with the Seikosha-SLV shutter, and 4,000 of the metered versions were produced. So, it is not a terribly rare camera, but it is hard to find one in mint condition like mine. 

When buying one the same rules apply as for most vintage cameras and you need to pay special attention to the quality of the lenses. The critical lens is the lower taking lens, you can get away with a poorer quality viewing lens, but any defects in the taking lens can potentially show up in your shots. Topcon lenses from this era can be prone to haze or fungus to unless you are inspecting the camera in person when buying ask very specific questions to ensure that the lens has no haze, fungus, coating chips, scratches, balsam separation, internal dust or cleaning marks. The majority of cameras of this type that were used will have cosmetic issues, but that doesn’t equate with how they function. If in doubt ask the seller for an image shot through the lens, and some additional photos of the lenses and the interior of the camera. 

Again, like all vintage cameras I strongly advise getting it serviced as the internal grease used to lubricate the shutter and mechanisms will have dried out and you can damage a camera by using it if it’s not properly serviced. If you find a good one and have it serviced it will last you many years and provide beautiful images like mine. 

Want your own Sawyer’s Mark IV?

Get it on eBay here

Follow Casual Photophile on Facebook and Instagram

[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.]

Acknowledgements 

Special thanks to Mike Novak for his image of the three versions of the 4×4 127 cameras, and Brian Cassey for the close-up shots of my Sawyer’s Mark IV. Further thanks to John Marriage for proofreading the article for accuracy. 

The post The Sawyer’s Mark IV – A Miniature Rolleiflex 2.8 appeared first on Casual Photophile.

There’s a path near my house that meanders through a sprawling field and eventually leads to a rocky perch overlooking a bay. In spring and summer, the field is full of wildflowers and the ocean water is, if not exactly warm, then at least not incompatible with life. In winter, the field is stripped, the turf is yellow, and the water is freezing. In any season, there’s nowhere that Cooper would rather be. The long walk to the beach gives him room to run, and the ocean offers this waterdog a natural habitat. He swims, no matter the temperature.

I take Cooper to this bay as often as I can, and long-time readers have seen the place before. Many of the articles on this website have featured photos of my lovable, idiot dog in various states of filthiness, the ocean bay stretching off into the background. But we don’t go there often enough, and Cooper’s days are numbered. So when I stumbled upon an unusually old roll of Kodak Plus X film and wondered where and what to shoot with it, the answer came automatically.

What is Kodak Plus X

The roll of film was found stashed in the belly of some ancient, leather sack, bursting with photographic goodness from the 1960s. This happens a lot. We take a giant shipment of camera gear into the shop and find a cornucopia’s worth of accessories and books and manuals and filters and expired film – the bread and butter of brick and mortar camera shops which themselves long ago expired.

Mostly we toss the expired film into a cooler and give it away throughout the year. We try to only sell new film, as we can’t guarantee the efficacy of expired stock and we don’t want people to waste their time and money, or miss an important shot on account of unreliable film. But this roll of film was different. I’d never seen it before, and the canister was eye-catching. A brilliant color scheme of yellow against magenta, blocky text and an older Kodak logo. I slipped it into a vintage, metal Kodak film holder and slipped that in turn into a glass cabinet where I put things that tickle my fancy – the “do not sell” case.

Some quick research revealed the details of the film inside; Kodak Plus X Pan, a black-and-white panchromatic 125 ISO film. Plus X was first produced as motion picture film in 1938, and then offered in 35mm and medium format for still cameras beginning in the 1940s. It remained in production with minor changes for over seventy years, until its discontinuation in 2011.

My roll dates from a period before the switch from earlier 20 exposure rolls to newer 24 exposure rolls, which occurred in the late 1970s. With this fact, and some sleuthing over graphic design changes and cross-referencing of expiration dates of similar looking rolls, the evidence seemed to indicate that my roll of film was likely produced sometime between 1969 and 1979. That means that this roll of film would be, at the time of shooting, somewhere between forty to fifty years old. My expectations were suitably restrained.

Making the Shots

There’s a whole lot of dubious information on the internet about shooting expired film. A small percentage of this advice is great, and comes from experienced shooters who are qualified to give it. All of the rest is not. The challenge, generally speaking, is that the unqualified advice is indistinguishable from the sage wisdom because there’s no one to tell us what’s true. This is the internet that we have built, one in which editors and gatekeepers have been discarded in the pursuit of egalitarian publishing and free information. It’s chaos, but then again, I’m part of the problem.

One famously obtuse wisdom is the “over-expose by one stop for every decade past expiration” rule. I scoffed at this rule the last time I wrote about expired film. The truth is, this rule is silly. It may anecdotally have worked for some of us in the past, but it’s unscientific at best, downright idiotic at worst. The age of the film is just a single variable in a multivariate equation in which it’s nearly always true that none of the other variables are known. Without knowing how the film was stored or without factoring for film speed or development chemicals, for example, we can’t get consistent or predictable results from expired film. For these reasons, my only unbreakable rule when shooting expired film is to expect the worst.

The question remained; how do I shoot this stuff?

When I loaded the decades-old Kodak Plus X, I knew there would likely be some fogging from decades of background radiation. Then again, slower speed film fogs less than higher speed film, so the relatively low ISO of Plus X would work in my favor. And black-and-white film is more stable compared with color films. I’ve shot slow expired slide film at box speed and it’s come out great. I’ve over-exposed Konica VX film by four stops and got nothing back but underexposed slop. Shooting expired film really can be miserable.

For this particular excursion into misery, I decided on an ISO setting of 50. I suspected that this would help me burn through whatever fog may have bloomed in the four or five decades that the film had sat dormant (in a freezer? closet? coal scuttle? fallout shelter?) and help conjure up some shadow detail in my final images. I also recognized that this might result in blown highlights and require adjustment to my development process. Then again, thinking about all of the variables and possible failure points annoyed me, and I had two kids and a dog to wrangle. I decided to stop worrying and shoot.

I chose to shoot this film in my Leica R5 for three reasons. First, the R5 would allow me to manually set my ISO, a necessity for reasons which I’ve already posited. Next, the R5 has a phenomenally accurate light meter and would allow me to shoot in aperture-priority auto-exposure mode. Lastly, the camera owns (and the 21mm Super Angulon attached to it owns, too).

The drive to the path that leads to the bay is quick, about three minutes. Cooper’s face is pressed against the front window as he rides co-pilot, my very own Chewbacca. The girls are in the back, laughing and singing. Life is good.

We get to the field and spill out of the car. Cooper’s ready to run, and off he goes. The girls pick their way along the path behind me, aged four and almost-three, not too sure on their feet as they shimmy across the frozen earth. I get to shooting, while calling over my shoulder to watch for ice and snow.

There’s nothing too miraculous happening here, not much to point a camera at unless you’ve read Carl Sagan and appreciate the impossible luck that’s allowed me and my kids to exist and walk and enjoy the seasons and the planet. There’s not much to notice unless you look close and discover the seedlings that have frozen into crystalline starbursts in a three-inch deep puddle, a miniature glacier with all the depth of a swirling galaxy. Not much to appreciate unless you’re waxing nostalgic about your dog and his life, and how little of it he has left.

I think there’s always something to photograph because there’s always something for which to be grateful. But I guess I’m feeling too grateful, because before we’ve reached the ocean my film frame counter’s already reading 21. And this film is supposed to allow just 20 exposures.

We get to the beach, and without hesitation Cooper’s in the water. The girls are looking for shells and I want a shot of my dog up to his neck in ocean. I get as close as I can and take the shot. It’s the only one I get, because when I advance the film it catches halfway. The 20 exposure roll is exhausted. A quick rewind and it’s time to switch to the Canon MC point-and-shoot (review coming) and the digital Sony a7 I’ve brought for product photos. When I notice that the Sony is missing its memory card, I swear in frustration. My daughter rightly scolds me for saying mean things as I stow the useless digital device in my bag and give up on photography for the day. Oh well.

Cooper spends the next half hour diving in and out of the water. He plunges his face under the waves like a duck hunting whatever it is ducks hunt when they dive, and rises a handful of seconds later with an enormous rock in his mouth. This he proudly carries to the shore, deposits it on the sand, and turns back to repeat the chore. In a few moments he’s made quite an impressive cairn.

The girls and I find shells and examine pebbles and sea glass while Cooper laps back and forth twenty feet out to sea. He occasionally storms the beach and sprints past, splashing us with sand and mud and saltwater. Five years ago I’d be annoyed. Now, I just laugh along with my kids. When it’s time to head home, he leaps from one rock to the next, and down the path back to the car, spry as he was back when. He’s happy and healthy and looking young.

Developing the Film

In preparation for the developing of my decades old film, I asked around for advice. The horrendous repository of unceasingly bad information known as  Facebook photography groups resulted in about forty suggestions of different processes, with each suggester claiming that theirs was the only method that would produce a usable image. Other more trusted sources gave me extremely complicated and time-consuming development methodology that would have likely resulted in the best images possible if only I wasn’t, quite frankly, too lazy and busy to bother with them. In the end, I laid my film at the alter of Kodak.

I found an old data sheet in Kodak’s archives which gave me all of the information I’d ever need on the later formulation of Kodak Plus X. This naturally included development times. I took their recommended development time and unscientifically added two minutes. “That oughta do something. What’s the worst that could happen.”

After fifteen minutes or so my negatives begin their rinse in cold water. A few minutes later I pull them from the spool and we have images. What a relief. More than a relief, what a surprise. This film is forty-something years old! And the photos are actually pretty good. Sharp, fine grained, nice tonality. I like them. And with expired film, that’s all I can hope for.

In the End

I end my experience shooting a roll of Kodak Plus X that’s older than I am, impressed. The images aren’t perfect, of course. There’s a loss of shadow detail, and the highlights are blown in places, and all of the photos taken indoors weren’t usable due to under-exposure. It’s possible that I could have rated my film at ISO 25, or developed longer, or used stand developing, and thus increased my hit rate. But my history with expired film told me that I was wasting my time. That this ancient roll of film would yield nothing but foggy, vague, and unusable photos, so I didn’t try very hard.

But I’m glad I shot this stuff. It’s reaffirmed my love for film and reminded me that I need to shoot more black-and-white. I’ll do that, and spend however long I can capturing Cooper and my girls on Kodak T-Max and Ilford Delta and whatever else catches my eye.

My cat died a few months ago. I’m not sobbing about it, but I admit that it’s sad and I do wish he was still alive. Cooper’s undeniably getting old. It takes him longer to rise from a laying position, and I can see his legs tremble almost imperceptibly between laps around the house, laps which take longer than they would’ve two years ago. I don’t know that he’ll still be here two years from now. It’s heartbreaking, but nothing lasts forever. Except, maybe, film.

Find your own expired Kodak Plus X on eBay

Buy fresh film from our own F Stop Cameras

Follow Casual Photophile on Facebook and Instagram

[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 Shooting a Forty Year Old Roll of Kodak Plus-X Film appeared first on Casual Photophile.

George Eastman’s first big contribution to photography was his invention of roll film. While experimenting in his home he created the first practical film in roll form, eventually patenting it in 1884 and releasing the first roll film camera, the Kodak Black, in 1888. The creation of roll film was the first step in photography’s journey toward democratization that continues today. Throughout most of the 19th century photography was the realm of a select few who had access to field cameras and the technical knowledge needed to successfully expose and process images. Roll film and the Kodak Black made photography more accessible to the average person and quickly made Eastman Kodak the world’s foremost supplier of film.

A Brief History of 127 Film

Unsatisfied with simply riding the success of their initial roll film, Kodak continued to search for ways to put their products into the hands of more potential photographers. In 1912, Kodak was about to release its newest and most consumer-friendly camera yet — the Vest Pocket Kodak (browse for Vest Pocket Kodaks via our eBay affiliate link here). As the name suggests, it was a folding camera capable of fitting in the vest pocket of the user. For a camera of such proportion to work, the company developed a new film format: 127 roll film.

Initially nicknamed vest pocket film after the camera it accompanied, the paperbacked film was 4.6 centimeters wide, placing it between medium format and 35mm film in terms of potential image area.

Early 127 cameras took eight exposures in the 4×6.5 format. Shooters would have the film developed and would typically receive paper contact prints, since enlargements were exceedingly rare in the early 20th century. A few years after its debut, Kodak released 127 film with its Autographic feature, which allowed the photographer to write on the back of the film while it was being used. 

The film was wildly successful on its release because of its affordability and the fact that the cameras using it — typically folding cameras — were so portable. When sales of practically everything were threatened by the Great Depression, manufacturers began offering cameras that squeezed sixteen 3×4 exposures onto a roll, giving consumers twice the bang for their valuable buck.

Despite its early success, the popularity of 127 film was quickly giving way to the more cost-efficient 35mm format. That format’s smaller size and greater number of exposures led to its widespread use by photographers during World War II. Despite lagging sales, 127 film continued to sell, and even experienced a revival of sorts in the 1950s with the release of many cameras that used it to produce 4×4 exposures. Cameras like the Imperial Satellite and Kodak Brownie were huge sellers, as they were both cheap and easy to use. The format remained popular in tourist destinations where vacationers preferred the larger 2” square transparencies 127 offered. Known as “superslides,” the projections were much more vivid and offered greater depth than 35mm film.

Despite this brief resurgence in popularity, the increasing automation in 35mm cameras continued to hurt sales of 127 film, and the introduction of 126 film in 1963 and 110 film in 1972, both of which used cartridges to take even more difficulty out of the process, all but crushed 127 as the choice for tourists and point-and-shooters.

It wasn’t until 1995 that Kodak ceased production of 127 film. But even in 2019, much like the film community itself, 127 refuses to disappear completely. Photographers wanting to try this now unusual format today still have the opportunity to do so with a number of interesting cameras.

The biggest obstacle to shooting 127 film today is finding some. A few 127 emulsions are still kicking around if you can find them in stock. For black-and-white shooters there’s Rollei Rera Pan 400, the Ilford HP5-inspired PAN 400 and the Rera Pan 100. For color, there’s the Rollei Crossbird, a “creative” 200 ISO-speed film that has to be cross-processed in C-41 chemicals and the Rera Chrome 100 slide film. Each roll costs between $10-15 and while there’s not a lot of choice, it’s still fresh film when you can find it in stock. A somewhat cheaper alternative is a number of expired 127 film available online, including Agfa Isopan, EFKE R100 Ilford FP4+ and more. There are also a number of mom-and-pops cutting down 120 film and spooling this onto 127 film spools, which are smaller. And it should finally be mentioned that developing 127 film is no more challenging or expensive than developing 120 film, and can be done at home with standard Patterson tanks and reels (which easily adjust for the size difference across 35mm, 120, and 127). 

127 Cameras for the Beginner and Pro

To shoot the film, you’ll need a camera. For the latter part of its existence, 127 film was geared toward those who didn’t want to fuss about with controls and settings, leading to most 127 cameras being as basic as the era allowed. This means they are often available in flea markets and junk shops for very little money.

Take for instance, the aforementioned Kodak Brownie and Imperial Satellite. Kodak produced millions of Brownie 127s in three variations in their UK factory from 1952 to 1967, often badging the exports to the United States as Brownie Starlet. Initially made from Bakelite (the first synthetic plastic), they had rotary shutters with speeds of 1/50th of a second or 1/40th of a second, and plastic Meniscus and Dakon lenses with focal ranges of 51mm and 64mm (both at fixed apertures of f/14). Taking a picture was easy: Just wind the film with a knob and push the shutter release. The camera only had one aperture and shutter speed, so just cross your fingers when you push the button.

Imperial was a camera brand made by the Herbert George Company of Chicago, who in 1961 became the Imperial Camera Company. They made a number of backlight and plastic cameras, including the first series of colorful cameras. These included models with outstanding names, such as the Debonair, Official Cub Scout, Official Girl Scout, Princess and the Mercury Satellite. Nearly all of these operate in the same method as the Brownie/Starlet, with plastic lenses and fixed shutter speeds and apertures. While they are available online for less than the price of a case of beer, it’s both cheaper and easier to just go to your local junk shop where they are frequently available in abundance. Be sure that the camera you are buying shoots the format film you want, however. Imperial’s 127 cameras have 127 in the name: the Imperial 127 Reflex, The Mercury Satellite 127 and the Imperial Satellite 127. Others shoot either 620 film or 120 film.

But to say that all 127 cameras are basic or consumer oriented cameras isn’t exactly true. The 127 format also birthed some truly impressive cameras from the likes of Rollei, Zeiss, and other legendary brands, which would feel just right in the hands of a seasoned professional photographer.

Shooters wanting a more premium experience will find it with the TLR Rolleiflex 4×4, also adorably called the Baby Rolleiflex and Baby Grey. Released in 1957, with a Schneider Xenar 60mm f/3.5 taking lens and Heidosmat 60mm f/2.8 taking lens, it produces twelve 4×4 cm images per roll. It is one of the finest 127 cameras ever made with a price tag that confirms its reputation. Today a Baby Rolleiflex in great condition can run between $400-500, a steep price to pay considering the meager film options available with which to use it.

Introduced around the same time as the Baby Grey, the Yashica-44 is another popular high-quality TLR 127 camera. It has a three-element Yashicor 60mm f/3.5 taking lens with a Copal shutter capable of speeds from 1 second to 1/500 second and bulb mode. Interestingly, the first 44 model initially sold for the same amount as Yashica’s medium format 6×6 TLR. Later, a more basic version, the 44A was developed with a more limited shutter and fewer creature comforts like a bayonet filter. A more elaborate model, the 44LM was also released, which came with a selenium-cell light meter and more modern design. The regular Yashica 44 typically sells for $100, with the 44A and 44LM models both varying greatly in price between $100-500.

Many other 127 cameras options abound, including the Kowa Komaflex-S, the Foth Derby, Ricoh Super 44. That’s without even getting into the seemingly endless number of folding cameras from the early part of the late century. The notable among them include the Zeiss Ikon Kolibri, Zeh Goldi and, of course, the Kodak Vest Pocket. These are typically available for much lower prices than the TLR cameras mentioned earlier. But they also come with the additional rigors and delicacy brought on by their age. It’s entirely possible that they will still produce many interesting images for many years. But they could equally end up nothing more than an artifact for your mantle or bookshelf. Which in and of itself isn’t entirely a bad thing either.

Is 127 worth the trouble today?

After all is said and done, you might be left with a nagging voice in your head asking, “Is shooting 127 film really worth the trouble?” Truth be told, it’s hard to answer in the affirmative. The film community is strong in its support of different stocks and formats — take the current attempt at reviving pack film for example. But when we defend the existence of a film (like Kodak Ektachrome, Fuji Acros, etc.) there’s typically something unique or advantageous that comes with it. It’s hard to find something unique about 127 film, or an advantage that it gives shooters over other formats. 35mm is both more portable and economic, while 120 offers a bigger negative at a cheaper cost. 127 film was in use before both of those, but lacks any clear advantage over either, unless you’re especially attached to a particular 127 camera.

With the rarity and cost of the few 127 film stocks remaining and the typically high cost of a quality camera to shoot it with, there’s no question that shooting 127 in 2019 is a labor of love and money. If it’s worth it in any way, it must be in a historical context. As the first format that really brought photography into the household, it’s a valuable experience to shoot 127 film with a Vest Pocket camera. But if you’re interested in doing so, might we recommend doing it sooner rather than later. There’s no telling how many more World 127 Film Days we’ll be able to celebrate.

Browse 127 film cameras on eBay via our affiliate links

Follow Casual Photophile on Facebook and Instagram

[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 Nearly Dead and Almost Forgotten – 127 Film Today appeared first on Casual Photophile.