Firstly, I owe a sincere apology to Julie Pearce, who attended the meeting in October with her husband Brian, who judged the photo competition. I referred to her as Judy in my report on the meeting.

Secondly, it is very disturbing to read in the press that Kodak has filed for bankruptcy protection – see page 18 for more information. The company that brought photography to the masses and subsequently started the digital revolution which has turned into its demise.

In the 1990′s, Kodak planned, over the next ten years, to move over to digital technology, developing digital cameras for other companies. Apple’s pioneering QuickTake consumer digital cameras, introduced in 1994, had the Apple label but they were in fact produced by Kodak.

Although digital camera technology has been evolving since the 1950′s, from the technology that recorded television images, and many companies notably Texas Instruments, Sony and Kodak themselves have developed various systems, it was Kodak who invented the first megapixel sensor in 1986. They led the way and in 1991 released the first professional digital camera system aimed at photojournalists. It was a Nikon F-3 camera fitted with a 1.3 megapixel sensor.

The first consumer level digital cameras were the Apple Quick Take 100 in 1994 and the Kodak DC 40 in 1995. Kodak developed a determined marketing campaign to help introduce the idea of digital photography to the general public. Through collaboration with Microsoft and others, digital imaging software was developed, enabling the storage, transfer and incorporation of digital images within documents. It was Hewlett- Packard who were the first company to make inkjet colour printers that complemented the new digital camera images.

Kodak subsequently failed to keep up with the developments in top end digital camera technology, ignored the middle market and just concentrated on the bottom end – now taken over by mobile phones – because they felt that they had a safe market in silver film developments. Once they realised that the film market was shrinking rapidly, it was too late and they were too far behind the rest of the field.

Thirdly, did anybody watch the drama about David Bailey and Jean Shrimpton – “We’ll Take Manhattan” on BBC Four recently? A very enjoyable viewing. Don’t forget to submit for the April issue…. …. and don’t forget the Meeting!

Contents:

Front Cover: “Rollei Cross” by Frank Clark.
3 Sue’s New Kitchen by Mike Anson
4 Rolleimarin Nr.504
6 Your Forum
8 Wanted
9 Rollei Spare Parts
9 Edale by Jim Graves
10 The History of 120 Film by Carlos Manuel Freaza & John Wild
13 Hidden Images by Frank Clark
14 My Rolleiflex T by Ron Wootton
15 Rollei club Auction and more…
16 The Year of the Rabbit by Brian Pearce
20 The Rollei 35 Series by David Morgan
24 Toys for the taking by Raymund Livesey
28 In Passing by David Morgan
29 Magnum Contact Sheets – a review by John Wild
30 The Parker Page
Back Cover: Photos of Whitby by Peter Moyse

Yet another summer has flashed by, however, I do remember promising myself that I would get out and take more photographs. This year I have; the South Downs Way, Oxford and a number of local black and white photos to frame. I enjoy planning an ‘expedition’, deciding what to take and ‘getting kitted up’. I usually find that my bag is too heavy to take a long way, so invariably I evict all but the essentials. That is one major advantage of a TLR, plus just a tripod, cable release and a few filters etc.

Having got something in my ‘hunting bag’, now that the days have become shorter, I will have the time to sort through, catalogue and scan the best of my images.

There definitely is something very rewarding about taking a film camera out for an airing; the fun of seeking out a suitable subject; positioning the camera to get the best composition and lighting; setting the correct exposure and finally pressing the release. The expectation of waiting for the result is part of the thrill of the hunt. Every time I look at my cameras, I think to myself, “I must go out with a camera more often…”

This week in Amateur Photographer, there was a supplement – “100 Greatest Cameras of all Time, as voted for by you”. Where did any Rolleis fit into that list? Rolleiflex 3.5F at 68; Rollei 35 at 65 and Rolleiflex 2.8F at 29. The Hasselblad 500C was at 31 and the 500CM at 11. Leicas had a good following; the highest were the M9 at 5 and M3 at 2. The EOS 5D Mk II was number 1. I was surprised by the amount of digital cameras, but then on reflection, many amateur photographers now will have cut their teeth on digital.

I asked myself  ”how many of the voters had actually used the cameras that they voted for and how many just aspired to their dream camera”. We are lucky now in that there are many film cameras on the second hand market, that we could only dream of owning in our days of enthusiastic productivity, whilst just making do with a meagre substitute. Now we can browse the dealers’ shelves and pick off some fine bargains. I wonder if that opportunity will arise, in 50 years time, for those who now aspire to the best digital Canons or Nikons or Leicas; I guess those cameras will have become all but irreparable, just a doorstop. Our mechanical Rolleis (and Leicas et al – I am not discriminatory) will go on long after the digitals have ended up in the £5 bin at Photographica.

Get out and use your Rollei, so others can see what enjoyment we have whilst setting up, composing and evaluating exposure before releasing the shutter, rather than just blazing off 50 shots on a digital, hoping that the camera will have captured one ‘goodie’.

Contents:
Front Cover: “One Man and his Rollei” by Michael Coles.
3 Welcome… from David Morgan
4 October Meeting 2011
6 Club Postal Competition 2011 judged by Brian Pearce F.R.P.S. 16 Agfa Rodinal – an Update
17 220 Film by John Wild L.R.P.S.
18 Rolleimarin Nr 504, Wanted, Denis Camp’s Auction Results and more…
19 The Rolleiflex Optical Flat Glass by David Morgan
20 Holiday Snaps by Jim Graves
21 Your Forum
22 The Goodwood Revival 2011 by Tom Sherlock
24 Piazza Venezia by Raymund Livesey
25 Rolleiflex Hy6, Rollei Series 35 case by Peter Manley and iPhone Accessories 26 The Royal Church of St Mildred’s by Michael Coles
28 Welcome to Santorini Part 2 by Denis Camp A.R.P.S.
30 Early Twin Lens Cameras by Ian Parker
Back Cover: “Garage at Amberley Museum” by John Wild L.R.P.

I wish I knew where the time went; I was determined to make an early start compiling this issue, but once again I have been burning the midnight oil to catch up…

I outline a basic plan for the next issue and how much space I will allocate to each article. This plan, with the best of intention, starts neatly written – not for long – I have many scraps of paper, scrawled with ‘memory joggers’ that come into my head when I am waiting at a train crossing or traffic lights. Many idle hours can be spent around Chichester, day dreaming, at the closed gates or at the local highways department’s determination to cause as much disruption to the traffic flow as possible with incessant red lights.

The problem, if I can call it a problem, is that this issue changed direction once I received an article from Jim Graves. I do not blame Jim, in fact I am very grateful to him, because as much as he enjoys writing (I hope!), I enjoy including his anecdotes because I am confident that you enjoy reading them. His article was the catalyst for a new direction. Having rearranged my listings, I will be able to keep the unused articles for another issue; but please do not ‘dry up’ on me, I need all the articles and photos that you can send in. Old cuttings or magazines too, they can be the source of valuable material, bringing back memories of times gone by.

John Wild capturing the cover of this months magazine with his Baby Rollei

I find this with my photography too, I must find a topic, whether it be broad like “Autumn” or specific like “Oak Leaves” to ‘seed’ my creativity. I also use my camera as a subject finder; a wide angle lens demands a different type of subject to a telephoto. I cannot go out with the intention of swapping lenses (zoom) to suit my position; I prefer to walk the camera to a more advantageous location.

Recently, in Amateur Photographer – this brings me onto my ‘favourite’ topic, digital – there was an article about memory cards for cameras; is the most expensive the best? The point that made me groan a little more, is that in the time it takes you to fill up a card, the card technology has moved on; capacity becomes larger and the access speed faster. It soon becomes evident that your expensive camera is no longer able to handle the latest card technology, neither able to write to nor read from. I have come close to experiencing this when I wanted a new card for my Canon 400D recently. I had difficulty finding a ‘slow’ 4Gb card. 4Gb is about the smallest still available and the largest my camera can take. So soon, my digital camera will just become a plastic ornament.

Contents:

Front Cover: Quinn by John Wild L.R.P.S.
3 Your Forum – continued on P.24
4 Rollei.org.uk Update by Andrew Dodson
5 The Rolleiflex Optical Flat Glass by David Morgan
6 Santorini by Denis Camp A.R.P.S.
10 The Rollei Creative Edition – www.maco.de
12 The Trespass Trail Memorial Plaque by Jim Graves
14 Visit to the Bradford National Media Museum
15 The Gay Photographer by George Grossmith
16 Architecture from around York by David Morgan
20 All the Fun of the Fair by Jim Graves
21 Photographica 2011 by David Morgan
22 Reader’s Photos – continued on P.19 and P.24
25 Graflex Century Graphic by John Wild L.R.P.S.
30 Old Films Revisited by APDOO
27 Dealers and Processing Labs
28 The Rollei 35 Series by David Morgan
Back Cover: Photos by Ken Roberts

This is not a Rolleiflex topic but in the last issue, I mentioned that I had bought a Polaroid 320 bellows camera for £5 and having made a simple battery holder to take CR2 lithium batteries and cleaned a few contacts, I had a good working camera. This is really about finding a cheap vintage second hand camera or accessory in unknown condition and having a go at getting it to a working condition…

Well, I came across a copy of ‘The Polaroid Book’ in a branch of The Works book shop. They buy up unsold stock and offer the books at ‘knockdown’ prices. I bought a copy and enjoyed flicking through its pages because there are many excellent images which all have a distinctive ‘spontaneous’ feel. Some are taken with the SX70, some with large format and some with the ‘pack’ films for the ’100′ cameras.

Spurred on to explore the medium further, I did some more research because I thought that a glass lens would improve image quality and to take portraits, I would have to get a close-up kit, which only available for the more expensive cameras with a Zeiss rangefinder. The 320 also has a separate rangefinder window next to the actual viewfinder, which is a disadvantage.

My research concluded that the best option, other than to go for the top of the range ‘professional’ 180, 185, 190 or 195 cameras, with manual shutter, which can cost up to £400 secondhand, was to find a model 360 with automatic exposure. Other than the professional models, it is the only model designed to take an electronic flash. The electronic flash is specific to this camera as it has a special electrical and mechanical coupling and also has a special charging unit.

These cameras were produced for the American market, having a 110v only charger.

As usual I searched Ebay and found one complete with flash, charger, close-up kit and Polaroid self timer, all in excellent condition, in a fitted Polaroid case. The purchase price was low, the carriage cost was more than the camera and then on top of that there is the import handling charge by Parcelforce plus, of course VAT on the whole lot. Not such a cheap purchase after all!

Polaroid 360 Automatic camera with Fujifilm FP-100C Instant Colour film

The kit was in good condition. The camera only required batteries, two this time – one for the shutter and one for the development countdown timer (just a ‘gadget’ and not essential to the camera’s operation). Duly fitted with two batteries, the camera worked perfectly with no further attention required than a cosmetic clean. It takes good photographs and with the close-up accessory, head and shoulder portraits are well within its capability. The flash however did not work – the description had stated ‘untested’ so I was not overly concerned. A search on the internet produced instructions on how to dissemble the flash in order to change the NiCd batteries. They had leaked badly and most of the inside was affected.

I contacted Andrew Bell and he said he could get a new battery pack made up. I ordered one. I then started to look further into the flash; a bit of a mess. I found a repair manual on the internet – essential as it turned out in this case.

The flash circuitry is very different. Part is in the flash gun and part is in the camera body – the capacitor, battery and tube are in the flash gun and the inverter and other electronic bits are in the camera. The flash is mechanically coupled to the focus control on the camera and alters the light output by opening and closing translucent louvres in front of the flash tube. Very ingenious. There is a discharge switch which permits the capacitor to be discharged when the flash is removed from the camera or charger – the charger keeps the capacitor charged ‘exercising’ it so it will always give maximum output and charge quickly from the NiCd’s.

The on/off switch had split apart, the discharge switch contacts were corroded; the electrical contact socket to the camera was corroded….

A complete strip-down and clean ensued; new on/off switch installed, then when ‘cramming’ the capacitor into the casing, the solder contact broke off the discharge switch, right in the bowels of the unit. Not a good time to be in earshot!

This switch is one component that is purpose made for that task. It is repairable – I think – but it may be easier to try to fit a miniature push button switch in its place.

Currently it is still disassembled awaiting further attention. Anyhow, I saw another complete 360 camera complete, in its original box – for less than I paid for the first one. Supposedly all working… (now just arrived and yes it is!)

I believe that if it isn’t broken, don’t try to fix it; if it doesn’t work anyway, you can’t be any worse off by trying to fix it.

I have written this article on the Rolleiflex camera as an icon or a symbol, i.e. how the camera and the brand name were seen by the public or from a photographer’s eye in the “golden age”, and how we continue to see it today.

Which Rolleiflex shall we consider here?

Well, to put it briefly, I will only consider here the Rolleiflex Twin-Lens Reflex (TLR) [1] , the famous camera created by Paul Franke & Reinhold Heidecke in Brunswick (Braunschweig), Germany, in 1929. The Rolleiflex TLR is THE camera which in itself represents the brand name; created prior to any other Rolleiflex model, with the exception of early stereo-cameras. The TLR has such a prominent position among Rollei products, that if you are speaking about a Rolleiflex camera to a friend, he will probably have the TLR in mind, regardless of numerous other Rollei camera models, including Single-Lens Rolleiflex reflex cameras manufactured to date [2], even if the product is a “true” Rollei or even labelled “Rolleiflex”!

Rolleiflex: a grandfather’s camera?

I belong to a generation whose grandfather and grandmother, born in the last decades of the 19th century, had only a very minimal knowledge and experience about photography, probably they had only sat in front of a camera in a professional photographer’s studio for their wedding or with their children. By no means could my grandparents afford to own and use a camera, except if they were named Lartigue, like the famous French photographer, the son of a very rich family, or if they had been passionate amateurs who could devote a substantial budget to their photographic hobby.

Between the first and the second world war, everything changed, the revolution of popular photography arrived: my father and mother, each had their own camera in the mid-1930′s, a folding rollfilm camera like so many that were manufactured at the time. But no “dad’s Rolleiflex” as far as I am concerned, not even a Rolleicord: the item was probably too new and too expensive in comparison with so many affordable rollfilm folding cameras that anybody could easily acquire.

Many of those cameras used the 2-1/4″ by 3-1/4″ (6×9 as we say in the metric jargon) image format and prints were only by contact print for the family album. Many roll film sizes were available on the market before the second world war, but only the 120, 127 and 220 survive today [3].

In the 1930s, most amateurs used folding rollfilm cameras like this folding Voigtländer model, designed for the 129 size rollfilm (image size 5x8 cm; this kind of rollfilm, like many others, was discontinued after the second world war).

At the time, the professional photographer’s working tool was always a large format bellows camera and photography meant using a bellows and a tripod. The bellows and tripod as photographic icons survived until the seventies, although many photographers had abandoned the large format on a tripod at the beginning of the sixties, except for architecture shots and studio use.

After the second world war, my mother stopped taking pictures, which is a real pity, but my father continued, faithfully, using rollfilm folding cameras in the fifties: an Agfa Isolette 6×6 and a Voigtländer Bessa 6×9. Abruptly he moved to a 35 mm SLR in 1963, the reason was certainly the availability of 35mm Kodachrome slide film as a high-quality, yet affordable, source of colour images for the family… but no longer for the family album. As a conclusion of the story, no Rolleiflex can be found in my family tradition, no “dad’s TLR” that I could dream about… or to mock, as an old-fashioned and obsolete camera.

The reporters’ choice!

Taking into account our “zero-Rollei involvement” family history, special circumstances were needed, which followed a contoured path as opposed to a direct route, before I eventually ‘met’ a Rolleiflex in real life. Of course, in the period 1960-1970, the Rolleiflex TLR was still very famous and known worldwide [4], but was also gradually standing down from a top-position among professional cameras. The Rollei company was severely re-organised after the death of the last father-founder, Reinhold Heidecke, in 1960. A new management team came in, with the hard challenge of stopping an abrupt fall in sales figures. In the years 1960-1970, Rollei / F&H was facing the gradual rise of Japanese competitors, like all other German photo manufacturers, and the arrival of the 35mm SLR camera as the new “industry standard” working tool of all photo-reporters was not likely to improve the situation; on the contrary.

In France, in the seventies, the context was certainly not favourable for the Rollei TLR. But I had the opportunity to meet, in my home town of Besançon, a friendly professional photographer working routinely with a Rolleiflex SL-66; he also owned a Rolleiflex TLR. I had never heard about Hasselblad cameras, a brand name perfectly invisible to the general public in the sixties before the NASA Apollo project. Totally immersed in a photographic world where the 35mm camera ruled, including my father’s Contaflex, the dominant 35mm format (24×36 as we say in France) would definitely hide the medium format from all beginner’s eyes, being fascinated by “modern” photographic technology. After meeting this professional photographer friend, the only vision I had of medium format cameras was the old-fashioned folding cameras of my father and mother, plus of course my friend’s professional Rolleiflex models, the SL-66 and the TLR.

With the money from one of my first wage payments in 1976, I acquired a medium format enlarger (the French-made Ahel 6×7 cm) instead of a plain and cheaper 35mm model, the (reasonable, admittedly) excuse being that “I had to sort and print all family archives recorded on black and white medium format rollfilms since approx. 1935” (actually, plus a few modern 35mm B&W films from my father’s Contaflex, and from my own first camera, a Voigtländer Bessamatic).

Carl Zeiss Tessar and Syncro-Compur marked on my Rolleiflex T, which caught my eye before I knew anything about "Rolleiflex" or "Franke & Heidecke".

I was eventually hooked. First, I discovered the incredible print image quality that I could extract from my father’s 1935 negatives, much bigger than a tiny stamp-sized 24x36mm frame. I discovered the pleasure of human-readable, home-made contact prints from those medium format negatives, 40 years after they had been exposed and processed. Then, I had a shock, while travelling abroad and meeting a tourist using a Yashica-mat 6×6 TLR, looking at the “big” ground glass; back home, by a strange coincidence, I discovered that the local photo shop downtown had a Rolleiflex TLR for sale, at an affordable price [6]…

Looking back to those happy years, I now realise that the “decisive moment” occurred when I discovered  the Rollei TLR camera on display at the shop; another strong combination of German brand names, but not that of the “Rollei” brand nor “Franke & Heidecke”: I had never heard about Franke & Heidecke, I discovered these names engraved on the face plate of a Rollei TLR displayed for sale at the shop downtown; again, the strong image of the Rolleiflex camera would hide the name of the father founders [7 from the public.

The Rolleiflex’s deserved reputation of excellence is clearly indebted to the quality of Zeiss products, first Carl Zeiss Jena, then Carl Zeiss Oberkochen lenses, plus Deckel-Compur leaf shutters (a defunct company of the Zeiss group located in Munich).

In fact, what triggered the “must have” decision of a young amateur ready to succumb to the appeal of a 6×6 camera were Magic Words: “Carl Zeiss Tessar Nr.” [5] and “Synchro Compur”, the very first photographic words I had read on my father’s Contaflex Tessar lens. The Rolleiphile reader will easily understand that the decision was irreversible; at a time when all my friends only swore by Japanese 35mm reflex cameras with interchangeable bayonet-mount lenses, chosen from one brand out of the “Gang-of-Four”, I would, of course, preciously keep my Voigtländer Bessamatic (bought second-hand at the same time and in the same Parisian shop as the enlarger, this Bessamatic being the cousin, within the Zeiss Group and rival of my father’s Contaflex), but I would continue my photographic journey in medium format with the Rolleiflex.

One of the first opportunities I had to try the Rolleiflex TLR was at a family meeting; one of my uncles, looking at my camera, said: “Ah! A Rollei! The famous reporters’ camera!”

I had started to read what I could find about Rollei cameras in those pre-Internet years, I did not dare to contradict my uncle, explaining to him that he was an old-timer, and that modern photo-reporters, as of 1977 [8], had stopped using the Rollei TLR for at least one decade. In fact, I did not wish to “work” like a professional photo-reporter at all; what I needed was simply a top-class medium format camera capable of delivering top-class home-made prints, far beyond what I had already experienced with my own 35mm negatives and like those in the pre-1960 family archives in B&W.

Eventually, and it is only recently, thanks to the Internet, that I discovered what had been the success of the Rollei TLR among professionals, before and after the second world war, the huge Northern-American market which greatly helped German (and Japanese) camera manufacturers to re-start in the fifties; the fact that almost all professional photo-reporters in the fifties worked with one or several Rollei TLR cameras. The tiny bits of information I had read about the Rolleiflex in the late seventies, were actually only an echo of what had been a golden age for the Braunschweig company, the last written evidence of a vanishing world, and not at all a dispassionate, objective, technical description of a wonderful optical and mechanical photographic machine-tool, still capable of being in the top-five of the photographic race towards superb images.

It is Doisneau’s camera!

When the Rollei photographer needs to frame and focus, or when he has to measure incident or reflected light, the manufacturer’s recommendation is to bow respectfully to the subject.

Before 1977, as explained, I had no idea about Rollei cameras, and if I knew that the Rolleiflex was the “reporter’s camera”, I had no idea about famous artists who had worked with a Rollei. The probability that I had ever heard about Robert Doisneau was simply nil. Living in a small city far from Paris, during a period of time (1960-1975) when Doisneau’s pictures and his Parisian world were ignored, forgotten or simply out of fashion and it was only after 1980, being a student in Paris, that my friends introduced me to Doisneau’s work and world. I discovered that many of his well-known pictures, which became fashionable again in the last years of the artist’s life [9], had actually been taken with several Rollei TLR models. I had a strange feeling, reading what Doisneau says in his memoirs, about the “humble attitude” of the Rollei photographer using the waist-level finder: using a Rollei without the accessory prism, you have to bow respectfully to your model (whether you like it or not), when you focus on the ground glass.

Having been trained as a student in physics, not in fine arts nor in psychology, the ideas I had about the Rolleiflex folding viewing hood, and the photographer bowing his head while framing, only evoked in me something very prosaic; “down-to-earth” technical compromise and certainly not a strong point in favour of the Rollei in the special and respectful relationship between the model and the photographer. I considered the folding viewing hood as a remarkable device, extremely compact once folded, a kind of a cleverly designed mechanical toy, so addictive for your fingers once you’ve started to use it. Thanks to this device coupled to the reflex mirror, you can enjoy seeing the image “up” and not “head-down”, with no heavy penta-prism, but you have to accept a left-right reversed image.

After reading Doisneau’s remark about being respectful to your model, thanks to the Rollei folding viewfinder, it was difficult not to find the “direct” viewing system of the 35mm camera, be it a reflex SLR or a rangefinder model, terribly aggressive. The folding viewfinder is a common feature to many medium format reflex cameras. Does the Rollei TLR have something really special? Very probably, yes, because it is a “TLR” with a fixed, non-moving reflex mirror. All medium format SLRs sound noisy with their big flipping mirror, compared to the TLR, which has are almost no moving parts (except the compur’s mechanism) after you’ve pulled the trigger. And, looking for other references to this subject, you can find situations for which a 6×6 camera with a folding hood will look extremely aggressive… [10] .

The legendary folding hood of the most recent Rolleiflex models was invented by Mr. Richard Weiß; it was introduced on the market in 1958, and once the patent had expired, has been copied by most manufacturers of medium-format cameras.

The quality of Doisneau’s images printed in many books, that can be easily found today, are amazing when one thinks about the hand-held work, often in available light with B&W films, far removed from the increased sensitivity and fine granularity that can be found now, in the 21st century. As a Rolleiphile I should not be amazed. I have been using a Rolleiflex TLR for one-third of a century, I know what can be done with a Rollei, but it is always best to see and admire what a sensitive “humanist” photographer like Doisneau was able to create with the same camera.

Rolleiflex-Doisneau – for a Frenchman the association is too easy, now that Doisneau’s Rollei images have been celebrated all over the world, but the association with the Rollei is not as obvious as it may seem. Doisneau has also worked with many large format cameras; he remembers some of  the pre-war 13×18 cm models with all their glass plates and accessories as being as heavy as a dead donkey. In addition to his work as an advertising photographer for Renault cars before the war, he has contributed to many fine art books with nice B&W pictures taken with a large format camera, following the great tradition. Doisneau was not “married” to the Rolleiflex, but the gradual demise of the Rollei TLR in the years 1960-1975 is by coincidence exactly contemporary to the loss of interest for Doisneau’s work, at least in France. If Doisneau had chosen to work with a Rollei before the war, it is probably because he needed a light-weight camera for his personal projects, without sacrificing too much of the image quality he was accustomed to, from his previous large format work.

The classical Rollei features an additional reflex mirror, allowing the user to have an efficient control of the image sharpness on the ground glass even when using the “sports” viewfinder. Too bad, this feature, not offered on the “amateur-grade” Rolleicord and T models, was abandoned after 1987 for all subsequent TLR models.

And of course, like many other photographers, he moves to a 35mm camera in the sixties; a majority of his remarkable images of “modern” Paris being spoilt by concrete buildings and jammed car traffic, could not have been made with a Rollei TLR. In a famous collective book, on assignment with a team of photographers for the French DATAR government agency [11] , my feeling is that most of Doisneau’s images have been made with a 35mm camera, whereas other photographers in the same assignment worked with a large format camera.

A luxury collectible item, or a precision manually-operated machine tool?

After the bankruptcy of the former Rollei Werke company in 1981, the logic should have commanded that the Rolleiflex TLR definitely ceased to be manufactured. In 1982 and 1983, a limited series of 2.8 F “Aurum” TLRs were fabricated with the remaining stock of parts still available from the last batches of 2.8 F cameras. Another series, the “Platinum” would follow in 1984 and 1989; meanwhile the 2.8GX was introduced (or re-introduced) in 1987.

Simple logic should have called for the definite end of the Rollei, and taking into account its past celebrity, the object should have been mummy-fied for eternity like in a pharaoh’s tomb, with only one possible use of this historical artefact: remaining on display in the private chapel of a fortunate collector, and certainly not in action in the field like hundreds of thousands of Rolleis still in operation today.

This image of a luxury item or a mummy-fied artefact is exactly at the opposite end to the real spirit of the Rollei TLR. At least, it is in absolute contradiction to how I perceive the Rollei since I have been using one routinely from 1977.

In my mind, the Rolleiflex is similar to small manually-operated machine-tools that can still be found in many mechanics workshops and various industries [12] . Certain precision models are still manufactured. Big manually-operated lathes are no longer in use, exactly like in the studios, big monorail view cameras are no longer used, if not definitely discarded (and hopefully recycled) as scrap metal like all obsolete machines. Of course, in photography, everybody knows about the “modern” methods and production tools required to stay alive within a strongly competing environment and now “everybody” is supposed to work with a digital camera and digital images. Mechanics workshops actually moved to “digital” with CNC (computer numerically controlled) machine-tools long before photo studios moved to digital imaging, and the printing industry has been, for a long time, using CTP (computer to plate) production systems for which analog photogravure had been made obsolete a long time before professional photographers actually stopped using film.

The Rollei is a production machine-tool whereas a jewel, being a luxury item cannot produce anything [13] . Exactly like precision machine-tools, the Rollei can be repaired almost indefinitely. It can be cleaned, lubricated, mechanically (and optically) re-aligned exactly like a classical lathe; and when the machine comes back from the repair shop, it can be used again for years or for decades without failure, at least if operated and maintained by a careful “machinist”. An amateur who acquires a second-hand Rollei, after a serious overhaul, can be proud to continue “working” with a camera which has faithfully served a professional in the past. The machine has to work hard, it is not designed to stay idle on a shelf, or even worse: on display behind the glass window of a bookcase, like in some private libraries, where books are only there on display, protected from dust, as a social symbol, and not for a reader to touch, open and read them.

It does not really matter that the Rollei is slightly scratched, as long as the mechanism operates smoothly, without play, and with the optics in perfect condition, no lens separation, no scratchs and (more importantly) no fungus. The Rollei’s images, exactly like when using an old manually-operated precision lathe recently overhauled, will still be perfect [14] , even 50 years after the camera was manufactured.

The Rollei has been designed exactly for this purpose: to be a precise and faithful machine-tool and stay so, for years and years of intensive use.

The Braunschweig area where the camera was born is a mining and metallurgy area. Wolfsburg, one of the biggest industrial automotive centres in Germany is not far away. This world is a factory workers’ world, similar in many aspects in France to the North of France (mining), the Lorraine area (mining and metallurgy), Belfort and Montbéliard cities in Franche-Comté (where Peugeot still maintains and operates one of its most important car factory – actually the biggest industrial factory in France); or, as I imagine in the UK, Sheffield and other famous historical metallurgy cities of England. Yes, this is how I see the Rollei’s world, closer to Sheffield than jewellery shops at Place Vendôme in Paris; I cannot see the images of luxury goods associated with this industrial environment of Braunschweig.

Well, previous “Aurum” and “Platinum” models, as well as the 80th anniversary special edition of 3 gold-plated Rolleis [15] seem to be in total contradiction with the previous arguments… so, let us say that the world of the future owners of this very special case, in precious wood, with three luxury TLRs has little chance of meeting the world of Braunschweig’s factory workers; exactly like the friendly atmosphere of small cafés where watchmakers meet for a beer after working hours in the Swiss Jura (La Chaux de Fonds, Le Locle) has little in common with the world of luxury watch collectors who get crazy for the last “complicated” Swiss Made mechanical watches.

Classical and traditional, a camera very well supported by Japanese customers:

When the Rolleiflex 2.8GX was re-launched in 1987, it was a bit difficult to figure out who would be the potential customers. In France, the camera was not well received and was bitterly criticised by Paul Salvaire [16] in a reference book on all medium-format cameras available on the market at that time. The 2.8GX does not seem to be very interesting to professionals, and it is too expensive to be attractive to amateurs who can look for a second-hand Rollei in the huge stock of used cameras already available on the pre-Internet market of 1987 … this being still true today. Hence, the future of the 2.8GX camera, as of 1987, looked bleak. Nevertheless, as of 2011, which of the medium-format cameras available in 1987 are still in production, and can be purchased as a new item? In the very short list of survivors, not only you’ll find the 2.8 FX, the slightly modified successor of the 2.8GX, but you’ll also find, and this is totally unexpected, the newly designed wide-angle Rolleiflex 4.0 FW and the tele-Rolleiflex 4.0 FT.

In 1987, the Rollei design team decided to change the external “look” of the Rolleiflex. The style was modernised, the lettering was changed to more modern fonts; in order to reduce manufacturing costs, certain non-essential mechanical refinements were abandoned. The 2.8GX is fitted with a modern electronic built-in light metering system, derived from the developments of the SLX and 600x camera series. An attempt was made to rejuvenate the camera’s image: its look should be less austere [17] . Apparently, it was difficult to find a new style; other limited series were issued and an attempt was made again, with grey leatherette, in order to change from the traditional black-and-chrome finish.

In 2002, the 2.8GX was replaced by the 2.8 FX; a classical style was eventually back, lettering fonts were chosen similar to the pre-war ones, leatherette, again, was black and austere, the famous scissor-clips for the neck-strap were back like in the 1958-1981 era…

Why? Probably one should look here to the demand of Japanese Rolleiphiles, who ensured that the wide-angle Rolleiflex 4.0 FW was brought back to production after an eclipse of about 40 years [18] ; the 2.8 FX and 4.0 FW being sold in Japan first. One should admit that it is a great mystery why the “new” Rolleiflex TLR cameras, the 2.8GX and 2.8 FX, have been in production for about 24 years, i.e. longer than the last classic Rolleis (1958-1981, for the 3.5 F and 2.8 F [19] ), and the definite support of Japanese customers has to be warmly acknowledged. Again, this looks like a true paradox: in the 1960s, Japan was becoming an industrial giant and such a harsh competitor in the photographic domain that there seemed to be no limit to the destruction of the European and Northern-American photographic industry due to this competition from the Far-East.

The success of the classical Rolleiflex in Japan is probably related to the fact that Japanese photographers are, from their traditional and cultural roots, not at all submitted to what we call in France: “Cartesian Rules of Mind”. According to these rules, either you are modern or you are classic, you can’t be both at the same time. Japanese Rolleiphiles, on the contrary, can and are happy to be so. You can be at the same time a modern photographer and be able to appreciate classical objects without infringing any kind of logical rule. The same Japanese Rolleiphile, who will change his mobile phone every 6 months, does not see any contradiction in the fact of using in parallel, a “modern-classical” Rolleiflex camera like the 2.8 FX. Moreover, he will demand that the Rollei’s style shall be compliant with certain classical rules, and that Rollei re-manufactures two extinct classical Rolleis: the wide and the tele. Plus a fine leather ever-ready case to preciously keep the camera inside. The Japanese Rolleiphile is even more free to help maintaining a fabrication of classical film cameras, since Japan is one of the major film manufacturers in the world, hence the film supply chain to the amateur is short, processing and printing film is certainly not a problem in modern ’digital” Japan.

An attempt to conclude…

At the end of this journey in the Rolleiflex World, how should we perceive the camera today? Which is the preferred image? Certainly not the reporters’ camera; maybe it is still Doisneau’s cameras; or the camera of any other master photographer of the past that one needs to admire; or either a photo-reporter or another kind of artist, – the choice is so wide. Lee Miller and Robert Capa [20] used a Rollei like so many other war photographers to document Europe after 1944, and we can add so many peace time photographers of the fifties and sixties besides the Press and many portraitists like David Bailey and Sir Cecil Beaton in England.

And it might not even be interesting nor even relevant, to try and find a proper image. On the contrary, anybody can see his own Rollei with his own eyes. The memories and archives of all Rollei photographers of the past are too strong and even counter-productive; consider our faithful Rollei machine-tool and and let us be totally free to create our own photographic style.

For example, it is frequently reported at the beginning of our 21st century that the Rollei TLR attracts sympathy from the public. I have to confess that I cannot resist the pleasure of showing and operating a Rollei at weddings or other family meetings; the hegemony of the film-35mm-SLR plus-zoom-lens has been made obsolete so quickly in the last decade, now the new hegemony is auto-everything-point-and-shoot-plastic-and-silicon… waiting for the day when digital full-frame SLRs will, in turn, be the new hegemonic camera.

Now, remember how your Rollei is perceived by your friends when you take it at weddings? Ask them how they see it, what is their feeling about the Rollei; but never forget to show them, as quickly as possible, preferably very large and very sharp prints, larger than the 6×6 contact prints of our pre-war family archives, and substantially larger that the 10×15 cm (4”x6”) of the modern family albums.

So there is hopefully no conclusion to a story continuing since 1929 for the TLR camera, and since 1920 for the company. The future of the Rollei is as uncertain as ever, taking into account the recent bankruptcy of Rollei Fototechnik, then Franke & Heidecke. We have to be careful before making predictions, but one prediction is for sure: your Rollei, whether you like the idea or not, will certainly survive you, with or without available film to load inside.

Books for additional reading:

The history of the company and the most comprehensive description of all products manufactured or distributed by Rollei has been published in German by Claus Prochnow(1930-2008), a former Rollei engineer, in his series of “Rollei Report” books. Classical TLR cameras are covered in volumes I and II; the 2.8GX is found in volume IV. Only volume I had been translated into English, but for those who cannot read German, pictures and technical descriptions (one page per camera model) are easy to understand for the English-speaking reader.

Rollei-Werke, 1920-1945, Prochnow, Claus, Rollei-Report Volume I (all products manufactured before the second world war), ISBN 3-89506-105-0, LINDEMANNS (1993). For this first volume, there was a separate booklet with the translation of text and figure captions into English. This booklet was not sold separately from the German book.

Rollei-Werke, Rollfilmkameras, Prochnow, Claus, Rollei-Report Volume II (medium format cameras: 6×6 TLR and SL-66), ISBN 3-89506-118-2, LINDEMANNS (1994). This volume is now available in its 3rd edition.

Rollei-Werke, Rollei Fototechnic 1958 bis 1998, Prochnow, Claus, Rollei-Report Volume IV (slide projectors, flash units, 2.8GX TLR), ISBN 3-89506-141-7, LINDEMANNS (1997)

In English, the following book is an illustrated catalogue of all Rolleiflex TLR models fabricated from 1929 to the 2.8GX:

Rollei TLR Collector’s Guide, Parker, Ian, ISBN 1-874031-95-9, HOVE FOTO BOOKS (Jersey) (1993)

A recent comprehensive Rollei TLR book and guide really deserves the Rolleiphiles’ attention, even those who can read Claus Prochnow in German: The Classic Rollei: A Definitive Guide, Phillips, John, ISBN 978-1906672935, AMMONITE PRESS (2010)

References:

[1] A question of terminology arises: single-lens reflex cameras were fabricated as early as the 19th century (although not a “reflex” camera in the modern sense, early daguerreotype cameras had an optional mirror to see the ground glass image upside “up”, and left-right reversed).

The term “twin-lens reflex” is perfectly clear in English; I have no idea if the term pre-existed the invention of the Rollei-TLR in 1929. In German, the term zwei-äugige Kamera evokes a kind of a machine with two eyes like we humans… In French, the term bi-objectif(s) with uncertain spelling is used, bearing an ambiguity on the meaning of the two lenses; objectifs jumelés like “twin” in English or like in the French jumelles (binoculars) would be better, but nobody uses it.

[2] The first Rolleiflex Single Lens Reflex (SLR) camera brought to the market was the SL-66, introduced in 1966. Several 35mm SLRs were manufactured in the following years, first in Germany (like the SL-35), then in Singapore, up until the closure of the Singapore plant in 1981. In medium format SLRs, the SLX followed the SL-66 in 1973, then the 600x series is still in production in 2011. The recent HY6 model has been sold under several different partner brands; this situation makes even less obvious the association of the Rolleiflex brand with anything else but a classical TLR …

[3] A list of all rollfilm types introduced on the market by Kodak since the company was founded

[4] In 1963, the French singer Serge Gainsbourg celebrates the Rolleiflex in a song entitled Négative Blues

[5] “Nr.” is the German acronym for “Nummer” (number). In French, this acronym is never used (“N°” is the right one, and strangely enough, the same is used in Russian, with a Latin script N), hence “Nr.” reads, in French, as something totally exotic; exactly like the Anglo-Saxon abbreviation “#”, only calls to mind a music score (le signe dièse) to French-speaking people.

[6] My first Rollei is a Rolleiflex T, it was sold in 1977 as “new from old stock”, without accessories, for the amount of 1800 French francs including VAT (33% was the very high rate in France at the time for photographic equipment). Taking into account inflation, an attempt can be made to find an equivalent in currencies of 2011: around 970 euros, about 850 pounds sterling. The price I paid for the camera, although expensive for my first wage payment, was somehow affordable to me because the camera had been manufactured in 1971 (according to its serial number); the price tag probably did not change for years and the period was a high-inflation period. Between 1971 and 1977, the French franc had lost 40% of its value. Insee website

[7] The Rollei brand name has probably been formed as an acronym for ROLL-film and HEIdecke.

The registered name of the company, first: Franke & Heidecke in 1920, became Rollei Werke Franke & Heidecke in 1962, then Rollei Fototechnik in 1982, following a gradual vanishing of the names of the father founders. It was a surprising come-back when the company restarted under the name Franke & Heidecke, after Rollei Fototechnik was bankrupt in 2005. Franke & Heidecke, in turn, was bankrupt in 2009, and the new company manufacturing the classic Rolleiflex is named DHW Fototechnik GmbH; DHW being the initials of the founders of the new company, Rolf Daus, Hans and Katharina Hartje, Frank Will.

[8] The use of the Rolleiflex among photo-reporters in the 1970s is still attested, but it is very difficult to know the proportion of professionals of the time still using the 6×6 TLR instead of the hegemonic 35mm SLR. I remember a press photograph taken between 1973 and 1975 at the famous East-West Helsinki conference. In the background, one can clearly see a press photographer working with a f2.8 Rolleiflex TLR. Incidentally, it should be noticed how amazingly close Rollei photographers, with their standard lens, had to be to the people they were photographing on official VIP’s occasions.

About the Helsinki conference and Helsinki’s accords

In 1975 when I was a student at ENSET near Paris, all of us were given an official student’s ID card with a built-in ID photograph. The card was wet-printed on photographic paper and we had to sit in front of a professional working with a Rolleiflex TLR to get our portrait officiel taken.

Everybody found the image excellent, although shot in B&W; at the time, colour ID pictures were gradually becoming the standard. And I had no idea that one year later, I would get my Rolleiflex T.

[9] Robert Doisneau, 1912-1994.

Robert Doisneau: A Photographer’s Life, Hamilton, Peter, ISBN 0789200201, Abbeville Press (1995)

[10] In one of Ingmar Bergman’s motion picture films, The Passion of Anna, there is a particularly “Bergmanian” sequence, or, according to one’s tastes, particularly painful for the film-goer, where Erland Josephson takes a photographic portrait of Max von Sidow with a Hasselblad on a tripod. In the story, otherwise definitely grim and complicated, Erland Josephson’s wife (played by Bibi Andersson) has a secret love affair with Max von Sidow, but the lovers believe that nobody knows. Bergman is getting on the public’s nerves through the betrayed husband’s Hasselblad camera. The husband is a really unpleasant character and a maniacal photo collector.

During the Hasselblad shooting session, the camera is slowly wound on, with the traditional right hand knob, the mechanism creaking horribly; on the ground glass, inside the folding hood, Bergman shows us Max von Sidow being uncomfortable to the last degree. And when Erland Josephson depresses the trigger, a perfectly visible flash of light is seen through the lens, due to the flipping reflex mirror, accompanied by the loud thump of the mirror knocking inside the camera body, obviously evoking another “shooting session” – the fatal gun shot in a crime of passion.

[11] Landscape-Photographs; In France in the 1980s, DATAR official photographic mission (Paysages Photographies: En France les années quatre-vingt. Mission photographique de la DATAR) ISBN 2-85025-210-7, Hazan (1989).

This book has been printed in a very limited number of copies. It can be found at selected public libraries in France, but getting your own copy is a challenge and commands a premium price, higher that one or two good second-hand Rolleiflex TLR, freshly CLA’ed.

[12] A famous example of a Swiss precision machine-tool, an absolute hobbyist’s dream, is the Schaublin lathe model 102.

This machine is still listed in the catalogue and available new.

[13] In the 1970s, the French government applied an improbable VAT rate of 33% to all photographic equipment; the same rate was applied to luxury goods and records (vinyl, at the time). Music records and photographic equipment, in a sense, were officially being considered as luxury items! It is clear that medium-format professional equipment was so heavily taxed, setting medium format cameras, without any possible discussion, definitely out of reach for the amateur.

Only professionals, who can buy production equipment without paying the VAT, like for a machine-tool, could afford a professional camera in France in the 1970s. This does not mean, on the contrary, that all independent photographers can easily afford a medium-format camera: they had to pay with a loan contract, but at least the length of loan was much shorter than the camera’s expected life.

For the French amateur dreaming of fine cameras, the 33% VAT rate pushed all medium and large format camera equipment up to the category of unreachable, hence unnecessary, luxury goods. At the same time, Germany (split between East and West) and the UK did not apply such a heavy tax rate: there is no surprise then, if both countries are considered in the 1970s as photographic Eldorados by French amateurs of medium and large format cameras, looking with envy through the customs barriers. Since that time it can be said that the dynamism of the medium and large format market in (re-unified) Germany and in the UK easily outstripped the French market.

[14] Christopher Perez has tested the optics of a perfectly overhauled 1956 Rolleiflex 2.8 E. He finds a level of performance, in terms of line pairs per millimetre transferred on fine-grain film from a test target, in the range of 100 lp/mm, a figure that could already be considered extraordinary for a 35mm camera, being only slightly inferior to what is found with a Mamiya 7, a camera designed about 40 years later.

[15] The Rolleiflex anniversary presentation box in precious wood, introduced at the 2008 Photokina, contains all three Rolleiflex TLRs in production today, the 4.0 FW, the 2.8 FX and the 4.0 FT. Read more about it (in German) on the web site Photoscala.de

[16] Paul Salvaire, Les moyens formats, tome 2, Éditions Vm, ISBN 2862580694 (1996)

[17] From 1929 to 1981 there has been only very limited variations in the decoration of Rolleiflex TLR cameras. An exception is the strange pre-war “wall paper” (Art Deco) Rolleicord, as well as the use, for a limited time, of grey leatherette for the first Rolleiflex T in 1958. Black leatherette and chrome finish definitely rule. Many variations can be found however in the lettering and in the design of the front face plate. And that’s it … Of course it is not impossible to find a classic Rolleiflex covered with red leatherette, but it is only an aftermarket renovation to suit certain customer’s tastes.

[18] The wide-angle Rolleiflex TLR, or Rolleiwide, was fabricated between 1961 and 1967 only.

[19] The classical post-1958 Rolleiflex TLRs have been fabricated according to the following date list:
Rolleiflex 3.5 F = 1958-1979
Rolleiflex 2.8 F = 1960-1981
Rolleiflex T = 1958-1976
Rolleicord Va = 1957-1958
Rolleicord Vb = 1962-1977.

The 2.8GX was introduced in 1987 and its close successor the 2.8 FX in 2002.

Capa after D-Day Landing with a Rolleiflex

[20] Everyone has in mind the famous images taken by Capa in Normandy on D-Day. The images are fuzzy, but they are unique, taken under the enemy’s fire. The legend says that they were taken with a 35mm Contax camera, and that most of them were destroyed during film processing. Much lesser-known are other images of Normandy taken by Capa, over the following days… with a Rolleiflex. The quality of the Rolleiflex images is far superior to the D-Day’s 35mm images, but of course their historical interest cannot be compared.

For those looking for stories and miscellaneous references about Rollei cameras and Rollei photographers, they could be interested in the Rollei FAQ HTML document that I maintain.

It is basically a collection of web pointers to the archives of Marc James Small’s “Rollei List Discussion group”, with many additional bibliographical references and various short stories.

This is a translation into English and an adaptation for the British reader of my French article:

“Le Rolleiflex et son image”

I hope you’ll forgive me for any mistakes in English, as you know the best translation is from a foreign language to your mother language, not the reverse as I did.

Best regards and long life to Rollei cameras and to the British Club Rollei & Magazine!

What is the value of a Rolleiflash Bayonet 3?   Mat was told that this item is very rare and of value and that contacting the rollei club would be the best option (the diameter of the lens attachment is 42mm).

Well, we are here to help.

This is a Rolleiflash unit which has a bayonet mount – in this instance bayonet III – and has an interchangeable fitting for the other bayonet sizes. It takes disposable flash bulbs and is powered by a 22v battery. The bulbs are available as old stock at camera fairs and the battery was, at the last count, difficult to locate but still available from the internet and is very expensive – £12 at http://www.vintagecameras.co.uk/camera.htm.

This unit is missing the reflector. It is not rare, per se, but because they are not worth much anymore, they tend to end up in a scrap box unless absolutely mint and boxed – hence not necessarily easy to find (Ebay is a good source). This one is not complete; it is not in very good condition and so is probably worth a couple of pounds maximum. Complete in good condition, probably about £10 to a willing buyer. If boxed and with a pack of bulbs, it would make a nice addition to a collection. Bulbs will be about £1 for a box of 5.

If you would like to make Mat an offer, then please contact him at bob46@btconnect.com

For a few years now, I have been taken with the idea of panoramic photos – like those from a Hasselblad Xpan producing a 24x 65mm panorama.  In Issue 5, in collaboration with Michael Craven, we looked at the sub-format adapters available for the Rolleiflex T, Rolleimagic and Rolleicord Va and Vb cameras and with particular relevance here to the 24-on adapter for the Rolleicord Va and Vb giving a 24x54mm image.

I have periodically tracked Xpans on Ebay but have found that they go way over my ‘justifiable limit’ for a specialist camera that I would seldom use (similarly with my tracking of Hasselblad SWC cameras). So, having previously pondered the idea of converting a Rolleikin adapter and given that idea a ‘not practical’ tag, I spotted a 35mm adapter for a 120 Holga camera on Ebay for about £20. My thoughts again turned to being able to use 35mm film in one of my Rolleiflexes so I could take 24x54mm frames that would not involve any major outlay.

Bring your own foam

Recently, finding myself with a quiet (!) moment, I searched the Internet for appropriate clues…

If this article seems to ‘flit-about’, it echoes the way my thought processes searched for the best way of achieving my aim whilst considering readily available resources!

There is quite a bit of information in the public domain and I cannot claim to having done anything original in my design.

I found solutions as unsophisticated as a 35mm cassette being firmly wedged in the spool recess with foam and the film running directly onto a take-up spool narrowed down with elastic bands right through to the use of accurately machined spacers and parts. (see photo left and the original site here)

Having a lathe and milling machine, I opted for the more precise machined option, which I considered would not take much longer than rummaging about for suitable donor parts.

The Options

Firstly, the options to be considered for holding the film are:

1. from 35mm cassette to 120 spool
2. from 35mm cassette to 35mm spool (centre of cassette)
3. from 35mm cassette to 35mm cassette
4. from 35mm spool to 35mm spool

Option 3 has the advantage in that, at the end of the film the emulsion does not have to be rewound but can just be sliced from the feeder cassette.

Option 4  would suit using bulk film and then loading it straight into a developing tank once exposed.

When using a 35mm cassette/spool, the gap between the cassette and the sides of the camera spool-well has to be bridged and on the take-up side, the rotational drive has to be connected too.

If using a 120 spool as the take-up reel, the width of the centre section has to be reduced to keep the 35mm film centralised as it is wound on.

There is no way of rewinding the film into the cassette within the camera after the last exposure (unless you use a Rolleikin – see next page) so the camera or film back must be unloaded in the darkroom or a changing bag and then the film can be rewound. If you process the film yourself, it can be loaded straight into the developing tank at this stage.

When looking at the pros and cons of which camera would be most suitable, I felt that flipping the camera on its side to change from portrait to landscape format was very important. The SL66 is almost square in cross section and fits in the hand comfortably either the right way up or on its side. With a prism attached, it becomes more bulky but viewing and framing is easy. Another consideration was the dual 120/220 capability of the original SL66 magazines (this is not available on the later ‘E’ magazines).

Rolleikin fitted to 2.8E2 without film gate, showing how 35mm film has a tendency to curl towards the lens. If this was to be considered, a rigid packer could be inserted into the film gate each side to support the film edges

TLR Test Case

Mentally flicking back to the TLR idea once more, I thought of just using the spool holders from a Rolleikin without the film gate fitted as being a possibility. A quick trial in my Rolleiflex 2.8E2 showed that it would work but that the film wind crank did not stop when the next frame was in position, so it was important to carefully wind the film crank forward till it covered the film counter and then back again to cock the shutter as is done with 120 film. The Rolleikin counter knob could then be depressed to move the counter on. Rewinding is undertaken by keeping the centre of the counter knob depressed whilst turning the lower knob to rewind the film into the cassette. I have not exposed a film to trial this option but it is a simple and inexpensive route to take if you have a TLR with suitable Rolleikin kit. This option does enable the full length of film in a 36 exposure cassette to give 23 or 24 frames 54mm wide whereas it would be necessary to have a 220 capability if considering a SL66 or 6000 series camera and to still use the camera’s film counter.

What about a Rolleiflex 6000 series camera?

Of course, using a cassette as the film feeder precludes using a Rolleiflex 6000 series camera with automatic film wind because it cannot run the film off at the end unless the film is not mechanically attached to the spool in the cassette. This would mean home-loading the cassette yourself, without using tape to fix it to the spool; this being similar to the spool-to-spool option offering the ability of cutting a suitable length of film from a 30-metre bulk roll. In this case, loading and unloading the magazine must be done in complete darkness in the darkroom or a changing bag (but not for loading if fed from the untaped cassette). Another option is to use a 120 roll film backing paper and attach the 35mm film in place of the 120 emulsion or similarly with a 220 paper leader and trailer. The problem here would be keeping the 35mm film centrally aligned on the spools. Further consideration could thus be given to narrowing the paper backing to 35mm and then using spools with suitable central spool width.

The further from the original ‘film in a cassette’ that one deviates, means that it is more involved to get the exposed emulsion back into a cassette if the ultimate aim is to have it commercially processed. Going too far down this path leaves the only option as home processing. This is probably not an issue for many who would only use black and white but colour negative/transparency film processing is not so temperature tolerant or so economical at home.

If a 6000 series camera is considered, it should be noted that it was only the original SLX backs that had both 120 and 220 capability however, these were not mid-roll changeable. The magazines for the 6006 and the backs for the 6002 were single film length only, which made using both 120 and 220 film expensive because each film required a different magazine. 220 backs/magazines are difficult to find now but they are a bit cheaper than the 120 equivalents. The SLX backs can be used on all 6000 cameras but there would be loss of film speed information when using 6003 and 6008 cameras.

The SL66 film Magazine

Loading the spool with 35mm film

35mm film and machined SL66 spool

Having given the options due consideration, I decided to experiment using my Rolleiflex SL66; the deciding factors being the interchangeable 120/220 film magazine and interchangeable lenses.

I machined two ‘cassette packers’ and two ‘spool fillers’ out of ‘Delrin’, an easily machined engineering plastic, similar to nylon. The ‘spool fillers’ I cut in half, axially through the centre line, to fit over the 120 spool centre section and held the two halves together with o-rings fitting into grooves in the circumference. This took me a couple of hours.

I eagerly assembled the bits and put a test film in place.  I had read that Fuji film spools have a small peg in the paper locating slot to securely hold the film backing paper and that it was advisable to use one of these spools, using a hole punch to make a hole in the 35mm leader to catch on this peg. Fortunately I have some of these spools because I found that 35mm film does not stay attached unless the peg is used to hold it in place! This should be noted if considering using un-taped 35mm film spools.

35mm Film prepared for SL66 cassette

35mm Film in a SL66 cassette

I then found that the film edges were not lying flat enough against the pressure plate; I had to give this further thought…

I had not considered film flatness when opting to use my SL66. All the adaptations I have seen on the Internet have been for cameras with between-the-lens shutters and most images show the whole film width exposed including the sprocket holes. With the TLR and 6000 cameras (having between lens shutters) there is the ability to mask down the film gate (which is stepped to take proper Rollei masks) with suitably rigid packing to prevent the 35mm film edges curling towards the lens. With the SL66, having a focal plane shutter right against the rear of the camera, there is limited space and so the film gate is actually in the magazine as opposed to in the camera body with the 6000 cameras.

35mm Film in a SL66 cassette

Cassette with 35mm guides

I machined two stepped aluminium plates and duly spray painted them black. I then screwed them to the pressure plate helping to hold the film edges flat against the plate. These plates were thin enough to allow the magazine dark slide to function normally, thus closing off the magazine so that it can still be removed from the camera at any time. This involved another couple of hours work and the only ‘damage’ to the magazine being four small 10BA threaded holes in the pressure plate.

A simpler alternative to these plates, would be to use a strip of credit card or similar, held in place with one or two thicknesses of double-sided sticky tape acting as packing on the outer long edge, allowing sufficient clearance on the inner edge for the film to pass through the channel thus formed between the plastic and the pressure plate. With these plates ‘permanently’ fixed in place, the film has to be fed into the channel before attaching it to the take-up spool. The downside of using these guides in a SL66 is that at the end of the film, it has to come back all the way through the channel as it is rewound. An option would be to have one of the guides hinged and lockable so that when released it allows the film to slide out sideways before being rewound; complications, complications!

35mm Film held in a SL66 cassette

I am sure that in my case, I will not be using this adaption that frequently for these quirks to become annoying.

Testing the setup

With the pre ‘E’ series SL66 magazines, the magazine and insert have matching numbers. This was because there was a film thickness feeler (similar to that in the ‘E’ and ‘F’ series TLR cameras) that detected the start of the emulsion and started the film counter. This feature was omitted from the later SL66 magazines due to the inconsistent tolerances of some film manufacturers leading to problems with unreliable film frame counting. I thought this feeler might pose a problem at the start of the film and the counter stopping at No.1. However, I found that if I just made sure the film was secure on the take-up spool, closed the back and pushed in the magazine film-wind button, the counter started immediately. I then wound the film crank on twice to advance the exposed portion of film leader. The counter then displays two frames more than the actual number of exposures taken. Once the magazine counter has recorded 24 frames, the magazine film-wind button pops out but I still could crank the film wind forward and back once more and make another exposure. If the film reaches the end whilst still cranking the wind-on lever, the camera becomes ‘locked-up’, such that the magazine slide cannot be inserted to remove the magazine and the crank cannot be returned to the ‘cocked’ position. The magazine back must then be opened in complete darkness, the film insert can then be removed and the camera crank turned to its normal position with everything reset. Hence it is advisable to remember when to stop taking exposures so that the slide can be inserted and the magazine removed.

The magazine to which I had fitted the film guides was one I had bought from Ebay and was slightly tatty. As I was testing the various stages of my adaption, I wound on the film by turning the small gear wheel using my thumb and I noticed it was getting very stiff to turn. I decided that it was probably the old lubricant gumming up the gear train and felt that it would put too much strain on the camera winding mechanism if I put that one on the camera (Brian, I will be sending it to you for some TLC…!).

The Viewfinder mask

Masking the SL66 viewfinder

The final detail was to make a suitable viewfinder mask. I had read that to have a translucent mask enabled the detail surrounding the image area to be viewed, enabling quicker assessment of important subject matter that could be included. The mask should also be rigid enough to stay in place. I thought that a piece of laminating/encapsulation pouch heat bonded together with no paper inside would be ideal (I have some surplus if anyone would like some). I cut a piece and formed it to the shape of a Rollei SL66 mask fitting on top of the viewfinder screen and held in place by the hood/prism.

I swapped the modified insert to my other magazine (ignoring the fact that for earlier versions the inserts should be numerically matched to the magazine) and with transparency film loaded, set off to take some shots. The first thing I noticed was how easy it was to accidentally trip the very light shutter release when flipping the camera on its side! I wasted three exposures on the roll because I had forgotten to keep the release locked in between exposures.

All photos were taken using a 50mm f4 Distagon. You will notice some shading to the sides of the daytime photos. When I first saw this, I thought there was possibly a problem with my design. I soon remembered that only having the 80/250mm lens hood in my kit bag (forgetting to pack the 50/60mm hood), that the effect is vignetting from using the wrong one. This is not evident in the night time shots because I did not use a lens hood.

Conclusion

Was it worth the time and effort? I am certain of that. I do not know how often I will use my adaption but I found it interesting to go out in search of subjects to fit a different format. It is easier to cut down a 6×6 or 4.5×6 frame to the same size but it is a waste of film to do it often. I also prefer looking for a subject that will fit the frame rather than taking a photograph and afterwards thinking, “If I chop the top and bottom off, I can improve the composition”.

Trippet near Bosham

Trippet Chimneys in Bosham

Westgate Carpark Chichester

La-Sensa in Chichester

GePe slide mounts for this format are available from the Widescreen Centre for £15.99 Art.: 2603 – 22 x 54 mm, one Anti-Newton Glass, 3mm, 20pcs/box.

Having other interchangeable lenses for my SL66 I will have many opportunities to experiment with panoramic shots.

I know that a couple of members have recently acquired ‘Baby’ Rolleiflexes and with the Meeting looming in the not too distant future, my mind turned to dusting off my ‘Baby’ and producing some 4×4 transparencies for the slide show.  I did some research on the internet and found that although colour transparency 127 film had been re-introduced by Maco, it has since been discontinued again. Maco still produce Macocolor UCN 200 colour negative film in 127. They also stock Efke 100 and Rollei Agfa RETRO 80S 127 B&W film which would probably be available from other suppliers too. Bluefire Murano 160ASA 127 size daylight balance colour print film is available from frugal photographer.   They comment, with respect to the now discontinued Macochrome colour reversal film: “We expect to have a replacement product available some day, but God only knows when”.

I gave some thought to Manfred Borgis’ article in Issue 7 and how to cut-down 120 roll film. Although this appears simple on paper, three things niggle in my mind.

• Firstly how to cut the film to size without scratching the emulsion; the film should also be slightly narrower than the paper backing to ensure a light tight seal between the spool and the paper roll. This is not too much of a problem if the film is kept in the dark and loaded in virtual darkness.
• Secondly, how much to cut off the length of the leader and trailer paper and how much to cut off the film emulsion.
• Thirdly, because the film is taped to the leader, when it is wound through the cutter system, the untapped trailer would be first back onto the roll when rewound and thus would need taping to the paper backing so it is correctly wound onto the spool again.

I have found that when running 120 film through a camera as a test and then re-winding it (in daylight), it is almost impossible to correctly position the film with the backing paper so that when the film is wound back onto the spool, the taped film portion does not cause a ‘bump’ where the emulsion and backing have ‘slipped’. The only way to correct this is to peel off the sticky tape and re-position it on the paper and carry on rolling. A quick flash of inspiration! Could I just trim 120 emulsion and attach it to 127 backing paper?

Having ‘rolled-my-own’ 16mm film for my Rollei 16, I know how easy it is to scratch the emulsion, although with such a small negative, the damage is much more noticeable.

I know that people have and do cut down 120 roll film to 127 and Manfred’s photographs show clearly that it is worth the effort, so my concerns can’t be that much of a problem; but I do worry…!

My ‘idle’ mind wandered through these issues and I was thinking about a suitable cutter; whether to make a cutter like Manfred uses; to adapt a cheap 120 camera along the lines of the one that appears appended to Manfred’s article or whether a Rolleiflex plate back adapter could be non-destructively adapted to do the job ‘in style’.

My first task was to get a roll of 127 film, measure it, compare it to a 120 roll and then evaluate exactly how much needs to be cut off and from where.

I had purchased some Efke R21 127 B&W 100 ASA film years ago (dated April 95) and some Kodacolour 200 ASA 127 film (dated June 93) as soon as Kodak announced its withdrawal. These have been kept in the fridge.

Getting 127 film developed is not easy unless you do-it-yourself and of course you may want to keep the spools for re-use. The logical choice was to use the B&W film, because it’s easily replaced at present and I have B&W (and colour too) developing equipment. So, I ran a film through my ‘Baby’ during a walk around Bosham.

National Trust Sign on Bosham Creek with 127 Film

I have not used my darkroom equipment since it was moved 8 years ago. I have some Agfa Rodinol which was opened in November 1999 (I date my chemicals when I open the bottle) and I have read that Rodinol does not deteriorate with time. I would be able to put this to the test – nothing ventured, nothing gained. I pulled out my changing bag and loaded the film into the tank; 127 film, being narrower than 120, is less likely to kink and it aligns with the reel quite well. Also, being shorter, it is much easier in a changing bag. I pulled out all my chemicals and equipment and I noticed that the column of alcohol in the thermometer had separated. “Confound it!” There was only one thing to do, dip it into near boiling water and watch the lower column run up towards the upper column. This got a bit ‘hair-raising’ because the upper column was pushed right up to the top with a gap still in the middle! “Easy does it!” By just easing the bulb up and down in the hot water, I coaxed the lower column up until it joined with the upper section and quickly snatched the thermometer from the water. ‘Bingo’ it had worked! One complete column of alcohol again and a working thermometer. The thermometer had been stored horizontally for eight years, so I guess that this was the cause. I will now keep it vertical.

I had to find the development times for the Efke R21 from the internet, the instructions with the Rodinol did not specify the information. I found the details at digital truth which rated the film the same as Efke 100. The times from the internet, again on the Digital Truth site, gave details for 50:1 and 100:1 dilution. I decided on 100:1 for 16 minutes @ 20° C. Due to the age of the film I worked at 70° F (21.2° C) which gives about a 10% increase in development to compensate for this fact. I cleared a space in the bathroom and went through the process. Although it has been at least 10 years since I had done any developing, it all came back quite naturally.  Once dry, the negative strip looked tiny compared to 120 film, really quite manageable. The film had plenty of detail and I was pleased. When I scanned the negatives, they were quite ‘flat’, lacking contrast, a little adjustment in Photoshop can soon improve that. There is a small amount of fogging on the edges of some frames too. On a number of frames it looked as if the film had reticulated (caused by rapid change in temperature) which was not the case because even the rinse water had been maintained at exactly 70° F and anyway, this emulsion damage was random. It shows up in the highlight areas of the print, e.g. the sky. I think, because the film was just wrapped in foil, that with changes in fridge temperature, dampness/condensation may have been the cause. It is not really a problem because this was just a test, firstly to see that the camera worked and secondly that the Rodinol was still active as was my fixer and stop bath. I also now had a used 127 film to take comparative measurements from (see below).

Cutting down 120 film to 127

In the meantime, whilst quietly inverting the developing tank once a minute, I had ‘chewed over’ the cutting down 120 to 127 task and had added the wasted length of film into the equation, I have concluded that, other than actually being able to take 4×4 transparencies with a ‘Baby’, it would be more economical and easier to use a 4.5×6 adapter in a Rolleicord, Rolleiflex ‘T’ or Rolleimagic, and get 16 frames on the 120 roll commercially developed for a few pounds. Then, is all you have to do is to trim the transparency to size and mount it in a 4×4 slide mount. Of course, if you really insist on ‘roll-your-own’ 127 transparencies (unless you are happy to develop the E6 127 film yourself), certainly in the UK, it is not easy to find a processor who still has the ability to develop sizes other than 35mm and 120 at a ‘sensible’ price – and then you still have to make sure you get the spool back again for re-use.

Developing colour film (negative or reversal) is as easy as developing B&W only it takes longer. The main differences are that the temperatures must be accurately maintained (ideally use a temperature controlled bath) and the number of steps is greater. The cost of the processing kits is quite high and they do not keep for more than a few weeks once opened. It pays to expose the correct number of films for the kit and then process them in one go or over a few days. The home developing cost per 120 or 35mm colour film is not a lot different to commercial processing, so economy with these film sizes is not a reason to consider it.

Bosham Boat Shed with Baby Rolleiflex - 127 film

If a few members would like to purchase 127 colour print film from Maco or Frugal Photographer, then it would probably be worth placing a ‘multiple’ order to reduce pro rata carriage costs. If this is of interest, please contact me and I can look into it further. Black and white film, being available in the UK, is not such an issue but if added to a colour order could bring savings too. The only proviso is that payment would have to be ‘up front’.

I will continue my ponderings in due course and get back to you…

Some useful links:

http://www.onetwoseven.org.uk/ - offers tips and has even used 35mm film in a Yashica 44.

http://www.photofilmprocessing.co.uk/110filmprocessing.html – offers 127 processing & printing @ £9.

http://www.jcbimaging.com/126_developing.htm @ £25 per film (!).

Dungarvan is a town on the south coast of Ireland; about fifty miles east of Cork. Abbeyside is a suburb of it. Its parish church is St Augustines.

On 27th and 28th February 2009, I carried out a photographic project there for some clients. While there I felt that an outline of its history could be written and photographs of it taken which might appear in ‘Club Rollei User’ magazine.

On the occasion I was using a 35mm camera, which is not a Rolleiflex and I wasn’t prepared to take shots for our magazine with a camera which isn’t a Rolleiflex.

However, I knew that I’d be in Dungarvan again later and I could bring my Rolleiflex 2.8F then.

On 23rd May, I was photographing clients on the grounds of a church in Dungarvan, in the town centre. When finished I drove a mile or so to the suburban parish of Abbeyside; where the church and abbey already mentioned are.

The name Abbeyside defines the nature of the locality; it’s literally on an abbey at the side of the sea; as some of these photographs show.

The shots were taken with 160ASA.

This Augustian monastery was founded in 1290 by the hermits of that order. The surviving parts consist of the thirteenth century ruin and the fifteenth century tower.

After the suppression of the monasteries in the sixteenth century, the friars were driven from the abbey and lands, and in 1654 the building was destroyed and ruined.

The church, which is attached to the ruin, was built in the 1820s. It was re-constructed in 1890 and also in 1972.

The ruin itself, to the best of my knowledge, had some repair work carried out in 1923 to retain it for other generations who’d take an interest in it.

While it was an abbey, the friars, I expect lived off the land around it; which they would have farmed. They probably also sometimes fished from the sea, which was only yards from them; living off the fish as well.

In this and some of the other pictures can be seen square cavities. That’s because when the walls were being built timber scaffolding was erected and timber planks penetrated the cavities. Later when the building was finished the planks were cut to take the scaffolding down but sections of timber remained in the cavities. The timber in these square holes was then covered with plaster. Later, the plaster fell off the timber decayed completely.

The entrance, seen in this and the next print, is only about 5’-0” high; if that. This would be explained by the fact that people were much smaller than they are today. At the time, the opening probably had a very strong door.

Photographing the interior was quite difficult; trying to get as much as possible into view. The lens on the Rolleiflex 2.8F has an angle of view about an eighth wider than the angle of view on the standard lens of a 35mm camera. By moving back as far as possible I got nearly all of what I wanted into view. Towards the lower right, can be seen the top of a tomb but if I had shown the ground, the top of the building would have been cut off.

Looking out at the exterior through each of the three small window openings. Once, there were probably beautiful stained glass windows there.

A view from the beach: I expect that the wall was built to protect the ruin and church from erosion. It’s interesting to notice that the church has a chimney

Another view from the beach; to create this effect, I used a Cokin orange filter; which was made for a 35mm camera. I hand held it on front of the lens hood.

Another view of some of Dungarvan Harbour as seen from the vicinity of the abbey. I used a Cokin green filter, made for a 35mm camera; again it was hand held in front of the lens hood. As the other pictures show, it was a fine summer’s day but the experiment of using this filter, I found interesting; in that it created a cold chill look.

Some of Dungarvan Harbour as seen from the vicinity of the abbey. Here I used a Cokin gradual yellow No. 1 filter; made for a 35mm camera, hand held on front of the lens hood.

Looking out at the exterior through the 2nd small window openings

Looking out at the exterior through the 3rd small window openings

Archway in the Church and Abbey of St. Augustine

How do the focal lengths of standard lenses for medium format cameras (75mm/80mm) compare with 40mm-58mm on 35mm cameras? When I was younger, I just accepted that the 75mm lens in my Rolleicord was equal to the 50mm lens in my Praktica. This is not so, nor is it clear cut. It depends on how you calculate it. The focal length of a ‘standard’ lens is calculated by measuring the diagonal of the film format. As every schoolboy knows that the square on the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle is equal to the sum of the squares on the other two sides. From the diagonal of a film format can be easily calculated. For those who have forgotten: to calculate the diagonal of a 35mm negative use the following formula. (24 x 24) + (36 x 36) and find the square root of the answer.

You can compare the focal lengths of 6 x 6 and 35mm by:

1. Leaving the formats as they are.
2. Making the 6 x 6 format the same proportions as 35mm format,
3. Making the 35mm format the same proportions as the 645 format.

Let’s look at leaving the formats as they are. 6 x 6 is actually 56 x 56 from which the diagonal is 79.20mm. This means that 80mm is about right or maybe 75mm.  But when it comes to 35mm the diagonal measures 43.2666153055mm – So a focal length of 45mm would be closer to the medium format standard  lens of 80mm. There are some cameras with a standard lens of 45mm – notably the Contax G series. The popular Rollei 35 series used a 40mm as did the Leica CL and Minolta CLE. But most 35mm cameras used the 50mm.But even this doesn’t work as the 6 x 6 format is really meant to be 645 which is 41.5mm x 56mm, unless of course you take pictures for calanders. I am assuming that Rolleiflexes/cords use a square format, as the right-way-around pentaprism had not been invented when the cameras were introduced . The TLR can be turned on its side to get a vertical format but it is scarcely convenient. From that, you think in 645 terms when taking the picture but can have either vertical or horizontal at the time of printing. So with that in mind, the diagonal of 645 is 69.70mm so a 70mm would be closer to the correct standard lens. Even this is not quite right as the 35mm format has a ratio of 1:1.5 whilst 645 is about 1:1.35.

So now you could alter the 645 format to 35mm proportions which works out as 56mm x 37.33mm. The diagonal of which is 67.30mm making the standard lens as 65mm possibly 70mm. Now, for those who like the 35mm format in those proportions then this is a correct comparison. From that you can calculate other focal lengths.

Medium Format TO 35mm equivalent   (divide by 67.3 and multiply  by 43.26)

35mm format TO Medium format equivalent (Divide by 43.26 and multiply by 67.3)

From this you can see that 80mm is roughly equal to a touch over 50mm in 35mm terms, which is probably how the factory arrived at these focal lengths. IF YOU DO IT THAT WAY !

Now, I don’t like the proportions of 35mm. It is OK for landscapes but portraits look odd, as the picture is too tall. On top of that very few sizes of standard B & W printing papers are of the same proportions. None conform to 35mm format with the exception of the enprint size of 6 x 4 recently available for that very purpose. 8 x 10 needs only 30 x 24 as does 16 x 20. I have found that 24mm x 32mm would be better. It is interesting to note that the original Nikon cameras, made just after the war, were this very size. The USA forbade their import as it didn’t suit Kodachrome processing mounts of 24mm x 36mm. It is also interesting to note that 24mm x 32mm conforms to this 4/3rds format frequently mentioned in the photo magazines in relation to digital photography. It is also interesting to note that the 645 format is all but the same ! If you want to be awkward then 42mm x 56mm IS the same proportions rather than 41.5mm x 56mm. So the calculation now alters as the diagonal of a 32mm x 24mm is exactly 40mm. Perhaps that is why the famous Rollei 35 series had a 40mm lens !

Medium Format TO 35mm equivalent (Divide by 69.7 and multiply by 40)

35mm format TO Medium format equivalent (divide by 40 and multiply by 69.7)

So there is not a lot of difference between the two. Making the 645 format the same proportions as 35mm is roughly in agreement with the manufacturers. 50mm being slightly less than 80mm and slightly more than 75mm in medium format terms using the first method. Using the second method which fits the paper better anyway changes the situation making 90mm the equivalent focal length of a 50mm lens on a 35mm camera. It is also interesting to note that a 50mm lens is based on a 2” lens which is a hint longer in focal length. The theoretical focal length of a Zeiss (Kyocera/Contax) 50mm f1.7 is actually 51.9mm making 51.64mm even closer to 90mm in medium format terms. It is interesting to note that a 42mm x 56mm format has a diagonal of exactly 70mm so calculating becomes easy to remember and easy to do. So it is up to you whichever format suits you best as to which are the correct equivalent focal lengths.