Projects and assignments are great practice. When someone else gives you a brief and you decide to interpret it, and you have to deliver, you realize how buttoned up you are in some ways and how sloppy you are in other ways. You may also learn to improvise.
For the love of ______. The unnamed camera will now be outed as a Yashica T4. I just got back a roll of color slide film I had processed at L&I (highly recommended if you’re in NYC). Nothing’s in sharp focus. It replaced a T4 Super which had started to behave badly. I tried to get that one fixed, but parts are no longer available. And now it joins the heap.
Seriously–I love the Minolta lenses, but the bodies are so loud. Until I can get my Leicas fixed, I might dust off a Yashica GSN/GTN. Fingers crossed. I haven’t used them in a while…
I’m not superstitious, but it would be easy to think that I jinxed myself by posting about my broken cameras and specifically calling out my Tower/Nicca 3 as working. It is explicitly not working. I tried loading it on the walk to the subway this morning, then on the subway, then at my desk, and it’s just not taking up the film properly. I am now shooting with a point-and-shoot camera which I will not name for fear of it dying, too.
Cameras that do not work are completely useless. They sit on the shelf, dusty reminders of the format or fixed lens or funky aperture ring that you’re not using. My fiscally irresponsible reaction to every camera calamity has been very simple: replace it, and place the camera in the “broken” pile (actually neatly arranged clear plastic storage containers) for future repair.
Except there is no future repair. I fall in love with the new camera and use that one until it, too develops a temporarily-fatal flaw. If only it really were temporary.
So that all ended a few days ago. I have a Leica M4 that scratches film. It developed this problem in late 2009. Given that it costs a bit of money to get a Leica serviced by a good technician, I wisely shelved it in favor of my Leica MP. In the meantime I sold off various other “backup Leicas,” including a Minolta CLE, an M4-2, and another MP. That left me with one M-mount* camera. And I dropped it a couple of weekends ago.
*M-mount is the name for a type of bayonet lens mount, a mount that until recent history was proprietary to Leica’s M series of cameras.
Technically I bumped it off a low, comfy chair with my butt. I was shooting with the Leica, sporting a 35mm Summicron, and a Canon L1 with a vintage Canon 50mm 1.4. I had been using the Canon the most, because of its fast lens, and had left the Leica in the back of the cushioned seat, lens hood safely tucked into the crease. Then a thunk, a collective gasp of the other guests, all tired at the end of an evening party, and my idiotic pronouncement “no big deal—it’s built like a tank.”
No doubt, the Leica MP (2003 version, not the super rare 1950s model) was the first camera since the M4 to truly feel like a brick, a heavy brass weapon at the end of a leather strap. I don’t coddle it, either. The black paint is wearing off the edges, which I see as a testament to using it and not fondling it. But dropping it’s another story. The bottom plate can get bent. The rangefinder can go out of wack. Glass can break.
Glass broke. In particular, the eyepiece, through which you see the magical rangefinder triangulation, had shattered. I didn’t realize it had happened until a couple of days later when I picked it up to shoot with it. That meant no M photography. No using the insanely sharp and gorgeous 28, 35, 50, and 90. No worries, I have other cameras. I have the Canon L1 and a host of screwmount lenses I can use with it. I have an old Tower (aka Nicca) Leica knock-off which also uses the screwmount lenses. (I also have three broken screwmount Leicas, but let’s not talk about them right now.) And I have a ton of old Minolta gear. I’m very fond of the inexpensive yet high quality Minolta lenses.
The Minolta XD11 jammed up next. Just this past weekend. The wind lever got stuck in its “out” position. In an ideal world I would jump to the SR-T 101 (mint, black) but the shutter on that one’s a little broken and it’s been in the service pile for even longer than the M4. I had to jump straight to the most utilitarian and uncool cameras in that line–the X-570, a plastic-clad Minolta body that’s feature-rich but is uglier, plasticky, and light. It’s also an SLR, which is great for some things but not as discreet for candid photography.

The Canon L1, the most lovely rangefinder of them all (except for the Canon L1 with black paint finish)
Since I began writing this post, the situation has become more grim. My beloved Canon L1, one of the most beautiful screwmount rangefinders ever (perhaps the only one more beautiful is the black paint version), is nearly impossible to focus. The rangefinder patch has faded. Just this afternoon, in broad daylight, I was struggling to get the second image to show up at all. Another one for the plastic bin.
There’s no real point to this post. On one hand, this series of camera failures and accidents reminds me of how lucky I am to have other cameras to shoot. On the other hand, I can’t help but think that a wise photographer would set aside a little bit of money every month for a repair fund. And on my third hand, I wonder if I’m a snob and if that super-inexpensive Minolta glass, coupled with cheap, plasticky yet perfectly capable bodies, is actually good enough for me.
Early in March, we walked through Gowanus, toward a friend’s studio. I shot TMAX 100 in 120 size with my New Mamiya 6 (it’s not new–that’s really the name).
In a recent post I dug up some old TMAX work I had shot and recalled how much I like that film. In 120 I think I like it even better.
One of my favorite things about discovering or rediscovering a film is playing with different exposure times and different developers. I carry a little notebook with me so that I can note the exposure index, location, etc. and then later the development notes. I’m not very good at noting the development regimen, but I’m getting better.
TMAX in 120 has a lovely tonal range. I have to credit the lens, too. The Mamiya 50mm is one of the sharpest lenses I’ve ever used. I made the mistake of selling my first Mamiya 6/50mm combo and then developing the last roll of color film I took with it. I had sold it because I didn’t use it much. After I got those last negatives back I kept my eye out for an affordable replacement.
I meant to shoot some portraits of yoga teachers last weekend with TMAX 100 and my Hasselblad and 150mm lens, but I jammed up the back and shot them in 35mm with Tri-X and Plus-X with a vintage Canon body and lens instead. Next time!
Recipe:
TMAX 100 in 120 format
New Mamiya 6 with 50mm lens
3.5ml Rodinal (Adonal) in appropriate volume of water to fill tank (using 16 oz. stainless steel tank)
Agitate 1 minute, gently
Leave it alone for an hour
Pour it out, water stop bath 1 minute, fix 4 minutes, wash 1 minute, perma wash 1 minute with agitation, wash 1 minute, wetting agent (LFN) 1 minute with agitation.
I’ll keep trying different developers and see what works best. I’m very happy with how the Rodinal stand development worked out.
Botching a shot—or goodness forbid, two whole rolls—because of avoidable circumstances just sucks. I shot two rolls of Rollei 80S Retro in 120 format at the end of March. I bought them a while ago from Freestyle Photo and figured I’d give them a try. I had finally got a suitable strap for my Yashica-Mat twin lens reflex camera, so I used that.
Read more…
My lovely Dad gave me the gift of film for xmas this year: a couple rolls each of FP4 Plus and TMAX 100. I’ve not used either of these films for years. I used to use TMX and TMY a lot in both XTOL and Diafine, but I kind of fell out with its look and moved toward Tri-X. Anyway, my Dad misunderstood my desire for fast film and thought I liked slow film. Who cares – free film is free film!
I checked the Diafine box and exposed the FP4 Plus at ISO250. Standard Diafine development.

Developing Tri-X shot at 1600 in Rodinal 1+50 yields excellent results. I shot these with a Leica MP and 35mm Summicron IV. I took a meter reading off my hand in each area I shot.
It’s the season for not using Diafine: the cabinet in which I keep my chemicals never breaks 70 degrees during the cold months, and mixing a one-shot developer like Rodinal or HC-110 is a lot faster and easier than warming my Diafine A & B bottles in a tempered bath. Diafine’s working range is 70-85 degrees Fahrenheit. I still use it, but I extend the development times from 3 minutes in bath A and 3 minutes in bath B to more like 4 minutes/5 minutes. I don’t know if that overcomes the temperature being too low. Read more…
Intrigued by Shinya Arimoto’s refrigerator full of TMX/TMY and HC-110, I was looking through my archives, looking for what I’ve done with these films and with what developers. I’m somewhat new to HC-110, but I’m wondering if I’ll bother trying it right away, given these examples of 35mm TMX in Diafine, shot between 75 and 100 ISO.
I’m going to try this combo of TMX and Diafine in 120.