Sunday 29 March 2015

Meet the Beast: Part II

In this second installment of Meet the Beast we're going to have a quick tour of the Mamiya RB67. For serious photographers who like to work with film there's a treasure trove of professional quality medium format equipment on the used market these days at prices that would have seemed like a miracle in the pre-digital age, and of those the Mamiya RB67 represents one of the best values in terms of price and capability.

Early results from not long after I started using the RB67. No coincidence, this was also right about the time my DSLRs became permanently relegated to utility image duty (mostly involving shots of my film cameras.)
The original model, the RB67 Professional was introduced in 1970 and updated versions were released in 1974 with the Pro S model, and finally in 1990 with the Pro SD model which was available new into the early 2000's. There's actually very little difference between them considering 30 plus years the RB was on the market, so if you know how to use one version you won't have any problems with any of the others.

As a medium format camera the RB67 normally uses the same 120 roll film popular in everything these days from Holga to Hasselblad. As the name suggests the RB67 is designed around the 6x7cm format, which means on a roll of 120 film you'll get 10 exposures. The rectangular format means there's almost no cropping required when making prints on standard size papers like 8x10 or 11x14 compared to the square format you get with many similar medium format SLRs such as the Hasselblad, virtually all Twin Lens Reflex cameras, and most of the “toy” cameras that are so popular these days.

The RB67 is a modular system. Six separate components have to come together to create a camera that's ready to use – the camera body, lens, focusing screen, finder, revolving adapter and film back.

The RB67 broken down into its individual components. Clockwise from the top left are the revolving back adapter, camera body, lens, waist level finder and 120 film back. The focus screen is also interchangeable but has been left in place here.


If we start with just the camera body we find there aren't many controls here. From the photographer's position behind the camera we see there's a large lever on the right that might be tempting to think of as a winding lever, but it's functions are limited to raising the reflex mirror and cocking the shutter. The film is wound using a separate lever that's part of the film back. We also have a large wheel on either side which are linked, and these are for focusing. The RB67 is designed to focus by means of bellows built right into the body. There's a release button up front to the lower right which is threaded for a cable release, and that's it for all the controls on the body. The only other detail of note is the accessory shoe, or cold shoe, on the left side.




Lets move on to the lens because this is where most of the controls are. The RB67 uses leaf shutters integral to the lens, so the lens barrel is where you'll find both the shutter and aperture settings. Shutter speeds typically run from 1/400th to 1 second plus a T setting for long exposures. The design of the time exposure mode is one of my little peeves with the RB. When set to T shutter stays opened when it is released which is fine, but instead of the usual method of a second press of the release to end the exposure with the RB you either have to rotate the shutter speed ring off the T setting or start rotating the cocking lever, either of requires you to handle the camera while the shutter is still open, potentially ruining the exposure. Admittedly I can't say I've ever actually lost a shot this way, at least not yet, but why the designers couldn't simply incorporate a superior method that had already been standard leaf shutters for decades is beyond me.

Typical exposure control settings on an RB67 lens. The focus distance scale up front is just a reference for depth of field/hyperfocal distance. Working back from there is the shutter speed ring then the aperture ring. The black switch behind that is the X/M flash sync setting. The red markings near the body are for aligning the breach mount ring when mounting and removing the lens.

Since the shutter is built into the lens this is also where the flash sync terminal is, the standard p.c. socket. As with all leaf shutters flash sync works at all shutter speeds so you can use fill flash outdoors on even the brightest days. I don't know if there's an X/M sync switch on all RB lenses but there is on all the ones I own. Another standard feature on RB lenses, one that's easy to miss, is a little leaver on the lower right that closes the aperture to the stop you have dialed in giving you a quick check on depth of field in the viewfinder.

And finally we come to this little receptacle. At the centre is a standard cable release socket but the collar switch that surrounds it probably needs some explanation. You'll find it can be set to one of two settings that may be labeled “Normal” and “Mirror” or simply “N” and “M”. Setting it to Normal mode, or N, disables the in-lens cable release socket and turns shutter release control over to the release button on the body. Pressing the button or squeezing the cable release attached to it activates the usual exposure sequence, lifting the release mirror, closing the aperture and firing the shutter. In Mirror Up mode, or M, the button on the body just raises the mirror, at which point the shutter can only be fired with a cable release attached to the socket in the lens barrel. This nicely provides photographers with the functional equivalent of a mirror-up lever, but for the unwary there's a hidden trap, and yes I speak from experience here. Being the sort of photographer who normally operates from a tripod and shoots non-moving subjects, normal mode for me is anything but. The lenses are used in mirror mode virtually all the time and I just leave them there. Should I decide to go hand-held or simply don't want the shutter to fire immediately when , there's absolutely nothing to indicate anything is wrong should I forget to turn the switch to normal. I once blew the better part of a roll happily firing away, oblivious to the fact nowhere in that satisfying clunk of the mirror releasing was there a soft click of the shutter. It's the kind of mistake that, in theory, you're only supposed to make once, so lets hope those theorists know their stuff.


The unusual Normal/Mirror Up selector found on the barrel of RB67 lenses. Even experienced photographers will need to acquaint themselves with this peculiar switch before using the RB67 for the first time.

Moving to the other end of the camera, like many medium format SLR's the RB67 uses interchangeable film backs that give photographers two important advantage. First an foremost owning more than one back gives you the ability to switch mid-roll from one film types mid-roll simply by loading each back with a different emulsion. Loading a roll of colour film, therefore, doesn't commit you to finishing the roll before being able to shoot black and white. Second, special purpose backs can be used. The RB67 system included backs for shooting 645 and 6x8cm formats, and two backs that accepted different film formats, 220 and 70mm. While 70mm backs are a rarity, 220 backs were almost as common as the standard 120 version so a word of caution may be in order here. There aren't many 220 films still available, in fact to my knowledge Kodak Portra is the only thing available. If you're in the market for an RB67 it can be easy to overlook the fact that the one you found only comes with a 220 back. On the other hand Portra is a fine film and you can probably find some bargains on 220 backs.

The 120 film back removed. Note that the back has its own winding lever to advance the film, a function the lever on the body does not perform. Backs for 220 and 70mm film are also available as well as 645 and 6x8 format with 120 film.

One final advantage that may be easy to overlook – about half of the things that are likely to fail on a camera like this are in the film transport system. At today's prices just replacing a film back is likely to be much cheaper than having the whole camera repaired, and if you have spares after a failure like this you can just keep shooting.

As with any back that is removable there is a dark slide to keep the film from being exposed when it's not attached to the body. While you could pull this out and leave it as long as the back remains attached it's an easy thing to lose so it's good practice to leave it in until you're ready to make an exposure and return it as soon as you're done. There's no need to worry about accidentally leaving it in or out at the wrong time though as safety mechanisms are there to prevent you from removing the back if the dark slide isn't in, or tripping the shutter when it is in.

So far the RB67 back sounds pretty much like standard fare for a ;medium format SLR of this type, but now we're coming to this camera's defining feature, because the "RB" in RB67 stands for revolving back. Most cameras that shoot rectangular format negatives need to be turned on their side if you want to shoot verticals. That's not much of a problem with 35mm cameras but that presents more of a challenge with heavy medium format SLRs that are more likely to demand the use of a tripod. To shoot verticals most tripod heads require the camera to be dangled off to one side where the camera's extra weight can threaten to tip the whole tripod over. This is one reason so many medium format cameras adopt the square 6x6 format as there is no vertical or horizontal while you're shooting, This keeps the camera's centre of mass over top of the tripod, but making standard rectangular prints requires a good portion of the big gorgeous medium format negatives to be lost to cropping. The RB67 however allows the camera to remain on top of the tripod like a 6x6 camera at all times, making the switch between horizontal and vertical by rotating the back alone. This is done by means of the revolving back adapter, an attachment placed between the body an back. Normally this remains attached to the body as there is rarely a reason to remove it so some users may simply assume this is part of the body. It's and important thing to consider when purchasing an RB67 body alone as sellers might or might not include this component. Remember the back can't be attached to the body without one, even if you're willing to forego the revolving back feature.



At last we come to the finder which, it should be no surprise to learn is interchangeable and many types are available. Most common is the standard waist level finder that is similar just about every other WLF on other medium format cameras. There's no release button required to raise it, you simply pull up on top cover, under which you'll then find a small lever on the right that pops up the focus magnifier. While this is the most basic magnifier it's also the one I prefer, though anyone not accustomed to this type of viewer may find the left/right reversed viewfinder image difficult to adjust to. There is also an eye-level prism finder for those who prefer that fully corrects the view at the cost of some weight, but you're already dealing with 2.5 kg or more worth of camera already, so what's a little more? If you want to go a bit further there are also finders for the RB with metering and other special features. Of note finders are one of the few items made for the RB's sister model the Mamiya RZ67 that can be swapped between the two models. Since its the finder that carries the most visible camera model label it's not unusual to see an RB67 that has "Mamiya RZ67" emblazoned across the front.  

Well, that's all my heart can take this week. In future installments I'll be going into more detail with functional basics such as loading the film, changing lenses and so on, followed by a summary and a few final thoughts. I'm hoping to keep things on a semi-regular weekly schedule but apologies in advance if things are late as I'm expecting to integrate a bit more video as well as all the while I'm bringing a new element into my photographic world which... well, you'll see.


Saturday 21 March 2015

Meet the Beast: Part I

I confess, I've been holding out on you all. That camera I keep talking about, my photographic tool of choice since before this blog began, the Mamiya RB67, has been lurking in the background of much of what I've written in the past, perhaps somewhat mysteriously for those of you not acquainted with its marvels. It occurred to me some time ago that introductions were in order by way of a few episodes devoted to this camera along with all the agony and ecstasy of using one. It's something I could write about any time though, so I figured I'd keep it in reserve for a day I found myself struggling to find a topic. Instead, finding myself once more struggling with the opposite problem of trying to decide which of several topics to tackle next, it occurred to me that if I was waiting for writer's block to occur I might never get to it. And so it was decided I'll wait no longer.


While I have always referred simply to my Mamiya RB67, for the sake of accuracy I should state I have the RB67 Pro S, the penultimate model in the evolutionary sequence of RB67 versions released as updates were introduced. Actually I have two of them. The first one I purchased in September of 2013, complete with lens, 120 back and waist level finder, for under $200. It had a few scrapes and small dings, along with some sort of purple paint stains in the leatherette covering of the finder, but was absolutely functional. Currently undergoing a bit of cosmetic surgery on my basement worktable, it was demoted to a backup role last July when I got my hands on a prettier body via an opportunity purchase. I was really just looking for a good deal online on a second 120 back when I came upon a back, body and waist level finder at a price that was around the high end of what others were asking for a back alone. How could I not?

Back when I was in my twenties the RB67 easily made my short list of cameras I most dreamed to own. In fact if I actually kept such a list officially it probably would have spent more than its share of time at the top. Hasselblads are probably the more typical dream cameras but at the time (though definitely not now) square format was a bit of a turn off for me. The RB67 was really the one and only camera that hit every spot on my checklist - it's a full-fledged SLR that shot big negatives just this side of large format. takes interchangeable lenses backs and finders, shoots rectangular format so no film gets wasted cropping squares (keeping the images square, who does that?) but doesn't require flopping the camera to the side of the tripod to shoot vertical images. The only thing that kept me from owning one at that time was that they were priced into the stratosphere, affordable only to those who could make money with them and the very rich. The thought of owning one was a pipe-dream, almost on par with the Ferrari I wanted. 

Time moves on and many things change while others do not. Ferraris have gone from being the apex symbols of social status so many lust after but can't hope to ever afford to carbon spewing monstrosities so many lust after but can't hope to ever afford. Meanwhile, in that same time period the Mamiya RB67 has gone from being a well engineered, supremely capable photographic instrument considered the exclusive purview of professionals and the most dedicated of wealthy amateurs, to being  a well engineered, supremely capable photographic instrument a schmoe like me can pick up on eBay almost as an afterthought. The cameras haven't changed, it's just the pros who used them now have to satisfy customers for whom even the minute it takes a Polaroid to develop isn't instant enough. Think of that next time you hear laments about how rough it is being a film photographer in the digital age.



So kit-wise at least, my photographic world is pretty rosy, but while I now own the 231year old me's ideal camera plus a spare, now that I'm twice that age (and nearly half again the mass) my thoughts about what constitutes an ideal camera have changed. As I previously hinted at for example, while I once considered it wasteful to shoot square negatives and later crop to a rectangular print, I now often crop rectangular negatives to square images. Yes the 6x7cm negatives are nice when I don't do this but on the whole I think I'd give that up for the benefits of 6x6cm square negatives including 12 rather than 10 exposures per roll, easier storage and the ability to fit one roll of film onto a single 8"x10" contact sheet. That would be so if everything else were equal, but there's something else to consider - providing that extra centimetre's worth of negative costs quite a bit in terms of sheer mass. As I've noted time and again in the past, the Mamiya RB67 is a big heavy camera, and I don't just mean big in the way a medium format camera will be big if you're used to 35mm, Consider this - I put my Nikon FM with a 50mm f/1.4 lens on the kitchen scale and got about 860 grams.  A Hasselblad 500C/M with 80mm lens, 120 back and waist level finder comes in at 1555 grams (source: www.photoethnography.com), a 695 gram penalty to go from 35mm to medium format. On the same scale my RB67, 127mm lens, 120 back and waist level finder comes in at 2596 grams, more than an extra kilogram compared to the Hasselblad, itself a solidly build medium format camera.

The truth is Mamiya designed the RB67 to be a studio camera, luggability was never high on their desired traits list. One thing that was high on that list however, given the importance of dependably in the high volume professional environment for which they were intended, was ruggedness, meaning they're entirely up to the task of outdoor use where conditions are often less than ideal so long as one is prepared to bear the extra load. And this enduring performance, combined with their once near ubiquitous presence in professional studios, mean there is still an ample supply of RB67s on the used market today. This, combined with the limited market appeal they have due to their bulk, make the RB67 the current champion on  the used medium format SLR market in terms of performance/price ratio if you're willing to bear the load.

Granted that can be a pretty big if and for many that alone is a deal breaker. After a largely successful year and a half of ownership it still gives me pause. Even if you leave size and weight issues aside there are things anyone looking at an RB system should take into account in terms of operational and system considerations as well as a few downright quirks. We'll have to leave those for next time however when I'll go into more detail about what it's like to actually operate one of these beasties. 

Sunday 15 March 2015

The Side Arm Camera

A parting image shot with the Nikon F80 while the RB67 sat in the bag 

Should fate ever see me trying to submit an insanity plea in court I can at least submit as evidence in my favour the sheer mass of kit I routinely slog across difficult terrain as a means of passing time. When the Mamiya that is my go-to camera was made it was considered studio equipment because few would be fool enough to carry it for any distance outdoors. Given the commitment involved just heading out the door with it and a few of its similarly massive lenses there never seemed much value in tucking something smaller and lighter weight into the pack. Why would I need something else if I had my favourite camera with me?

As it turns out there are a few good answers to that question after all. I discovered them almost by accident. It started last fall when I started taking my recently acquired Minolta Hi-Matic 9 along when I was out with the big camera. The idea was simply to get a test roll through the new camera that wasn't another 36 frames of the dog looking at me awkwardly. My first outing with it was an off-season visit to a public beach that after decades of decline as a recreational attraction is now being eyed by condo developers. I'd been there before but on this visit I was drawn to the graffiti marked foundation walls of a long-ago demolished building that I previously hadn't taken much notice of.

Whether or not the fact it piqued my interest this time had anything to do with the presence of a more maneuverable, hand holdable camera with which to explore it this time I can't say. What I can say is that I immediately put the heavy pack down and just went with the Minolta. There was no rush, the walls would wait for me had I chosen to set up the tripod and fiddle with the big camera, but there seemed no question that the Hi-Matic was the right tool here. That might strike the majority of you as obvious but my methodical self usually doesn't work that way. I'm used to spending some time with a composition, considering my approach, noticing all the details. The difference here I think is that my subject called for more exploration than analysis.

A shot taken while exploring with the Minolta Hi-Matic 9, again while the Mamiya kit I had with me stayed in the pack.




















Since that time whenever I'm out with the Mamiya kit there has always been a 35mm camera along for the ride, though more recently it's been a Nikon rather than the Hi-Matic. It's my side arm, the camera to use for all those situations not suited for pulling out the big gun. Those fleeting opportunities that won't wait for you to set up are the first thing that comes to mind. Even when it seems like there's plenty of time, grabbing a quick shot with the small camera can serve as quick insurance against the unexpected such as an unfavourable change in the light or a Volkswagon camper van parking in the middle of your previously pristine scene while you're setting up.

That's not the only advantage I've found in to carrying a side-arm camera. It's not even the main advantage. The fact is that even though I may gear up in anticipation of shooting with a slower paced, more considered approach doesn't mean this is the way I'll be inspired to work once I'm out there. When you're using a heavy tripod mounted camera deciding to stop and get a photograph is a little bit like pitching camp and doing this too many times can get a bit overwhelming.

My new side arm - the conveniently non-automated Nikon FM

In one form or another I've been carrying a side arm camera with me when I'm out with the big Mamiya kit for months now and I'm still shooting far more 120 film than 35mm. I may even try bringing the Iskra along to see if it works in this role - medium format is still the sweet spot for me. More than likely it will be the Nikon FM I recently acquired. The F80 served well enough I suppose but it won't meter with all my lenses and the way nearly every function possible has been automated doesn't appeal to my sensibilities like it once did. When I think about it it takes far more work to earn the money to buy the batteries that power the auto winder than it does to just use the winding leaver.

Monday 9 March 2015

Sun and Snow


In fairer seasons those perfect cloudless days can do as much to elevate my disposition as the next person. If such a day also so happens to be free from work obligations it might be the perfect time to do a bit of token work around the house followed by some less demanding social/recreational activity. Whatever that activity might consist of it probably won't involve throwing a tripod and bag of camera gear into the car and heading wherever fancy takes me. Those sojourns are usually reserved for days that promise more mood, more drama than harsh sun and empty skies are likely to deliver. A thunderstorm wouldn't be out of the question if I could keep the kit dry. I've avoided shooting in direct sun so much at times I wonder if I've undergone the photographic equivalent of going Goth.

That's the way of things over the past couple of years at any rate. In earlier times, not long after I had really started getting a handle on black and white and darkroom printing, it was more about detail and texture. My images tended to be more abstract and I printed them with a mind to achieving a full tonal range from near paper white to the deepest black that could be achieved. Back then skies didn't figure quite so prominently in what I was shooting and full sun just meant going out early or late enough to get some dramatic side lighting.

I haven't abandoned that approach really. It's just for the past couple of years I've been inspired by different things. Lately though it seems some of that old inspiration has been making a re-appearance and I think it's due in large part to snow.

I couldn't tell you the year this was taken other than it was sometime in the early to mid 90's, but somehow I recall the date was March 7th. It's a good example of the kind of work I was doing back then, both in the field and in the darkroom. I'll be a happy fellow once I feel I have back the kind of darkroom chops I had in those days. (Camera: Arca Swiss F line 4x5, Lens: 210mm f/5.6 Schneider Symmar-S, Film: Probaby T-Max 100 but don't quote me on that, Paper: Ilford MG-IV FB.)

Snow makes itself into new objects, creating forms of its own. It blankets the messy ground with a clean white canvas, ready to be painted with shadow, isolating objects that break above its surface. It can be specular, translucent or take on multiple textures. So many of its more photogenic aspects however require sun. Without it snow is often just a bland featureless cover hiding the landscape beneath.

 So it is that through the course of this particularly snow graced winter that the sun has again started to factor into my photography as more than just a source of dramatic back light for moody clouds. I've started to work with once more, even anticipate it.

At least that's how it's been to this point. We've moved on into March now. Last week temperatures got above freezing for the first time I think since December and since then has been wandering even higher above that mark with increasing regularity since. Winter may yet have an encore or two in store but it won't be long before snow cover is cleared out in a spring liquidation and I'm trading in my Kodiak boots for a pair of wellies. Bountiful as this winter has been photographically part of me is all too ready to get on with it. (And I must confess, it's the greater part.) Whether this rekindled working relationship with the sun in all of its unveiled glory continues when this happens, well... we'll just have to see.

This section of what is collectively known as Niagara Falls is one of only several hundred waterfalls across the planet to go by the name "Bridal Veil Falls". It baffles me how often it's failed to occur to anyone that as virtually any waterfall resembles a bride's veil that this isn't a particularly distinctive moniker. 
The out flow from the now defunct Canadian Niagara Power generating station. The water keeps flowing for free and the generators are still sitting there doing nothing - seems like a waste not to turn them on just because they're old.
I didn't notice until I decided to touch up a few dust spots the big blob of lens flare sitting in the branches towards the upper left like a big icy coconut that had somehow just grown there. 

Tuesday 3 March 2015

Making Contacts

Last episode I shared my experience returning to making prints in the darkroom after a couple decades away from that particular form of photographic alchemy. Having my images exist in the world as prints is a huge deal to me as a photographer. Wonderful though the ability to share images across the world online is, the print is the real end product I have in mind throughout the entire process. It's the one thing can truly be called a photograph.

A contact print from a roll of  6x7 negatives. The 8x10 photo paper is a little short on real estate with this format. 

But restoring the capacity to make prints fills in a less obvious hole that I didn't mention in my last post because I think it's important enough to warrant its own post. That hole I'm referring to was my former inability to make proper contact sheets.

Contact sheets are usually thought of simply as a quick cheap way of viewing your negative as positives, a tool for selecting the best images. If that's all there was to it then a quick low resolution scan of each new image, which is what I have been doing,would be a worthy substitute. But a properly made contact sheet is much more than this however because, in a sense, it's the only way to see your negatives as they are.

As it is, or at least has been, I've been evaluating new images on screen that have each been individually adjusted for exposure and contrast by the scanning software. Looking at these I'm able to determine some things about how good my choices have been with respect to exposure and development. Empty shadows or blasted highlights would tell me if the exposure was way off, but black and white film allows a good margin for errors of this kind, and the Fuji Acros I rely on most heavily has possibly the widest latitude of any general purpose film made. But it's one thing to know an exposure falls somewhere within this generous boundary, quite another to know it landed right where you intended and won't reqire drastic measures to print like an extreme contrast grade once it does make it to the enlarger. All I can really tell from a scan is whether a negative is ultimately salvageable. My aspirations are a bit higher than to produce negatives that are salvageable.

Enter the correctly made contact sheet. For those of you who not versed in standard darkroom practice contact sheets are made by laying negatives emulsion (dull) side down on a sheet of photo paper under an enlarger or other light source, laying a sheet of glass over the top to press them hard against the paper then exposing the thusly made photo sandwich under the light source. When the paper is developed you wind up with a sheet of unenlarged positive images of each negative. By correctly made I mean that the contact sheet is made using a standard middle contrast grade and given just enough exposure to render unexposed margins of the film at maximum paper black and no more. These are the conditions under which the images on the contact sheet should appear normal. If by and large they don't it's a sign you need to make some adjustments. If your images are too flat or too contrasty then the time your film spends in the developer should be adjusted accordingly (more time = more contrast). If they are too light or dark then you should adjust the ISO you set next time you are using that film. Since no adjustments are being made to compensate for the shortcomings of individual images the contact sheet is giving you the unaltered truth about your exposure and development routine.

A contact sheet of 35mm negs from decades past. 

My plan going forward is to make contact sheets from all my new work rather than scanning each and every individual negative to keep them stored one and all filed away on my hard drive which has been my practice to date. Having run a few contact sheets from previously shot and scanned rolls I've been reassured that my own exposure and development practices have been close enough to spot on to keep me happy. I have discovered a bit of a sticky problem however, for while twelve 6x6 cm negatives cut into four strips of three negatives fit nicely onto an 8"x10" sheet of photographic paper, ten of the 6x7 cm negatives I get from my weapon of choice the RB67 cut into two strips of two images and two strips of three images do not. Even the much less common 8.5"x11" size is a bit too narrow. The situation is no better when I shoot 35mm. Consider the contact sheet above, one I made many a year ago when I cut negatives into strips of five. As you can see seven strips of five images fit just perfectly on an 8"x10" sheet, but a quick bit of math and you'll realize the problem when you're shooting rolls of 36 exposures. These days I cut 35mm film into strips of six, which runs me into the same paper width issue. Looks like I need to get my hands on some 9.5"x12" paper, meaning I'll not only need larger trays but figure out a way to stack them. I'm already at the limit with 8"x10" trays in a darkroom that's dangerously close to qualifying as closet sized. Looks like another project has been added to the list. (SFX: grumbling noises) I'll keep you posted.