My Bellami

Since before the age of the ubiquitous camera phone I have considered it ideal that there never be a time that a camera wasn't within easy reach. A rare opportunity can unexpectedly present itself even when running the most mundane errand. Long held as that notion may be however, finding the camera to serve in that role to my full satisfaction has eluded me for decades. Wile I won't deny the aforementioned camera phones these days can do a surprisingly good job for what they are, at least in full daylight, they are still an option of last resort for me. I can't help thinking I'd feel awfully let down if a once in a lifetime image did present itself to me and all I had for it was the image capture device that inspired the selfie stick. More to the point, I don't even own one really. My cost/benefit table for mobile phones still adds up on the side of not getting one (and only some of those costs are measured in dollars.) Finally, as future episodes will make clear, my workflow is moving further from anything that could easily accommodate the occasional digital image in the mix anyway.

If you've been following for a while you might remember the past episode Medium Format To Go where I discussed using my Iskra folding rangefinder camera as a possible way to have my long sought after take everywhere camera. Back then I had the lovely notion that as the camera tucked away easily into an ordinary backpack I could simply begin taking the backpack I already used to cart lunch and other essentials back and forth to work each day everywhere I went, much like carrying a purse only in a more socially acceptable form for a man in the particular time and place where I live. Socially acceptable to carry perhaps but still a bit strange a thing to carry along for no apparent reason when visiting friends and family, and on one occasion deemed too threatening a thing for a customer to carry with them in a supermarket although at least half the customers seemed to be carrying purses, some large enough to easily accommodate a medium sized pot roast without looking suspiciously full, gaping wide open in the toddler seat of their shopping carts. If I were the sort to make a scene I'm sure I would have. I was sorely tempted as it was. In the end though it was one more strike against the notion of being able to carry that camera everywhere. I do still carry it a lot of places, it's just not the always at hand camera I hoped it would be.

The obvious answer was to look for an ultra-compact 35mm camera. There are some capable models out there that give full size 24x36mm negatives in a package that can be downright pocketable. The problem is that most of the cameras that would have fit the bill are models that would be lumped into the point-and-shoot category. When I was in photo retail in the 80's and 90's and these cameras were in their heyday there were enough lacklustre performers in this category that the term point-and-shoot became shorthand for a camera I just couldn't get excited about. I had become, to put it bluntly, too much of a snob to consider such a camera.

Giving credit where do I have to say it was endless hours listening to The Film Photography Podcast that got me off my high horse, gradually instilling in me a respect for even the humblest of cameras. If people are out there making great images with plastic cameras then who am I to overlook a potentially great little point-and-shoot. And whatever I thought of the category as a whole, there are some great little point-and-shoots out there. Better still, some of the greatest are also some of the littlest. Part of the reason for this is that the smallest cameras don't have zoom lenses. It's hard enough to design a zoom to match the performance of a single focal length lens, but add to this the requirements of keeping everything compact as well as keeping costs reasonable and what you typically get is... meh.

There are, as I was vaguely aware, some truly compact cameras out there that have earned outstanding reputations that those more prone to exaggeration than I often characterize as cult status. Smallest of the bunch, the Minox 35 series certainly has its adorers, though a bit of research revealed they also have a reputation for electronics failures that can render the camera useless. Rollei also made tiny manual 35mm, but these could also be rather pricey. Highest on my list were a pair of Olympus models, the XA or the later Stylus Epic that took its place. Both are sought after models on the used market, bringing their value well above the yard sale prices nearly any other semi-vintage point-and-shoot sells for these days, but still within reason for someone willing to pay for a good little performer.

A shot from my iPad illustrating 1) my Chinon Bellami and 2) why

 I would chose to use it in favour of my iPad's built in camera.

It seemed the only question was whether, when this post eventually appeared, it would be about the older XA or the more recent Stylus Epic. The reason it isn't either is that a bit of frustration set in after a few of what I thought were generous online auction bids failed to take bring home the prize a bit of frustration began to set in. All the while I started doing a little research on a similar camera I found that could be had by the first person willing to pony up about a third of what my failed Olympus bids had been. It was a Chinon Bellami, similar in size to the Olympus's (Olympi?) that were eluding me it boasted a coated 4 elements in 3 groups lens (Tessar type) lens that the few reviewers I was able to find online for this cameras thought rather highly of. I knew Chinon as the maker of a nice little SLR similar to Pentax's K1000 (and also capable of accepting the same Pentax K-mount lenses) with similar quality despite the lower price the low-profile Chinons commanded on the market at the time. The little Bellami seemed to be a similar case. Well built with a metal chassis and a clever tucked away lens that springs open to use from behind its protective barn-doors cover it seemed a fair bet this little camera from the reputable but unheralded manufacturer could be a diamond in the rough.

Like the Olympus XA the Chinon Bellami was sold with a detachable dedicated flash of a type which, over the years often get separated from their companion camera, but with the camera I bought they were still a pair. For the most part I leave the flash at home to keep things small but it's easy to re-attach if I think I'll be doing any shooting indoors or into the dusk. It has a 35mm f/2.8 lens, matching the more sought after members of its class. Exposure is completely automated with a red-light warning in the viewfinder to let you know if low light levels make it necessary to select a shutter speed below 1/60th of a second.

The only real downside in my estimation is that, lacking the Olympus XA's true rangefinder or the Stylus Epic's autofocus it employs a system I affectionately refer to as guess-u-focus. One simply estimates the distance to the subject, dials this estimate into the distance scale on the lens and hopes depth of field exceeds margin of error. This isn't really a problem for landscape type shots as any distance beyond about 10 metres is effectively infinity. At portrait distances the need for accuracy increase as light levels drop off, demanding wider apertures. In early evening light with 400 speed film I find I can still be assured of reasonable results, though tack sharpness may be hit or miss.

So far my Bellami has hosted two rolls of HP5+ in as many weeks since it arrived, due mainly to my desire to put it through its paces. They aren't the sort of gallery destined once in a lifetime images I got this camera vowing never to miss. They're more the photo album destined type that might be a bit of a laugh now but as memories of last week don't mean much now. Last week will be way back when too quickly. I can imagine the famed image this camera may one day capture hanging on the wall, ignored, as yet unborn beloved flip trough pages squealing in laughter, hardly believing that's how their parents really looked at teenagers. Sometimes you just never know where the real treasures will be found.

A fairly close subject in diminishing light challenges one's ability to estimate lens to subject distance, a ncessary skill if one hopes to get good images with the Bellami. I'm sure I'll get more consistent with practice but here I just about nailed it.