A Manifest of Misadventure with the Yashica 635 Twin Lens Reflex

One Yashica 635 Twin Lens Reflex Camera, One Roll of Kodak Gold 200 Film, and One Clumsy Photographer. The stage is set for a comedy of errors. Picture it: a sunny day, a camera in hand, and me, the clumsy protagonist, eager to capture the world through the lens of my trusty Yashica 635. Little did I know, a series of misadventures awaited.

Now, let me preface this tale by admitting my limited experience with this particular camera. While I’ve owned it for some time, our relationship has been more acquaintanceship than intimacy. And let me tell you, befriending a TLR (Twin Lens Reflex) camera is akin to navigating a labyrinth blindfolded. The handling is unlike anything I’ve encountered before—akin to trying to juggle flaming torches while riding a unicycle. If that sounds like an excuse, well, it probably is. But hey, let’s laugh at my foibles together, because trust me, if you haven’t wrestled with a TLR, you’re bound to stumble along the way too.

The journey begins innocently enough, the sun setting as I embark on my photographic escapade. Two shots down, and all seems well. But with the encroaching darkness, I failed to anticipate my utter ineptitude with this camera in low light conditions.

Armed with a tripod but sans tripod mount, I stumble through the dusk, it’s a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy—minus the laugh track. As I fumbled through the darkness I realised there’s a lesson to be learned amidst the chaos. Or at least that’s what I tell myself to salvage a shred of dignity from this debacle.

The Yashica 635

Now, let’s talk about the star of the show: the Yashica 635. Picture it as the middle child between the illustrious Rolleiflex and the humble Lubitel or Seagull. It may not boast the prestige of its elder siblings, but it holds its own in the quirky world of TLRs.

Dating back to 1958, this camera boasts a unique feature: the ability to shoot 35mm film with the help of an adapter—a rare gem for collectors, indeed. But beyond its novelty, the 635 operates like most TLRs, with its dual lenses and intricate mechanics.

Ah, but here’s where the fun begins—or rather, the frustration. You see, unlike modern SLRs with their handy prisms, TLRs present a topsy-turvy world. What you see through the viewfinder is but a mirror image of reality, leading to a dizzying dance of lefts and rights as I strive to frame the perfect shot.

But fear not, for science offers solace in the form of habituation. Yes, dear viewer, with time and practice, even the most topsy-turvy of worlds becomes familiar terrain. Just ask any psychology student who’s endured the “upside-down goggles” experiment—though I suspect their misadventures pale in comparison to mine.

Undeterred by my initial failures, I venture forth once more, this time bathed in the forgiving light of day. And lo and behold, progress! Though not without its hiccups, my second outing with the Yashica yields glimpses of its true character—quirks and all.

A Flawed but Beautiful Camera

Let’s not overlook its flaws. From film loading mishaps to the peril of double exposures, the 635 is not without its challenges. Yet, amidst the chaos lies beauty, because when it sings, medium format magic awaits, with its dreamy bokeh and timeless allure.

And let us not forget the charm of street photography with a TLR—unobtrusive, nostalgic, and occasionally mistaken for a relic of days gone by. For in a world of sleek digital wonders, there’s a certain romance to be found in the mechanical embrace of a Yashica.

But I digress. Let us return to the heart of the matter: the joy of failure. For in our missteps lie the seeds of growth, the kernels of wisdom waiting to be harvested. So here’s to the Yashica 635 and all who dare to dance with her—a flawed beauty in a world of perfection.

As Winston Churchill once said, “Success is not final, failure is not fatal, and it’s the courage to continue that counts.” So here’s to courage, to laughter, and to many more misadventures behind the lens.

The Nikon L35 AD and Exploring the Concept of Light in Photography

Let There Be Light

Let’s embark on a journey into the heart of one of photography’s most captivating elements: light. Ah, yes, light—the ethereal essence that dances upon the canvas of our visual narratives, weaving tales of brilliance and shadow, of illumination and obscurity. But what truly defines this enigmatic force?

Allow me to shed some light on the matter—pun intended. We all know light is the radiant energy manifested in the form of electromagnetic radiation, with wavelengths spanning from 380 to 750 nanometers, perceptible to the human eye. However, let us not confine ourselves rigid constraints of scientific definition. Let’s delve into the realm of poetry, where light becomes glancing, gleaming, glimmering, and beyond – and that’s just the G words.

Light shifts and changes. While our friends in the northern hemisphere find themselves enveloped in the cloak of darkness, here in my corner of the world, we find ourselves basking in the relentless embrace of summer’s scorching sun, leaving the venerable Sunny 16 rule in faded tatters. Here it goes up to 22.

Light and the Nikon L35AD

The Nikon L35AD is a date-back edition of the esteemed Nikon L35AF. This camera deserves a full review but let us not be hasty; today, our focus lies solely on its ability to harness that most precious of commodities—light.

Don’t expect an objective and scientific treatment of the subject here, though. There’s nothing objective about film. Film imbues each frame with a unique character, a personality all its own. In the case of my chosen film, Kodak Ultramax, we have a medium contrast stock, suitable for a myriad of conditions. However, as the astute among you may have already discerned, there were… complications. Yes, complications stemming from my own hubris.

There might have been a few errors during the development process. The results were a bit underdeveloped resulting in thin negatives. But I don’t blame the Nikon L35AD here. There error was in the one factor I could control – me.

Direction, Intensity, Quality, and Continuity: A Quest for the Perfect Light

So let’s try to break this concept down. Light has direction, intensity, quality, and continuity. Direction is probably the most obvious. As a young photographer, I was often reminded to shoot with the light at our backs, bathing our subjects in a soft, even glow. But that simplicity belies the true complexity of light’s nuances. Shoot from the side, you get more dimensionality and with the light behind your subject you get all the fun of silhouettes and halos.

Intensity, too, plays a pivotal role in shaping our photography. From the blistering radiance of the Australian sun to the gentle caress of cloud-filtered light, each variation presents its own unique challenges and opportunities. But sheer intensity isn’t everything. Whether crisp and clear or soft and diffused, the quality of light infuses our images with a palpable sense of atmosphere.

Finally, continuity. This often overlooked dimension of light isn’t so much about the light itself as the scene. Shadows dance across the landscape, reflections shimmer upon the water’s surface, and every object becomes a player in the grand symphony of illumination. How things in the scene, reflect, block and break up the light is a key component of being able to play with it.

Embrace the Light: A Call to Arms

In the end, whatever conditions you find yourself in, cast aside the shackles of convention and venture forth into the boundless realm of photographic exploration and embrace light. Let’s revel in the myriad possibilities that light presents, bending it to our will, shaping it to suit our vision. In the end, it is not the rules that define us, but our willingness to challenge them—to forge our own path in pursuit of luminous enlightenment.

So go forth, and may the light illuminate your path as you capture the world’s wonders through the lens of your camera.

Back to the 80s with the Nikon N2020/F-501

Today, I’m embarking on a journey into the world of vintage cameras with the Nikon N2020, dating back to 1986. The burning question on my mind: Is it as sharp as its name suggests, or does it fall into the category of outdated relics like acid wash jeans and hypercolour t-shirts? Join me as I set out to uncover the truth about this iconic piece of photography history.

Stepping back into the vibrant decade of the 1980s, I can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over me. But beyond the retro vibes, the Nikon N2020, also known as the Nikon F-501 in some parts of the world, captures the essence of its era with its sleek design and futuristic name. It’s like a time capsule, transporting us back to a period when the future seemed dazzlingly bright, and everyone rocked sunglasses at night.

Released in 1986, the Nikon N2020 emerged amidst a musical landscape dominated by hits like Duran Duran’s “Girl’s on Film” and J Geils Band’s “Freeze Frame”. It’s a time when every song seemed to begin with the sound of a motorized film winder, evoking a sense of nostalgia for a bygone era. The camera itself continues the sleek aesthetic of its predecessors, maintaining the iconic black exterior with red highlights that epitomized the 80s. It’s a nod to an era characterized by bold fashion choices and vibrant color palettes.

Despite being crafted from polycarbonate rather than brass, the Nikon N2020 feels surprisingly solid in my hands. Weighing in at 604g, it’s a testament to the durability of 80s design. Paired with a Nikon 28-105mm lens, the camera exudes an air of sophistication, blending seamlessly with the black plastic body. But beyond its aesthetic appeal, the lens proves to be a reliable companion, delivering sharp images throughout the zoom range with minimal distortion and chromatic aberration.

As I embark on a Sunday walk at my local beach to put the Nikon N2020 to the test, I encounter a minor hiccup with the film. However, this setback is quickly resolved with a second roll, allowing me to fully immerse myself in the shooting experience. Despite occasional struggles in bright light and the absence of a shutter priority mode, the camera impresses with its fast shutter speed and versatile shooting modes.

But let’s not overlook the quirks and flaws of the Nikon N2020. Its ergonomic design leaves much to be desired, and the motor drive isn’t exactly discreet, announcing its presence with a noticeable whir. Autofocus can be hit or miss, occasionally settling just forward or backward from the selected focus point. However, the bright viewfinder and LED focusing aid help mitigate these issues, ensuring a relatively smooth shooting experience.

Despite its imperfections, the Nikon N2020 boasts some impressive features for its time. From autofocus modes to TTL metering, it offers a level of control that’s commendable for a camera of its era. And with the ability to use both manual and DX settings for ISO, it provides flexibility in various shooting conditions.

As I reflect on my experience with the Nikon N2020, I can’t help but appreciate its timeless appeal. While it may not be perfect, it captures the essence of the 1980s in all its glory. And much like the era it represents, it’s a reminder that perfection is elusive, but beauty lies in imperfection. So, while I may not be flawless myself, I can embrace the retro charm of the Nikon N2020 and moonwalk through life with confidence. After all, in a world where nothing is perfect, sometimes it’s the quirks that make us truly memorable.