A Year in Photos

Photography, fiction, and personal essays form my three primary creative outlets. For this blog's first 18 months, I used it primarily for photography. As I've returned to creative writing, I'll use this blog for fiction, too. Sometimes, when reality needs to be discussed more than truth, I write personal essays.

This blog will continue to showcase as many above-average photos as I can muster. Hopefully my written work will be as good or better than the visual. Whichever drew you here -- photographs or fiction, I hope you enjoy both.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Voigtlander Perkeo 1

So I started this blog right before the busy season in my profession. Until the U.S. government's fiscal year end in September, I'll be pretty busy. So in-depth lens and camera reviews will have to wait. In the interim, here is a post with pictures of an old-timey camera I picked up over the weekend.

The Perkeo 1 is a 120mm folding camera that will be tested in a week or so when my film arrives. Ther Perkeo series consisted of three models, the 1, 2, and 3E. The 3E was the highest-end. I don't know all of the differences, but in general, cameras of the Perkeo's era had better lenses on the higher-end models. Some had other features, such as additional view finders or other doodads.

Without further ado, here are some photos of the Perkeo 1. For the whole set (61 shots), follow this link:


This is the Perkeo and its case, which is in pretty good shape, too. Cameras today, they're all function and glitz -- no design compassion. I want Ikea to design a camera. It will be simple, trendy, and made of paper.

Two small rubs on the front, a small dent on the top only perceptible in certain lightting, and dirt on the viewfinder -- these things alone show that it was not in its box yesterday.

The red plastic on the back is curious. I had thought any kind of light exposed film, yet this is the only way to accurately track film placement -- no counter.

Modern cameras lack something. It manifests as an absence of precociousness, unpredictability, and mechanical quirkyness. In short, modern cameras lack the old-timey cameras heart, their soul. Modern cameras are like a reliable Corolla or Civic whereas old-timey cameras are like a mid-eighties Alfa Romeo. Sometimes it may work, sometimes not, and there's never any real reason either way.

Here is the bellows unfolded from the inside.

The camera, unfolded, longing for film as a mitt longs for a ball. It cries out "Look at me; I can still take pictures. I can still focus. I can be relegated to someplace other than your garage. Please, someone, love me."

And now some artsy macro shots: