Here are some of the fantastically stupid things I’ve done or allowed to happen lately while shooting

• Double exposures
• Lost exposures from forgetting to insert darkslide before changing backs
• Lost exposures from forgetting to remove darkslide before exposing
• Watching ill-attached lens hood roll hundreds of feet down an extremely steep hill, to the bafflement of passers-by
• Jammed shutter due to premature winding
• Complete and utter bafflement upon realizing I have forgotten, yet again, which way to turn the crank to rewind my XA

Why have all these things happened to me? Is it because I’m an irredeemable moron? Yes, of course it is. But it’s not just that. It’s also to do with the fact that I’ve been shooting with all my cameras lately. Instead of doing what I usually do, which is shoot with one almost exclusively for several weeks at a time, I’ve been switching between my Koni-Omega, my RB67, my Bessa, my XA, and, to a lesser extent, my Nikkormat and D40. This makes it easier to lose track of the working rhythms that make operating each camera a smooth process. That means it takes me longer to do things, and it also means I’m much more likely to make mistakes.

Perhaps it’s a case of me owning too many cameras. I don’t think I’m quite ready to concede that, however, since none of my cameras are really redundant — unless I someday stop shooting birds, at which point I could perhaps sell off my Nikon gear. And certainly none of them is an exorbitant expense — all were the cheapest representative of their class, and almost all used. : )

In fact, what is probably called for is not avoiding camera changes, but getting more accustomed to swapping between cameras, and making that working rhythm something which is habitual, and something which I can count on myself to bring off efficiently.

Of course it couldn’t be a Leica, despite the tantalizing logic of the Leica for a year idea, because (1) I don’t think I need to a Leica for its educational value; what will it really teach me that I can’t learn from my Koni-Omega? and (2) there’s no way I would be able to sell it at the end of the year, which undermines a key point of that tantalizing logic. I know me; I don’t like to part with gear.

But the idea of a system rangefinder remained compelling, because while I love my Koni-Omega and my Olympus XA, neither is very good for low-light work. The Koni-Omega lacks fast lenses, and the XA’s fulltime aperture priority and maximum 800 ISO metering make it great for moderate low light conditions but terrible for really dark situations.

There are some good fixed-lens rangefinders with faster lenses and manual control, but I wanted the ability to swap lenses and add in a second body later if it really clicked for me. I also didn’t want a FSU rangefinder, because I wanted something reliable and with straightforward operation. With those criteria and my persistent cheap-skatiness, the best option was a used early Bessa. What I settled on was a Bessa R which came with a 35mm f/1.7 Ultron.

I haven’t used the camera much yet, but I’m quite happy with it so far.

It definitely has some odd quirks, some of which I feel comfortable identifying as design flaws — the shutter speed selector is a pain to access, because it’s obscured by the advance lever. Not impossible to get to, of course, and with the lever extended a bit, it’s not even an issue, but it’s not a very elegant design. The film rewind lever is sort of cleverly designed, but doesn’t feel very sturdy — although it’s the only aspect of the camera that strikes me that way; I was surprised by how solid most of it seems.

Also, the black rubbery plastic (or whatever) around the middle of the body has a slightly odd smell, which I got to know pretty well for a while, because I’m left-eyed. (I.e., my nose gets pressed up against the body, as with most of my cameras.) However, this seems to have largely dissipated now that the camera has been aired out.

There are also some things that I really miss from my Nikkormat FT-2. When shooting 35mm film, I’m used to being able to look at the top of the camera to check my exposure without bringing the camera up to my eye — this is really convenient when I’m moving in and out of sun and shadow and I need to continually adjust the exposure. I miss that when working with the Bessa, and I also miss the positioning of the shutter speed selector on a ring around the lens, instead of on a dial at the top of the camera.

But despite the lack of those little flourishes, I was surprised at how solid and usable the camera feels. A lot of reviews point to its cheap plastic build quality — and yes, it’s inexpensive, and yes, there’s plastic in it, but it doesn’t feel shoddily made, by any means. Of course, most of those reviews were written by people who had used Leicas, and I never have, so I don’t have to worry about that particular comparison. : )

However, this is all basically tangential to what i really care about in this camera — which is fast focusing in low light conditions. In that regard, it’s fantastic. The viewfinder is bright, the rangefinder is easy to see in dim light, and it seems to focus quite positively.

I haven’t had a chance to use it all that much, yet. I’ve only put a roll and a half through it, and none of it’s exactly photographic genius, but it certainly works….

For a while now, I’ve been wanting a compact camera to replace the Sony point and shoot that’s currently on extended loan to my sister — extended loan, meaning I’ll probably never see it again. : )

But, knowing somewhat more about photography than I did when I got that camera, and in particular knowing that I often want to shoot in available light conditions, without flash, I was wary of buying a digital compact of the kind currently on the market. High ISO performance is simply too lame. This is a problem which is directly related to the size of the sensors used in these cameras, and until there is a major improvement in the design of sensor, or until the use of larger sensors in compact cameras (like the buggy and fiendishly expensive Sigma DP-1) becomes more common, I decided I would need to start looking more toward compact film cameras. Shooting film at high ISOs is not exactly a grain-free exercise, of course, but I find film grain to be generally unobjectionable (if not desirable), whereas digital noise in color images has to be massaged quite a bit before I find it presentable.

When looking for a film compact, I mostly steered clear of autofocus film cameras. Not that there’s anything wrong with autofocus per se, but I’ve become so accustomed to manual focus that I really don’t like the idea of doing without it — weird, I know, because it’s a step backward in functionality, but we all have our quirks.

So, I recently purchased a fascinating little piece of 70’s-era camera history: The Olympus XA. It looks like one of thouse silly plastic fixed-focus cameras, the sort of thing you might have bought for a particularly stupid and/or clumsy niece of nephew about to go on a trip. But what it really is, is one of the smallest coupled rangefinder cameras ever made.

For those not in the know, “coupled rangefinder” means that you’re not viewing the image through the lens, as in an SLR, but through a separate viewfinder, but that there’s a focusing aid coupled to the lens, to let you know when you’re in focus. How this works is there’s a little square projected into the middle of the viewfinder with a second, overlay image, and you adjust the focus until the images match.

This method of focusing allows rangefinder cameras to be designed more compactly than SLRs — no need for mirrors and prisms to redirect the light path. Rangefinder cameras can also be much quieter, and there are other benefits, like the absence of mirror slap — the motion of the mirror being lifted out of the way, which can cause problems at certain shutter speeds. These factors — in particular the compact size and the quiet — have made Leicas a favorite of street photographers and journalists.

Rangefinders have limitations; they aren’t much good for shooting at long focal lengths, at macro magnifications. They also can present problems because of parallax error. This is why I won’t be switching to Leica for birding any time soon.

Now, I’d love to use something like a Leica as my new point and shoot replacement, but I don’t have that kind of cash. Heck, even used Leica clones can be disconcertingly expensive. There are less expensive rangefinders with fixed lenses — like the Canonet — that nonetheless look and handle and shoot more like a “real” camera, and I looked at these, but I eventually settled on the XA, because, while it’s more limited in terms of its optics and functionality than some of those alternatives, it’s also by far the most pocketable. Given that my goal here is not to replace either my DSLR or my SLR, but rather to supplement them with a very compact, very portable backup, it makes the most sense.

Form factor and controls

The form factor is interesting. The design is quite impressive — tiny, lightweight, reasonably ergonomic. There is a “dust cover” that conceals the lens and viewfinder; sliding this aside turns the camera on and lets you take pictures.

Because the lens is pretty much flush with the body — a big part of the design feat — focusing is done with a small lever at the bottom of the camera. The aperture (it’s basically a full-time aperture priority camera) is set with a small slider on the right side of the camera. The shutter release is a big red button that you sort of brush with your finger — the release is electronic. The rest is fairly conventional.

It really is, by the way, fully pocketable. Shirt pocket, pants pocket, whatever. Because of its relative thickness, it does tend to bulge slightly, so wearers of extremely tight jeans should be appropriately wary.

Use and usability

So, how’s it working? First off, focusing using the double-image rangefinder is really cool, and when it works, it’s really quite fast compared to focusing using a split prism. There are two caveats, though:

• Focus and recompose is tricky. With an SLR, even if the focusing aid (prism, AF point, whatever) can’t be positioned over the subject, it is still possible to gauge focus using the matte areas of the focusing screen. With a rangefinder, you only have visual feedback about focus within the area of the doubled image. This means you have to be extra cautious when recomposing, so as not to disturb the relationship between the subject and the film plane.
• Overlay brightness. It can be hard to see the overlay, depending on what the light is like that you’re shooting in. This also applies to the shutter speed readout. I seem to recall somewhere that some folks put something translucent over the viewfinder to compensate for this.

I was surprised at how comfortable the camera is to hold. It doesn’t really work to support it from below, as you would an SLR. With an SLR, the weight of the camera is, in itself, a big part of what keeps things steady; with the XA, that simply isn’t a factor. I find I basically have to hold it from both sides — stupid tourist style — with perhaps a thumb thrown underneath. Having pressure applied from multiple angles seems to be essential.

Fortunately, I don’t mind looking like a stupid tourist. : )

Test shots

I’ve only shot one roll through the XA so far, a roll of Fuji Superia 800. I don’t much care for Fuji film, so far — but it’s just a test roll, and I wanted an 800-speed film (The XA’s max ISO) so that I could shoot in available light when needed. My second roll, the one in the camera now, is Kodak Portra 800. After that I’ll try running another roll of Superia through at a lower rating.

Setting aside questions of emulsion, there are aspects of image quality which have to do with the camera, and especially its lens. It’s definitely not like shooting with my Nikkor lenses; there’s a definite softness to the XA, and I noticed some impressive chromatic aberration in one of my test shots.

But that’s not a deal-breaker. The XA’s lens gives it a certain quality, a character, that is peculiar to it and not unpleasant. We’re not in Holga territory, here, but there is an XA “look” that is rather appealing not just despite but at least partly because of its slightly off IQ. I just need to figure out how to use it to best effect.