Tag: StreetPhotography

The Minox GT-E: A Pocket-Sized German Wizard That Cures G.A.S. (Gear Acquisition Syndrome)

Minox GT-E with Kokak C200

1. Introduction: When “Point-and-Shoot” Meets “Point-and-Giggle”

Let’s get real: the Minox GT-E is the Tamagotchi of film cameras. It’s tiny, it’s plastic, and it’s so delightfully German, you’ll half-expect it to lecture you about efficiency while brewing espresso. Released in the ’90s as Minox’s swan song, this pocket rocket proves that good things do come in small packages—especially if those packages say “Made in Germany” in Comic Sans.

Is it perfect? No.
Is it the most charming way to burn through Kodak Gold? Abso-freaking-lutely.

2. Design: “Plastic? More Like Passionate”

Specs:

  • Weight: 185g (or “lighter than your last Tinder date’s personality”).
  • Materials: Space-age plastic that somehow feels warmer than a hug from your grandma.
  • Aesthetic: A soap bar with a lens. A calculator that takes photos. A vibe.

The GT-E’s secret weapon? Ergonomics that’ll make you weep. The grip molds to your hand like it’s been waiting decades to meet you. It’s the only plastic camera that won’t make you mutter, “Should’ve bought a Leica.”

Pro Tip: If your camera doesn’t double as a stress ball, you’re overpaying.

3. Optical Performance: “Zeiss’s Cheeky Cousin”

Specs:

  • Lens: MC Minoxar 35mm f/2.8 (the “Little Engine That Could”).
  • Coatings: Multi-coated like a Tesla Cybertruck, with a built-in skylight filter because Germans plan ahead.
  • Special Sauce: Aperture priority mode that’s smoother than a Berlin techno beat.

Sharpness:

  • Center: Crisper than a pretzel fresh out of the oven.
  • Edges: Soft enough to make your photos look like they’re dreaming.
Minox GT-E with Kokak C200

Bokeh:

At f/2.8, backgrounds melt into a watercolor haze that screams, “I’m artistic, but I also do taxes.”

Fun Fact: This lens resolves details like a nosy neighbor—subtle but thorough.

4. The “Anti-G.A.S.” Therapy

The GT-E is photographic methadone for gear addicts. Shoot one roll, and suddenly your eBay cart full of $3,000 Leica M6s feels… silly. Why? Because this plastic wonder delivers 90% of the joy for 1% of the price.

Side Effects May Include:

  • Sudden disinterest in pixel-peeping.
  • Urges to actually finish rolls of film.
  • Grinning like a fool while holding a camera smaller than your phone.

5. Real-World Use: “The Invisible Photographer”

  • Street Photography: Silent shutter? Check. Discreet size? Check. Ability to disappear into a crowd like a ninja in a tracksuit? Double check.
  • Late-Night Reading Buddy: Use the viewfinder as a makeshift mirror to check for popcorn in your teeth.
  • Emotional Support Camera: Fits in your pocket, warms your hand, and never judges your life choices.

Pro Tip: Shoot a roll of Cinestill 800T at dusk. The GT-E’s color science will make gas stations look like Kubrick sets.

6. Quirks & Quibbles: “Charm Offensive”

Pros:

  • Portability: Fits in a jeans pocket, a fanny pack, or a squirrel’s cheek.
  • Aperture Priority: Lets you focus on seeing instead of fiddling.
  • Built-In Filter: Because UV filters are for peasants.

Cons:

  • Plastic Fantastic: Feels like it’ll outlive you, but still triggers existential dread in Leica snobs.
  • No Manual Focus: But let’s be real—you’re here to shoot, not to play surgeon.

7. The “Leica Heaven” Clause

Minox knew what they were doing. The GT-E’s lens is so good, it comes with an unspoken promise: “When I die, Leica will adopt me.” Until then, it’s content being the underdog that punches up.

Fun Fact: The “Germany” engraving on the lens isn’t a label—it’s a threat to lesser cameras.

8. Final Verdict: “The Cure for Consumerism”

The Minox GT-E isn’t a camera. It’s a philosophy. It’s for photographers who’d rather make images than buy gear, who think joy shouldn’t require a second mortgage, and who believe the best camera is the one that’s always in your pocket.

Buy it if:

  • You want Leica vibes without the Leica debt.
  • You’re tired of cameras that weigh more than your childhood trauma.
  • You enjoy confusing Instagram influencers with “What’s THAT?”

Skip it if:

  • You need EXIF data to validate your existence.
  • Your hands are bigger than a toddler’s.

Rating: 5/5 stars (minus 0 for anything, because nostalgia).

Now go forth and shoot. Or just cradle it like a baby hedgehog. We don’t care. 📸✨

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Minox GT-E with Kokak C200

The Carl Zeiss Jena 35mm f/2.4: A Vintage Lens That Thinks It’s a Swiss Army Knife (And It’s Kinda Right)

ziess jena 35mm f2.4 + sony a7s

1. Introduction: When East Germany Made Magic

Let’s get real: the Carl Zeiss Jena 35mm f/2.4 is the unicorn of vintage glass. It’s a Cold War relic that somehow outshines modern lenses, a socialist-era gem that laughs at capitalist logic, and a pancake lens that’s somehow also a macro beast. Released when disco was still cool, this little DDR darling proves that East Germany did more than just build the Berlin Wall—they built a damn fine lens.

Is it perfect? No.
Is it ridiculously fun to shoot? Abso-freaking-lutely.

ziess jena 35mm f2.4 + sony a7s

2. Build Quality: “Chunky Charm with a Side of Nostalgia”

Specs:

  • Weight: 248g (or “heavy enough to feel German, light enough to avoid chiropractor bills”).
  • Materials: Metal, glass, and a dash of communist stubbornness.
  • Aesthetic: A brushed-metal brick that whispers, “I survived the ’70s, and I’ll outlive your mirrorless camera.”

The Flektogon 35mm f/2.4 is built like a Trabant—quirky, indestructible, and weirdly lovable. The focus ring turns smoother than a Bowie vinyl, and that M42 mount? Pure retro flex.

Pro Tip: If your lens doesn’t double as a self-defense tool, you’re not holding it right.

3. Optical Performance: “The F/2.4 That Out-Bokehs F/2”

Specs:

  • Focal Length: 35mm (the “Goldilocks” of street photography).
  • Aperture: f/2.4 (because East Germany loved almost breaking rules).
  • Special Sauce: Magic dust stolen from a Wes Anderson film.

Bokeh Sorcery:

This lens defies physics. At f/2.4, backgrounds melt into a watercolor dreamscape that’s creamier than a Bavarian latte. It’s like Zeiss said, *“Who needs f/1.4 when you’ve got socialist engineering?”*

Fun Fact: The bokeh is so smooth, it could convince a Leica fanboy to defect.

Sharpness:

  • Center: Cuts through reality like a Stasi agent interrogating a capitalist spy.
  • Edges: Soft enough to make you question capitalism… but who looks at edges anyway?

4. The “Swiss Army Knife” Superpowers

  • Macro Mode: Focuses down to 0.19m—close enough to count a ladybug’s freckles.
  • Street Photography: 35mm lets you capture life’s chaos without getting punched.
  • Portraits: f/2.4 serves just enough blur to make your subject pop like a strudel at a bake-off.

Pro Tip: Use it for everything. Literally. Flowers, faces, UFO sightings—this lens doesn’t care.

ziess jena 35mm f2.4 + sony a7s

5. Color Science: “The Rainbow Factory Called Dresden”

  • Straight-out-of-camera JPEGs: Cold-war cool with a dash of Ostalgie (that’s “East German nostalgia” for you capitalists).
  • RAW Flexibility: Desaturate it, and it morphs into a moody poet. Crank the vibrancy, and it’s a disco ball.
  • Golden Hour Glory: Turns sunlight into liquid amber.

Warning: Shooting with this lens may cause sudden urges to wear Adidas tracksuits and hum 99 Luftballons.

6. Quirks & Quibbles: “Love Letters from 1975”

Pros:

  • Versatility: Does macro, street, and portraits like a caffeinated octopus.
  • Character: Delivers that “I shot this on expired film” vibe without the expired film.
  • Price: Cheaper than a weekend in Berlin (if you avoid eBay scalpers).

Cons:

  • Aperture Blades: 6 straight blades make bokeh balls look like ninja stars at f/2.8. Embrace the chaos.
  • Flare Drama: Shoot into the sun, and you’ll get artistic ghosting. Or just call it “Soviet ambiance.”

7. The “Leica vs. Zeiss” Cold War (Spoiler: Everyone Wins)

  • Leica Comparison: Sharper than a Leica Summicron in the center, but with 10% of the pretentiousness.
  • Modern Zeiss: Less clinical, more “let’s drink schnapps and write poetry.”
  • Verdict: This lens is the lovechild of Leica’s soul and Zeiss’s brains—raised behind the Iron Curtain.

8. Final Verdict: “The People’s Lens”

The Carl Zeiss Jena 35mm f/2.4 isn’t a lens. It’s a time machine. It’s for photographers who crave character over perfection, who think bokeh should be felt, not measured, and who’d rather shoot than flex their gear on Instagram.

ziess jena 35mm f2.4 + sony a7s

Buy it if:

  • You want vintage charm without the vintage price tag.
  • You enjoy confusing millennials with “ancient tech.”
  • You’ve ever wondered, “What if Wes Anderson designed a lens?”

Skip it if:

  • You need autofocus (or basic human patience).
  • Your idea of fun is pixel-peeping at 400%.

Rating: 4.7/5 stars (minus 0.3 for the ninja-star bokeh balls, because priorities).

ziess jena 35mm f2.4 + sony a7s

Spec Sheet for Geeks (Because We Know You’re Reading This):

  • Aperture Blades: 6 straight (ninja stars included).
  • Close Focus: 0.19m (aka “close enough to smell the sauerkraut”).
  • Weight: 248g (heavier than your regrets, lighter than your DSLR).
  • Flare Resistance: Optional.
ziess jena 35mm f2.4 + sony a7s

The Yashica ML 35mm f/2.8: The Budget Contax That’s Basically a Cheat Code

sony a7s with yashica 35mm f2.8 ml

1. Introduction: When “Vintage” Means “Secretly Awesome”

Let’s get real: the Yashica ML 35mm f/2.8 is the undercover cop of vintage lenses. It looks like Contax’s thrift-store cousin, shoots like a mini Zeiss, and costs less than a week’s worth of avocado toast. Mount it on a Contax body, and suddenly you’re a “serious photographer.” Mount it on anything else, and you’re just… sensible.

Is it perfect? No.
Is it ridiculously good for the price? Absolutely.

2. Optical Performance: “Almost Zeiss, But With a Side of Humble Pie”

Specs:

  • Focal Length: 35mm (the “Goldilocks” of street photography).
  • Aperture: f/2.8 (or “how to make your photos look expensive-ish”).
  • Construction: 6 elements in 5 groups (because Yashica loves efficiency).

Sharpness:

  • Center: Razor-sharp, like a stand-up comedian’s punchlines.
  • Edges: Soft, like your grandma’s butter cookies. But hey, who looks at the edges anyway?

Colors:

Straight out of camera? A bit flat, like a soda left open overnight. But tweak the white balance (nudge it warmer), and suddenly it’s serving Contax vibes on a Yashica budget.

Pro Tip: Shoot RAW, add a dash of contrast, and watch this lens transform from “meh” to “oh damn.”

3. Design: “Tiny Titan, Big Attitude”

  • Build Quality: Metal barrel, rubber focus ring, and enough heft to feel substantial without weighing down your camera bag.
  • Size: Compact enough to fit in a jacket pocket, yet heavy enough to bonk a paparazzi in self-defense.
  • Aesthetic: Retro chic, like a ’70s sports car… if that car were made of recycled optimism.

Fun Fact: Pair it with a Contax body, and Japanese photographers will nod at you in silent approval. Pair it with a Canon Rebel, and they’ll pretend not to see you.

4. Real-World Use: “The Street Shooter’s Secret Weapon”

  • Street Photography: The 35mm focal length is perfect for capturing life’s chaos without getting punched.
  • Portraits: At f/2.8, backgrounds melt into a creamy blur that’s almost L-lens worthy.
  • Travel: Lightweight and discreet, it’s the ideal companion for when you want to look like a tourist but shoot like a pro.

Warning: The edges are softer than a kitten’s paw. Just crop ’em out and call it “artistic framing.”

5. The “Contax Illusion” Hack

Japanese photographers swear by Yashica lenses on Contax bodies. Why? Because it’s like putting a Honda engine in a BMW—nobody notices until you tell them.

  • Contax Body + Yashica Lens = Instant street cred.
  • Yashica Body + Contax Lens = A crime against humanity.

6. Pros & Cons: “The Good, the Bad, and the Cozy”

Pros:

  • Price: Cheaper than a Contax lens cap.
  • Size: Fits in a pocket, a purse, or a squirrel’s nest.
  • Character: Delivers that “vintage pop” without the vintage price tag.

Cons:

  • Edge Softness: Corners look like they’re on a Vaseline bender.
  • Straight-Out-of-Camera JPGs: As exciting as plain oatmeal.
  • No Aura of Pretentiousness: You’ll still have to explain it’s not a Zeiss.

7. Final Verdict: “The Hipster’s Guilty Pleasure”

The Yashica ML 35mm f/2.8 isn’t a lens. It’s a life hack. It’s proof that you don’t need to sell a kidney to shoot like a Contax snob. It’s a reminder that sometimes, almost perfect is perfect enough.

Buy it if:

  • You want Contax vibes without the Contax debt.
  • You enjoy confusing gear nerds at coffee shops.
  • You’re okay with cropping edges like a mad gardener.

Skip it if:

  • You need corner-to-corner sharpness (get a Zeiss, you diva).
  • You’re allergic to post-processing.

Rating: 4/5 stars (minus 1 for the edges, because priorities).

Now go forth and shoot. Or just admire how tiny it is. We don’t care. 📸✨

sony a7s with yashica 35mm f2.8 ml

The Ricoh GR1s: A Pocket-Sized Time Machine to the ‘90s (And Why You’ll Look Cooler Than a Hipster on a Fixie

Introduction: When Your Camera Fits in Your Pocket (And Your Soul)

Let’s be real: the Ricoh GR1s is the James Dean of film cameras. It’s compact, it’s cool, and it doesn’t give a damn about your Instagram filters. Designed in the ‘90s, worshipped in the 2020s, this little black box is the reason your Fuji X100V feels like a try-hard.

I took it for a spin to channel my inner Daido Moriyama. Spoiler: I didn’t become a street photography legend. But I did scare a pigeon.

Design: “A Brick, But Make It Fashion”

Specs:

  • Size: Smaller than a TV remote (and twice as fun).
  • Weight: 185g (or “light enough to forget it’s in your jeans… until you sit on it”).
  • Aesthetic: A minimalist black slab that screams, “I read Sartre and drink black coffee.”

The GR1s looks like a calculator designed by a Japanese architect. But that chunky front grip? Pure genius. It’s like shaking hands with a robot that gets you.

Pro Tip: If your camera doesn’t make you feel like a spy, you’re holding it wrong.

Controls: “Simplicity, Thy Name Is Ricoh”

The GR1s’ controls are smoother than a jazz saxophonist:

  • Top Plate: A single “MODE” button toggles between auto-everything and Snap Mode (more on that later).
  • Left Side: A gorgeous exposure comp dial (+/- 2 stops) and flash selector. It’s like having a tiny DJ mixer for light.
  • Right Side: Nothing. Because sometimes less is more.

No menus. No touchscreens. Just pure, unadulterated clicks.

4. Snap Mode: “The Ninja Setting”

Engage Snap Mode, and the GR1s becomes a street-shooting samurai. It locks focus between 1-3 meters (translation: “everything in this general vicinity will be sharp-ish”). No autofocus lag. No whirring motors. Just click and chaos.

Why It Rules:

  • Perfect for capturing strangers mid-sneeze.
  • Makes you feel like a photojournalist fleeing paparazzi.

Why It’s Alone: Other “snap” cameras exist (looking at you, Samsung), but they’re about as refined as a kazoo solo.

The Lens: 28mm f/3.5 (Or “How to Be Wide Without Trying”)

Specs:

  • Focal Length: 28mm (because seeing the world through a mailbox slot is art).
  • Aperture: f/3.5 (not fast, but faster than your ex’s excuses).

This lens is sharper than a stand-up comedian’s punchlines. It’s also tiny—like a contact lens with ambitions. Moriyama’s high-contrast, gritty style? That’s all him. The GR1s just serves the canvas.

Fun Fact: Moriyama switched to digital GRs, but rumor has it his Wi-Fi password is still “ILOVEFILM.”

Stealth Level: “Ninja Approved”

  • Silent Shutter: The GR1s is quieter than a librarian’s sigh.
  • Blue LCD Backlight: Glows like a cyborg’s heartbeat in low light.
  • Wrist Strap: Lets you swing it like a pocket watch while pretending to check the time.

The Moriyama Paradox: “Destroyer or Savior?”

Moriyama’s high-contrast, chaotic style made the GR1s iconic. But it also cursed it. Newbies buy it expecting “instant art,” only to realize they have to do the work.

Moriyama’s Wisdom:

  • “Great photography is about waking people up to the drama in the mundane.”
  • “Also, maybe stop copying my contrast settings, Karen.”

Downsides: “It’s Not Perfect (But Neither Are You)”

  • Battery Dependency: No juice? No photos. Bring spares or embrace existential dread.
  • Plastic Parts: The film door creaks like a haunted house floor.
  • Price: Used GR1s prices now rival a kidney. Thanks, hipsters.

Final Verdict: “A Camera for the Brave, Not the Basic”

The Ricoh GR1s isn’t a camera. It’s a philosophy. A reminder that greatness fits in your pocket. A middle finger to megapixels and menu-diving.

Buy it if:

  • You think “vintage” isn’t just a filter.
  • You’re ready to see, not just shoot.

Skip it if:

  • You need autofocus faster than your attention span.
  • You think photography requires a backpack full of gear.

Rating: 5/5 stars (for soul). 0/5 stars (for impressing your TikTok followers).

Now go forth and shoot like it’s 1996. Or just cradle the GR1s and whisper sweet nothings. We don’t care. 📸✨

The Fracture of Dusk

Captured with a Sony A7 and Zeiss Jena 35mm f2.4.

Winter is nearly gone now, though the cold lingers, a faint sharpness in the air, and the city seems to carry its own kind of chill, distant and reserved. I’ve been careful, I suppose, in keeping myself apart, a little different from others, though I hardly notice how it happens—how my eyes catch the small, strange things that slip through the cracks of the everyday. This evening, the sun hung low, its light broken by a thick seam of clouds, and it felt almost unreal, like something from a film—perhaps that black hole in Interstellar, silent and immense. I reached for my camera, quickly, as if I could trap it, that fleeting moment when the world seemed to pause and whisper something I couldn’t quite grasp.

The Leicaflex R6: The Camera That Proves Germans Can Do Subtle (Mostly)

LEICA R6

Introduction: When “Mechanical” Isn’t a Euphemism for “Antique”

Let’s get this straight: the Leica R6 isn’t a camera. It’s a mechanical haiku. A 35mm film SLR so stubbornly analog, it makes your grandpa’s pocket watch look like a smartwatch. No batteries. No mercy. Just gears, springs, and enough Teutonic overengineering to make a BMW engineer weep.

If the Leicaflex SL2 is a Panzer, the R6 is a VW Golf GTI—small, precise, and sneakily brilliant. It’s what happens when Leica says, “Fine, we’ll make a Japanese-style SLR… but we’ll do it properly.”

Continue reading The Leicaflex R6: The Camera That Proves Germans Can Do Subtle (Mostly)

Konica Recorder: The Camera That Whispers to Time

The Joy of Imperfection

In an age where cameras sprint after specs like greyhounds chasing robot rabbits—panting for more megapixels, more frames per second—the Konica Recorder lounges in the corner, unimpressed. It’s a dog-eared paperback, slightly yellowed, sitting smugly amid a library of glossy 4K e-readers who whisper, “Upgrade me.”

This 1984 relic, half plastic, half metal—a haiku interrupted by a hiccup—weighs less than a barista’s latte spoon (390g). It costs about as much as a week’s worth of avocado toast (180–180–220 in 2025 USD), which is to say: not much, unless you’re the toast.

It doesn’t strut around promising perfection, doesn’t care for your Instagram likes. Instead, it offers a shrug and a truth: “To record life, let the light sneak in through the cracks—neatness is overrated, darling.”

konica recoder

Design: The Art of Casual Elegance

  • Unapologetic Plastic: Not Leica’s cold brass, but the warm texture of a kindergarten’s well-loved building blocks. The slide-open lens cover clicks like a librarian’s favorite stamp—functional, nostalgic, irreplaceable.
  • Battery Zen: Two AAs hum where others demand boutique cells. A fifth of its body is power storage—fitting for a camera that outlasts trends like mountains outlast rain.
  • Hexanon Soul: The lens hides Konica’s secret—optical clarity sharper than a Parisian’s wit, yet gentler than dawn light through lace curtains.
Continue reading Konica Recorder: The Camera That Whispers to Time

The Voigtländer Bessa II: A Folding Camera So Cool, It Probably Wears Sunglasses Indoors

Voigtlander Bessa II
Voigtlander Bessa II
Voigtlander Bessa II
Voigtlander Bessa II
Voigtlander Bessa II
Voigtlander Bessa II
Voigtlander Bessa II
Voigtlander Bessa II
Voigtländer Bessa II

By someone who just spent 45 minutes unfolding this thing in public

Introduction: When Your Camera Is Also a Fashion Statement

Let’s be honest: most cameras are about as stylish as a pair of Crocs. The Voigtländer Bessa II? It’s the James Bond of folding cameras—sleek, suave, and guaranteed to make bystanders whisper, “What is that thing?”

This isn’t just a camera. It’s a mechanical origami masterpiece, a 6×9 film beast folded into something smaller than your Instagram ego. Want to shoot medium format without looking like you’re carrying a toaster oven? Meet the Bessa II: the camera that says, “I’m here to take photos… and steal your soul with my vintage charm.”

Design: “Is That a Camera or a Luxury Handbag?”

Specs:

  • Weight: 900g (or “lightweight” for something made of solid brass and existential dread).
  • Materials: Leather stitched by elves, metal forged by dwarves.
  • Party Trick: A collapsible leather handle that transforms from “sleek strip” to “I’m-ready-for-my-closeup-Mr.-DeMille” grip.

The Bessa II is what happens when Germans and Austrians collaborate on a steampunk project. Folded, it’s slimmer than a Leica M3 with a Summicron. Unfolded, it’s a bellows-powered time machine that screams, “I shoot film and own a monocle.”

Pro Tip: If your camera doesn’t double as a conversation starter, you’re doing life wrong.

The Unfolding Ritual: A Mechanical Ballet

Press the hidden button on the base. Click. The lens door pops open like a shy mollusk. Gently push the front standard forward. Snap. The bellows expand like a mechanical accordion. Suddenly, you’re holding a 6×9 monstrosity that makes your iPhone look like a Post-it note.

No other camera unfolds with this much drama. It’s like Indiana Jones swapping his whip for a tripod.

Voigtländer Bessa II

The Heliar Lens: Magic in a Brass Tube

Specs:

  • Focal Length: 105mm f/3.5 (the “Heliar” version, because obviously).
  • Bokeh: Creamier than a Viennese pastry. At f/4, backgrounds melt like butter in a sauna.

The Heliar lens isn’t just optics—it’s alchemy. Shoot portraits, and your subjects will ask, “Why do I look like a Renaissance painting?” (Answer: Because Voigtländer sold their souls to the devil for this glass.)

Alternatives:

  • Skopar version: For budget-conscious wizards.
  • Apo-Lanthar: Radioactive and ridiculously expensive. Perfect for Bond villains.

The Viewfinder: A Lesson in Humility

The Bessa II’s rangefinder is… quaint. Think “a yellow postage stamp viewed through a keyhole.” It’s dim, tiny, and about as user-friendly as a Rubik’s Cube. Glasses wearers? Good luck.

But here’s the hack: pre-focus before unfolding. Sneakily frame your subject, snap the bellows open, and fire. It’s like photography mixed with espionage.

Street Cred: When the Camera Becomes the Star

Take the Bessa II outdoors, and prepare for attention. Strangers will stop. Old men will reminisce about their “glory days.” Pigeons will pose.

Last week, a Beijing grandpa parked his bike to lecture me on his 1970s darkroom exploits. I got zero photos but gained a life coach.

Street Photography Rule #1: If your camera isn’t attracting more stares than your subjects, upgrade to something louder.

The “6×9 Problem”: Eight Shots, Infinite Patience

Fact: A 120 roll gives you 8 frames. That’s right—eight. In a world where iPhone users shoot 200 selfies before breakfast, the Bessa II is a zen master.

Each click costs $3 and 10 minutes of existential contemplation. Miss the shot? Too bad. The universe whispers, “Git gud, scrub.”

Pro Move: Unfold the Bessa II slowly. The theatrics buy you time to think, “Do I really want to photograph this?”

Bessa II vs. Fuji GF670: A Sibling Rivalry

The Fuji GF670 (aka “Voigtländer Bessa III”) is the Bessa II’s tech-savvy cousin. It’s lighter, has a brighter viewfinder, and won’t embarrass you at a startup meetup. But it’s also… sterile.

GF670 Pros:

  • Electronic shutter.
  • Sharp enough to cut reality.

GF670 Cons:

  • Lacks soul.
  • Makes you look like a dentist.

The Bessa II? It’s all analog swagger.

Final Verdict: For People Who Enjoy Difficulty

The Voigtländer Bessa II isn’t a camera. It’s a mechanical flex, a middle finger to convenience. It’s folding-unfolding ballet. It’s eight shots of deliberate genius. It’s the reason your Instagram followers think you’re a time traveler.

Is it practical? No.
Is it perfect? Absolutely not.
Is it the coolest folding camera ever made? Abso-freaking-lutely.

Rating: 5/5 stars (and 5/5 awkward public interactions).

Now go forth and unfold responsibly. Or just carry it as a purse. We don’t care. 📸✨

Voigtländer Bessa II
Voigtländer Bessa II
Voigtländer Bessa II
Voigtländer Bessa II
Voigtländer Bessa II
Voigtländer Bessa II
Voigtländer Bessa II

Rolleiflex 3.5 MX-EVS: A Twin-Lens Dream in Reverse（重复作废）

Introduction: A Camera That Waits

They say every Leica owner keeps a Rolleiflex at home, gathering dust like an old love letter. I’m no twin-lens fanatic, but I get it—there’s something about these square-eyed boxes that lingers. My Rolleiflex 3.5 MX-EVS isn’t the fanciest of its kind. It’s the last of the non-interchangeable focus screen models, a budget relic with no meter, picked up cheap from a forgotten shelf.

Design & Build: A Mechanical Poem

The MX-EVS sits heavy in your hands, a brick of German steel and glass from the early ’50s. It’s all manual, all mechanical—no bells, no whistles—just the way I like it, echoing the Leica M3’s stubborn simplicity. Early models wore white plastic like a shy debutante, but mine’s cloaked in black paint, chipped at the edges, whispering tales of a life before me. The Tessar lens, a 75mm f/3.5, stares up from its twin perch, unassuming yet precise. Rolleiflex moved to Zeiss and Schneider glass later, but this one? It’s raw, honest, built to last—like a typewriter that still clacks in a digital age.

Features: The Art of Less

This isn’t a camera that spoon-feeds you. No built-in meter means you’re on your own, guessing exposure like a drifter reading the sky. The film counter’s automatic, though—a small marvel that clicks with every frame of 120 film, a nod to German ingenuity. The waist-level viewfinder flips open like a secret hatch, revealing a world flipped left-to-right. It’s disorienting at first, a mirror to somewhere else, but that’s the charm—you’re not just shooting; you’re dreaming in reverse.

Performance: Street Shadows and Square Frames

I took the MX-EVS to the streets, chasing echoes of Robert Doisneau and Vivian Maier—masters who saw poetry in the mundane through a Rolleiflex. There’s a story from the ’50s: Henri Cartier-Bresson praised the Leica’s agility in one paper, and the next day, Doisneau countered with the Rolleiflex’s knack for candid grace. I see why. Peering down into that glowing square, reality bends—left becomes right, and time slows. The Tessar lens paints shallow depth and creamy bokeh, turning strangers into soft-edged legends.

But 120 film threw me off. Coming from 135, my “sunny 16” guesses overexposed half my rolls—bright blurs instead of crisp tales. It’s four times the size of 35mm, a beast to scan but a gift in detail. Portraits shine here—square compositions frame faces like old photographs in a family album. Still, I’ve sidelined it lately; my impatience doesn’t match its rhythm.

Pros & Cons: A Love with Limits

Pros:

  • Gorgeous square shots with dreamy bokeh—perfect for portraits.
  • Built like a tank, a survivor from 1951.
  • That flipped viewfinder—it’s a portal to another world.

Cons:

  • No meter means exposure’s a gamble (and I’m a lousy card player).
  • 120 film’s a learning curve—pricey and unforgiving.
  • Slow to shoot; it’s a thinker, not a sprinter.

Conclusion: A Letter to the Past

The Rolleiflex 3.5 MX-EVS isn’t for everyone. It’s not sleek like a Leica or loud like a Nikon. It’s a quiet companion, a twin-lens ghost that asks you to pause, to feel the weight of each click. I’ve got a Chinese Orient 120—a Tessar knockoff—that mimics it well enough, and the world’s full of Rolleiflex copies. But this one’s mine, a worn treasure I’ll keep, even if it mostly guards my shelf now.

Wenders might say every photo is a letter to someone gone. With this camera, I’m writing to the streets—Doisneau’s Paris, Maier’s Chicago—hoping the light answers back. Pick up a Doisneau book, let it sink in, and maybe you’ll see why I can’t let this Rolleiflex go.

Tech Specs:

  • Lens: 75mm f/3.5 Tessar (4 elements, 3 groups)
  • Shutter: Compur-Rapid, 1s to 1/500s
  • Film: 120 (12 shots per roll)
  • Weight: ~900g
Rolleiflex 3.5 mx-evs with kodak black & white films
Rolleiflex 3.5 mx-evs with kodak black & white films
Rolleiflex 3.5 mx-evs with kodak black & white films
Rolleiflex 3.5 mx-evs with kodak black & white films
Rolleiflex 3.5 mx-evs with kodak black & white films
Rolleiflex 3.5 mx-evs with kodak black & white films
Rolleiflex 3.5 mx-evs with kodak black & white films
rolleiflex 3.5 mx－evs black & white films
rolleiflex 3.5 mx－evs black & white films
rolleiflex 3.5 mx－evs black & white films
rolleiflex 3.5 mx－evs black & white films
rolleiflex 3.5 mx－evs black & white films
rolleiflex 3.5 mx－evs black & white films
rolleiflex 3.5 mx－evs black & white films
rolleiflex 3.5 mx－evs black & white films