My film camera buying spree appears to be continuing unabated, especially with my growing interest in midcentury rangefinders and other 135 cameras. One of my recent attempts to expand my collection was a particularly beautiful Zeiss Ikon “color dial” Contax IIIa, a truly iconic camera that many consider to be one of the finest cameras made in its era, if not one of the finest of any era. Unfortunately, the story didn’t end as well as I’d hoped. And while I don’t normally review cameras after just one roll of film shot and thus little operational experience, this review will, of necessity, be an exception for reasons that will become clear.
The Back Story
For quite awhile, I avoided midcentury cameras with a couple of notable exceptions (my Rolleiflex being one). But once I picked-up my Kodak Retina IIc, it all sort of cascaded from there. Browsing the ads in old issues of Popular Photography from the 1950s (via Google Books) didn’t really help much either.
It wasn’t long after I’d decided to place a Contax IIa or IIIa on my “wanted” list that one presented itself; in this case, a IIIa. This particular one appeared unexpectedly from Recycled Camera in Louisville, Colorado (you can find them in our Vendor Directory). The price was steeper than I would have liked, but the condition? Well, you just don’t often find pristine, working examples of cameras that are nearly 65 years old. But this one, which available information suggests was made in February 1956, appeared to be a truly beautiful example of this renowned and revered rangefinder camera. And according to the dealer, the camera had been tested, and was in fully working order.
In addition to the clean camera, it came with a decent condition leather “ever ready” case. The strap had broken at the connection point with the case, and it was slightly worse for wear, but I’d rather have the case take the abuse than the camera. Besides, I knew I’d be able to fix the strap by cutting it and putting-in a new rivet, and I also knew I could touch-up the case with some leather dye and polish (been there, done that). So, the Contax IIIa followed me home.
It’s always my custom to give a camera a thorough detailing, and the Contax was no exception. Despite its clean outward appearance, it still benefited from a detailing, and shed more dirt than I would have expected.
The camera itself needed no special work, apart from refilling the black paint on some dial engravings, which was straightforward and easy to do. The leather case cleaned-up nicely and came reasonably back to life with the dye touch-ups and some Pecard’s Leather Dressing.
The Camera
The next step was studying the owner’s manual, because let’s just be honest: The Contax IIIa is hardly complicated, but it’s different from any other camera that I’ve handled so far.
The entire bottom comes-off the camera to load film. And OK, so this is not new to me; the Rollei 35 does the same, as does the Zeiss Ikon Contaflex Super (a subject of a future review). But it’s still quite unusual as cameras go, really.
Loading the film is perhaps a bit more fiddly than most 135 cameras, and at times, it feels like you need three hands. The owner’s manual is quite prescriptive about exactly how to do it properly, down to how each hand is to be placed on the camera at each step — accompanied by very formally written midcentury English that’s actually a somewhat challenging read by today’s standards. Fiddly or not, it’s hardly difficult, and of course, conceptually, it’s no different from other 135 cameras.
The method includes removing the take-up spool from the camera body, then hooking the end of the film leader to spool in a way that’s clever — and secure. It’s hard to explain in words, but the end goes into a slotted area, where a small hook holds it by the sprocket hole. All of that is then placed into the body, where you hold the film down against the opening to the lens, and slide the back and bottom cover of the camera back in-place. Two twisting locks secure it in-place. You then fire the shutter and advance the film twice, followed by setting the exposure counter to 0 (zero). One more fire and advance, and you’re good to go.
The Contax is hardly unique in having a knob, rather than a lever, to advance the film — but I’ve not had many 35mm cameras with knobs (precisely one prior to this). The knob is rotated clockwise to advance the film, and it stops at the correct position. The exposure counter is on a small dial on the top of the knob, surrounding the shutter release.
With film loaded, it’s a simple matter to use it. Not only is it simple, but the Contax IIIa is a joy to use. To take a photo:
- Meter the scene with the on-board selenium cell meter (presuming the meter still functions properly). You use the upper-left knob on the top of the camera to align the meter needle (also on the top of the camera) to the diamond icon.
- Read the meter result from the scale on that knob. The possible aperture and shutter speed combinations are all shown there; choose what works for your shot.
- Dial-in the aperture and shutter speed you’ve chosen.
- Focus and compose. Focusing is done with the rangefinder, which on this camera was beautifully clear and bright.
- Snap the picture, and then wind the upper right knob clockwise until it’s stops.
Selenium cell meters deserve their own article here at some point, but if you’ve studied vintage cameras much, you know that the vast majority of them no longer work — or don’t work well. The meter on this particular camera was said to be functional, and my testing in indoor ambient daylight (against my Gossen Sixtomat) showed that it appeared to be.
Rangefinders probably deserve a little coverage here in the event that you are, as I was just one year ago, unfamiliar. The general idea is that there’s a small patch you can see in the viewfinder, overlaid on the overall image. The patch is either horizontally aligned — or not — with the underlying image. To focus, just move the focus ring on the lens until they are. It’s very difficult to photograph a rangefinder with the gear I have, but here’s an attempt to show it:
The focusing on the Contax IIIa is done with a small dial on the front, as seen in this top-down view:
Because your first finger on the right hand is in the general area anyway to press the shutter release, you can easily focus there. There’s a small “tongue” behind it; this is an unlock button. When the lens is at infinity — the position in which the camera would be stored in its case — it locks into place. You press downward on that tongue to release it for focusing. You can, incidentally, also focus from the focus ring on the camera, but it’s easiest using the dial.
Rewinding the film is also simple enough, and not wholly unlike any other 135 camera.
Of particular note with the Contax IIIa is its standard lens, a Carl Zeiss Sonnar 50mm f/1.5, which is a terrific piece of work. With 11 aperture blades, out-of-focus points of bright light in the bokehed background of your shot will be circular and true, instead of pentagon-shaped geometric forms that are either artful or distracting, depending on your point of view. This camera had the good fortune of wearing a genuine Zeiss Ikon UV filter on the front of its lens, and it’s quite clear that the filter has protected the front element for its entire life. As a result, the lens itself is crystal clear and free of any marks of any kind — a rare thing on a camera of this age. The filter itself does show some light evidence of “cleaning marks” — but let’s call them what they are: scratches.
Typical of most German-made cameras of the period, the Contax IIIa is a solidly built piece of precision equipment, and it’s heavy. Not too heavy or uncomfortably heavy, but heavy nevertheless — especially compared to more modern 35mm SLRs. To be specific, it weighs-in at just over a kilogram (2.25 lbs.) with its ever ready case. That’s quite a chunk of gear.
The Experience
It’s not difficult for me to fully understand and appreciate the appeal of the Zeiss Ikon Contax IIIa to many in the film community. To be certain, it’s a beautiful piece of equipment, and you rather immediately get the impression of quality when you use it. It’s like sitting in the driver’s seat of a luxury sedan or a sports car that costs a quarter of a million dollars; every detail is just so. Or, perhaps, the details that aren’t “just so” are easier somehow to overlook; surely the engineers and designers had a reason for every decision they made. But indeed, everything feels nice. Everything runs smoothly. And in the case of the Contax IIIa, it feels special just having it in my hands.
My particular example was stunning. With just two incidental scratches on the back, it was otherwise perfect, and even with the needed minor repair, the ever ready case was really nice as well. I was truly excited to have this camera in my collection.
Unfortunately, however, not everything ended-up as perfect as it initially seemed.
When I got the camera home, I immediately loaded some film. What was handiest was Fomapan 400 Action, a film I actually really love in medium format, and had wanted to try in 35mm anyway. So in it went — although it’s perhaps not an ideal film to test a camera’s performance, given its traditional formulation and grain qualities, which were only amplified by the choice of film speed. I did a couple of shots around the house, and rather quickly grew smitten with the camera.
Meter Troubles in Paradise
I’ve been lucky on another Zeiss Ikon camera: a Contaflex Super (New Style), which will be reviewed here in the future. That camera has a perfectly working selenium cell meter that is fully accurate in all lighting conditions — an usual beast to be honest — so I was hopeful that perhaps the luck would carry to the Contax IIIa.
As I said earlier, when I tested the camera’s meter in my living room with ambient daylight against my Gossen Sixtomat handheld meter, I discovered it to be perfectly dead-on accurate. But on my first trip outside the house with the camera, the readings I was getting I knew from experience were simply not right; I knew I was over-exposing. When I reached for my Gossen, I quickly confirmed my suspicions: the meter was reading about two stops too low. My heart sunk rather quickly, primarily because I’d started to regret the premium price I’d paid for the camera.
As I tried to figure-out whether to return the camera based on this fact alone, I worked to shoot the remainder of the roll.
When I got back home, I tested the meter again, assuming something had gone wrong merely by handling the camera. In my living room, it was still dead-on. The moment I pointed it toward a brightly sunlit scene, it was two stops low. I’d pretty well made-up my mind that this fact was a show-stopper; the only thing the IIIa offers that the IIa doesn’t is the meter, and if it doesn’t work, I might as well own a IIa.
That’s Not All
Unfortunately, the story didn’t end there. I finally got the remainder of the roll shot and processed. But the moment I pulled the film from the developing tank, I discovered that the camera had a far more serious problem — one with its shutter.
After referring back to the shot logging app on my iPhone, I immediately identified a pattern, and the problem: Shots taken at 1/1250 (the camera’s fastest speed) showed clearly that the shutter curtain wasn’t opening all the way; more than half the image was lost:
On shots at 1/500, it wasn’t opening completely either, although in that case, only a sliver of the top was lost. (You can see examples of that in “The Results” below.)
Complicated (and Expensive) to Make Right
While the vendor I used for the purchase of this camera allows returns with a full refund within 14 days of purchase, considering how much I’d already come to love this camera, I decided I would at least investigate its repair.
The Contax IIIa seems to fall into the same category as Hasselblads, many Leicas, and others that are revered, collectible, valuable — and seemingly only increasing in those metrics. That’s usually enough to motivate me to find a specialist camera tech who knows the cameras well enough to do it justice. A quick Google search turned-up Mark Hansen at zeissikonrolleirepair.com, and Henry Scherer at zeisscamera.com.
Judging solely by their web sites’ content, both of these gentlemen are characters, and both appear to have had some very bad experiences with customers over the years that have left them somewhat jaded and annoyed — and motivated to be extraordinarily clear about how they do business, and under what terms. (I can’t say as I blame them.) And in the interest of disclosure, I have not done business with either Hansen, or Scherer, and can’t vouch for their work. But both seem to have some deep experience with these cameras, and lengthy backlogs as well.
Scherer in particular was of interest, because he apparently is in possession of some of the few remaining selenium cells for these cameras, and if it was my intent to get the meter working, he seemed a natural choice. In writing to Scherer, he explained some of the issues in a speedy reply. He also made it very clear that he doesn’t do piecemeal, singular repair work (such a meter transplant). His only option is a complete, end-to-end overhaul of the entire camera and its lens — and the meter work could be done alongside that.
His e-mail message quoted a rate of US$595 for the overhaul of the camera, US$195 for the meter cell replacement, and an additional US$85 for the lens overhaul. In round figures then, the camera would cost roughly US$900 to make right, on top of the US$600 I paid for the camera itself. Moreover, Scherer said he has a “very long” backlog, and that I’d need to reserve a spot on that backlog to get the camera serviced. He didn’t define “very long” — but I took that to mean months, not weeks.
The grand total then? US$1,500 for a working, freshly overhauled Zeiss Ikon Contax IIIa that theoretically would last as long as I’m likely to last (if not longer). While that might actually be less expensive than a full Leica M4 or M4-2 outfit (another rangefinder I’m interested in), it is nevertheless quite an investment — especially for a 35mm camera.
In the end, I couldn’t justify the spend. I notified the seller of my intent to return the camera for a refund, and handed it back to them a week later.
Gone, But Not Forgotten
While the Contax IIIa has gone back to its seller and presumably will be repaired and sold again, I have to say that the camera has left an indelible impression on my camera memory.
As I described earlier on, everything on the IIIa is smooth and crisp: the dials, the aperture ring, the shutter operation — everything. There’s nothing clunky or out-of-place; it feels good in the hand, and the camera is easy on the eyes as well.
And while this particular camera needs some TLC, it nevertheless took some nice images, as you can see below.
For simplicity’s sake, I’ll keep this camera family on my wanted list — but I’m crossing-out the IIIa, and will focus instead of finding a decent IIa, forgoing any issues with a balky, aging meter.
The Results
Following are a few of the shots I captured in my short time with the Contax IIIa. All are shot with Fomapan 400 Action, as noted earlier in the article. Some of these were metered with the on-board selenium meter, and despite that, turned-out reasonably well. Others were metered (accurately) with my Gossen Sixtomat.
