Here we go again… Another camera I’d never heard of that I see listed somewhere. I go do my homework and learn a little something about it. I become smitten. I buy one (or in this case four). But this time was a little different, since all the examples I bought were non-functional, and I hadn’t a clue who might be able to repair them, or at what cost. I was, as they say, headed down a rabbit hole. Thankfully, this story has a happy ending, but it did take some effort to get there.
The Back Story
I think it goes without saying at this point that when it comes to midcentury film cameras, I’m apparently a sucker. One is born every day, they say, and apparently I was born multiple times, as I’m a bigger sucker than most, and can only assume that it’s somehow additive.
This back story begins with a search on ShopGoodwill.com, the e-commerce platform used by many affiliated Goodwill charities across the United States. Once in awhile, when I think of it, I do searches for various film photography brand keywords, things like: Yashica, Mamiya, Zeiss Ikon, Graflex, Kodak Retina, and so forth. The platform is not particularly well-engineered, and final sale prices generally are quite high — above market value even — and while that’s good for the Goodwill charities selling stuff, I’m interested in bargains, and it’s not a great place to find them usually.
It was on one of those occasions, doing a search for Graflex, that I came across a listing that intrigued me greatly: a Graflex Graphic 35. I’d never heard of the model before, but a quick internet search unearthed all manner of things, including a rather in-depth article in the Graflex Journal, a periodic digital magazine posted at the Graflex enthusiast web site graflex.org.
After getting the first camera, I decided to attempt a repair myself. I’d previously disassembled a Zeiss Ikon Contina II (527/24), and after getting in over my head, had left it in a pile of parts. I’ll skip past the gruesome details, but suffice it to say, I was not successful in repairing this first Graphic 35 either. Despite finding some resources online, the jammed shutter proved beyond my capabilities.
In retrospect, I don’t think I made the situation worse; I now believe that the shutter was actually broken, not just in need of a cleaning. Regardless, what I ended-up with was another bag of disassembled camera parts, and a Prontor shutter assembly that was basically trash.
Not dissuaded, I purchased a second non-working Graphic 35, and eventually a third and a fourth, thinking that if I amassed enough parts cameras I might be able to salvage enough to cobble one together despite the fact I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. I also purchased a reprint of the Graphic 35 Service Manual from an eBay seller, after being unable to find a PDF copy online. (To the seller’s credit, the manual was nicely printed, comb bound, and worth the money.) I now had several cameras (or parts thereof), and a manual that informed skilled repair people (that’s not me, by the way) what they needed to know about how things were supposed to be assembled and adjusted. And off I went.
I’ve said before here that watching a video or two online, or reading a random web page, doesn’t make anyone an expert on anything, and that goes for camera repair as well. I can also tell you this:
- Unless you have a lot of free time on your hands;
- Unless you have (or are willing to buy) the specialized tools needed for the job;
- Unless you’re a very serious tinkerer;
- Unless you’re fairly mechanically inclined; and,
- Unless you’re a quick study…
…I can’t say that I would recommend attempting camera repair. Just saying.
I haven’t taken my own advice. I’m no camera repairman. I may have successfully repaired and restored five cameras (and counting) as I write this article, but I’m no camera repairman. I will be tackling more camera repairs, I find the work very satisfying, and I’m learning a ton about things I never think I’d need or want to learn — but I am no camera repairman.
After a considerable investment of time, and spending too much money buying specialized tools, and running around for things from solvents to special glues to special lubricant, in the end, I wound-up with three fully working, beautiful examples of the Graflex Graphic 35 — two with the f/3.5 lens, and one with the f/2.8 lens. The featured image at the top of this page, and the informal shot below, show just what an unusual but nevertheless beautiful camera this actually is.
Make no mistake; to get to this result, I’ve disassembled and reassembled Graphic 35 cameras, in whole or in part, somewhere in the general neighborhood of 100 times now. I’m not exaggerating. You put some section of the camera together, test it, figure out that what you had just done didn’t actually work, then you take it back apart, study some more, and try again.
As the shampoo bottle instructions say, “lather, rinse, repeat.” And repeat. And repeat. And repeat. I’m not a patient person; screwing around with camera repair as a non-expert is an exercise in learning patience. The fact that there are three working Graphic 35s in my collection instead of the carcasses of four of them sitting in a landfill is a testament to that.
Apart from the camera itself, I had the fun of reconditioning and repairing an original Graphic 35 case as well. (One more is awaiting my attention.) Leather work has never been my thing, but here too, I decided to just dive-in and learn. Waxed leather sewing thread and a few needles are not a big investment, and a basic saddle stitch is not rocket science. But with the supplies and a just-dive-in spirit, I’ve been able to repair several old camera cases at this point, and it’s just as satisfying as getting the cameras going again. The work can be a bit zen-like as well.
The Camera
Credit where due; virtually everything I know about this camera and its history comes from an article from 2016 Issue 3 of the Graflex Journal, written by Australian writer and photographer Michael Parker. Parker cites an earlier article extensively, and includes a lot of original Graflex material to support his narrative, and it makes for a very interesting read.
Parker’s article contradicts some of the information I’ve found elsewhere, which isn’t unusual when documenting the history of vintage cameras and the companies who made them. What is relatively clear is that the original Graphic 35 of the type I’m reviewing here was made for only a few years, and just 70,000 or so were manufactured in total. Manufacturing started in late 1954, the camera was introduced to the market in 1955, and production ended in either 1957 or 1958 depending on which source you want to believe.
The Graphic 35 was produced at a time when Graflex, as a company, was no longer at its apex. Their bread and butter — the Graphic press cameras — may still have been widely used by the time the Graphic 35 came out, but there’s little question that the use of press cameras in general was already in decline. Not long after the Graphic 35 came out, the company sold itself to General Precision Instrument, and under that company — and later, under Singer ownership — continued making cameras until the early 1970s before being shut down for good, and its tooling sold off to the highest bidder.
In any case, the Graphic 35 was an attempt to compete in a space that in the mid-1950s was fairly crowded. Simple rangefinder cameras — and even simpler viewfinder cameras — were a dime a dozen, it would seem. Voigtländer, Kodak, Argus, Ansco/Agfa, Zeiss Ikon, and many others made them, and features were generally pretty consistent.
Against that backdrop, Graflex tried to stand-out when designing the Graphic 35 with a couple of specific, unique features:
- Push-Button Focusing
One of the biggest selling points of the Graphic 35 was its push-button focusing. Pitched as easier to use, the problem was that it basically wasn’t. Novel, yes. Easier, no. I do find it sort of fun to use, but primarily because it’s unusual, not because it’s a better experience. Despite the very short travel of the buttons, I do find it relatively easy to get decent focus out of the camera. - Spectramatic Flash System
Flash photography was apparently popular in the 1950s, but using flash was as challenging then as it is now — unless you’re using a camera with fairly modern TTL flash metering with a compatible electronic flash unit that can deliver the amount of power needed for the situation, and that can automatically adjust its own exposure and power settings as needed. Those of course did not exist in the 1950s, and with a manual camera like the Graphic 35, along with old school flash bulbs, the calculations involved to get the right exposure practically required a math degree. (They’re a combination of flash bulb power, distance to the subject, and the usual tradeoff between aperture and shutter speed.) Spectramatic was an attempt to make all of that a ton easier. Using a system of color-coding, you could set the right exposure for the right situation and subject distance with relative ease. As the Graphic 35 evolved over its short run, Graflex twice improved the system to make it even broader.
I was actually pretty intrigued by the Spectramatic concept, and indeed, it is easy to understand and seems like it would make manual flash photography a good deal simpler. I’d love to try it out, but the problem is that the hot shoe on the Graphic 35 isn’t quite standard in design. Both its sizing and protruding center contact are designed for Graflex’s own old school bulb holder flash units, and I’m not aware of any method to adapt it to a modern, generic electronic flash unit like my Godox. It might be possible to retrofit a PC sync socket to the camera to get around that, but I prefer my cameras to remain original; as a result, the Spectramatic system, as cool as it sounds, will remain unused.
While these two features were interesting at the time the camera was made, the Graphic 35 suffers from some design decisions that were not exactly cutting-edge for the time, and others that were just… stupid:
- Knob Winding
By the mid-1950s, knob wind was fairly archaic; lever wind was well-established by this point, so the knob advance on the Graphic 35 was somewhat old-fashioned compared to its contemporaries. - Separate Manual Shutter Cocking
When this camera came out, it was increasingly unusual for one to require manual shutter cocking with a lever separate from the film advance; it was common before WWII, but after the war, it gradually became somewhat atypical. Alas, the Graphic 35 had film advance and shutter cocking that were completely decoupled. (In fairness, other comparatively low- to mid-market cameras did likewise; the Kodak Pony 135 had a manual shutter cocking lever — and knob wind too for that matter.) - Separate Viewfinder and Rangefinder
There likely wasn’t another rangefinder camera on offer by 1955 that had separate viewfinder and rangefinder windows. The Kodak Retina series, as one example, abandoned that approach before the war, but years later, the Graphic 35 had exactly this old school approach. Not only was the rangefinder window separate, but it used a split image design with two solid, conventional mirrors instead of a beam splitter like the Retinas, Agfa Super Silette, and others of the period. - Poor Frame Counter Design
I’m sure that the frame counters on these cameras worked acceptably when they were new, but the design is primitive at best, depending solely on friction between a plastic shaft and what appears to be a fiber washer that is sealed inside a riveted chamber, plus a spring to apply pressure. The washer can neither be cleaned, nor replaced, due to its placement. The counters at this point work occasionally — when the wind is blowing in the right direction and it’s an odd-numbered day and Venus is in Aries — or some other combination of things I’ve not been able to really discern. I log my shots with an app, so it doesn’t much matter to me personally; I just take images until the film no longer winds. But be aware of this age-driven shortcoming. - Other Irreparable Parts
In addition to portions of the frame counter being inaccessible for service, the interlock lever of the advance mechanism and its spring are permanently installed, and cannot be removed or replaced. So far, that’s not been an issue, but one of my cameras has a seriously corroded interlock spring, and if it ever gives way, the camera is effectively garbage (aside from its use as a parts camera for the other stuff inside).
The Michael Parker article mentioned above speculates on the possibilities around why the German Prontor-SVS shutter wasn’t more tightly integrated with the design of the Graphic 35, as it was on most cameras it appeared on. Personally, I have to believe it was a financial issue; if Graflex was struggling, it likely wouldn’t want to fund the development work or customizations needed by Gauthier, the German maker of the Prontor shutters. But whatever the cause, the shutter seems like a completely off-the-shelf assembly that was simply bolted to the front of the camera as-is with very little effort made to smooth any rough edges. The somewhat goofy bent-metal linkage between the shutter’s stock release lever and the camera’s release lever is one example of the inelegant (albeit creative) result.
But having completely disassembled the Graphic 35 multiple times now, and being quite familiar with its design and construction, I will say this: It’s a very spartan, very coarse, even rough design that reflects a certain distinctly American design ethos of the time. There is no elegance, little polish, and not a ton of precision. Compared to German-built cameras of the time I’m familiar with, notably Zeiss Ikon and Kodak’s German-designed and German-built Retinas, the Graphic 35 is almost comedic or cartoonish in design and construction in comparison.
And yet, there’s something distinct and decidedly cool about the Graphic 35. Its coarseness is part of its charm, and honestly, the simple design is what made it possible for yours truly to successfully pull the camera apart, fix it, and put it back together again. There’s just not that much to it. And the cast metal design has a tank-like quality to it that has the side benefit of adding heft to the otherwise somewhat diminutive proportions.
It’s a decent camera, a good one even, and when properly functioning, and properly aligned and calibrated (also somewhat clumsy and coarse), it’s capable of taking some amazing images. But to be honest, that’s perhaps more attributable to the Rodenstock optics and the Prontor shutter that together do the real work of image capture, than anything about the camera itself. The camera merely holds the film, lens and shutter in position, and provides a way to focus, and to advance the film when you snap a picture; in light of all this, it’s hard to give Graflex too much credit for the outcome.
Finally, a little buyer’s advice. If you’re intrigued enough to purchase a Graphic 35 — and I don’t blame you — bear in-mind that it will need a shutter service, a rangefinder cleaning, and a rangefinder adjustment. And that level of disassembly will address its other need: a focus adjustment. It will likely also need a general cosmetic cleaning, all five of the viewfinder windows cleaned and reglued into position, and very likely, the rangefinder mirrors will have to be reglued as well. Out of four cameras purchased, that list of to-do items has been resolute and consistent between all of them. I would strongly recommend that you attempt to find a camera repair person before you even buy one, unless, as I did, you want this to be your first foray into camera repair work. And if it is? Well, see above; I can’t really recommend it that strongly.
(Incidentally, a scanned copy of a really excellent copy of the owner’s manual for this camera is available in our Reference Library.)
The Experience
Focusing now on the use of the camera itself rather than the repairs that made my examples usable, I’ve developed a certain fondness for the Graphic 35 in my weeks of having, servicing and shooting them.
First, the camera feels nice in the hands. Some of the criticisms I’ve read online about these cameras would suggest others have a difference of opinion on that. It’s true that the push-button focusing system means it’s a true two-handed camera, but to securely hold any camera — strapped to your body or not — two hands is a must. It is, however, a different holding technique, but one you adapt to quickly, and it feels almost empowering in that you have a great deal of control.
The push-button focusing has a very limited amount of travel, and travel of the focus mechanism (usually a helical on the lens, obviously) is ultimately what provides focus accuracy in most cases. (It’s why I like the Zeiss lenses on my Hasselblad; they have an uncommonly wide throw, allowing razor-sharp focus to be achieve with ease.) Despite the limited travel of the mechanism on the Graphic 35, I find it relatively easy to nail the focus. You’re never going to confuse the Rodenstock optics on a Graphic 35 with the much larger and more modern ones on my Hassy, but the point is that nailing reasonably precise focus is not difficult despite the limited focus travel.
The weight of the Graphic 35 seems almost perfect to me. Yes, it’s heavy; it’s cast metal! But there’s a balance to it, and the shape looks handsome and feels good to hold.
Setting-up a shot is a little inconvenient for the reason I mentioned earlier: The Graphic 35 requires you to cock the shutter separately from the rest of the operation, and you’ll need to do that before you set-up your shot. Otherwise, you’ll find — as I do quite regularly — that you need to take the camera away from your face, cock the shutter, and start the composition and focusing all over again. I use a lot of cameras that require separate cocking, but it’s not often enough that it becomes habit. It’s just the price you pay, I suppose.
It’s ridiculous to even call this out, but as long as we’re talking about setting-up a shot, you will need a handheld exposure meter, a metering app on your smartphone, or you can use the Sunny 16 method to figure-out and set the aperture and shutter speed; there is no metering of any kind on-board the Graphic 35. Bear in-mind too that this camera has a maximum shutter speed of just 1/300th of a second, so it’s not a very suitable choice for fast films in broad daylight. Stick to ISO 100 films (or slower) for best results in outdoor shooting. And if you want shallow depth-of-field shots, go even slower on the film, or use a neutral density filter (if you can even find one for the camera’s tiny lens).
These cameras were made in two types: one with an f/2.8 lens, and one with an f/3.5 lens. Frankly, while people do tend to think of “faster” lenses as higher quality, I don’t find that much of a practical difference between the two versions; the extra two-thirds of a stop is so small as to be immaterial, and it was (in my opinion) primarily a marketing gimmick when the cameras were first sold, designed solely to leverage that perception of better optical quality. Don’t fall for it.
Another unusual characteristic of the Graphic 35 is the positioning and movement of the shutter release. It’s on the front of the camera to the photographer’s right, and it moves laterally, again toward the photographer’s right. It’s a unique action, but then, many cameras have weird release placement (see: Ihagee Exakta), so you just get used to it.
Winding the film, as I mentioned earlier on, is done with a knob, not a lever. And I can tell you from working on these cameras that it’s actually quite low-tech. I won’t bore you with the details, but let’s just say that it’s not the most precision design in the world, and there’s actually a lot that can go wrong since a very tiny little triangle of metal no bigger than 1.5mm on any side, sandwiched between two sprocketed gears driven by the movement of the passing film, is the only thing that catches a small interlock lever which in turn stops the advance at what should be the next shot. There’s also very little that can be adjusted apart from bending pieces of metal. Two of my Graphic 35s work fine, but the third has a tendency at the moment to over-space the frames at the start of a roll for reasons I don’t understand.
My advice on these cameras is never, ever be rough or heavy-handed with the film advance. So gently and slowly, and when it stops, don’t try to crank it farther “just to be sure.” It’s far too easy for the interlock to fall out of place and let you wind a wasted frame in the process.
Once your roll is shot, lift and twist the advance knob to unlock it, and then simply wind the other knob until the film is carried through, then remove it from the camera. Like many cameras of the era, the entire back and bottom comes off as a single unit, providing unrestricted access to the film cavity, and frees you from having to deal with a hinged door which always, always seems to be in the way of loading and unloading.
The Accessories
The owner’s manual for the Graphic 35 lists just a few accessories of note: several different flash bulb holders, three electronic flashes, a tripod, a case, a filter kit, and two so-called Proximeters. The Proximeters are something of general interest to me; they’re a close-up aux lens in either 1 or 2 diopter strengths, but with a unique design that places a rectangular magnifier in the viewfinder’s field-of-vision so that you can live-focus the close-up. It seems novel and interesting, and eventually I’ll find one at the right price and give it a try. (Various Agfa and Voigtländer cameras used something similar — perhaps even the very same, I don’t know — approach.)
At the moment, I have only the cases, two of them, and both have needed almost complete restitching and a lot of TLC with cleaners and conditioners. That said, they’re still worth having given the specific shape and size of the Graphic 35.
The Results
I’ve shot a few test rolls through my Graphic 35s so far, and that’s really all they’ve been — test shots. As a result, don’t expect anything particularly wild here. But as you can see, the cameras are capable of taking good quality shots when the focus is properly adjusted. Because of the design of these cameras, there are multiple, interrelated steps to doing all the necessary adjustments, and it can be difficult to really “nail” it. When I compare the process to (for example) focus calibration on a Zeiss Ikon Contina II, it’s far, far more involved on a Graphic 35. That’s in part because of the design of the push-button focusing, in part because the rangefinder has to be calibrated as well, and finally, it’s in part to do with the fact that close and long focus are adjusted separately and in a specific order. End-to-end, it can take a lot of time and effort to get it right.
The Specifications
From the owner’s manual, unmodified.
- 35mm Film: Standard 20 or 36 Exposure Cartridges, black and white or color. 1″x1-1/2″ (24x36mm) negatives size — 2×2 color slides.
- Push-Button Focusing: No twisting or twirling. Pressure on push buttons brings lens into correct focus.
- Coupled Rangefinder: Split field rangefinder coupled to lens actuated by push-button focusing.
- Visi-Ready Footage Scale: Indicates distance to subject. Focusing range 3′ to infinity. Indicates depth of field instantly. Color-coded guide for correct setting for indoor flash photography.
- 50mm Graflar f/2.8 or f/35 Lens: Color corrected and coated for more brilliant pictures.
- Filter Mount Diameter: 31.5mm. Accepts Graflex Series 5 lens shade and filter holder with Series 5 filters and close-up attachments, also Series 6 attachments with proper adapter ring.
- Full Range of Shutter Speeds: With Prontor SVS Shutter: B, 1, 1/2, 1/4, 1/8, 1/15, 1/30, 1/60, 1/125, 1/300.
- Full Synchronization Range: X at all speeds. M (Nos. 5 and 25) lamps at all speeds. M-2 lamps at speeds up to and including 1/50.
- Self-Timer: Can be engaged or disengaged before or after shutter is cocked.
- Red Dot Setting: Red 1/50 on shutter ring and red dot on diaphragm scale for basic outdoor color photography.**
- Double Exposure Prevention: Body release will not operate until shutter has been cocked and film wound.
- Cable Release Socket: Permits making intentional double exposures.
- Exposure Counter Dial: Tells how many exposures remain to be taken.
- Diecast All-Metal Construction — Diecast machined film channel.
- Positive Action Non-Scratching Pressure Plate.
- Flash Clip: Standard shoe* accepts Graflex flash PL or B-C.
- Optical Viewfinder: Direct optical eye-level type.
- Special Features: Back removable for convenient loading. Corrosion-proof finish — finest of any comparable cameras. Scuff-proof covering.
- Modern Design and Styling.
- Standard Tripod Bushing.
Footnotes
* The shoe is not standard as I mentioned in the text.
** Using the relatively slow color films of the time, and Kodachrome Daylight specifically. Not really useful these days.
