Funny how life is full of twists and turns. My father it
seems had an interest in photography. I knew from being a very small child back
in the 60’s he supposedly had a darkroom and cameras in earlier days. Nothing
was ever said about what happened to the dark room or the cameras. I just
presumed he had sold or traded them as needed during those tough lean years after
my birth. The only 2 cameras in the house, - an old box brownie (which I
actually got to use for 1 roll of film) and my mother’s camera, I can’t recall
ever seeing that one used. I think that
may have been a gift from my father. There were several large boxes of 4x6
glass negatives around too, something my father acquired from an old family
friend – the last UK member of that particular de Helsby line. He kept the best
plates to one side, the rest got Brillo pad wiped clean and the glass used for
various projects or even worse, disposable mixing bases for two part glues.
When really started in photography, back in the late 80’s I
started with a Zenit 12. Up to that point I’d really only used instamatic
types, the sort that took the mini film cartridges. My father and I were still on good terms at
that point but oddly I can’t recall any conversation about cameras, maybe he
mentioned darkrooms, maybe my mother repeated what she had said all those years
ago, I really can’t remember. It wasn’t unusual for my family not to say a lot
on things, they tended to try out a lot of hobbies and interests over the
years, then moved on, things became footnotes, not revisits.
My use of the Zenit
was severely restricted by cost of film and developing. I tended to limit use to my other hobby at
that time; I wrote for the Journal of the BKA and required images to match. When that camera failed, and I had moved on from
the BKA, my photography took a break. I
returned when digital started to become of useable quality and more
importantly, - affordable.
After moving here to Australia I met and talked to my father’s
first wife Maria. My elder half-sister had moved here many years earlier and
had sponsored her mother and her step father over as soon and she could. This meet
was an absolute revelation to me, all those blanks suddenly filled, all those
questions I had about his motivations answered.
I was concerned before the meet; I anticipated resentment, long held
annoyances and worse. What I found was a
woman generous of spirit, with fond memories, and warm welcome. In all the
conversations I have had with Maria, she has never said anything negative about
her first husband, my father. Nor has she voiced any criticism of my mother, a
person she has every right to resent. She
has explained my fathers repeated weakness for the opposite sex and his leaning
on her own father for money with deep sympathy and understanding.
My father died in 2006, two years after my move to Australia.
Over the years as sometimes happens in families fractures had occurred. By the
time we emigrated the relationship with my younger sister was already irreparably
gone. The relationship with my father had been increasingly difficult, that
with my mother well-nigh impossible, to the point where returning to England
during his last weeks as the cancer took him was out of the question.
To quote a minor sci-fi series:-“The road we walk is paved with the stones that scar our feet.”
I was absolutely over the moon to get the offer of this camera
from my elder sister a few weeks back, she thought it would mean most to me, a
link to my father I won’t be inheriting any other way.
This camera (a Kodak 1 Pocket folding 120, serial No 997544)
he gave to Maria in 1946, having bought it second hand. He had met Maria during
the war in Italy, returning there to collect her after his demob from the RAF
back in England. Apparently as he got to her house he called to her with a two
tone whistle, a signal they had often used. In his second marriage the same
whistle was used to herd up the kids, - myself and my younger sister when
needed. I’m absolutely positive it would never have been used had my own mother
ever known the history to it. I wonder what tugs and emotions he felt when
using it or hearing my mother whistle in the same way. Perhaps like giving a
camera to my own mother it was his way of recreating something he lost.
My elder sister tells me that our father had a little
darkroom set up with a black out curtain in an alcove off the hall in his
parent in laws house in Naples, Italy. This would have been prior to their move
to England. Perhaps this is why photography was not discussed; maybe it
actually harks back to his first marriage and as such would have been an
interest on his “avoid” topic list.
I do wish we could have shared a common interest, and wonder
if it may have reawakened the man and father I knew before his retirement
around 1992, now I can only wonder.
I’m sure this camera will work. I can still get 120 film and
the lenses have been cleaned. I’m not
absolutely convinced shutter speeds are correct but believe they will be close
enough to get an image. Bellows are light sealed I’m sure. There is a slight
lean in the lens plane relative to back plate so a little finger pressure may
be required to level out for shoot. I’ll meter off the digital camera or maybe
use my handheld light meter. I’ll try
with an ISO 50 film when I find some. I have downloaded the manual and no
mention of film speed in there for given settings. Presumably when the model
was new there wasn’t a choice.
