Restoring a Houghton Triple Victo, Half-Plate Camera, from 1899

Restoring this view camera has been a bit of a challenge but I really enjoy using it to take photographs. You pull a rope to take the picture! But first, let me start at the beginning. After Restoring an Eastman View No. 1 from 1912, I got a message from one of the managers of a local camera shop, Pictureline. He told me I needed to come see what they just acquired from the widow of one of their long-time customers. He sent some pictures and I responded, telling him I thought the camera looked pretty fascinating. The weekend went by, then I got a message from the manager on Monday, stating I could buy the camera for a box of cookies. I drove down to the shop, bought a box of cookies from a local cookie bakery (although a different story this bakery makes magic cookies), and picked up the camera. The camera wasn't functional, but the shutter curtain moved when you pulled the rope. This was good enough for me. The widow had brought in a ton of interesting camera equipment, but this was the most interesting piece of all.

The Eastman View No. 1 was in good shape mechanically, but the wood was in terrible shape and many pieces had to be replaced. The wood on this Houghton Ensign series camera looked nearly new, but the mechanical parts were in poor condition.

The rubber parts were nearly petrified. The bulb connects to a bladder (shown below) which fits under a lever on the top of the lens. When the bulb was squeezed the bladder would inflate, lifting the lever to release the tension on the shutter curtain, taking a picture. The top of the lens looks like a steampunk piece. As much as I would like to find a new matching rubber bulb, a modern cable release would be preferred. Some of you might hate me for this, but I drilled and tapped the brass shutter release lever to make it easier to use.

It took a lot of searching online to date this camera. After using three different AI models (ChatGPT and Google AI couldn't correctly date it, but Claude finally did) and lots of photos of the camera, AI suggests the camera is from 1899. The second step was to remove the Thornton-Pickard roller-blind shutter from the lens, a C.P. Goerz Dagor Series III 180mm f/6.8, one of the most celebrated lenses in photographic history. "Dagor" stands for Doppel-Anastigmat Goerz, a symmetrical six-element design introduced in 1893. The serial number of this lens suggests it's from 1900-1905. Dagor lenses are still highly-regarded today by large-format photographers for their sharpness and rendering. The wire spring was damaged and had to be fixed. Replacement parts for a camera of this age aren't easy to find, so I made them myself. After re-rolling the shutter and testing the tension, things were looking pretty good. The string could be pulled, moving the shutter, but it would immediately return to its original position when released. When pulling the string two separate audible clicks should be felt. The rope snapped after a few pulls, so I replaced it with a pull cord from a set of window blinds, but not before cutting the tassel off the bottom of the old cord and attaching it to the new. After a bit of work the shutter was now functioning properly. The first click is designed to hold the curtain open for composing and focusing. The second click is to indicate a fully-cocked shutter.

I took the lens apart and cleaned it up so the aperture blades moved smoothly. When attaching the lens to the lens board, the wood on the side (near the Thornton-Pickard logo) split. I was able to repair this, but it looks like I still need to repair the bellows. You'll see some light leaks in the corners of my photos. My camera was almost ready to use.

I originally thought the film holders would fit a 5x7 sheet, but discovered this was a half-plate camera using 4¾ × 6½ inch (approximately 120 × 165 mm) sheets. The camera came with four film holders, each numbered and with brass hinged clips at the top to open the holder. The dark slides are permanently attached, unlocked by squeezing the handle and a spring together while pulling from the top. The dark slides don't separate from the holder, but instead have two fabric hinges allowing the slide to bend around the camera. These are much more difficult to load than modern film holders. In the dark you have to undo each brass hinge, open the holder like a book, unlock the hinged pressure plate by rotating two tiny levers, lift the septums out and slide the film in, then putting it back together. A couple of the holders had sheets of film in them. Who knows how old this film is? I used one of the sheets to fit Lego Duplo blocks around it on an art board, with a paper cutter attached. This way it was easy to slide 5x7 film into the cutter aligned with the edges of the two Legos, and make the cuts in the dark on each side, left side for the long edge, right side for the short edge, before loading the film into the holders.

To increase the shutter speed, a spindle is rotated on the top of the lens housing. This effectively advances the curtain in small increments, increasing the tension and making it move faster when released. The shutter speed indicator is on the bottom of the camera. A small needle rotates along a paper dial as you increase the speed. This paper was pretty worn, and while removing it, the paper crumbled into multiple pieces. I reassembled the paper upside down on the glass bed of my Epson V850 and scanned it set to original size at 3200 DPI. I opened this image in Photoshop and recreated the indicator. I then printed it, applied a clear lacquer finish, and installed it.

I was pretty pleased with my work at this point. The camera was now ready to use.

For testing I typically take new large format cameras to my favorite place on earth, the Teton mountains. However this camera is much older than my usual cameras, so I thought I should test it first. I bought some Kodak Tri-X film expired in 1986 on eBay. One of the pouches had been opened, with the other pouch still sealed in the box. I forget exactly where the film shipped from, but it was a coastal state. I cut and loaded a sheet into a holder and did the test shot below in the studio with even lighting. While some artists work hard with stippling to get this look, I didn't like it on my film. I live in a dry, desert climate. I'm guessing the moisture from the ocean entered the open pouch of film and caused the emulsion on the film to swell and partially lift from the plastic base. However I learned the shutter speeds are accurate and the lens is sharp.

Crop from the above image:

Satisfied with the results, I opened the other foil envelope of Tri-X expired in 1986 and loaded a few of the holders. The eBay listing claimed the film had been stored in the cold, so I had no reason to worry, right? The pictures in the Tetons didn't turn out. I was surprised how bad they were after the studio shot kind of worked. The consistent lighting in the studio worked much better. I took two sheets of film from the already-opened pouch on my trip, and they were so fogged I couldn't scan an image.

Not about to give up, I ordered some fresh Ilford FP4 Plus. While not in the Tetons anymore, I was able to use the camera with new film (don't pay attention to the light leak in the last photo).

Crop from the image above showing how sharp the lens is:

New Photo Book (Volume 3)

I just finished my third photo book and am excited to share it. This one is a little different than the previous two, as this book contains only film photos. Several years ago a friend, Tyler, invited me on a photo walk. We explored alleys and pathways in downtown Salt Lake City as we took photos. Some time went by before we were able to reconnect and now we rarely miss a weekend photo walk, even when it’s raining or snowing outside.

This book explores some of the film photos I’ve taken on these photo walks during the last three years. I typically bring 2-3 film cameras loaded with various films. It’s not uncommon to have someone come ask about the cameras when they realize they’re old film cameras. These pictures celebrate the people I’ve met on the walks, the stories they’ve shared, and the places new to me which beg for exploration.

The photo walks remind me of why I got into photography. These pictures are a passion project, not taken for a boss, professor, or client. I took them for me. Everyone needs a passion project, something creative, something they are excited about. Something personal, not for a supervisor, a teacher, or a customer.

The book was printed by Saal Digital. The cover is a thick acrylic plate wrapped in a black leatherette. The lay-flat pages are beautiful and the pages are printed on a silk photo paper.

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Restoring an Eastman View No. 1 from 1912

I recently met a photographer who specializes in wet plate portraits, cyanotypes, and silver gelatin printing. He uses a bunch of old cameras, much older than those in my collection. As I was telling him how I spent my last three weeks restoring a camera and how it wasn't perfect, he said something along the lines of how a restoration should never be perfect. If it is perfect, people won't believe it. An old, restored camera should have evidence of the restoration, giving it evidence of use, character, and life. I like this idea.

The Eastman View No. 1 is a beautiful camera made of mahogany for the top, and cherry wood for the beds. Here's the camera the day I picked it up. It came with a trunk full of wooden 5x7 film holders and two 8x10 holders. The set included an extension rail for the front standard and an extension rail for the rear standard, but no base bed for the camera. The wood slots under the rails were shattered and broken into many pieces so the camera couldn't even move on the rails.

I started by gluing and clamping the broken pieces together, then adding wood filler to the extensions.

It wasn't too long before it started to resemble a camera.

The leather handle on the top of the camera was missing, so I cut some leather and put some antique brass grommets in each end. In the second photo below you can see the serial number of the camera: 25.

I was missing several screws because there was no wood to hold them in place. A trip to the hardware store allowed me to find some antique brass screws which fit the camera.

 

At this point I was pretty happy with how the camera was looking. The bellows were light-tight. The standards were moving along the tracks and the rails were fitting in the slots in the extension. But I was still missing the base piece.

I purchased an extension with tracks on eBay for another large format camera and removed the tracks. Without knowing the dimension of the base I looked at a few images from an old Kodak catalog to see what it might have looked like. I also looked for online images of this camera, but couldn't find more than one site with some good images. I cut a piece of cherry wood, added a threaded insert to the center for tripod mounting, added slots for the rails and the track with a table saw, and then notched-out spots for two hinges.

The camera fits on the base perfectly, allowing the front extension to fold up against the front standard held in place by a brass lever. I bought some film and two additional (more modern) 8x10 film holders. The film was much easier to load into the plastic film holders compared to the ones made from wood.

The only thing left to do was to take some photos. I packed it up and drove to my favorite place, Teton National Park.

And finally, below are a few of the photos taken with the 1912 Eastman View No. 1, the Special Anistigmat 7.5 inch, and CatLABS 80ii.

This last image was taken during a storm. I stood as close as possible to the ground glass to protect it from the sand blowing in the air while the skin on the back of my legs was being sand-blasted off. The storm blew in some dramatic clouds and I only had minutes to capture this image before the storm moved on. The wind ended up breaking my Manfrotto tripod, but I'm happy with the image.