Nikkormat FTn
Nikons and Nikkormats
June 25, 2010 - 06:26 Filed in: Equipment
In this age of automation and instant digital gratification, it is hard to imagine anyone still using a purely mechanical camera, unless they have been lured into the Holga niche. Even among film aficionados, most ‘analog’ cameras use autoexposure or autofocus to help the photographer. There are a few of us who still prefer manual methods.
The Nikon F put Nikon on the map. Back in 1959 this camera was a less expensive alternative to the high precision German cameras, which were the ‘gold standard’ of the day. The Nikon featured interchangeable lenses, focusing screens, viewfinders, and even film backs. It did not have a built in light meter, but back in the 50’s most photographers distrusted integral light meters and preferred the more accurate dedicated light meters. The Nikons and Nikkormats later featured more accurate integral light meters and photographers began to appreciate their convenience.
The Nikon F was built like a brick and able to take the usual knocks and drops of professional photojournalism. The Nikkormat series cameras were the ‘poor man’s’ Nikon. They didn’t have all of the features of the Nikon F, but they did use the same interchangeable lenses and were often backup cameras for the working pro. Along with the build quality of a professional camera, it’s the optics that matter. For years, Nikons have been THE cameras to which others were judged.
It’s wonderful that these legendary machines have become so affordable since the rise in popularity of digital photography, but also sad that they are so ‘last century’. The images they produce are as excellent as they have always been, which brings me back to a time when photographers had to instinctively know the optimal combination of lens aperture, shutter speed, and focus for the film they were using, and a bit of luck helped.
‘Pre-Game’, found in the Baseball Gallery, won First Place, Best of Category, and Judge’s Choice at the Kitsap County Fair in 2008. It was shot with a Nikkormat FTn mounted with a 50mm f/1.4 Nikkor-P lens on Fomapan 200 film.
Go Nikon!
The Nikon F put Nikon on the map. Back in 1959 this camera was a less expensive alternative to the high precision German cameras, which were the ‘gold standard’ of the day. The Nikon featured interchangeable lenses, focusing screens, viewfinders, and even film backs. It did not have a built in light meter, but back in the 50’s most photographers distrusted integral light meters and preferred the more accurate dedicated light meters. The Nikons and Nikkormats later featured more accurate integral light meters and photographers began to appreciate their convenience.
The Nikon F was built like a brick and able to take the usual knocks and drops of professional photojournalism. The Nikkormat series cameras were the ‘poor man’s’ Nikon. They didn’t have all of the features of the Nikon F, but they did use the same interchangeable lenses and were often backup cameras for the working pro. Along with the build quality of a professional camera, it’s the optics that matter. For years, Nikons have been THE cameras to which others were judged.
It’s wonderful that these legendary machines have become so affordable since the rise in popularity of digital photography, but also sad that they are so ‘last century’. The images they produce are as excellent as they have always been, which brings me back to a time when photographers had to instinctively know the optimal combination of lens aperture, shutter speed, and focus for the film they were using, and a bit of luck helped.
‘Pre-Game’, found in the Baseball Gallery, won First Place, Best of Category, and Judge’s Choice at the Kitsap County Fair in 2008. It was shot with a Nikkormat FTn mounted with a 50mm f/1.4 Nikkor-P lens on Fomapan 200 film.
Go Nikon!
Aircraft Carrier
You may notice several photographs of ships and aircraft carriers in the ‘Military’ gallery. Bremerton hosts part of the Navy’s ‘mothball fleet’, also known as the Naval Inactive Ship Maintenance Facility at Puget Sound Naval Shipyard. It is home to the aircraft carriers USS Ranger (CV 61), USS Independence (CV 62), USS Constellation (CV 64) and, most recently, USS Kitty Hawk (CV 63). These ships have been decommissioned until they are needed again, dismantled for parts, or scrapped. Some ships are fortunate enough be at least aesthetically restored to become floating museums, like the USS Turner Joy in Bremerton or the USS Missouri in Pearl Harbor.
Over the years I have served on three of these majestic warships, the exception being the Hawk, which are moored only a few miles from my home. The light changes often in the Pacific Northwest. It can be raining one moment and sunny the next. The color and quality of this light striking the hulls of these magnificent vessels keeps bringing me back. Each time I visit, I imagine myself back on the 04 level as a ‘shooter watching aircraft streak away as they are catapulted into the dark night sky. I also remember a tragic early morning fire in November 1983 as one of Ranger’s main machinery rooms exploded into violent chaos. That morning was the first time that I had ever seen the interior of a ship’s main space, or what I could see of it. Filled with thick black smoke and backlit by the dull orange glow of burning fuel, the canvas jacket of a two and a half inch fire hose was my hand rail. I followed it down into the belly of a ship in agony to swing a brass fire nozzle at a raging fiery beast.
Color slides bring out the hues of grey and blue reflected on the water against the lights on the pier or the colors of the sun settling over Sinclair Inlet. In ‘Modern Maidenhead’, rain wears paint into long blue-grey streaks down the faded grey hull of Indy. ‘Connie’ contrasts a faded grey anchor with rusty highlights nestled into the contour of her bow against the equally worn hull of the Ranger. The red hues of the rusty anchor would have been lost in a monochrome image. Likewise, the red band of an oil boom stretched against Indy’s bow in ‘Tip of The Spear’ would have been nearly invisible in black and white.
Monochrome prints bring out the curvaceous lines that come together at the bow of a ship or the menacing rows of hooks in the concertina wire that deter unwelcome entry to the pier. The curve of an oil boom pushing against the bow of Indy gives angular contrast to the curve of the bow reflected against the water. Grey tones provide structure to an image that is less obvious in a color image. The radar domes, the square and angular protrusions that transition the Hawk’s wide flight deck to the slender curve of its hull at the water line, and the chains and power lines that traverse the ships and pier give ‘Islands’ an obvious industrial feel.
Over the years I have served on three of these majestic warships, the exception being the Hawk, which are moored only a few miles from my home. The light changes often in the Pacific Northwest. It can be raining one moment and sunny the next. The color and quality of this light striking the hulls of these magnificent vessels keeps bringing me back. Each time I visit, I imagine myself back on the 04 level as a ‘shooter watching aircraft streak away as they are catapulted into the dark night sky. I also remember a tragic early morning fire in November 1983 as one of Ranger’s main machinery rooms exploded into violent chaos. That morning was the first time that I had ever seen the interior of a ship’s main space, or what I could see of it. Filled with thick black smoke and backlit by the dull orange glow of burning fuel, the canvas jacket of a two and a half inch fire hose was my hand rail. I followed it down into the belly of a ship in agony to swing a brass fire nozzle at a raging fiery beast.
Color slides bring out the hues of grey and blue reflected on the water against the lights on the pier or the colors of the sun settling over Sinclair Inlet. In ‘Modern Maidenhead’, rain wears paint into long blue-grey streaks down the faded grey hull of Indy. ‘Connie’ contrasts a faded grey anchor with rusty highlights nestled into the contour of her bow against the equally worn hull of the Ranger. The red hues of the rusty anchor would have been lost in a monochrome image. Likewise, the red band of an oil boom stretched against Indy’s bow in ‘Tip of The Spear’ would have been nearly invisible in black and white.
Monochrome prints bring out the curvaceous lines that come together at the bow of a ship or the menacing rows of hooks in the concertina wire that deter unwelcome entry to the pier. The curve of an oil boom pushing against the bow of Indy gives angular contrast to the curve of the bow reflected against the water. Grey tones provide structure to an image that is less obvious in a color image. The radar domes, the square and angular protrusions that transition the Hawk’s wide flight deck to the slender curve of its hull at the water line, and the chains and power lines that traverse the ships and pier give ‘Islands’ an obvious industrial feel.
