The German Two Pounder

Note: Sorry for the late posting today, Folks. I was backing up files this morning to circumvent the cyber attack brigade. Curse 'em. Now back to the show... Normally we think of two pounders as a British gun, and are wary of them. In this case, the 990 g of the Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta 532/16 is a more peaceful item. We've got a retired example of it on the Stirling Street museum shelf. It deserves another day in the light. The camera was produced both pre and post-war. Apparently it was quite a broken work line - shutters, lenses, rangefinders, and bodies all were produced at different factories and then melded together in Stuttgart to finish up with the final product. It's a camera that produces 11 6 x 6 negatives from roll film. The 11, rather than conventional 12, was decided upon to eliminate frame overlapping. Wealthy amateurs who bought it would be willing to sacrifice one frame for 11 assured ones. Note the proper pressure plate that would press the film agains the gate as the rollers tightened the paper backing. That is a big area to keep in register when you consider that the film was unrolling from a small spool. Sufficient force was needed to bully it into place and keep it there.* The camera is all manual, but does many things automatically. Of course you determine your exposure by other means; hand-held meter, exposure table, experience, or advice from other amateurs. Your success would later be reflected in the negatives. The focusing was aided by a rangefinder from München. Turn the knurled wheel beside the left front standard and watch the superimposed image in the viewfinder. Set the aperture and speed on the shutter body and fire away. Advancing the film needed a firm grip on the chrome knob at the top right of the camera. Unfortunately the original item seems to have been lost and replaced with a slightly agricultural brass wheel with filed notches. It cries to be replaced... Advancing the film was easy, and you could depend upon automatic indexing or open the little red window at the back and look at the print on the paper backing. Finally when all was done, a press of the two chrome Zeiss Ikon levers at the sides of the bellows collapsed the entire assembly into itself for a very positive carriage. Modern digital cameras and their tinky little plastic covers are shameful compared to this 6 x 6. A camera to be proud of at the time and to be doubly so if one were to use it now. Mind you, the amount of explaining and arguing you'd have to do when you pulled it out in the photo scrum at the famous scenic spot would be wearing. The only people who would really understand and approve of you would be the Japanese tourists off the bus. They'd crowd around you and watch everything you did, finally applauding when the case was shut. Ask me how I know this... PS: Thanx to Ron Frank who collected this gem. It's not the only goodie in the museum... * Some makers failed - the 1970's Plaubel Makina was prone to let the paper-backed film out of register if you opened the bellows too fast.