The Problem with Plastic

L-R) FPP Debonair 120, Holga 120N, Kodak 
Brownie Hawkeye Flash, and Windsor

Plastic has been in the news a lot lately. It's hard not to be disturbed by photographs of plastic-surfaced ocean water pollution that immediately cause me to think about just how much cheap plastic we use once and throw away, thinking that it will simply dematerialize into nonexistence rather than end up in a landfill or, worse, a place of beauty and pleasure.

In no way do I mean to make light of the serious problem described above, but I have a cheap plastic problem of a different sort, and it involves - you guessed it - cheap plastic cameras. Now, admittedly, owning only four cheap plastic cameras may not sound like much of a problem to those of you who own a closet full of them, but perhaps you should remember when you only had four (and look at how you are now, buried in a sea of plastic.) It was only a few months ago when I had none, so perhaps this is a good time for intervention before it is too late.

The problem is that, even though I own much more intricate, useful, and expensive cameras with famous names we all know, I am somehow drawn to the lowly-but-charming cheap plastic box camera - the underdog of the photography world. "Hey, these guys can make great photographs, too! No, really!" And the truth is that actually, they can.

A member of the Chattanooga Pipe and Drum 
Band, captured with my Debonair 120

I started my cheap plastic camera collection with the Debonair 120 from the Film Photography Project, which shoots 120 film in 6x4.5 cm format. I like this camera a lot. It's great for portraits, because when it is focused at a close subject, the lens is sharper than what you would expect. I think it makes better quality photographs than the stalwart cheap plastic camera, the Holga 120N (which I acquired shortly after getting the Debonair. However, I like the Holga for the square 6x6 cm negatives and the strong vignette effect.

Weathered Barn. Holga 120N

Drip Sand Castle, Panama City Beach, Florida. Kodak
Brownie Hawkie Flash

With my plastic camera obsession now in full swing, I set my sights on a Kodak Brownie Hawkeye Flash camera, which is exactly the camera my parents bought when I was born. The camera is made from an early form of plastic called Bakelite, and it was so rugged a camera that it lasted into my teenage years before disappearing. I found an original version with the metal film winding knob, and it always gets noticed when I shoot with it.

At this point I thought I had all the plastic I needed, until I saw a slide at my family's recent reunion (see the previous post). In this slide, I and my twin brother, Kelley, are approximately eleven years old, and we standing next to our six year old younger brother, Michael. We are posed next to the tracks of one of Chattanooga's former railroad terminals. Michael and I are holding cameras - cheap plastic cameras with blue tops. (Note:  I have lost the digital version of this image, but as soon as I can make another one, I will update this post with it.)

As soon as the slide appeared on the screen, I knew that I had seen that camera recently at a Chattanooga antique store, so the next day, Debbie and I went and bought it for $18. It is called the Windsor, and it came with the original box, strap, and lens cap.

 

After some research, I learned that is was one of several Diana clones made in the 1960's by the Great Wall Plastic Factory of Hong Kong. It shoots small square images on 120 film, and someday I'll shoot a roll with it. Now my plastic cameras number four.

I've given it some thought, and I think my "obsession" with cheap plastic cameras has to do with having pure fun with photography, and also I think a lot about the challenge of trying to make quality images with less than quality equipment. Using a camera like these puts the emphasis on the seeing and not the thinking. Give one a try!