This represents a turning point for Canon: their first professional grade camera, introduced in March of 1971 along with a new lens mount – the FD range.
The F-1 established it’s pro-credentials by offering a huge range of interchangeable parts – viewfinders, focusing screens, winders, backs – and a range of flash accessories. Also notable was the 1/2000s top shutter speed
A number of interesting technical solutions are seen with the F-1, including TTL metering achieved by locating the meter cell at the side of the focusing screen, where light was directed to it by a small mirror. This allowed metering to be independent of the finder attached, much simplifying things.
One of the most curious accessories was the Servo EE finder, a bulky finder made even bulkier by the battery pack it needed, holding 8 AA cells. This finder incorporated a servo motor – hence the name and the need for all the batteries – which mechanically connected to the shutter speed dial in order to change speed based on metered light and selected aperture.
This is a definite odd-ball, and example of creativity attempting to solve an engineering problem: how do you capture light coming through the lens for metering purposes?
The Canon answer was to use a pellicle mirror; one which allows about 2/3rds of the light to pass through, and diverts the remaining 1/3rd to a light sensor. The mirror is fixed, and remains down during exposure. The CDS meter cell is moved into the path of the light by pushing the self timer towards the lens barrel, which also causes the aperture to stop down.
In order to keep light from the viewfinder from influencing metering, there’s even a blind that covers the eyepiece – operated by a ring around the rewind knob.
There are disadvantages to this approach, primarily that there’s about a 1/3rd stop loss in light transmission. To compensate for this the Pellix was supplied with a 55mm f1.2 lens – the museum sample has the FL50mm f1.4.
Advantages are several however:
Less vibration due the absence of mirror slap
No viewfinder black-out during exposure, making tracking shots easier
The rear element of lenses can protrude further into the body, permitting a compact design
In 1972 Olympus introduced their OM line, and reset consumer expectations for the size and heft of a 35mm camera body. The various OM1/2 variants were very successful and so, in 1979, the OM10 was introduced at a more amateur friendly price point.
During the time when I studied photography at school – 1979-1981 – the OM10 was heavily advertised in the various photo rags of the time. Construction was a little less robust than the pro oriented single digit models (OM1 etc), but price was commensurately lower and it still accepted most of the OM line of accessories.
In standard configuration the OM10 is aperture priority only, much like the Pentax ME/MV, but a rather dinky little manual adaptor was offered – and which is fitted to this example. The manual adaptor allows the user to select the shutter speed when the primary dial is set to manual by way of a rather clumsy slide switch. It’s a very simple affair comprising of nothing more than a calibrated knob and a mini headphone jack. I strongly suspect it’s nothing more than a well calibrated variable resistance.
There are a couple of aspects of the OM line that are noteworthy, including the presence of depth of field preview built into the lens rather than the body. There’s a little tab on most OM lenses which sops down the aperture mechanism. While on the subject of OM lenses, it’s noteworthy that the aperture ring is at the front of the lens rather than at the rear – where almost every other maker put it. Personally I’m not a fan of this approach.
While smaller than the prevailing 35mm bodies when the OM line was launched in 1972, but the late ’70s Pentax had shown us what was possible with the ME line. The OM10 is bigger and feels crude by comparison – dials seem plasticky and finicky to operate compared to the ME derivatives.
The museum example seems to be in pretty decent working order – the battery is still operational, the shutter speed lights up in the viewfinder and the electronic self timer works. It even has the iconic Japanese Camera Inspection Institute quality control sticker intact 🙂
Essentially an Spotmatic F, the KM is what many feel the K1000 should have been. Introduced alongside the KX in 1975 as it’s less expensive sibling, the KM still offered a self timer and depth of field preview – both features that were thought to be omissions from the K1000. Interestingly, the depth of field preview lacks the lock-out feature found on the KX.
The meter is a little less sensitive than that in the KX, and the film speed range a little smaller. There’s no aperture window in the viewfinder, but there is the ability to record either the number of exposure or the type of film using a small wheel under the rewind knob.
As with the KX the KM was offered in both chrome and black, though I’ve never seen either in anything but chrome. They weren’t made for more than 2 years, and so there are relatively few still around. This one was pretty dirty when received, but has cleaned up somewhat.
1975 saw the introduction of the KX as the advanced-amateur model in the Pentax K series lineup, seen as one step up from the KM. As with all the K line, the body is essentially a bayonet mount development of the Spotmatic line, and physically very similar.
Metering is of the match needle variety, and the display shows both selected shutter speed and the speed required to achieve “correct” exposure. The pentaprism window looks out onto the aperture ring, so the selected value is also visible through the viewfinder.
As the advanced member of the lineup, the KX also offers mirror lockup, a self timer, depth of field preview (with a lock-out feature) and a switch for the light meter. It’s otherwise similar to the K1000 – the VW Beetle of film cameras – in that it’s pretty heavy, solid, and decidedly mechanical in use.
Surprisingly, given it’s decidedly amateur auto-only positioning, this MV1 was “rode hard and put away wet”. It’s one of the most used models in the museum, and was filthy when received. I’ve included it as an interesting reminder that even supposedly beginner friendly cameras can earn their keep through hard work.
Introduced in 1980, the MV1 is a little less basic than the MV it succeeded – it has a self timer for example, a memo holder, it can accept a data back and – as with this example – a winder. It’s still aperture priority only, with an electronic, focal plane metal shutter. It’s very clearly a member of the ME family, with the same almost implausibly compact body and featherlight controls.
It’s still very much a beginner friendly camera, and the shutter speed isn’t displayed in the finder. Interestingly there is exposure compensation, though it’s a little hidden beneath the rewind lever and requires good fingernails to operate.
Introduced in 1977, and produced until 1985, the MX represented the flagship of Pentax’s 35mm line. Unlike the ME and derivatives, it features a mechanically timed, cloth shutter. It’s smaller and lighter than the KX, which it succeeded, but other than the overall body form factor it shared little with the ME range. Only light metering required a battery, for example, and there were no automatic metering modes offered.
As the “professional” model in their line, the MX offered interchangeable focusing screens, a choice of data backs, a bulk film back, and both a winder and a motor drive. There’s a small window built into the finder pentaprism which peeks out at the aperture ring, and lets the shooter see it through the finder. It’s a solidly built, well crafted piece of jewelry.
Pentax introduced the MG in 1981, as the successor to the MV1 and in the line of simpler, automated, bodies going back through MV and ME of 1977.
The MG is aperture priority automatic, with no manual shutter speed other than the flash sync of 1/100th second. The metal focal plane shutter is electronically controlled – by and large photographers had overcome their initial hesitation about trusting electronics, and the increased accuracy and reliability of such a shutter was now well accepted.
Shutter speed is shown in the viewfinder, but the selected aperture is not. There’s a simple clockwork self-timer, and the hot shoe features an additional electrical contact for use with a dedicated Pentax flash unit.
Film loading is of the magic needle variety, and works well. The museum example is unique to me in that the protective film is still in place on the baseplate, and it was bought fitted with a genuine Pentax zoom – typically I find ebay cameras with some no-name zoom on them