Shinya Arimoto was born in Osaka in 1971. He graduated from Osaka School of Visual Arts (whose faculty includes Daido Moriyama) in 1994. Since his graduation he held numerous exhibitions and since 2006 is a represented member of Totem Pole Photo Gallery. A solo exhibition titled 「ariphoto selection vol.1ã€is held at the gallery from 6-11 July 2010.
It is good to see that the trend towards high performance and presentably stylish camera continues as more and more people seem to appreciate this type of camera.
A quality camera case will make these high-tech, yet elegant looking cameras even more presentable and also protect them from external knocks while at the same time be smooth in the hands when using it. A detachable back cover protecting the LCD display is available as an option.
These camera cases handmade by an artisan, one by one, in the old center of Tokyo. Their quality and feel are extraordinary; “Perfume of REAL leather, high quality finish and stitching” writes one satisfied customer.
A unique feature of this case is that the strap attaches to the case, not to the camera as with most other cases. This case effectively cradles your valuable camera safely and gently, safeguarding your investment.
Advertising of the Zenza Bronica D in a magazine in September 1959 (æ˜å’Œ34å¹´9月) as “The Rolls-Royce of Cameras”
At around 1960, a man the Americans called “Mr. Zenza” came to the USA and had lunch with Burt Keppler, the former well-known publisher of Modern Photography and Popular Photography magazines in the United States and one of the most respected and influential figures in the history of the camera industry. Keppler, who passed away in 2008, was a driving force behind the success of the Japanese camera industry. Mr. Zenza was in America to sell his camera, the Zenza Bronica. It was to become a widely used camera family, not least by recording millions of weddings shot on medium format film.
Rewind.
A set of Bronica gas lighters
Zenzaburo Yoshino was born in 1911 as the third son of a prosperous rice dealer, which even at that time had over 150 employees. Yoshino initially continued his family’s rice business. However, in the aftermath of WW II and the resulting US occupational forces’ rice rationing and control over rice distribution he was keen to expand and diversify the business into new areas. Why he got interested in cameras is not clear, but he was known to enjoy a stroll over Ginza and looking at the various camera stores there. Being from a wealthy family he was certainly in a position to afford the expensive hobby of photography. Yoshino began to be known as a real camera mania, an obsessive photo enthusiast. He admired Victor Hasselblad, the Swedish inventor and photographer, known for developing the modular Hasselblad 6×6 cm medium format camera.
Bronica Shinkoudou Manufacturing Ltd in Kami-Itabashi in 1954
The actual birthplace of Bronica was an old Japanese-style building in Kami-Itabashi in Itabashi ward in northern Tokyo, a district known for its numerous small manufacturing operations. Zenzaburo Yoshino was a child of the Meiji era and was content with a modest and simple factory. It even served as a home for the Yoshino family, including their two children aged two at the time and a maid, on the first floor and the machinery, reception and delivery areas on the ground floor. The division of the house was not too dissimilar from his earlier experience of running the rice store.
Zenzaburo Yoshino’s business card from around 1952 with the Kami-Itabashi address
The accessory business blossomed and a large proportion of the company’s income was re-invested into the development of a camera. Yoshino was not a trained camera designer, but he had a dream and two common Japanese personality traits: persistency and tenacity. It took eight years to finalise the design and build the camera, which he named Zenza Bronica – the name being partly derived from his name Zenzaburo and the Japanese term for 120 medium format sized film, buroni (Brownie).
Originally that first camera that went on sale in 1959 was simply called Zenza Bronica and later renamed Zenza Bronica type D (Deluxe) and the follow on model type S (Standard). The Bronica D was the Japanese answer to the Hasselblad and in several ways outclassed the Swedish offerings.
It was a 6×6cm single-lens reflex camera similar to Hasselblad in design style and size, but this camera had various advantages over the original Hasselblad 1600F and 1000F with focal plane shutters:
the reflex mirror and aperture are returned to the original position after exposure
to allow intruding retro-focus lenses, the reflex mirror is not just flipped up but sliding down
very long exposures up to 10 seconds using self-timer
inserting a dark slide automatically detaches the back preventing accidental exposure
the film can be loaded fully automatically just as with the Rolleiflex without aligning the start mark
The Zenza Bronica Z
However, the Bronica D was not just a technical feat, it also was a very pleasing object to handle and showing Yoshino’s workshop’s experience in manufacturing fashion accessories. The chrome (actual stainless steel) elements and subtly curved lines gave it a delicate and precious appearance, not simply a metal box with a lens in front, despite the modular design. More information and pictures on Cameraquest.
The following Bronica Z and successor Bronicas, using large-coverage, high-quality Nikkor lenses, became instant successes. Bronica later introduced lenses of its own manufacture with its later camera designs.
Zenza Bronica Ltd. was eventually acquired by the lens manufacturer Tamron in 1998. Zenzaburo Yoshino died in 1988. As a response to the digital revolution Tamron discontinued the brand’s single-lens reflex models (SQ, ETR and GS) in October 2004. Bronica’s last model, the RF645 rangefinder camera, was discontinued in October 2005 and Tamron announced the termination of the Bronica brand and medium format cameras.
Maintainance of Zenza Bronica cameras: The son of Zenzaburo Yoshino established a company named “1st Technical Service”. They have many genuine Bronica parts. Electronical circuits also stocked. No parts for type D and type S. Tel +81-3-5390-2833 (Japan) [Note: not verified whether this still exists]
Tamron are still providing parts and service to the more recent Bronica medium format cameras. In case you need help, please take advantage of our Camera Parts & Repair Service.
The cherry blossom season is just over in Japan and all that can now be seen is petals on paths and waterways, which creates a more contemplative atmosphere than the euphoric blossoming. This Cover Photo by Toshio Enomoto, taken from the series Sakura, shows such a scene.
Upon arranging for this photograph, Enomoto-san wrote to us from Amsterdam, where he attended the opening of his first solo exhibition outside of Japan. He also informed us that the series Sakura had been purchased by Huis Marseille Foundation of Photography in the Netherlands. Congratulations!
We are pleased to announce an addition of a Ricoh GXR version to our popular range of hand-made leather camera cases. The Ricoh GXR is yet another stylish and high-performing camera, similar to the Olympus E-P1/2 and the Panasonic Lumix GF-1. The GXR takes the concept of exchangeable lenses one step further by incorporating exchangeable sensors! A quality camera case will make this high-tech, yet elegant looking camera even more presentable and also protect this valuable camera from external knocks while at the same time be smooth in the hands when using it. A detachable back cover protecting the LCD display is available as an option.
These camera cases handmade by an artisan, one by one, in the old center of Tokyo. Their quality and feel are extraordinary; “Perfume of REAL leather, high quality finish and stitching” writes one satisfied customer.
A unique feature of this case is that the strap attaches to the case, not to the camera as with most other cases. This case effectively cradles your GXR safely and gently, safeguarding your investment.
Many enthusiasts or amateurs in Japan are known not to skimp in their approach to their chosen activity. Equipment, training, facilities and dedication should be on the highest level. This is why you see so many high end cameras in the hands of average-looking 50 or 60 year olds. Not to mention the ubiquity of second hand stores for photography, golf or other equipment.
The other day we went for a casual family bowling. The center was full of people having a good time, and all lanes in use. When we had finished our game, a quiet but somehow unusual looking older gentleman took over our lane. He was dressed in light, sportive clothing and pulled a small bag on coasters behind him. It contained his personal bowling balls.
He then punched some code into the console and his name and data came up automatically. He proceeded with some warmup and stretching excercises. It certainly stood out between all the other people, shouting and laughing, enjoying the game with a beer.
I was getting more and more curious about him. Our man sat down and carefully bandaged his hand, then proceeded to layer three or four different types of glove on the hand. It was a real ceremony, even amusing to the point of making fun of him. Naturally I was dying to see him perform, expecting some spectacle.
So he went ahead and… well, it was by no means spectacular, but there was something noticeably different in the way he did it. Our man eventually cleared all ten pins, and just a short while after that the same occurred on the neighbouring lane of beer drinkers. Why all the fuss?
Only later I saw some striking parallels to those of us engaged in photography. Here are several observations, which I encourage you to add to in case you wish:
Like bowling, photography can be enjoyed greatly by anyone, even without giving it much practice and thought. You may strike luck, easily and frequently enough to make it an engaging and rewarding experience.
A serious practitioner will stand out as strange or amusing while performing with much more rigour what others do casually.
Outsiders don’t see the need to put that much thought and resources towards the activity, when you can achieve results with standard equipment or average technique. You might be seen as wasting your money, or just complicating your life with something trivial.
When observed informally side-by-side, the serious practitioner’s results do not seem to stand out as obviously better or more successful, much less justifying the “fuss” and investment. However, most certainly over longer periods the rigourous performer will exceed the casual player’s results, and should consistently do so under a greater variety of circumstances.
The serious performer will in some way or another be aware of “best practice” or the work of others that came before him. He will therefore train and practice according to a common school of thought and will therefore connect to like-minded individuals, even though he may never meet them face to face.
It is primarily a mind game. Displaying your routines in public may embarrass you initially but if you do not develop the self-confidence so it won’t matter to you, you will never reach your full potential.
At the right time, investing in equipment or technique, even if they are beyond your current level of performance is (amongst other things, there are various caveats) a symbolic commitment to the level of performance you are striving for. You are in a way materially affirming your level of ambition. You know that after investing into the best, that what remains holding you back is within yourself.
Once you have mastered a basic level of skill, you will feel increasingly confident to let go mentally and become truly creative. Like in the martial arts, once you have reached the highest attainable level of technique, you will find yourself at the starting point of leveraging what you bring to the game as a person and the mind training begins. That path will not have an end.
I feel rather grateful for my encounter with the lone bowler.
Kazuhito Shibue was born in 1960 in Kobe, Hyogo prefecture and grew up in Kurashiki (Hiroshima). He worked as a magazine editor, followed by a photo studio until eventually becoming a professional photographer himself.
In his introduction Thick Clouds, Curl Up and Sleep to the current show at Gallery E&M (until 18 Apr 2010) he writes:
In 1993, when the bubble economy in Japan was about to burst, I could not figure out the relation between my professionally taken photos and my personal photos and decided to leave Japan.
There was no specific reason for this choice, but I went to Paris and ended up in the 18th Arrondissement where the cost of living is not very high. It is an area where many immigrants live and rather chaotic, reminiscent of cities in Asia.
I did not take any photos but just walked around Paris for 10-20 kilometers a day. During the second year I walked towards the outskirts of town, returning at night. At that time there were still old cars driving, and sometimes a tire would come off a passing car and to avoid it I had to jump on a narrow path filled with dog turds. I saw many old buildings being demolished at the same time. This was the flow of time in front of me. Some things have gone, others disappear and what remains?
Paris and my photography dilemma existed side by side, irrelevant to each other.