Edixa 16-S

Edixa 16-S

Before Kodak introduced the 110 cartridge format in 1972, one of the great issues of subminiature film cameras was the proprietary cassette: with the popularity of subminiature cameras emerging in Japan in the 1950s, it seems every manufacturer made their own film cassettes which were all incompatible with other manufacturers' cameras. Evidently, Kodak were aware of the subminiature market, and after the success of the drop-in 126 cartridge, Kodak entered–or subsumed–that market with the consumer-friendly 110 cartridge; with Kodak's reach, the 110 format forced a standard and most other subminiature camera formats slowly disappeared. 

There were some examples of cross-manufacturer compatibility, but this generally happened through the copying of cameras, most notably, the initial Kiev Vega cameras which were copies of the initial model of the Minolta 16 camera, although the Kiev camera soon diverged as it evolved. One rare example of what must have been active co-operation, the Rada 16 cassette was adopted by three different German manufacturers. Although some information online doesn't always agree, it appears that the Goldammer Goldeck 16 camera was first, in 1959, followed by the first Edixa 16 in 1960 and finally the Rollei 16 in 1963. 

One reason for picking up an Edixa 16 camera is that I already had a number of cassettes thanks to sourcing them for my Rollei 16. There was also the sense of still looking for the 'perfect' subminiature camera that would take 16mm film (if such a thing could be found). The Rollei 16 has some limitations, such as its automatic exposure, but the biggest restriction of the camera is its use of perforated film. This means that cut-down film cannot be used in the camera, and one is restricted to whatever emulsions are available in 16mm–restricted further to single-perforated unless one wants to have the perforations appear along one edge of the image. The Rollei 16 is also quite large for a subminiature camera; the image below comapares the Edixa 16-S to the Rollei 16.

Edixa 16-S (front) and Rollei 16 (viewfinder extended for use)

There are a number of different Edixa 16 models, as well as Franka and Alka-branded versions; I found an Edixa 16-S at a relatively low price online and it was one of the cameras I bought on something of a whim during the second year of the pandemic as a distraction, and one without much research, although the sources seem a little thin on detail. Comparisons to the Rollei 16 here feel apt–the cameras have a similar feel in some respects, not just from the use of the same cassette; with the optional lightmeter that attaches to the side of the camera, the Edixa 16 and Rollei 16 look more alike (my camera came without the meter). I had thought that Heinz Waaske might have been involved in both designs, as Waaske famously worked for Rollei on the Rollei 35, but he only joined Rollei two years after the Rollei 16 was introduced (Waaske also proposed a compact 35mm camera to Wirgin, no doubt thanks in part to his work on the Edixa 16; Wirgin passed on the concept, which Waaske then took to Rollei, who produced around 2 million Rollei 35 cameras).

Without the lightmeter, the Edixa 16 is just over 8cm wide, by 4cm deep and about 3cm high with the various buttons, dials and levers protruding from the top and botton. The Edixa 16-S appears to be the low-end of the range of Edixa 16 cameras, with some of the functionality of the other models absent. There is also an Edixa 16 S, a different model from the similarly named 16-S described here (the S on that camera is engraved below the name - S - like the other models, M, MB, U. The 16-S lacks the small wheel or lever located next to the exposure dial for use with flash. It has an unnamed 25mm f2.8 lens–most of the other models, although not all, have a circular lens surround which gives the name of the lens, supplied by Schneider-Kreuznach, Rodenstock or Schacht. According to Submin.com, the Edixa 16-S has a Rodenstock Trinar lens, although this is not marked.

Edixa 16-S top plate

On the top plate of the camera, almost in the centre, is the shutter release, threaded for a cable release. This is surrounded by a rotating collar which locks the release, marked by a red dot which turns from a 12 o'clock position (unlocked) to 2 o'clock (locked), matching two black dots on the inner ring. The focus dial is on the right of the camera's top plate and is marked in metres in black, and feet in red. The lens focuses from infinity down to 0.4 metres. This dial, and the exposure dial, has a small indent with a black dot to indicate the selected setting.

On the left is the exposure dial. On the Edixa 16-S, shutter speed and aperture are a coupled EV (exposure vaue) system with black numbers ranging 8-15; outside this, the apertures above are marked in red. This is not the first camera I've had with an EV system, but on the Edix 16-S there is no means to override the coupling. The exposure dial also lacks shutter speed information (the Edixa 16 M and MB do have markings for shutter speeds) but the coupling is simple: from EV 10-15, the shutter is set to 1/150th: this encompasses the whole range of apertures. EV 9 is 1/60th at f2.8, and EV 8 1/30th at f2.8. The dial on the 16-S does rotate to a position below EV; on other cameras, this is where there is a B setting, but on the 16-S this doesn't function as an unmarked B and is presumably the same setting as EV 8.

The exposure dial also has a ring to set ISO. Without the dedicated lightmeter that attaches to the Edixa, this ring simply functions as a reminder. Using my Edixa 16-S, I mostly relied on the 'sunny 16' rule, although the EV numbers work well with contemporary light meters that have LV/EV numbers that one can use without thinking about the precise aperture/shutter speed combinations. There is–to me at least–a faint echo of the top plate of the Edixa 16 cameras in Heinz Waaske's design of the front face of the the Rollei 35.

Edixa 16-S bottom plate

The underside of the camera is where both film advance lever and rewind crank are located, as well as the frame counter, which resets to 'A' when opened. This is marked with even numbers and intermediate dots up to 24 (film will keep advancing after the 24th frame, unlike the Rollei 16). Very mush like a 35mm camera, to rewind the film, there is a rewind button to depress, and the rewind crank flips up; the advance and rewind are very much like a 35mm camera of the time.

The viewfinder is of the bright albada type, with parallax marks for close subjects. The viewfinder is  not quite as good as that on the Rollei 16 but close–it is one of clearest subminiature viewfinders I've experienced (it's also worth mentioning that it's larger and clearer than a number of my 35mm and medium format viewfinders); the viewfinder does take up nearly one-third of the length of the camera body. On the end of the body by the viewfinder there's a large screw and two round hole to which the meter attache; on the other end is threaded socket which functions for a tripod or hand strap.

Edixa 16-S showing rear latch

On the back of the camera it a round wheel that turns to unlock the camera back, with a small Z and A to indicate the direction to turn it from locked and unlocked. The bottom plate removes entirely for loading, with a section of the back that includes the film's pressure plate. With the advance and rewind levers on the bottom plate, these all have linkages through to the film cassette and the take up spool. 

Edixa 16-S opened for loading

A unique aspect to the Edixa 16 camera is the take-up spool, which is removable: to load the camera, the take-up spool is taken out. It has a spring clip under which the end of a fresh roll of film is secured, and then both are dropped into the camera, both with different dimensions, which means that they can't be inserted the wrong way around. If the take-up spool is missing, the camera is unusable as there's no way for the film to be wound on. The take-up spool has two small holes in the top through which two tabs on a spindle in the body connects this to the advance lever. Closing the camera body after loading, if the two parts of the camera don't fit closely, it can be that attention needs to be given to the positions of the tabs and the corresponding advance crank on the camera bottom to match these up properly (as well as the small slot in the release catch needing to be lined up correctly).

Edixa 16 advance or take-up spool

The first roll of film that I put through the Edixa 16-S was a cut-down section of Ilford HP5 Plus, an offcut from making up 127 format rolls. I did use the sunny 16 rule when exposing this film. With the shutter speed at most exposure settings being 1/150th, it wasn't necessarily easy to make exposure calculations in my head as I shot, and I think the results rely on the fact that HP5 Plus has enough latitude to excuse a lack of precision in exposure.

Edixa 16-S with Ilford HP5 Plus

The results were promising: the unnamed lens performs well on the subminiature level, and the shot I was most pleased about was the image above, shot in the Tate Modern Turbine Hall, not the easiest lighting conditions to contend with when exposing. The images from the camera in this post are scanned from the negatives; printing in the darkroom from the negatives would no doubt give better results. I also shot some Kodak Imagelink film, an unperforated document film. I rated this film at either 20 or 25 ISO: the film is very tight in grain but has narrow latitude.

Edixa 16-S with Kodak Imagelink

With bright sunlight and deep shadows, the Imagelink film does not have the latitude to record information in both highlights and shadow areas, and so is better suited to overcast days when taking photographs outside. It is also particular in development, bearing in mind that using the film for pictorial purposes is not its intended use (I used a semi-stand development in Kodak HC-110 at dilution G, 1+119 from concentrate at 18 minutes at 20ºC, with agitation every 5 minutes).

There were two issues that emerged with my Edixa 16-S. I began to have overlapping frames on my negatives; I may have caused this by breaking the small pin which registers the film counter. I did this when trying to load the camera without a cassette inside a black bag–this was as I didn't have a cassette loaded, and I thought I could get a longer length of 16mm inside the camera without a cassette, but then caught the pin and bent it. When trying to bend this back into place it broke.

Edixa 16-S counter pin

This proved impossible to fix: I taped the two pieces together and fixed it back into the camera, but its spring was gone, which meant that the frame counter now keeps slipping back to the start position. The overlapping negative frames might be related to this.

Edixa 16-S with Kentmere Pan 400

I did find a workaround for this: when advancing the film, I found I was able to watch the rewind crank turn–like a manual 35mm camera–and if it didn't appear to be turning, or turning enough, I would take a blank frame and advance it again. It is one additional concern when using the camera.

Other than these issues, the Edixa 16-S is one of the better subminiature cameras I've used, partly due to its small size and how it feels in the hand–or handled in a coat pocket like a netsuke. Having used it for a few rolls, any of the more fully-featured Edixa 16 cameras would be preferable of course–the Edixa 16 M or MB models being the top of the range, and, using the dedicated lightmeter, although this makes the camera bigger, it would make exposure easier, although I'm used to using manual cameras with or without metering, so this isn't necessarily a great consideration when shooting. I hadn't used any conventional low ISO films with the camera, which might provide images with finer grain but better latitude than the Kodak Imagelink, something else to try, and would also show off the quality of the lens–which printing from the negatives in the darkroom would ultimately demonstrate.

Edixa 16-S with Ilford HP5 Plus

Edixa 16-S with Ilford HP5 Plus

Edixa 16-S with Kodak Imagelink

Edixa 16-S with Kodak Imagelink

 

Sources/further reading:
Edixa 16 cameras on Camera-Wiki.org
Heinz Waaske on Camera-Wiki.org 
Edixa 16 cameras on Submin.com

'Shadows and Projections'

In April I am showing a range of recent work in a one-person exhibition in Glasgow, ‘Shadows and Projections’. As well as photographs, this will also include paintings and drawings. The exhibition opens on 3rd April at The Art Space in Cass Art, 63-67 Queen Street G1 3EN and runs to the 18th April.

Fifteen Years On

 At previous points in the life of this blog coiniciding with the anniversary of its first post, I've used the occasion to take stock of the landscape of film based photography. The last such post, Ten Years On was more a reflection on trying to use the camera from that very first post–the Olympus Pen EE3–through the first year of hte pandemic only for it to develop a fault and the quality of the resulting photographs suffereing as a result. I haven't posted very much in recent years, partly to circumstances in life, wokring on the PhD which I finished in 2024, and for work and financial reasons simply taking fewer photographs than I had done habitually in the first ten years of this blog. Interesting things had been happening in film photography during the last five years, Harman producing a colour film, the expansion of Kentmere films into 120 format with a new speed point in the 200 ISO film; Orwo also brought out a colour film and a new 100 ISO black and white emulsion; Foma produced an ortho film in 35mm and 16mm, and black and white negative ciné films to augment their long-established R100 film; Ferrania also produced an ortho film (colour film of all types continued to get more expensive, of course). I haven't had the opportunity to actively explore these new films, whihc previously would have been ideal subjects for this blog–they still are, but without the novelty of trying them out when new, as I had done with a few films in the past. These often provided the most popular of the posts on this blog. On that, I thought it mght be worth sharing some statistics for this blog over its lifetime. The screenshot below shows the ten most visited posts over the fifteen years.

Of the film posts, Rollei RPX 25 and Foma Retropan 320 Soft were truly new when I wrote about them; Rollei RPX 400 (with its 100-speed version) was also relatively new and becoming more available in the UK. Fomapan 400 by contrast had been around for many years, and I'd used it in medium format a lot more than 35mm before I wrote the post; Ilford Pan 100 was not generally available in the UK, and I was told that it was being discontinued in favour of Kentmere Pan 100, similarly to the Ilford Pan 400/Kentmere Pan 400 (I suspected the addition of 'Pan' into the Kentmere name also seemed to be a deliberate decision to position these films as replacements). It's also instructive to see the camera posts which are the most popular: the post on the Canon AV-1 is in itself not very detailed about using the camera, but this does seem to have been useful for quite a number of visitors, and, I surmise, the fix for the camera being jammed that I walk through would seem to be a common problem (the procedure I used for the fix was based on one for the AE-1, similar, but different enough that it was worth properly documenting). The subminiature Rollei 16 camera does not seem to have much specific information about its use online, which probably accounts for the place of that in the list–the presence of the MPP is no doubt similar. For this small corner of the internet, and for what I have tried to do with this blog, is to give a full account of the cameras I have written about in use–as well as researching, I generally like to devote some time with any camera to get to know it before I write; the posts about different films are largely the same. At the time I began this blog, although I had always used film, I had returned to developing again after a few years of not doing so, and began to take this seriously as a process: as much as anything, this blog was a place to record whatever I was discovering for myself, and useful as a reference: and, if I was doing so, it seemed worthwhile to share my research and discoveries.
 

127 Day January 2026

Ikonta 520/18 with Kentmere Pan 400

For a many years on this blog, I've followed the 127 Days faithfully, until January 2024, which was the last time I observed one of these calendrical oddities. There are a number of reasons as to why I'd not taken photos on any of the three 127 Days since then, with perhaps a little regret, which applies in general to the Photo-Analogue blog itself. I resolved to shoot at least one roll on Janauary 27th this year, two weeks ago today. This turned out to be a working day, and in addition heavily overcast: I had anticipated needing a fast film for the day, and cut-down a couple of rolls of Kentmere Pan 400 to cover the possibility of less-than-ideal lighting conditions. I also chose the Baby Ikonta camera, with a full range of shutter speeds and a relatively fast lens in comparison to some of my other 127 cameras, more limited in that respect. With the cloud cover at the time of day I left the house in the morning, it wasn't fully light; at the other end of the working day it was after dark. The lens and shutter were sufficient to accommodate the former conditions; for the latter, on my way home, I found a few places to prop the camera and use the shutter's T setting for a few long exposures to use the roll of film. In between, I managed a handful of frames around the working day; if nothing else, it served as a reminder of the appeal of using the Baby Ikonta.

FAST

A12, Leytonstone, January 16th 2024

Two years ago I made a series of posts about my photographs of the M11 Link Road, posting on the dates on which I had taken the original pictures in 1993 and 1994, thirty years on, but with comparison photographs I had taken of the same locations twenty years later, already ten years old. I took new photographs then as well, but, apart from a set of pictures taken in August, I didn't post those at the time. I recently came across the scans of some of the negatives from 2024, mislaid through switching desktop computers. I had taken colour photographs in January 1994 (and in 2014; the post 'SQUIBB' compares these), so did the same in January 2024; the 16th of the month, the date I had taken the original pictures, was a Monday, a working day in 2024, which meant a detour to take the photographs before going to work, and, being January, the first photographs were taken just before sunrise. I got the handful of photographs I had wanted; the day before, I'd also taken a set as security, of the same locations as well as some in Wanstead which felt like too far in the wrong direction to shoot before work.

The image at the top of this post looks across the A12 (known as the M11 Link Road during its construction) towards the remaining sections of Dyers Hall Road, replicating one of the shots from 1994; in 2024, I also waited for a train to cross the railway bridge (the rebuilding of which–the green section–had been one of the first visible signs of the coming of the road), something I'd photographed in black and white a couple of weeks earlier in 1994 (the colour photograph from 1994 is first below).

 

The most striking images from January 1994 were those taken on Claremont Road; Claremont Road was almost entirely swallowed up by the new road, and now exists as a very short dead-end stub. A few new houses have been squeezed into the space between the houses and gardens on Grove Green Road and the A12 itself, with its characteristic yellow and red brick wall. In the previous post, I had reckoned that my position in the picture of the new houses would overlap with that of the partially demolished house from 1994 at the top of that post; see the pairing below. I think the short driveway in the middle of the picture from 2024 should roughly match up with the two doorways to the left of the photograph from 1994. 

 

What I didn't notice in 2014, when I took the photographs after a twenty year gap, is that there was a small section of the original houses on Claremont Road still surviving, like a remnant of Roman Wall sandwiched between contemporary buildings such as one might find in the City of London; I photographed this on the Sunday; the shot below (with detail) is taken to the left of that immediately above.

The rest of the photgraphs from Claremont Road are impossible to replicate: this would require levitating above the A12 (in August 2024, I used the strategy of taking some photographs across the A12 from the cemetary on the far side with a long lens, something that I didn't consider in January). The other photographs were from Colville Road, which lost all its houses on its eastern side, and a few facing these at the northern end, but was a little easier to replicate: after thirty years, the plane trees on the other side of the Central Line are still recognisable. My main difficulty in January 2024 was photographing into the rising sun above the wall of the A12 as below.

 

 

The other shot from Colville Road can be approximated; the 2014 photograph didn't take into account the fact that the road changes its angle at the northern end. Even taking this into consideration, the picture from 2024 should still be much closer to the contemporary wall (the graffiti on the gantry above the A12 gives this post its title).

 

The final two images from 1994 were taken from the footbridge over Eastern Avenue in Wanstead; as previously explained, I shot these in 2024 on the 15th rather than the 16th. The pairing of the first two shots below suggests that the footbridge was rebuilt slightly further down the slope over Eastern Avenue from that of 1994.

Unlike the photographs taken in 2014, I didn't attempt to use the same lens design for the photographs in 2024: these were all shot with the Canon A-1. I did use the same film, Kodak Gold 100 (however similar it may be the Kodak Gold 100 of thirty years ago); the positions for the photographs in 2024 was, in the main, closer to the original photographs taken in 2014, as much as can be achieved within the built environment as it currently exists between Leyton, Leytonstone and Wanstead. Although not replicating a photograph from 1994 (I regret not taking more photographs then), I took a photograph from the footbridge in Wanstead looking up the A12 to where it enters the George Green tunnel, site of some of the early and visible resistance to the road scheme–with the occupation of a 400-year old tree–as this was to go thanks to the use of cut and cover, a less expensive construction technique than tunneling itself.