14. The Dresden Connection

You've maybe read post 11, an epic overland trip from London to Istanbul, following the route of the 1913 Orient Express and recording our adventures with a WW1 camera. Perhaps you've also seen post 12, about taking a Bencini Comet 1950s camera back to Italy. A bit of a theme appears to be developing (no pun intended!) With Christmas fast approaching it seemed like a perfectly natural decision to flee the country, trot across Germany and head for Dresden, where the Christmas market is one of the most beautiful, traditional markets in Europe. A little advance research identified the Pentacon factory, a merger of several Dresden camera manufacturers. The iconic Ernemann Tower of the factory still stands and the building houses the Dresden Technical Collection, which includes a vast display of vintage cameras made in the city. Obviously I needed to go there!

A classic brand which came out of the Pentacon factory was Praktica, a staple of 1960-1980s production. When I discovered that the original leather case had an embossed logo of the Pentacon Tower, the decision was made; I had to take a Praktica to Dresden and photograph it next to the tower!

Sometimes the strangest coincidences occur and obtaining this camera proved to be one such coincidence. Earlier this year my mum passed away, shortly followed by my dad. It's been a tough year with lots of memories. Once such memory was the camera my dad used to have when I was growing up, a Praktica no less. I wasn't 100% positive, until I came across a photo of him carrying the distinctive shape of a Praktica. Wow!

A little more research identified a model I was interested in, mainly due to the proliferation of manual dials and settings. The LB2, a snappy little name if not terribly exciting, arrived in the post a few days later, in near mint condition.

Built like a tank, its almost solid steel construction makes it extremely heavy. It takes a 35mm cartridge film, ubiquitous by the mid 1970s and thankfully still easily obtained today. The main dial is actually just a simple light meter. You set the film speed (in this case ISO 200) and then twist the outer dial until the little needle lines up with the white circle in the window. The correct shutter speed on the outer black dial is now lined up with the corresponding aperture e.g. aperture 5.6 with shutter speed 125. So you set the camera up according to the light meter readings, the whole camera is entirely manual. Hopefully by the time you've done all this, the shot has not disappeared! It's all new to me, as my vintage cameras have so far been about guess work.

The first film through the camera gives disappointing results, most of the shots are over-exposed. Perhaps the light meter is not quite so accurate after all. But a walk around the lovely city of Bath, erring on the side of caution and shooting faster than the light meter suggested, produced a few pleasing images, when I remembered to adjust the settings...

One more practice film closer to home, taking the time to really concentrate on the camera settings, and I was ready for Dresden!

You can fly from London to Berlin or Prague and then take the train to Dresden. Or you can get up at the crack of dawn, take the early Eurostar (06:15) to Bruxelles Midi, change trains in Frankfurt and Leipzig, and still be in Dresden for dinner. We chose the second. Because we like trains.

A couple of days later, a cold, damp day in Dresden - what to do? Jump on a tram to the Practicon factory and climb the Ernemann Tower, obviousy!

Doesn't everyone do this?

Well clearly not, since we appeared to be the only visitors that day. We duly paid our 5 euros and headed for the first floor, where an enthusiastic guide showed us the extensive collection of vintage cameras and a short video of camera production in the 1960s.

It was quite surreal to be in this historical building, surrounded by examples of vintage cameras made under its roof. I was impressed that many of the original features such as wood panelling and ornate staircases had survived.

Eventually we found the Prakticas and had to take a photo of my LB2 next to its cousins, in the very factory where they were all made.

Following the museum trail we took the lift to the top floor and found a (closed) cafe. My curiosity led me to a door around the back of the cafe, where I discovered a narrow, spiral staircase.

Up the stairs we went onto a small landing, where an even smaller staircase led up again to the very top of the tower and a narrow walkway outside.

We took a 1970s camera, made in Eastern Germany behind the Iron Curtain, back to its home. We found the factory where it was made and climbed to the top of the iconic tower, looking down on the city of Dresden where the people who constructed this camera by hand must have lived.

So, how did the Praktica camera perform on this trip down memory lane?

I'd love to lie, and say it was superb, it produced the most fabulous photos.

But in truth, I don't know.

Because, for the first time in this journey of vintage photography, I messed up the film development. I failed to check the temperature of the developer and seriously underestimated the developing time. In addition, I failed to strain the reusable powdered developer, which left multiple marks of crystallised powder on the negatives. The results were...mostly very poor, with lack of detail and contrast. If I'd taken them with a pre-1900 box camera I'd have been delighted, but this camera can produce so much better, as you can see in my test shots at the beginning. Here are a few of the least dreadful ones, just to prove I didn't make this whole story up!