When George Eastman resigned from his banking job in 1881 and decided to pursue photography, his family must have been disappointed. He was a rising star in the bank; and to give that up to become involved in the nascent camera industry must have seemed rather foolish. History shows that it was actually an excellent decision.
His first cameras featured dry plate backs which, although more convenient than wet plate photography, still required considerable effort to transport and process. But Eastman saw the future lay in roll film and in 1888 he launched the first Kodak camera.
For $25, you would receive the camera loaded with 100 shots on a roll film, and when you were done, you sent the camera back to Kodak for processing and loading of another film; and you paid $10 for that service.
In spite of the high price, sales were brisk, and Kodak released a number of different models in the next few years.
Meanwhile, over in Boston, the imaginatively named Boston Camera Company produced the Bulls-Eye camera (note to genuinej, blame Boston Camera for leaving out the apostrophe). This was the first camera in the world to use a paper backing on the film, on which was written the exposure numbers; and owners could read off the shot number through a little red window in the back of the camera.
Eastman saw that this was a feature that should be incorporated in all cameras, so he bought the Boston company and in 1896 Kodak announced its own Bulls-Eye camera. The 1896 model had a wooden frame and brass fittings and cost $8. Over the years there were variations on the camera, but the brass fittings were replaced with something that wasn’t brass; and an extremely basic version featuring the extensive use of cardboard was released in 1900 as The Brownie (price:$1), and sold a staggering 150,000 in the first year. Photography as a hobby for everyone (and Ansel Adams) had begun.
You can find the Bulls Eye on eBay, but most have very shabby cases (hardly surprising given the age), some have pieces missing or a non-functioning shutter, many are more recent models without the brass fittings.
A typical eBay offering:
I was lucky to find one that was complete, functioning and with a case that looked dirty and a bit faded in places, but salvageable.
So yesterday I set to work. First some warm water with a drop of detergent, applied with a toothbrush. Did not want to soak the covering so just did enough to remove the worst of the grime; and it was indeed very dirty. Don’t think it had been cleaned in 107 years. Next, with a different toothbrush (she who must be obeyed will never notice), I rubbed in some saddle soap (thank you Peter) which conditioned the leather(ette) and removed more grime. Finally, I rubbed in some black shoe creme to bring back the original colour.
Then I took Brasso to some of the brass bits. At a later time I will remove all the brass and treat and clean it properly; but yesterday’s polish was a start. The pegs supporting the handle were probably originally painted black; but as most of that had rubbed off, I decided to give them a shine.
There are three controls on the front of the camera. On the left is the shutter release. The middle bar is lifted up and down to set one of three apertures, and the right hand bar sets the shutter for a setting of about 1/60th second, or allows you to open the shutter with one stroke, and close it again with a second, for those long exposures which were more common in those day than they are now. There is also the film winder which connects to a brass ratcheted cog which will look wonderful once it is shiny again. Finally there is the viewfinder window which works but needs a deep clean if I can gain access to it.
Taking the internals out of the box reveals the very simple controls mechanisms, plus the wood and brass that makes up the rather elegant interior.
More detailed shots to come when I have cleaned everything.
The camera took 101 roll film, the first ever Kodak film, a size that they would continue to produce for another sixty years. I somehow doubt my camera would have survived sixty years of use, so it has probably been languishing in a cupboard for most of its life. Its an interesting piece of camera history, and yet another object to add to the list of things The Son won’t want to inherit once I kick the bucket.
I have plenty of saddle soap left; so what shall I get next….?
Comments 🔗
2013-09-16| Pete saysIt certainly scrubs up well!
2013-09-16| Kevin Moore saysThink I’ll book myself in with you Spike for a restoration session. Will need plenty of the black stuff for the hair that’s for sure. Perhaps a quick polish of the old brass bits and I could be a hansum man again. Don’t bother quoting the various service levels you provide just quote me for the full monty, I need it.
2013-09-17| Spike saysCan do; although I draw the line at hand polishing your apertures.
2013-09-17| Camberley saysI had something like this but left it on a newsagents shelf in York railway station in 1960. It doesn’t have my name on it by any chance?
2013-09-17| Spike saysInebriated again?
It has the initials GAW inscribed inside.
2013-09-17| Camberley saysI was only 10 and it was a school trip!
GAW is not me
2013-09-18| Barry saysI do declare that your loving care and attention with toothbrush and polish has probably enhanced the value of your camera by a magnitude of a lot. You could re-sell it, find another, repeat the process and become rich. If the price of toothbrushes and polish doesn’t attract a luxury goods tax sometime in the future.