6x17
This page is more of documentation of my experiences building my 6x17 camera and shooting with it. If you want to see the results of my efforts, check out the gallery.
As with many film photographers who shoot 6x17, I was introduced to the format by Nick Carver. When I first came across his videos around 2022, I was only just starting out shooting 35mm with my Nikkormat, so taking the leap to medium format was way out of the picture, let alone 6x17. I should probably try 645 or 6x7 first if I want to get into medium format.
So of course, when I got my 3D printer, I decided to print a 6x17 camera.
I got the files from Velvia's 6x17 design, and I modified the model a bit to use different screws to fit my specific lens. After watching a lot of Nick Carver's videos, I had a requirement that I wanted to be able to focus and compose using ground glass. Velvia's v8 design of the camera had a removable darkslide, but didn't have a back for the ground glass, so I modelled one myself. Fits onto the lens cone the same.
Speaking of, after some research I decided to purchase a Fujinon W 135mm f5.6 with the Copal shutter. I would've liked to have had the nicer Nikkor 135mm instead, but those cost about $200 more. However, the Fujinon I got is still beautiful and mechanically excellent. A couple months back, I bought a rickety Schneider 90mm f6.8 that had a barely functioning Compur shutter, and the difference between the two lenses is night and day. The mechanisms on the Copal shutter just feel so much better to operate. In fact, the Compur shutter has since stopped working altogether.
I chose 135mm because I figured that since my ideal focal length for everyday photography is 28mm, it would be easier to compose in a 28mm-equivalent focal length on the wide end, which is what 135mm is on 6x17. Also, wider angle lenses appear much dimmer on the ground glass compared to longer ones, which was a major contributing factor in my decision. For the most part, I'm quite happy with my decision but there are a lot of times where I wished I had gotten a 115mm or even a 90mm. The vertical focal length becomes about 70mm (in full frame) which is quite tight.
the consequences of building your own camera
Assuming you already have a lens with a shutter, the concept of building your own medium to large format camera is quite simple. All you need to do is build a light-tight box in the correct dimensions with a way to hold the film flat. However, I was greedy and wanted more features on my 3D printed camera, like composing on ground glass and the ability to change lenses. I mentioned that I printed the version of Velvia's camera with the darkslide and even made my own ground glass back, but I quickly found out that it was basically impossible to make it work. The darkslide was either too thin and loose for any sufficient ability to block light, or too thick to be able to practically move it in and out of the way. I ended up just scrapping the darkslide entirely and sealing the cavity with foam tape.
Being entirely 3D printed, the finish of the plastic was slightly reflective and I worried that it would cause some problems on the images. I bought a roll of gaffer tape to line the inside of the camera and lens cone. I didn't want to take any chances when each photo I would be taking costs around $10. This would eventually come to bite me in the ass.
Once I had all the kinks worked out, I decided to take it for a test by shooting the local pizzeria, a composition I had been eyeing for a while before I built the camera. I brought a roll of black and white film, cable release, tripod, and ground glass back just in case. That night was the first real time I would use the 6x17 camera, and about everything that could go wrong did.
Because I hadn't loaded the film in yet, I decided to compose with the ground glass for the first shot, so I swapped out the back and tried to find my composition. I should mention that my "ground glass" was actually just a thin piece of plastic meant to be used as the screen protector for my friend's handheld console business, and I could barely make out anything on it at night. I just swapped the backs again and used my phone to find the composition instead.
Then, I loaded the film and placed the camera back on the tripod. The camera mounts using an Arca Swiss dovetail printed directly onto the lens cone. It's a little awkward to mount, and the clamp on the tripod expects its own Arca Swiss plate, but I figured it would be fine since it was sturdy enough. So I stepped away from the camera, and out of the corner of my eye I saw it tip off the tripod head and crash onto the concrete. The lens and focusing helicoid were made out of metal, so they were much heavier compared to the rest of the plastic body. They were also mounted at the end of the lens cone which protrudes away from the main body. So, when it fell, the entire camera turned into a shuttlecock with the lens acting like the cork base. The brunt of the impact was taken by the uncovered lens.
Amazingly, the lens had a filter ring that acted as a metal hood, and the only damage to it was a slight dent. The helicoid also got chipped but it was only superficial. However, even though the camera landed lens side down, a chunk of the body broke off and I could see infill of the 3D printed plastic. Fortunately, that also appeared to be superficial since I could just tape it over with some gaffer tape and it would still be light tight and structurally sound.
After I had that mini heart attack, I finally decided to get to some actual shooting. I didn't have any major hiccups during the actual shooting process until the last photo. When I pressed on my shutter release, I didn't hear the usual click of the shutter firing. That was because the lens doesn't let you fire it when it was open. I found that out when I walked over to the front of the camera and instead of seeing the grey blades of the leaf shutter, I peered into the empty, dark hole through which I stared directly at my piece of film. It was like a 20 second exposure.
Okay, whatever. This was meant to be a test roll anyway, and I got some photos out of it. I wound the rest of the film onto the take-up spool and took it out of the body. The camera has a pretty primitive winding mechanism where I just turn a knob that keys into the divot on the spool, but there is otherwise no tensioning mechanism. Since this was my very first roll of medium format film that I was shooting, I did not realize just how important it is to not have slack in the film as you wind it up. When I took it out of the camera the film was very loosely wound, creating gaps between its layers that bulged outwards past the end caps of the spool. This is known as a fat roll, and I was staring right at the edges of the exposed film. At the time I didn't really know what to make of it, and I just held the exposed fat roll blankly in my hand for a while before deciding that I should probably put it away.
I didn't even bother to have that first roll scanned, only developed. This is what my lab had to say about it:
I have the physical negatives of this first roll, but I still have yet to scan them myself. From a quick glance at them though, the image quality doesn't seem that bad aside from the light leaks, and the last frame doesn't appear to be that affected by me leaving the shutter open.
I tried looking up some remedies on how to prevent fatrolling, and the majority of the results suggest that I send in my camera for servicing. Obviously, I cannot do that. The only real solution I have is to rewind the film until it's almost off the take-up spool, then wind it forward again, only this time I'm applying tension from the source spool knob so that there is zero slack. It's worked alright so far, but I still managed to fat roll again on a future roll. This time, I immediately placed it back in the camera and waited until I got in my bathroom to take it out. I saw the horrors of what a fat roll can do to a roll of film, so I wrapped it up in aluminum foil.
So far, shooting 6x17 has been a chore, especially while having to deal with the precariousness of my 3D printed camera, but I've enjoyed the results I've gotten so far. Or rather, the anticipation of the results after shooting.
the london trips
Some friends and I decided to rent a car to go to London, Ontario to explore the city and some other mundane locations around the area. One friend showed me this ethereal-looking mall in the city, and I knew I had to shoot it on 6x17. We arrived and started to scout for some compositions. I ended up really liking this one view from the third floor that captured the empty opulence of the mall beautifully.
I set up my gigantic camera and prepared to shoot the photo, but not before being stopped by security who told us that we couldn't shoot there unless we got permission from the mall. He directed us to the admin office, so we went there and asked the lady working there whether we'd be allowed to take pictures. She was initially hesitant, and said that usually we'd have to contact them well in advance and fill out a liability form, but she gave us permission to go shoot today anyway.
So I went back to the third floor and set back up my camera. After triple checking my settings, I pressed my shutter release cable and fired off the shot. Just from looking at the preview on my phone, I knew this photo was going to turn out beautifully on 6x17. We then packed up and decided to head out.
Later in the day we stopped at a restaurant in the middle of nowhere near the township of Lucan. We had a very good late lunch, but the main reason we stopped at this restaurant was because we thought it'd make a good photo location. In an otherwise boring, open field, lie these randomly scattered sheds and a gazebo. After searching a bit for a composition, I settled on one that nicely captures the surreal nature of these structures with a nice bit of symmetry. I like to use my Ricoh as a sort of light meter since I can preview the exposure using the settings I'd be using for the 6x17 shot.
After triple checking my settings again, I fired off another shot on the 6x17. As I was packing up I realized, to my horror, that I forgot to advance the film. I shot this shed photo on top of the picture I took of the mall, doubly exposing the film. I didn't really have time to process what I had done, so I just quickly set my camera back up, properly advanced the film, and shot the shed photo again. I went through the stages of denial, anger and bargaining on the car ride back to Waterloo. It was a pretty rough way to end the trip.
I wasn't going to let myself live this down, so a couple days later I rented another car and went back to London just to take that mall photo again. I pretty much knew exactly where I was going to go to take that picture and had my setup process drilled into my head, but I was still worried that security would shut me down again and I don't think the lady working in the admin office would let me shoot again. When I arrived at the mall, I basically made a beeline for the third floor and set up my camera. That was quick—but I had to wait a bit for the lighting to be just right, and also time my shot so that no one was in frame. The mall was pretty quiet during the weekdays, but there were just enough people walking through it that I would barely miss a chance to have no one in frame. The entire time, I was sweating bullets and looking out for any security that might catch me. Thankfully, I was able to eventually take the photo, and I booked it out of there.
maybe it's just not meant to be
I am writing this just after receiving the scans of the roll from that London trip. Was my second trip to London worth it?
Tragically, there are these super weird black strips that cover the edges of the image. Something must've been fatally wrong with my camera for these artifacts to appear on the image. If it's any consolation, I aimed my camera too high and wouldn't have been happy with how it turned out without the black strips anyway. The lighting on this second London trip was also not as good as the first one.
These black strips plague the rest of the photos from this roll. They're much more visible in these pictures.
I've never seen anything like this before. It can't be light leaks since these strips are pitch black, and it's not a film flatness issue either since the image itself is undisorted. I wanted to say that it was an issue with the shutter, where maybe certain leaves of the shutter are getting stuck and blocking the light. If that was the case, that truly would've been a catastrophic failure of the most expensive part of the camera. Maybe dropping my camera on the lens earlier finally took its toll on the shutter.
Well, I took off the lens cone and immediately saw the issue. I mentioned that in my pursuit to minimize reflections inside of the camera, I covered the interior of the camera with gaffer tape and that it would come to bite me later. It turns out that the adhesive of the tape is not actually that strong, and after weeks of being stuck on overhangs and curved surfaces, it started to peel off. The black strips I saw were the results of parts of the tape falling off and hanging in front of the film, casting sharp shadows on my exposures. I'm simultaneously relieved to know that there was actually nothing wrong with the shutter, and a little cheesed that my attempt to improve image quality ended up backfiring on me.
For completeness, here's that double exposure.
Do I go to London again? Third time's the charm?
taking off from here
Overall, despite all the issues and pain I've had shooting with this format and creating multi-hundred megapixel panoramics, this has still been a very fun and fulfilling experience. I never feel like I'm wasting any of my efforts or regretted any of the pictures I've taken. The only thing I can do with my experiences is to further develop better on-site procedures for shooting 6x17, and produce better photos.