Introduction
Exploring the Yorkshire countryside I stumbled across an antiques shop, and readers of this site will know I can’t resist an antiques shop. This one specialised in importing goods from France, and initially I was disappointed – not a camera in sight.
Finally, in a third floor loft, there it was….a shelf of those distinctive brown leather cases. Again though, I found myself disappointed, most of these cameras were visibly damp, mouldy and broken…how sad. I found just one salvageable camera, this lovely Bilora Bella 35-2.
And what an interesting camera it was, in a sea of lookalike viewfinder cameras this one was different, this one was special. A Bilora Bella 35-2, identifiable by it’s Rodenstock Trinar 45mm f/2.8 lens…fast for a 50’s triplet.
You can tell Bilora put a lot of effort into their design to differentiate themselves in the crowded viewfinder camera market of the late 1950s. Does it’s performance match the design? I’d soon find out.
Disclaimer: As you will know from my introduction to this site this will not be a technical or scientific review. Just my genuine impressions of the experience of shooting with this camera, how it makes me feel as a photographer and how it is to live with.
For a history of the Bilora Bella see: https://camera-wiki.org/wiki/Bilora_Bella
Appearance
I love the look of the Bella series of viewfinder cameras, they came in many versions covering a number of formats (120, 127 and what we have here…35mm).
They weren’t expensive cameras — the build quality is OK though. The really impressive thing is that, working with a very ordinary chrome and leatherette combination, Bilora made something very distinctive in the design.
Everything from the physical shape to the leatherette finish stands out as different, it catches the eye. This camera wouldn’t look out of place on a 1950s film set.
The top plate looks quite art deco to my eyes, with bold vertical lines running through the chrome and the “Bilora” logo proudly raised above the central viewfinder. To the right you have a simple but functional metal shutter button and the frame counter. The disk for the frame counter is exposed, rather than hidden under a window.
The front is equally bold, dominated by a chrome stepped lens surround and that large (for it’s class) central viewfinder and the film rewind know unusually set inside (rather than on top of) the chrome top plate. The leatherette is an unusual pattern too…I wouldn’t say I’m a fan but I do appreciate Bilora doing something outside of the ordinary here.
The back is more of the same with a near-flush film advance lever on the top chrome opposite the film rewind knob visible here too. The leatherette continues interrupted by a large black disk to open the back.
That release mechanism means the sides are uninterrupted….no hinges or releases in sight here. The base is equally straightforward with a mid mounted metal tripod socket and an offset metal button to release the film re-wind.
It’s neither light, nor noticeably heavy…it feels decent in the hand. Being a budget camera at the time, I think this is impressive from Bilora.
It may have been cheap but Bilora should be applauded for their design here. It goes to show low-cost doesn’t have to mean boring.
Controls
This Bella is quite straightforward, helped in no small part by it’s simplicity.. From front to back on the lens assembly you have…
- A focus ring. with a shorter than typical ~120degree throw. My example is 3.5ft to infinity with hard stops at each.
- A shutter speed ring. This turns with lovely solid “clicks” at each of the 4 options (Bulb, 1/25, 1/50, 1/200)
- An aperture selector which turns smoothly. I like that it’s on top for easy visibility and access.
The viewfinder is a pleasant surprise on this otherwise basic camera – it’s large, larger than on some more premium cameras, and includes nice frame-lines too.
The film advance and shutter button in the top plate are simple and functional, with a relatively solid mechanical feel.
And that’s it…no self-timer, no meter, no focus aid. Simple.
Loading and Unloading
In many ways this is a fairly typical 35mm viewfinder camera; load the film on the left under the rewind knob, insert the film leader through the spool ensuring the sprockets catch as well. Advance it a little, close the back and advance to the first frame. Everything is simple in theory.
In practice it can be a little more frustrating. Firstly, the seemingly simple task of getting the film canister in becomes an exercise in patience and persistence. The rewind knob does not move vertically, nor does the base plate. It seems as though the film physically will not fit when you first try. The solution, I eventually discovered, is to angle the film in to catch the rewind knob first and then try every single angle until it pushes in. Even with practice this took me far longer than is reasonable.
The other interesting feature is the back. It’s not hinged, rather it comes fully off. You push it into place flat, apply a little force, then turn the disk on the back anti-clockwise until it clicks. One minor benefit is that pushing the back on helps you ensure the film is flat and caught on the sprockets underneath but overall I wasn’t a fan.
Removing the back again is more tricky…requiring no fewer than 3 fingers to press a small release button above the disk while rotating the disk clockwise. Trying to do this while holding the camera body too proved almost impossible.
Once loaded reset the top mounted film counter to zero, or more specifically the green arrow just before zero, and you’re good to go. The dial to do so by the way, is even more difficult to use than that door – it’s a tiny metal control which requires fingernails to turn.
Once you’re done simply press the rewind-release button underneath and hold it while turning the re-wind knob on top. I’d prefer if the button locked like on some cameras but it works. Removing the film from it’s chamber is somehow much easier than getting it in…strange!
Because the Bella series began as roll‑film cameras, the 35mm conversion feels like a clever retrofit — functional, but occasionally awkward. In any case the whole experience of loading and unloading is a simple process made unnecessarily painful.
Shooting Experience
In contrast to the loading experience, once your film is setup the Bella works beautifully. The controls are simple and easy to use, it feels mechanical and (relative to it’s modest price point) robust in operation.
The usual caveats of not having a rangefinder/focus-aid or light-meter apply but if you’re happy to scale focus and meter on your phone then you have everything you need for fun manual photography here.
set shutter — set aperture — wind on — focus — compose — release — repeat.
This particular camera came with me on a holiday to Canada, and it never let me down…it worked flawlessly and, to my surprise, I enjoyed it almost as much as my Vito B. The advantage of the cheaper build is I was happy to throw the Bella camera in a bag or get it out in the elements without worrying too much, I just enjoyed taking photos.
Getting the photos back, I quite liked the softer more muted look for a bit of nostalgia too.
Gallery
Photos below taken with my Bilora Bella 35-2.
Reliability
Disclaimer: Every vintage camera is different, and the condition of my specific example will likely differ from yours.
As usual for a ’50s viewfinder camera reliability is helped by what isn’t here – no light-seals & no rangefinder to keep an eye on.
The cheap “vario” shutter probably isn’t exactly accurate after all those years but it’s simple (only 3 speeds) and should still work well enough with the right storage. Modern film stocks are a bit more forgiving anyway.
The frame counter on mine nearly worked, occasionally it didn’t count a frame so I took to keeping a tally on my phone. The camera was correctly advancing the film, I had no overlapping frames, so this was only a minor inconvenience. Something to watch if you pick one up.
Overall, as half-century old viewfinder cameras go, this one is good but not excellent.
Lenses
This Rodenstock-Trinar 45mm f/2.8 triplet can show decent sharpness in the mid-image, and even out towards the edges. The corners by contrast are noticeably soft, even in the f/8-f/11 sweet spot.
Unusually this lens seems to perform better at closer distances, I did wonder whether infinity was slightly off on my copy seeing the scans, always possible with vintage cameras. On the bright side flare resistance is surprisingly good.
On sunny days, at f8-f16 this lens does the job admirably considering its basic design. At 6×4 print sizes you won’t notice the softness. As importantly, to my eye this lens adds a lot of character to photos. Nostalgic, in a subtle way. We’re a long way from the punchy micro-contrast of more advanced designs, expect muted warm colours and a slightly more vintage aesthetic – it’s personal preference but this might be a pro as much as a con.
Who’s It For
- People who want an affordable manual camera with a fun design
- People who want a vintage camera that stands out
- People who want a lightweight snapshot camera for sunny day photography
Conclusion
I loved my time with the Bella, while it may not be as well put together as more premium cameras, stopped down photos are more than good enough, it looks very interesting and most of all it’s good fun.
There’s no getting around the little frustrations, like the awkward loading and short focus throw, but once you’re used to it’s “features” it works rather quite well.
Sometimes all you need is an ‘ordinary’ camera, with a design that’ll make you smile and a decent lens. If you like shooting manual and appreciate the design, the Bella is a good, if not quite great, camera for everyday photos.
Looking for other reviews, check them out here.
Ready to find your own forgotten camera, check out the guide.
Ready to get started learning manual photography, we’ve got a guide for that too.
Leave a Reply