I Dreamed of Bronica

You’re supposed to be here. Make no mistake, dear reader, you’ve staggered into the correct room.

This is indeed a camera review. Yet, like Cysaphus, we must begin at the bottom.

You need to know how the Big Bronica came to me. You need to see the places we’ve been and why I love her. This tale is told through tear-heavy eyes and in the end we will weep together over the reasons why this beloved camera and I might well part company.

My heart bleeds out a wretched confliction upon these keys and my soul hemorrhages with a shock of savage realization. The estimable Zenza-Bronica GS-1; my 6x7 beauty; my first medium format film camera; the camera I literally dreamed of owning…could I truly consider letting the Big Bronica go?

Curves for days. Healthy. Plenty to hold onto and plenty to love. The Bronica GS-1 splits the proverbial schism on all fronts. Bigger-boned and less expensive (greatly) than a Hasselblad 500CM; more compact with fewer moving parts than a Mamyia RZ67. The Bronica GS-1 is the quiet hero of the wide-negative medium format world.

A Brief and Convoluted History

It’s not widely known that the GS-1 was technically manufactured by Tamron — yes, that Tamron…the lens one— after the Zenza-Bronica brand was acquired by that company in 1998. Even the original Zenza-Bronica, officially founded in 1959, was the transitory evolution of a business entity known as Shinkodo Works: a Japanese maker of personal accessories and luxury goods. Shinkodo Works, and later Zenza-Bronica, was the brainchild of Zenzaburō Yoshino (Japanese: 吉野善三郎).

The first generation of Zenza-Bronica cameras was born in 1959 in the visage the Bronica Z. I can’t quite place what it looks like….

Leave Zenza-Bronica alone to stew for about 24 years and we arrive at the Bronica GS-1 — my GS-1. The Big Bronica herself. Tamron coughed out these 6x7 beauties from 1983 all the way to 2002. Mine happens to be a black button, later model whereas earlier breeds sported a chromed shutter button…as if that matters.

What does matter is that the Bronica GS-1 was the second to last camera model ever to be introduced before the company officially closed it’s doors in November of 2005. It’s the penultimate manifestation of a five-decade legacy of ‘cameraderie’. Only one more medium format body was manufactured before Tamron ended the night with a bit of a photographic unicorn: the Bronica RF645…a rangefinder. Which, kinda sorta…maybe…resembles a Mamiya 7.

Now that we’re all caught up on the history that led up to the birth of the GS-1 let’s get down to squeezing the real juice.

The Big Bronica

I’m in Sunnyvale, California lying in a bed that’s not mine. The blue glow of first light started to leach in through the curtains and I find myself waking from some distant dream. For a few months the idea had been rattling around my head to grab hold of a medium format camera — but which one? As I stared at that eggshell ceiling the details of the dream were still fresh and from the recollection I knew I had seen the Big Bronica…even though I didn’t know it was the Big Bronica at the time.

Over the course of the day I fingered around the internet looking for medium format bodies that matched what I saw during my dream time. Then I found them: the whole line-up of contemporary Bronicas from the ETRS to the SQ to the ETRSi. I wanted the largest format negative possible at the time and that’s what sent me straight to the GS-1.

Now, think what you will about this dream. I’m not going to pump sunshine up your skirt and claim it was an honest to God message from my subconscious or a fuse tap into the greater Universe. Maybe I had noticed a Bronica camera somewhere online and it tattooed itself on the backside of my brain. It could have been I just happened to dream of a big, black camera, found the Bronica first, and that’s triggered a retrograde false memory. Who knows. What I do know is that through whatever modus I found myself scouring the damn, dirty eBay for a Bronica GS-1.

I found her in Spain. A hell of a deal on the whole smear. After nearly a month of sweaty anticipation the bundle from across the sea arrived to me there in California: the camera, a 100mm F/3.5 Zenzanon PG lens, metered AE prism viewfinder, two 6x7 film backs, speed grip, and a camera bag that looked to be snatched off some shag carpet straight from the 1980’s.

All pristine, all beautiful. Hell, the entire camera looked brand new. More importantly, everything functioned perfectly.

How do you work this thing?

What can be said about the functions of the Big Bronica? Operationally, it’s not much different than many other medium format SLR cameras of the same flavor. The camera body is built around a mirror/screen focusing system with a single trap rear gate and Seiko-built leaf shutter mechanism (located in the lens).

Film backs for the Big Bronica are absolute perfection. They feature dedicated ISO selector wheel plus a built-in -3 to +3 exposure compensation switch.

The GS-1 system was available with a range of film backs in both 120 and 220 film size. To my knowledge, in addition to the common 6x7 back the user could acquire backs formatted for both 6x6 and 6x4.5 as well as a 135 (35mm) format. However, the latter is something that I have only heard about but never actually seen.

Flash sync (sync at any shutter speed) is located at the top left face while the cable release port, lens disconnect switch and back release button are all positioned plainly on the side of the body.

Shutter button is front-mounted on at the bottom right of the camera face with film advanced through the camera via winding crank.

Aside from these meat and potato accoutrements the GS-1 sports virtually every other bell and whistle a cavalier photographer could hope to possess. There are easy to tickle switches for MLU (mirror lock-up) and double exposure.

Shutter speed is adjusted by a sizable control knob. Speeds begin at ‘bulb’ and continue in (full-stop increments) from 16sec to 1/500th sec plus ‘Auto’. Those in-camera long exposure options are a Godsend and saves a lazy person the anguish of constant bulb mode reliance.

The ‘A’ on the shutter wheel is of course ‘Auto’ mode and it works WONDERFULLY. At least on my copy of the GS-1 the in-camera meter is shockingly accurate. Paired with the metered prism finder the carefree shooting experience is both a qualitive luxury and a welcomed respite from full-time manual exposure selection.

The Big Bronica is heavy, but not too heavy; weighing in at around 1400g (about 3lbs) for the body+6x7 back+waist-level finder+orginal strap+roll of 120 film. Add a 65mm F/4 and that pumps up the heft to around 2,177g (4.8lbs).

Seeing as my trusty Canon 5DMK3 mated to the Sigma 24mm F/1.4 Art (my heaviest EF-mount glass) weighs about 2,040g(4.5lbs) it becomes clear that, while the Big Bronica is certainly plump, it is not astronomically so. That is… until we go full bore with all those beautiful accessories and cross into the realm of true photographic psychosis.

Attaching the speed grip adds 458g plus another 454g if we switch out the waist-level viewfinder for that glorious AE prism finder. It’s worth noting that the AE finder is not self-powered (no batteries). Instead, it piggybacks off the camera battery. All in, with the speed grip and AE prism finder, the Bronica GS-1 becomes truly “dumb thicc” and tips the scale with its bruising girth at 3,089g — that’s roughly 6.8lbs.

Keep in mind, too, that is weighed with the Zenzanon 65mm F/4 which is a smallish PG-mount lens. Add on any tele over 150mm and the weight blasts up considerably.

Now, I hear you mumbling from the front row. Why oh why would anyone dream of plastering on over 3lbs of additional appendages to an already sizable camera? The answer is shear, unadulterated usability. Jockeying the Big Bronica around with the speed grip and AE finder does balloon its waistline but it quite literally transforms the shooting experience.

Not only does that speed grip offer a solid palm crunch and speedlight mounting (the only on-camera way to use a flash) but it also transfers the film advance mechanics a 1 1/2 throw thumb lever and places the shutter button directly beneath your index finger. Quite simply put, it morphs the Big Bronica into what truly feels like a big, 6x7mm SLR film camera — which is essentially exactly what it is.

What’s more, bearing up that nearly 7lbs of pure camera sex is much more manageable than you might think at first blush. Sure, 7lbs is still 7lbs…but with the grip the entire setup is remarkably nimble.

It’ll break your neck if you use the strap, though….

Electronic Cancer

A bit earlier I mentioned the AE prism finder draws power from the camera battery and that means yes, the Big Bronica GS-1 is a fully battery powered, electronic operating system. I mean everything. The meter. The shutter. Even the cable release is electronic (not a mechanical plunger). All these core functions crutch upon a single, PX28 battery and it’s accompanying circuitry. It’s here where we come face to hideous face with the cameratic Achille’s heal of the Big Bronica: she is 100% electric.

Don’t misunderstand me. At a functional level, I know no problem with slinging electronic cameras. In fact, some of my most well-used photographic whips of all time are electric at heart. My beloved Electro 35 GSN, which you have already met here on Medium, is thoroughly electronic, obviously. Even my big, brass tank Nikon F3 HP pitches a battery driven meter and shutter. However, those two cameras still are mechanically functional to some extent even if the electronics go to see Jesus (or whatever being cameras choose) with the Electro reverting to a stiff 1/500th second shutter-only operation and the F3 featuring an ingenious front-mounted shutter releasing switch throwing about 1/60th of a second.

All this to drive home the fact that while those other cameras may rely heavily on electricity they are still, with some crafty aperture control, more or less still useable even if all the juice stops flowing. The Big Bronica is not. That means that…and I recoil at the prospect…wait…give me a minute…

*audible “grown man weeping” sounds*

*clashing of bottles*

*gnashing of teeth*

The rum helps. Alright, where was I?

…that means that eventually, regardless of any amount of proper care or vigilant upkeep, my beautiful Bronica GS-1 will one day die. This is the shared doom of every 100% electric-reliant camera. Without live electronic internals the shutter on the Big Bronica simply will not fire. I’m certain if one were so inclined (and made of gold) a complete swap out of all electronic components would be possible but one has to understand that these cameras and their respective parts haven’t been manufactured for nearly two decades. As such, we are left with an ever-shrinking watering hole to drink from in terms of replacement parts and this brutal realization brings into sharp relief a grim prospect: at some point, sooner or later, there will be no more functioning Bronica GS-1 cameras left among us.

A Taste of Paradise

It’s impossible to count with any real certainty how many rolls of film I’ve cycled through the Big Bronica over the years. If a spatula was held to my head I would estimate the figure to land in the mid to high hundreds if not greater. In the brief photographic essay I posted not long ago, An Appalachian Morning on Medium Format I mentioned a few of the incredible places the Big Bronica and I have ventured to across these United States. The GS-1 produced every medium format photograph featured within my photographic monograph On the Left. That big mirror has slapped from Big Sur all the way to the Atlantic ocean and countless weird places in between.

I want to share a selection of those photographs with you now. They were selected at random from the archives and are in no particular order.

And there are so many more. What a ride it’s been.

Trembling Hands of an Unsure Parting

At the beginning of all this I tilted at the prospect that the end of this story could well see the inevitable parting of me and the Big Bronica. The reasons for this uncertain yet wholly possible scenario lie rooted in confliction. If you follow me outside of Medium (namely Instagram) you’ll know I’m finally in the latter stages of moving onto the road full-time. My house is about to go up for sale and I’ll be moving into Bruce: my 4Runner that I have completely converted into a shockingly well-furnished micro-home.

Naturally, with a festively plump hound onboard in addition to my big self free space in such a cabin comes at a divine premium. Since I’ll already be shuffling around with an antique 8x10 view camera (Winston), a 4x5 Speedgraphic (Marcus) and a host of smaller format digital and film cameras, my three-lens Bronica setup could well become more of a hindrance than a help. I still want to have a medium format camera system around but one with a smaller form factor likely carrying only single lens.

Hang on…the UPS truck quite literally just pulled up with a delivery….

Dear God.

I’ve been met with an unexpected horror that rides the far edge of perceivable comprehension. This is a turn of events that could well dictate the outcome of this very story as it is typed.

The Big Bronica’s possible replacement has just arrived and it’s in absolutely horrid condition.

The lens has just disintegrated in my hands.

The damn thing was literally shipped 0ver 2,000 miles (about 3,200km) from California to Tennessee in nothing but a plastic bag.

No true packaging. No padding of any kind; just a bare case with it’s guts left to jumble like some demented hurricane as it made it’s bloodied trek across the country.

I’m stunned. Flabbergasted. Gobsmacked. My disbelief has been violently beliefed.

Who could do this? Who could think this was O.K.? This camera was essentially in new condition when I purchased it off eBay last week…and now…just look at it. Battered. Shamed. Completely disrespected on every conceivable level. Christ.

To piss even harder in the face of any sort of propriety the seller is another film guy; a real one; a long term eBayer with a 100% positive feedback rating no less. We even carried on a lengthy conversation on the camera and why it was being sold.

Could this be the first real consequence of grabbing the snake by the ears after years of wading the swamps of eBay camera speculation? Maybe so.

An Abrupt and Unforeseen Ending

Friends. It is here where this strange review/lamentational on the Big Bronica GS-1 must end. I had every intention of digging deeper into the details of how the newly arrived camera could replace the Bronica and why I was even considering the swap. I had planned on providing a drawn out list of things to look out for if you were compelled to search for your own GS-1. It would have all terminated with a glorious pro/con run down between both cameras that would end in me welcoming you to join me and offer your own thoughts on the entire enterprise…but now…good Lord.

The world has been turned on its head and shook out by the ankles for loose change.

I’m remain stupefied at this ridiculous turn in the narrative.

To be continued….

All text and images copyright 2023 by Adam Welch unless otherwise indicated

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