Monthly Archives: January 2024

Terence Cuneo

Steam train painting master.

Ask me which photography book I would choose if I could only have one and the answer has been unchanged for decades. It’s O. Winston Link’s (1914-2001) Steam, Steel and Stars. A masterpiece of nostalgia, composition and technique, it’s so good that I own two copies, the lighter paperback joining me on my travels:


Everyone should have two.

But a photographer can only go with what is there. Yes, he can change the lighting and composition but he does not have the creative freedom afforded a painter whose limits are those of his imagination. And if you want something of the same caliber as Link’s photographs on a canvas the only choice is the work of Terence Cuneo (1907-96).

High drama is a given in his moving train canvases:


High drama.

Yet the more mundane images are no less powerful and nostalgic:


The signalman.

Cuneo would generally make pen and ink sketches first and completed many commissions for British Railways. In this example, where the cab is being lowered onto the wheels and chassis, he arrived too late. Because he was well known by the operators it was a moment’s work for them to raise the cab so he could complete his sketch:


Preliminary sketch.

And then, Boom!, an absolute masterpiece:


An Engine is Wheeled.

Imagine an advertising campaign today with this ‘backroom’ approach? Pictures of Chinese slave labor assembling iPhones? I don’t think so.

And if you desire Impressionist genius, Cuneo is happy to oblige, as in this image on the Orient Express:


Impressionism on the Orient Express.

These images are from a splendid book titled ‘Terence Cuneo: Railway Painter of the Century‘. It’s long out of print but available from used sellers and the quality of the printing on very thick stock does justice to Cuneo’s canvases.

Minox B

For the spy in you.


Minox B and 36 exposure film cassette.

Having made 150,941 of its various predecessors, with production starting in Riga, Latvia in 1936, Minox had refined their spy camera to the extent that a dual range, coupled selenium meter was included in the ‘B’ model, first made in 1956. Production totaled a startling 384,328 through 1972, suggesting there were either more Russkie spies than even the CIA counted, or that there were some 300,000 plus twits who thought they could get decent sized prints from the 8 x 11 mm negative the camera produced. They couldn’t.

That’s not to denigrate the ingenuity of the design which includes neutral density and green filters, shutter speeds from 1/2 second to 1/1000, B and T, and focusing to a scant 8″ using the included lanyard as a distance scale. Film cassettes held up to 50 exposures and the very decent viewfinder has a suspended, illuminated frame. The lens has a fixed f/3.5 aperture and with a focal length of 15mm the depth of field is large.

The Minox was part of a complete camera system which included a binocular attachment for the super spook, a projector, an enlarger, a tripod holder and tripod, and a flash attachment for AG1 peanut flash bulbs for midnight spookery.


Minox B with flashbulb attachment. The reflector retracts.

This is the latest addition to the Home Theater photographic hardware display and dates from 1962. Believe it or not, it has a properly functioning exposure meter, activated with the button at right. By the time the B was made production had moved to Wetzlar in Germany and the camera is quite beautifully made, just like the Leica M3 next door. But now that everyone on earth has a spy camera – it’s called a cell phone – the Minox is no more than a charming period piece on display with a variety of other classics, and it is most assuredly a classic piece. However, if you need huge prints, stick with that iPhone.


Michael Caine has at it in The Ipcress File, 1965.