Street Photography Meets Vintage Simplicity
Shooting the streets with a vintage Yashica Electro35 MC and Kodak Tri-X 400
There’s something uniquely satisfying about walking through the streets of New York, or any city for that matter, with a vintage camera in hand, especially a camera like the Yashica Electro35 MC. Tiny in size, simple, and surprisingly capable, this 1970s-era zone-focus compact king became my companion for a recent roll of Kodak Tri-X 400, shot across the endless neighborhoods of Brooklyn and Manhattan.
The Electro35 MC is far from a perfect camera by any standards—it doesn’t offer full manual control, the focusing is zone-based (big head, half body, and mountains…you know the set up), and the exposure meter is rather rudimentary. But that’s exactly what made it so enjoyable. With the MC, I wasn’t fussing with settings or menus—I was immersed in the rhythm of the streets. It’s the kind of camera that forces you to slow down just enough to be present, but quick enough to capture fleeting moments.
Its fixed 40mm f/2.8 lens is surprisingly sharp and offers a classic rendering that pairs beautifully with black-and-white film. Zone focusing turned out to be less of a limitation and more of a tool for intuition—after a while, you begin to feel the distance, especially in fast-paced environments like a Brooklyn street or an East Village sidewalk hustle.
If there’s a film that screams “timeless”—in my opinion—it’s ever-classic Kodak Tri-X 400. I’ve shot it in a variety of situations before, but something about pairing it with the Yashica MC gave this roll an extra layer of character. The grain is pronounced but beautiful, the contrast is punchy without being harsh, and it handled everything from harsh afternoon sun to overcast backstreets like a champ.
There’s a certain magic in not knowing exactly what you captured until later. With each click of the shutter, I was trusting my instincts.
One of my favorite parts of shooting film is the hands-on experience from start to finish. I developed the roll at home using Cinestills black and white monobath. The negatives came out somewhat clean and consistent, with a lovely tonal range that reminded me why Tri-X has endured for generations. But please excuse the dust and scratches as I’m still learning the ropes and developing my rhythm so to speak.
After drying, I scanned the film using my Epson V550, tweaking only lightly in post to preserve the organic look. Grainy, yes—but in a way that adds texture rather than noise. Each image felt like a memory, not just a photo.
Shooting with the Yashica Electro35 MC was a reminder of why I love capturing simple snapshots in the first place. There’s joy in imperfection, in trusting your eye and embracing the quirks of vintage gear. In a city as dynamic and unpredictable as New York, this simple camera and a roll of Tri-X helped me slow down and appreciate the fleeting beauty of everyday life.
Sometimes, all you need is a little shooter, a reliable film stock, and the streets of the city to remind you that great photography doesn’t require the latest tech—just a good eye, a steady hand, and a passion for the process.
Thanks for reading! —Greg
