When I was given a Linhof tripod with a sheared off mounting bolt I was bold enough to ask what had happened to the head? The friend grinned and said he should have brought it and then added something curious about, “it is one of three bits that should have come with the tripod.”
Sure enough, next meeting, I was brought three chunks of fine metal sculpting. Two aren’t the subject of this article—they were a ball head and a Linhof pan/tilt head suitable for video cameras—but the third was marked as “SINAR”.
SINAR has been around since 1948 and I have heard of them for almost that long (I was born that year!). To say I look up to them is an understatement.
Sure enough, next meeting, I was brought three chunks of fine metal sculpting. Two aren’t the subject of this article—they were a ball head and a Linhof pan/tilt head suitable for video cameras—but the third was marked as “SINAR”.
SINAR has been around since 1948 and I have heard of them for almost that long (I was born that year!). To say I look up to them is an understatement.
This is what it looks like sitting on a counter. Everything is machined and then finished to a very high standard, even with probably 50-years of hard use. The tripod mentioned earlier came in a duffle bag but still accidents and scuffs add up. Everything will work as well as it did originally—a sure sign of high manufacturing design and engineering.
The tilt lever is held on with an Allen screw that ends up countersunk enough to protect it. The tilt angle scale is marked clearly so you can repeat you settings exactly.
On the base the pan divisions are equally well finished. Although the knob is not metal, the “SINAR” inset is exquisitely scaled. The two adjustment controls can be distinguished by touch in complete darkness.
The Sinar’s rail simply rests in the saddle until the relatively huge handle is tightened down. The whole camera can be pointed straight down for copy work without any fear the clamp might slip.








Comments
Post a Comment