Nikkor-S Auto 35mm f/2.8 - A Spirited Fifty-Year-Old

Recently, one of my old Nikkors found its way back into my hands. I bought it some time ago in a fungus-infected condition, but mechanically sound, with a properly working aperture. The reason for the purchase was somewhat unusual. For quite a while, a thought had been growing in my mind to buy an inexpensive old lens and, like a little boy, take it apart just to see how it was built.

Most people know that this is not the smartest idea and that damaged or fungus-infected lenses should be sent to a professional service center. That is certainly the best possible solution. However, there is a small group of people, myself included, who sometimes like to fix things on their own, unfortunately not always with great success. I figured that even if I failed to repair the lens and only gained experience handling good old precision mechanics, that would still be a benefit.

After watching a few instructional videos, I purchased various lens disassembly tools as recommended. The plan was simple. Take it apart, clean it, and if possible reassemble it correctly.

Of course, I made a few beginner’s mistakes which fortunately did not have serious consequences. Since I had not marked the orientation of the elements, during reassembly I inserted some of the lens elements backwards several times. This resulted in rather controversial artistic effects and at one point made proper focusing completely impossible. Thankfully, after many minutes of trial and error, I managed to reassemble the lens so that it started producing sharp images again. The joy was comparable to passing a university exam. I felt proud, as if I had just started the engine of an old Mustang that had been sitting in my grandfather’s garage for decades.

After carefully checking the serial number, I discovered that this particular lens was manufactured between 1971 and 1974. I paused for a moment to consider how many items I own that are that old and honestly nothing came to mind.

The moment I picked up the lens, I immediately felt its solid build quality. Weighing 200 grams, it clearly communicates that it is made of nothing but metal and glass. There are no plastic components that became common in later years.

The letter S in the name comes from the Latin word Septa, meaning seven elements. To be precise, the lens consists of 7 elements arranged in 6 groups. At the time, this naming convention was often used to indicate the optical construction. Nikon’s marketing team considered it an important piece of information, but over time the number of elements ceased to be a key selling point and this type of naming was eventually abandoned.

For its production era, it was a relatively fast lens with a maximum aperture of f2.8. The aperture range down to f16 provides decent control over depth of field.

This particular copy came with a Nikon HN-3 screw-in lens hood. It certainly does its job, although I was not especially impressed by it. During the pre AI period, Nikon often used single coating, meaning a single anti reflective layer, so the hood helped reduce flares and reflections to some extent. On sunny days it is worth using, as the lens does not control flare particularly well and images can lose contrast. The hood is entirely made of metal and very well built, although in my humble opinion the design is not its strongest feature.

Especially wide open, the lens is not as sharp as modern lenses. However, stopping it down to f4 noticeably improves contrast and sharpness. Like most vintage lenses, it reaches its maximum resolution around f8.

The lens was manufactured in Japan and, like most Nikon lenses from that era, was built to the highest quality standards. It certainly has its charm. One of my favorite details is the chrome front ring. It always reminds me of 1970s cars that proudly displayed shiny chrome accents. This has no direct impact on image quality, but if you think about it, when the appearance of a lens improves our mood, we may become more creative and our photographs may benefit as a result.

The beautifully designed distance scale, white markings for meters and yellow for feet, adds even more character. A positive feature worth mentioning is the minimum focusing distance of 0.3 meters. I must admit I was slightly surprised by the ability to shoot from such a short distance. When stopped down, the image quality at close range was genuinely good.

Both the focusing ring and the aperture ring are made entirely of metal, which gives a sense of durability that feels greater than that of the rubber coated rings commonly used today.

The photo was taken from a distance of 30 centimeters.

Below I have attached 4 photos taken from a distance of 30 centimeters.

The aperture and shutter speed were set manually.

ISO 1000, 1/320, f/2.8

ISO 1000, 1/160, f/4

ISO 1000, 1/100, f/5.6

ISO 1000, 1/100, f/8

Overall, I am very satisfied with this lens. Once stopped down, it becomes sharp, contrasty, and delivers a very generous depth of field. When it comes to focusing, the lens is quite forgiving, which means that with a bit of practice it is relatively easy to achieve sharp images quickly.