Cameraman tales: Claude Meskens – out of focus

by Terry Gallacher on November 25, 2011

During our coverage of the 1968 Grand Prix at Francorchamps an interesting incident took place. While we were “walking the course” on the morning of the race, I met Claude Meskens who was our local freelance cameraman. Claude was not part of my crew because I thought he would be there for the news service.

He told me that he had been “stood down” as freelance cameraman. This was most odd since he had been the freelance cameraman in Belgium for some years. His work was held in high esteem. He explained that he had trouble with his camera. I asked him to explain the problem.

He had bought the camera new. He previously operated a Paillard-Bolex camera. His new camera was the latest Arriflex made by Arnold and Richter. He had shot one story on it and it was O.K. He then went on a story where someone was trying to cross the North Sea, between Belgium and East Anglia, in a small boat towed by billowing sail rather like a parachute. Whether they were successful or not, I do not know. However, he was following in a small launch which was being thrown about in the sea and with it Claude Meskens. He sent the film in to Denham and he was then told that it was out of focus. He shot another story and that, too, was out of focus.

He was instructed by Simon Ainger a senior journalist in the Denham Newsroom, to get his eyes tested. Claude said he knew it was not his eyes, but he got them tested anyway. The result was that there was nothing wrong with his eyes.

He shot a test and sent it to Denham. It was out of focus.

Next, he was told to send the zoom lens that he was using to Arnold and Richter in Munich for testing. They put it on a collimator and found it to be perfect.

Next, Ainger advised him to send the camera and the lens to Arnold and Richter. Once again, it came back passed as in perfect condition.

Meskens shot a test and had it developed locally. It was out of focus.

Image by prorallypix via Flickr

I told Claude that nobody had consulted me on the subject back in London. I then said to him “Have you focussed the eyepiece”. He said “What do you mean”. I said “The eyepiece can be adjusted to suit your eyes so that, if you wore glasses, you would not need to wear them while using the camera”. I asked him where the camera was and he said that it was in his car. I asked him to fetch it and to bring his tripod.

When he arrived, I pointed out that the eyepiece (viewfinder) had a twist adjustment and even a lock. It seems that he had not noticed it. The Arriflex lens is focussed by what one sees in the eyepiece. He said “How do I adjust it?”. I told him ”Set up the camera on the tripod, select a scene at infinity, set the lens to infinity. Then adjust the eyepiece until it is in focus. Then lock it and leave it there”.

He thought it was some kind of miracle. He, obviously, had not read the handbook. What was sad about this affair is that he was in danger of losing his livelihood because of the ignorance of the journalists back in Denham who would say anything rather than refer the matter to me. I was the only film technician on the staff.

I could never understand why Arnold and Richter did not suggest that he should check his eye-piece. Perhaps they assumed that the eyepiece would have been adjusted already. They had every right to expect that it had. On the other hand, Claude Meskens had, previously, only operated cameras that had independent viewfinders. These offered direct vision of the scene in parallax with the line of the camera lens. The Arriflex, on the other hand, operated on a similar basis to that of a Single Lens Reflex (SLR) system. Claude would not have been alone in failing to read the instructions for setting up the camera, it is a common problem which should have been spotted a long time before.

What had happened is that the eyepiece got knocked out of focus when he was thrown about in his little boat. Claude Meskens remained the stringer for Brussels with UPITN for some time after the incident.