In 1975, while still a student, David Katzenstein stumbled upon an old Kodak Duaflex at a yard sale in New London, Connecticut. “I purchased it for 25 cents,” he recalls. It wasn’t meant to replace his Leica M3, the camera he used for his daily work, but rather to challenge his eye and force new ways of seeing. With its fixed focus and waist-level finder, the Duaflex offered him a radically different tool — one that valued instinct over control and intuition over precision. “I thought that by trying to photograph with the Duaflex I could experiment with the limitations of this fixed focus camera to create a body of work totally different from what I was creating with the Leica,” he says.
This experiment would grow into a decade-long project — and ultimately a book, Brownie, published nearly 50 years later. It is a story not just of a camera, but of an artist learning to embrace constraint. Inspired more by painters like Matisse and Bonnard than by other photographers, Katzenstein saw in the square frame and soft focus of the Duaflex an invitation to think differently about composition, color, and narrative. “For me, the word Brownie is synonymous with the history of snapshot photography,” he notes, situating the project within Kodak’s legacy of bringing image-making into everyday life.
The early years of Brownie unfolded close to home, on the streets of New York — in Brooklyn, in Manhattan, and across the river in Atlantic City. But the Duaflex quickly became a travel companion. In 1980, Katzenstein boarded a plane to Mexico “with only two Brownie cameras and a bunch of film,” and over the following decade, he carried it with him to Haiti, Morocco, Egypt, Guatemala, and Ecuador. The results are vivid and immersive: crowded streets, quiet corners, daily gestures. By placing objects close to the lens and letting scenes unfold beyond them, Katzenstein learned to “create a juxtaposition between foreground and background” that turned ordinary spaces into layered visual narratives.
His approach was defined as much by patience as by spontaneity. He preferred to photograph just after sunrise or before sunset, when the light softened edges and deepened tones. The square frame didn’t impose humor but occasionally revealed it — in fleeting gestures, unexpected colors, or moments when the chaos of the street seemed to align just so. “There’s a sense of humor in the series overall,” he says, describing the heightened sense of color and composition that “will bring a smile to the viewer’s face.” Through repetition and discipline, the camera’s limitations became strengths, shaping a distinctive visual language that belongs entirely to this project.
By the late 1980s, the Duaflex had done its work. Kodak stopped producing 620 film in 1995, and Katzenstein had long since moved on to working with twin Leicas. But Brownie remained — first as negatives and contact sheets tucked away in boxes, and now as a 200-page book published by Hirmer. Containing 134 images, it is a deeply personal travelogue that feels both intimate and universal, both documentary and painterly. It reminds us that sometimes, the most modest tools — and the most deliberate limitations — can yield the richest creative discoveries.
On the occasion of the release of his book, David Katzenstein spoke to Blind about his exceptional journey and his relationship with the camera.
Is there anything special about the Brownie camera?
What was special about the Duaflex for me was its technical limitations. It was developed by Kodak in the late 1940s to emulate the best camera of the time, the twin lens Rolleiflex. So by looking down through the viewfinder like the Rolleiflex, I was able to compose in a different way than with the Leica. Since the camera was fixed focus and fixed shutter speed and aperture, I had to learn how to use these limitations to create a new visual language.
How was it photographing during a decade?
I was able to really develop my visual language and familiarity with the camera over time. Once I had a better grasp on the camera, I was able to hone in on what could make for an interesting composition. Always aware of the limitations of the camera in terms of focus, the foregrounds began to play a very important part of my compositions.
Do you think these images are quite playful?
I agree that there is a sense of humor in the series overall. The selection of subject matter along with the heightened sense of color and composition guides them very in a particular way, which hopefully often will bring a smile to the viewer’s face.
Did the square format bring humour to your photography?
The square format did not specifically bring humor, but by having equal sides to the frame as opposed to the horizontal or vertical format of 35mm photography, I was able to treat the overall scene in a different way.
Where did you take photos with this camera and when?
In the beginning I mastered my skills with the camera in Connecticut where I was at school and then in New York City, where I moved after graduating in the late 1970s. Beginning in 1980 I made my first international trip to Mexico, bringing with me only two Brownie cameras and a bunch of film. After the visual rewards of that trip to Oaxaca, I began to branch out over the next decade to plan trips to Haiti, Morocco, Egypt, Guatemala, and Ecuador. All these places had cultures of great interest to me, plus the advantage of being very colorful.
Did you have any topics in mind when starting photographing with the Brownie?
My work from the very beginning has always been about exploring people and places, so I often planned trips that coincided with special festivals and events to increase the chances of being in physical situations where things happen. I was always searching for subjects and light. With this series I often photographed in the early morning hours after sunrise and the late afternoon hours before sunset, when the light was the warmest and most beautiful.
There are a lot of objects in these images, or parts of objects or bodies. Why so?
By deciding to feature objects, whether inanimate or animate, in the foreground I was able to set the stage compositionally to create the juxtaposition between foreground and background. The book provided me an opportunity to select the images that popped and I think the sequencing is successful in reinforcing how the camera’s limitations worked to my advantage.
Some compositions are quite heavy, with a lot of elements. It’s less a style one would use with the square vision. It creates a unique atmosphere. Could you talk about these images?
I often gave myself a challenge to see if I could fill the entire square frame with a lot of elements. When successful it recalled to me some of the paintings of Pierre Bonnard, who was my primary influence as I began this entire series in color. He was a master of using the entire frame, filling his paintings with color and objects.
Is there any major theme or message around this series of images?
Brownie highlights how the camera’s simplicity, in fact, became my biggest asset. The fixed-focus lens and square format really forced me to question the composition and to use its limitations in a positive way, which at the time I found very compelling. The viewer is in a sense also invited to view the world through this lens along with me and I hope they will feel their ethereal quality.
Do you still use the Brownie?
No, I stopped using the camera, for the most part, in about 1989. These cameras used 620 Kodacolor film, which was the same film as 120mm but a smaller spool size. Beginning in the 1980s I began to also work with a Leica for black and white photography and the Duaflex for color work. I eventually stopped using the Duaflex in favor of two Leicas when I traveled, one for color and one for black and white. In 1995 Kodak stopped producing Kodacolor film in the 620 spool size.
Brownie, by David Katzenstein, is published by Hirmer Verlag and available for 50€.
