Category Archives: Film

A crank for cranks

There’s one born every minute.

For an index of all Leica-related articles click here.

I extolled the many virtues of the 1954 Leica M3, compared with its predecessors, here. However one failing I did not mention was the poor design of the film rewind knob on the top left, because it’s still a knob, is still small in diameter and is still sharply knurled. This means that rewinding an exposed film back into its cassette is a slow and painful procedure. In the 35 years I used an M3 I avoided this issue by fitting an aftermarket rewind crank and these remain abundantly available today, typically selling for some $55 from the Commies in China.


The aftermarket crank extended and ready for action.

But there are at least 2 alternatives. The first comes from a vendor named Popflash whose products are frequently listed on eBay. The advantage of their design is the inclusion of a small plastic nub on the tip of the retaining Allen screw which means that your precious rewind knob will not be marred by metal-to-metal contact. (Popflash also lists imitation 1960s era Leica lens clones under the ‘Light Lens Lab’ brand, if that’s your thing).


The smart design of the Popflash retaining screw.

As a precaution against marring, I also stick a small piece of Scotch tape to the top left side of the top plate of the M3 in case the base of the crank should come into contact with it when in use.

Mine ran me $79 and right after I bought it the price shot up to $138. This is verging on silly pricing for stupid people. But if you are really dumb, and I mean really, really dumb, why not go for the real thing from Leica, including free marring of your knob, if you know what I mean, something Leica warns about in its promotional materials:


A crank for cranks.

DUH!

Leitz actually added a built in crank with the M4 and most later film cameras. This was angled at 45 degrees to the top plate to clear the optional MR4 Leicameter exposure meter and some reports suggest that the device was on the fragile side. Certainly the massive center shaft of the earlier and simpler knurled knob design was not known to fail, as there was less to go wrong. My M6 had the sloped crank and I did not find it preferable to the stock knob plus aftermarket crank on the M3.


The angled crank on an M4.

Rewind time for a 36 exposure roll? I generally average 9-10 seconds without going crazy. 10 seconds if you push me.

Leica M3

A reunion.

For an index of all Leica-related articles click here.

I have been patiently building a small collection of classic photography hardware in my home theater, the emphasis being on cameras which were revolutionary in the way they changed the medium. Further, electronics are anathema to this collection which focuses on the great machines of the mechanical age.

If there is one 20th century camera which rules it has to be the Nikon F, the first bullet proof single lens reflex camera which, incidentally, can claim to have ended the Viet Nam war. Most of the searing images from the front lines of that conflict were made on the Nikon F which became de rigeur hardware for any aspiring photojournalist. The Nikon came along in 1959 along with a large range of fine lenses, but 5 years earlier 1954 saw an introduction almost as significant, in the guise of the Leica M3.

The screw mount Leicas with their poor ergonomics, unchanged since the 1930s, were suddenly a thing of the past.


Clunky with poor ergonomics –
the Leica IIIF predecessor to the M3.

Gone were the dual shutter speed dials, replaced with a single dial with equally spaced click stops. Gone was the slow and fussy screw mount for lenses, replaced with a robust and long wearing bayonet mount. Gone was the slow and clumsy knob used to advance the film, replaced with a beautifully ergonomically engineered advance lever. Gone was the antediluvian film loading system which dictated a long leader on your emulsion of choice to allow insertion from the baseplate past the twin sprockets. An opening film back made things far easier. Gone was the need to manually reset the film counter for every new roll, for the M3’s counter reset automatically to minus 2 when the take-up spool was removed.


The opening film back greatly simplified reloading.

But, most importantly, the masterstroke of the Leica M3 was the superb combined rangefinder/viewfinder. No more did the user have to focus through one peephole and compose through another. And the latter really was a peephole, one of the worst viewfinders in any camera. Now the generously sized rangefinder patch appeared in the center of the large and very bright viewfinder and, unlike the contemporary Zeiss Ikon Contax IIa, the edges of the rangefinder patch were perfectly sharp allowing for alignment focusing as well as coincident use. A masterstroke, and still to be found on today’s ridiculously priced digital Leica M11 and variants. 80 years and counting testify to the exceptional design. And not only was that combined rangefinder/viewfinder big and bright, it would automatically show the correct frame lines for 90mm and 135mm lenses when they were fitted. And the icing on the cake was that the finder was automatically parallax compensated, the frames moving diagonally down to the right as the lens was racked out.


A masterstroke – the fine M3 finder.
In this snap the 135mm frame appears inside the 50mm one.

As there was no built in light meter Leitz provided a coupling selenium cell version which slid into the accessory shoe and coupled with the shutter speed dial. All you had to do was note the aperture reading indicated by the needle and transfer that to the lens, which was as fast as exposure measurement got before the days of automation. It worked well and I used that slip on selenium meter, which needed no battery, for 35 years. It never let me down.


The Leicameter MC.

You can read more about Leicameters here.

Above all, along with all these functional improvements, the Leica M3 was – and remains to this day – beautiful to behold. And to hold and operate it was a dream, everything in the right place with a wonderful feel of solidity. The M3 was reliable as long as you sent it for a good cleaning and lubrication every decade or so. This, after all, was no Nikon F when it came to brute robustness, but it was no shrinking violet either, being tough and dependable. Whack the body and the rangefinder might go out of alignment but even the home klutz can realign things with two provided screws. Ask me how I know. During its 12 year run Leitz made almost a quarter million M3 bodies. Compare that with the Nikon’s 15 year run through 1974, during which time Nippon Kogaku churned out 4 times as many Nikon Fs. No, the F did not need service every decade.

The M3 was my first ‘serious’ camera bought after three years of scrimping and saving in 1971 when I was 20, and was my ‘go to’ camera for the next 35 years. It was finally sold in 2006 when the Canon 5D full frame DSLR came along. Yet, truth be told, I never quite got over that sale, which bowed to my vow not to own anything I was not using. Well, that vow has been broken with the arrival of my home theater collection and finally a Leica M3, the last addition, has joined the other classics on display.

These include:

  • The Minox B spy camera of the 007 Cold War generation
  • The Contax IIa similar to the one Capa took to Omaha Beach on D Day
  • A Nikon F of course
  • The Rolleiflex 2.8D which every fashion maven was using in the 1950s
  • A Bolex H16 movie camera on which Spielberg cut his teeth
  • A Calumet/Cambo monorail studio camera which takes 5″ x 4″ sheet film, much loved by the Hollywood glamor photographers of the early days of the talkies
  • Classic Leitz, Linhof and Gandolfi tripods, the latter over a century old

Not a microchip, sensor or battery to be found in the lot.

The Leica M3 had a long life, being made through 1966, and while there were minor variations, it was largely unchanged during those 12 years of production. Early models had a two stroke lever wind as Leitz wrongly believed that a rapid single stroke would tear the film’s sprockets, or maybe cause electrostatic sparking and fogging. Choose which version you like, but I tend to the sparking story as early models had a glass pressure plate, eventually replaced by a conventional – and conductive – metal one, which worked every bit as well. Or better. Somewhere in early production the film transport gears were switched from soft brass to steel, conferring harder wearing properties. Some nuts claim that the earlier brass gears were smoother to which all I can say is …. nuts. About the same time the strap eyelets were moved from the side of the top plate to the front of the body, making for a better balanced whole with a more elegant design.

Early shutter speed progression was the non-linear 1/2, 1/5, 1/10, 1/25 etc. one, later replaced by that in use by every other maker, 1/2, 1/4, 1/8, 1/15, 1/30 and so on. Sometime around 1958 the rangefinder rectangle sprouted two protruding rectangles top and bottom which approximated the depth of field at f/16 and f/5.6 with the 50mm lens if the misaligned coincident images fell within their breadth. Hmmm. A solution looking for a problem.

While all M3s appeared to come with the front panel self timer lever, early models did not include the frame preview lever which allowed previewing of the 90mm and 135mm fields of view if neither of those lenses was fitted. The thicker 50mm frame lines were visible regardless of the lens fitted and if a 35mm optic was your thing Leitz provided one with auxiliary ‘goggles’ which made the 50mm frame show the wider field of view. A tad clunky but it worked for me for over three decades.


The 35mm Summaron with goggles for the M3.
These were easily removable on the early f/3.5 version.

And when my first Leica M3 arrived on August 2, 1971, with a modest 50mm collapsible Elmar lens, I was ready to hit the streets, having spent the scrimping and saving years boning up on Cartier-Bresson and Doisneau. These were two great if humorless French street workers, whose work I was determined to emulate with an added soupçon of humor. I eventually added two more modest lenses, a 35mm Summaron and a 90mm Elmar, sufficient for most tasks for which the camera was designed. And while my trinity of lenses represented the bottom of the line Leitz options their resolving power was just fine for big prints.

That Leica M3 was simply made for me and represented as fine a street snapper as was available, before auto everything and zoom lenses rendered it and its many derivatives obsolete.


As fine and humorous a street snapper
as was available.
Crufts Dog show, 1972. Leica M3,
90mm Elmar, TriX.

And now it’s in my collection and, yes, the serial number is almost identical to that of my first one, making it August 1958 vintage.


The Leica M3.

Now all I have to do is find a lens for it. I rather fancy that 35mm Summaron with goggles which was used for most of the pictures in my book ‘Street Smarts‘.

Want to buy one? Either make sure it has had a recent documented CLA (Cleaning, Lubrication and Adjustment) or budget up to $500 to have it brought up to snuff. Even the youngest M3 is almost 60 years old and those lubricants, if original, are probably dried up. Cosmetic appearance and function are unrelated.

Anchorage 1978

A new life for an old image.

For an index of all my Film related articles, click here.

I lived in Anchorage from November 1977 through October 1980, after which I moved to New York, new green card in hand.

The long summer days brought with them acidic colors and what better emulsion to do these justice than Kodachrome? I preferred Kodachrome 64 to the slower 25 variant, trading coarser grain for one and a half stops in speed gain. Even so ASA 64 rather pales beside what modern digital technology can deliver at a far higher quality level.

This image was taken on 4th Avenue which was ripped apart by a 9.2 earthquake in 1964, still the most powerful recorded in the US. Appropriately enough this occurred on Good Friday, for 4th Avenue was a den of iniquity back then, replete with dive bars and shady businesses.


Kodachrome yellow.

This image has been given new life when recently rescanned using the Nikon D800. The original Kodachrome slide is as good as new, no fading detectable. and was taken on my Leica M3 with the 50mm Summicron lens.

Valoi easy120 film scanning device

Nice but way overpriced.

There are four key reasons why the inexpensive 35mm film scanning device from JJC was such a success:

  • Under $100
  • Assured parallelism of camera sensor and film planes
  • Superior definition to that from flat bed or dedicated scanners
  • Fast

Checking my LRc catalog I see that I ended up scanning 2300 35mm negatives and slides over an 8 week period working 2 hours or so daily (a rate of 20.5 scans per hour, including processing time at a cost of just 4 cents a scan) and were I using a traditional flatbed scanner I would still have another 12 months of wait time ahead of me …. and with lower definition results. How about 1 hour per high quality scan using a flat bed? Talk of using the wrong technology.

Now a 120 version of the JJC device has been announced by Valoi, using identical design principles but with one big if. It’s very expensive. By the time you add a film holder, duster and the advance mechanism you are looking at $750. Checking my physical albums I count 28 rolls of 120 film negatives and slides, or 336 images which works out to $2.26 and, no, I will not be taking any more film snaps on 120 or any other format, despite the imminent arrival of a gorgeous ‘display only’ Rolleiflex 2.8D from 1955. All this extolling of the purported superiority of film over digital is straight out of Pseuds’ Corner, attributable to people who (rightly) place a very low value on their time. If that’s you and you want to pay twice as much, one of these is just the ticket.


The Valoi 120 film scanning device. Click the image for their web site.

The specs state that 6×4.5, 6×6 and 6×7 (no mention that I can find of 6×9) film format masks are available, each at an outrageous $75 each for a simple piece of plastic.

If a Chinese copy comes along at $200 or less I’m a buyer. Otherwise those 120 film originals can wait. Meanwhile, if you have thousands of originals to scan the Valoi might make better economic sense for you than for me.

Kodachrome – the only excuse to use film

Gone, but not forgotten.

The Big Yellow God. Thus was Kodak known in the 1970s because you mailed your exposed Kodachrome slide film in a yellow mailer to Rochester, NY and time and the USPS permitting, you would get your slides back, beautifully mounted in 2″x2″ cardboard, in a yellow box, in a couple of weeks.


The Ektachrome outlier was their 160ASA/ISO speed demon!

In 1970 Kodak lost a trust busting suit which allowed only the BYG to process Kodachrome and the floodgates opened to independent processing shops who could afford the costly gear and crack the 17-step process, which included a couple of re-exposure steps to effect reversal of the image. Consonant with that old economic adage that “All control drives up price” prices crashed and Kodachrome became the most popular film on the planet. That explains the above slides lacking the Kodak imprimatur on the cardboard mount. They were processed by indie shops which had a faster turnaround.


The Kodachrome process.

While my color snapping had seen but one roll of Kodachrome exposed in Paris along with one of grain crazy Ansco/GAF’s 500, I no longer had a darkroom after taking my last TriX monochrome image and, quite frankly, I was bored to death with black and white. So why not the best? I loaded up my Leica with Kodachrome 64 (I considered the 25 ASA alternative too slow) and had at it. This was in November, 1977.


My first color image in the US. November, 1977, Anchorage, AK.


Indie Kodak processing lab, Anchorage.


Harsh and high contrast.


Kodachrome yellows and reds were to die for.


On the Natchez, Mississippi River, New Orleans.


Brennan’s, New Orleans.


Bourbon Street, New Orleans.


New Orleans.


Bergdorf’s, NYC.


NYC.

Kodachrome was a very contrasty film with unique rendering of yellows and reds. It was not especially fine grained, as these ultra-high resolution scans from my Nikon D800 disclose. At ISO 100 on the D800’s monster 36mp sensor there is zero digital ‘grain’. You only see what was stored on the film itself. No matter. They print just fine.

Leica M3 and Leicaflex SL, 50mm Summicron, Kodachrome 64, ‘scanned’ on the Nikon D800.