I am not one for adding to my photographic gear often, nor do I buy items impulsively, preferring to research my intended purchase for months in some cases. When the Leica X Typ 113 was announced last year I read any information I could find enthusiastically and it soon became clear that this camera was going to be a replacement for my much loved X1…but not just yet…or so I thought.
Early last year I began the hunt for a new Digital SLR to replace my trusty Olympus E-510. I wanted something more up-to-date, more robust and essentially more professional. I looked at many manufacturers and found quite a few bodies I liked, but choosing ‘the one’ proved difficult; I did not wish to follow the Canikon herd, preferring something a little more individual…something that didn’t scream ‘me too’, be hobbled by poor reviews or offer a limited lens range that allowed little growth. After much research and a visit to the Focus on Imaging 2012 show I found my ideal camera… the Pentax K-5.
When digital photography began its steady climb to popularity, I watched from the side-lines with great interest. At the time, digital SLRs were very expensive and some of the early models felt like a bastardisation of old film lens technologies grafted onto computers. As time passed it soon became clear that digital photography was here to stay, usurping films long established legacy.
My world collided with this model back in 1991 as part of an exercise to upgrade my existing gear and provide my OM1n with some relief, as this had been the only camera I owned for nine years and I was concerned that a breakdown would leave me camera less for the duration of a repair. This bothered me more when a once in a lifetime opportunity arose, where the results were significantly more precious.
In the years that this model has been available, there can be nothing left to write about it that has not already been said. When released it rapidly became the darling of the photo industry, praised for its compact size and robust build quality. It was used in harsh environments, taken to the top of the world and carried by some of the leading photographers of the day. Its popularity meant that it remained in production for around 14 years, during which time modifications were made to the original OM1 culminating with the OM1n. And as time went by many imitators rose and fell but few, in my opinion, left behind them such an impact on the photo world. It is not in the scope of this article to cover aspects such as this – a quick search on the internet will provide a treasure trove of information.
Back in 1995 Olympus released the last of its professional line of OM series bodies – the OM3Ti. It coincided with their 75th anniversary and was based on the elusive OM3, available around a decade earlier. So why am I discussing it here when all there is to write about it has probably been written? Well, we have one of these in our collection and I have a particular fondness for it. At present, it spends most of its time tucked away in a camera bag full of analogue gear, getting ‘exercised’ once or twice a year with a roll of E-6.
It seems rare today for a camera to come along that looks like it is designed by a photographer and not a by a consortium of IT orientated experts. Most cameras are bristling with buttons and their menu items allow users an almost infinite amount of configuration. Enabling/disabling some of the options can be frustrating to say the least, and having a copy of the manual close to hand is almost a pre-requisite in the early weeks of ownership.
It is into this world that Leica's X1 was born, its Spartan appearance making it stand out from the crowd. It is a beautiful example of minimization, devoid of all unnecessary controls and built to simply take still images.