Leica M6 A Rough Start
Well, I finally did it. I bought a Leica M6.
Countless nights spent drooling over eBay listings like a man with absolutely no financial self-control, I finally pulled the trigger. I’d spent so long looking at these things online that I’d almost convinced myself I needed one. Almost. Then I held it in my hands, and the first thing that came out of my mouth was, “Okay, I get it now.”
Annoyingly, I really did get it.
The build quality is a solid 10/10. My copy was made in 1997 and is somehow in practically brand-new condition, which is impressive considering I was born with the financial decision-making skills of a Victorian child in a candy shop.
I did, however, manage to buy the version with the .85 viewfinder without actually realising it was the .85 viewfinder. This is what happens when you impulse-buy something after spending too much time staring at listings. Research is important, apparently.
Still, I don’t see myself shooting much wider than 35mm anyway, so I’ve made my peace with it. Or, more accurately, I’ve decided that admitting I made a mistake would be emotionally inconvenient.
By this point, my wallet had been thoroughly emptied, so buying Leica glass was out of the question. Instead, I opted for the Mandler 35mm f/2, which happened to be in stock at the time. A small victory, really. Nothing says luxury photography quite like buying the camera of your dreams and then checking what’s left in your bank account for the lens.
The lens itself seems pretty decent. The build feels solid, and visually, it looks right at home on the M6. If you didn’t know it was a copy, I imagine you’d have a hard time telling the difference. Then again, I don’t own the original Leica version to compare it with, so I’m essentially reviewing it with the confidence of someone who has done very little research.
Focusing is smooth, the aperture ring clicks firmly into place, and everything feels reassuringly well made. Nice!
So far, I’m pretty happy with the setup. I’ve managed to acquire a camera I’ve wanted for ages, paired it with a lens I can actually afford, and made peace with a viewfinder I accidentally bought.
All in all, a successful purchase. Financially questionable, perhaps, but successful.
After mounting the lens, I headed out that morning for a little test shoot around town. The plan was to get reacquainted with shooting a rangefinder, something I hadn’t done since owning my Yashica Electro. Naturally, I decided the best way to ease myself back in was to immediately demonstrate that I’d forgotten how everything worked.
I loaded a roll of Kodak ColorPlus 200 the same way I would in any SLR-style camera. This, as it turns out, is not how you load an M6. A fairly important detail that would’ve been nice to know beforehand, but apparently reading instructions is for people who make sensible decisions.
Somehow, I managed to get it sorted and headed out to take a few photos. I shot about ten frames that morning, which isn’t exactly a productive session, but considering I was still figuring out how to operate the camera without accidentally sabotaging the entire roll, I’d call it a success.
The rest of the roll was shot on a trip out to the Oregon coast, which seemed like a good opportunity to put the M6 through its paces. Or, more accurately, to see how many things I could get wrong before lunch.
After finishing the first roll, I ran into some trouble rewinding the film. For whatever reason, the rewind knob seemed to be sitting higher than usual, almost as if it were coming loose. Naturally, I assumed I’d managed to break my brand-new (to me) Leica within the first roll. A promising start.
After a bit of fiddling around, I made the brilliant decision to open the back, exposing the film to daylight for roughly 30 seconds. A rookie mistake, really. Nothing like paying a premium for a camera just to give your photos a healthy dose of the sun before they’ve even been developed.
Eventually, I managed to get the film back into its canister and convinced myself that everything was probably fine. Probably.
I spent about 15 minutes trying to load a fresh roll in the beach parking lot. At this point, operating the camera was becoming more of a hobby than photography itself.
So, those are my first two rolls with the M6. To be perfectly clear, my hit rate with film isn’t particularly high, at least by my own standards. I’m still figuring out how to make film fit into my vision and the kind of work I want to create. So far, there’s been a fair amount of trial and error, with perhaps a little too much emphasis on the error.
Still, that’s part of the fun, I suppose. Either that, or a very expensive way to learn patience. I haven’t decided yet.
The photos were developed by Timeless Photo in Boise, Idaho, and scanned by me. So if anything looks questionable, I’ll happily take responsibility for at least half of it.
Cheers!
-EJ