Zhao Zhenguo, Author at i35mm

Leica M9 Review: The Last Dance of CCD Romance——A Love Letter to Digital Adolescence

The Kodak Swan Song

When Leica launched the M9 in 2009, it wasn’t just a camera – it was a paean to analog purity in a digital world. The first full-frame digital rangefinder, armed with Kodak’s custom-made CCD sensor, promised the spontaneity of Henri Cartier-Bresson in pixels. Fast forward to 2024: CCDs are extinct, CMOS reigns supreme, and the M9 has become a cult relic. But like vinyl records and manual typewriters, its flaws now read like poetry.

Analog Soul, Digital Skin

1. The Classicist’s Last Stand

Optical viewfinder: Physical frame lines illuminated by sunlight, just like M3/M6. The minimalist front of the later M240/M10? Heresy.
No “modern” nonsense: No Live View, no video, just raw photography. Menu? Three pages deep, max.

2. The Red Dot Rebellion

The M9 wasn’t Leica’s first digital (see: M8), but it was the first to feel like a Leica. Brass top plate, sapphire screens – luxury for the pre-Instagram era.

Leica MP Review: The Last Sentinel of Analog Mastery——Where Silence Speaks Louder Than Megapixels

The Unseen Virtuoso

In an era of computational photography, the Leica MP (2003-present) stands as a mechanical haiku—unapologetically analog, stubbornly silent. Designed not for the crowd but for the coven of purists, it whispers: “Film is not dead; it’s just selective.”

Design: Minimalism as Dogma

1. The Black Paint Enigma

MP’s matte-black finish—thinner than M3’s wartime lacquer—ages like a samurai’s armor. Brassing emerges not as decay, but as a map of journeys. Chrome versions? Eternal youth in a stainless steel sarcophagus.

2. Shutter Dial Tai Chi

The compact speed dial (1s-1/1000s) arranges numbers in yin-yang symmetry. Rotate clockwise to slow time, counterclockwise to hasten it—a tactile waltz even M3 purists envy.

3. Skin Deep

Leatherette: Fine-grained calfskin, echoing MP’s unadorned top plate. No garish logos, just “Ernst Leitz Wetzlar” in ghostly script.
Battery-Free Zen: Mechanical shutter thrives sans electricity; the meter (borrowed from M6) hums on two SR44s.

Leica M6 Review: The People’s Leica with Split Personalities——Where Pragmatism Meets Prestige

The Democratization of Luxury

Born in 1984, the Leica M6 was the brand’s first “everyman” rangefinder. Gone were the brass top plates of the M3/M4; in came zinc alloy, plastic counters, and TTL metering. Purists howled, but photographers voted with their wallets – 20 years of production (1984-2003) cemented its status as Leica’s best-selling M. The genius of the M6? It made the unattainable attainable by wrapping professional-grade optics in a blue-collar shell.

Leica M4 Review: The Black Paint Paradox——Where Engineering Meets Alchemy

Leica’s Last Mechanical Monarch

Born in 1967, the Leica M4 was the Swiss Army knife of rangefinders. It combined the elegance of the M3 with the practicality of the M2 and boasted the fastest film loading system in Leica history. But today it’s neither the most desirable (M3) nor the most accessible (M6). Instead, the M4 occupies an iconic middle ground – a tool for those who crave mechanical perfection with a dash of heresy.

Leica M2 Review: The 35mm Maestro of Serendipity ——Why a 1960s Relic Still Defines Street Photography

A Rebel with a Viewfinder

When Leica introduced the M2 in 1958, it wasn’t just a camera – it was a manifesto. Designed as the “poor man’s M3,” it quietly became the ultimate storyteller’s tool. Journalists, soldiers, and street photographers embraced it not for its prestige, but for its raw utility. The genius of the M2? It embraced imperfection. No motor drives, no light meters, just a brass-and-glass vessel for stolen moments. As Garry Winogrand quipped: “Photography is about finding out what can happen in the frame.” The M2’s 0.72x viewfinder became the oracle of that frame.

Leica M3 Review: The Mechanical Sonata That Redefined Photography——Why a 70-Year-Old Film Camera Still Reigns Supreme

When Engineering Becomes Art

Every century, a few objects are born that transcend utility-the Stradivarius violin, the Rolex Oyster, the Leica M3. Introduced in 1954, this brass-and-glass marvel didn’t just capture light; it crystallized the very soul of analog photography. While later M models chased convenience (the M4’s quick load, the M6’s meter), none could match the M3’s uncompromising craftsmanship. As Henri Cartier-Bresson explained: “The M3 became an extension of my eye. Today, it remains the gold standard for purists who believe cameras should be heirlooms, not gadgets.

Leica M8 Review: A Defiant Relic in the Mirrorless Age——Why a 2006 Digital Underdog Still Charms in 2025

The Contradiction

When the Leica M8 debuted in 2006, it was already an anachronism. With an APS-H sensor (27×18mm) and 10.2MP resolution, it lagged behind Canon’s 2005 12.8MP full-frame 5D. Nineteen years later, in an era where $2,500 buys a 60MP mirrorless powerhouse, this German digital oddity should make no sense. Yet here I am, still grinning every time I press its brass shutter button.

The M8 isn’t a tool – it’s a manifesto. It dares you to ask: What if joy mattered more than specs?

My Trusty Minolta 100-200mm f4.5: A Casual Review

Let me tell you about my little photography buddy – this Minolta 100-200mm f4.5 lens. It’s not the fanciest piece of equipment out there, but man, does it have character!

The Surprise Performer

I bought this lens used for $30 and thought I’d only use it occasionally, but it turned out to be my go-to lens for landscapes. The 200mm range is like putting binoculars on a camera. It turned out to be my go-to lens for landscapes. 200mm is like gluing a pair of binoculars to your camera. At the lake last month, it captured details the eye could never see! The maximum aperture of f4.5 isn’t super bright, but it keeps the lens tight and works well in daylight.

What I learn from Think Like a Street Photographer

It is impossible not to shoot, but it is equally futile to shoot without studying. Flipping through photo books isn’t about mining for answers – it’s about letting your mind tango with the streets. Quantity breeds quality; street photography thrives on the pendulum swing between relentless shooting and voracious viewing. As the volume swells, epiphanies drip like developer in a darkroom.

“Snapping” oversimplifies the craft, but its complexity dissolves when you carry a dog-eared notebook in your pocket. Flip it like a DJ scratches vinyl-not to imitate the masters, but to let each frame hum like a melody. Every photo is a song waiting to be remixed. Borrow the chorus, riff on the bridge, but always hum your own tune. After all, even cover bands stumble upon new grooves when the streetlights flicker to life.