Leica APO-Summicron
Some time back, a friend of mine (who goes by the initials AL) acquired a lens that blew my mind.
Not because it was great, because I didn’t get around to using it on my M and had not seen the output or signature.
Not because it was fast, because it was a mere Summicron (f2), while I already had the Summilux (f1.4).
Not because it had aspherical elements, because my 35mm Summilux and 50mm Summilux already had them.
Not because it was a collectors edition (it was not), or because it was rare (it was not either).
It blew my mind for what it cost. And it made no sense. Who in their right mind would pay almost $10,000 for a Summicron?
Over a month ago, I had the opportunity to purchase the new Leica M Monochrome (Typ 246). A good friend and photographer TS Sim had helped me with that acquisition (I’m a gearhead and love gear as much as I enjoy shooting, if not more) and along the way, I had the chance to try that insane lens — the Leica 50mm APO-Summicron.
It seemed impressive and handled well, certainly better balanced that the 50mm Summilux, for some off reason. And it was compact (I’ve learned to appreciate compact lenses like the 35mm Summicron v4 and the 28mm Elmarit)
But it was just too expensive and so I put it on my wish list.
A few weeks later, back in Dubai, I popped in to Salam Stores to pick up a Artisan & Artist Red Label messenger bag, and learned that they were able to get me a 50APO for a pretty good price, and after some quick number crunching, I committed to the purchase (I like to think of it as a bit of an investment, or so I keep telling myself — something I can pass on to my kids, but I’d want to be buried with it for sure).
After just 48 hours, I got a call informing me that the lens had arrived, and so I made my way to the store after work, through rush hour traffic.
The packaging of the 50APO is different from other Leica lenses. While ‘normal’ Leica lenses come in a small silver-and-black cardboard cube, packed in the leather cases that come standard with almost all the modern Leica lenses I’ve had the privilege of owning, the 50 APO comes in a different package.
It’s a larger box, almost like a presentation box, and only just a couple of inches smaller than the box my M246 came in, in which the lens box sits on its side, surrounded by a box containing the standard 39mm plastic lens cap, the and cylindrical leather case. Inside the lens box laid the 50APO (which obviously isn’t in the photos as it’s on the MM246 that I’m shooting these with) and a push-on lens cover.
Clearly (pun intended), this lens wasn’t supposed to be used with a filter (why put ‘inferior’ glass in front of what is supposed to be the most ‘perfect’ lens in the world?), so Leica kindly included this lens cap — it’s brass, it’s fascinatingly light, beautifully crafted, and costs a bloody $120 on B&H — and only fits on the 50 APO). Points to Leica for thinking of these little details.
Due to work (which pays for these indulgences), I hadn’t had much time to shoot with this lens until recently, and there are tons of reviews out there that already talk about how special this lens is.
One of the reviews (I forget which one) sums my feelings about the 50 APO best — it is a lens whose signature is the absence of one.
I can’t explain how this lens does it, but there’s a certain clarity, a transparency about it that none of my other lenses, Leica or otherwise, have. There’s a pop that has no right to be there, since it’s not a ‘lux of any kind, and a presence that is hard to define. I love this lens — it lives on my M246 right now. It’s small, light, and feels RIGHT.
I’ve yet to stick it on my M240, my M9P, or even the original Monochrom, but when I feel the need to experiment, I’ll probably get around to it.
Until then, I’m going to have some fun with this combination.
