When in the 1990s digital photography allowed everyone to “take pics”, the market for mechanical cameras, lenses and other paraphernalia became inundated with classics no one wanted anymore. At some point, one could get watchmaker quality professional cameras from the 1950s and 1960s cheaper than the film needed to shoot them. And online selling gave the chance for all those Soviet cameras and lenses, many in inoperable condition, to be available to those of us for whom photography was all about using light and shadows as we wanted it, rather away from Artificial Intelligence and software caprices.
So I bought many cameras that I could not afford before ranging from a few Leica IIIF, Rolleiflex TLRs, a Hasselblatt, A couple of Mamiya 645s, lovely Nikon Fs, Minolta Autocords, Canon rangefinder cameras and of course Soviet cameras from the 1950s and 1960s. The latter came with bagfuls of lenses the sellers enticed camera buyers with “Contax copy” and “Leica copy” aluminum bodied gems. And that gave my curiosity a new opportunity, which was learning how to make one good lens out of parts from 3 or 4 others!
Then came a new temptation – could these practically free lenses, with amazing glass and all metal bodies be fitted on cameras for which their original lenses cost more than all the equipment I had in my darkroom?
And I was not alone. Photographers and engineers from around the world started posting on the Web about their experiences with modifying amazing Soviet lenses from the 1950s and 60s to fit German and Japanese classic cameras. Of course this was before today’s hi-tech adapters that allow approximate fitting of these lenses even if often do not focus at infinity.
I have read most of the postings over the past 20 years. Even after significant effort to make a Soviet lens focus perfectly on a Leica (or a Leica mount Japanese camera like Canon rangefinders) most of the resulting photos are “soft”. In technical terms softness is the result of the lens focusing in front or behind the subject.
Why? First the construct of the lens differs from Soviet to German. Specifically, Soviet rangefinder lenses have a round cam while the Leica lenses have flat cams. That makes a difference in the trajectory of the cam when the lens focusing ring is rotated. Second, the internal construct of the lenses vary using one or more helicoids, making the linkage between the cam movement and the actual focus adjustment vary between the lens and the camera.
The best explanation, for those who are technically inclined, is by Dante Stella here:
https://www.dantestella.com/technical/compat.html
Knowing all this, why did I try to adjust a 1960s Yupiter-9 (Jupiter-9) Soviet 85mm lens to my Leica IIIF? Delusional thinking perhaps, but also because I wanted to see if the incorrect focusing can yield uniqueness in street photography.
First, here is the Yupiter on my Leica. Aesthetically, and with the round auxiliary viewfinder atop the camera, I think it looks like a time machine! If my approximate calculation is correct, there are more than 550 individual parts between the camera and the lens. And the purple, thick Soviet glass looks wonderful…
I did disassemble the lens and adjusted the shims. To my surprise I could see the Leica focusing what seemed perfectly between 2 meters and infinity. I had to test the new arrangement by taking it along to a Classic Corvette car show downtown. My goal was to take photos where there were people at different distances in one frame. Such as folks on the foreground at about 10 meters, then others between 10 and 20 meters, and the last group 25 or more meters or almost an infinity setting on the focusing ring.
After a while three cowboys arrived to check the corvettes. It was a perfect moment when one cowboy was at about 10 meters sandwiched between folks in the foreground and those 25 or more meters behind him. I focused on the cowboy and was eager to develop the negative (I had rolled a short negative strip of about 5 frames just to test the lens.)
When I looked at that frame take shape on paper in the developing tray, I knew how many before me had felt! Yes, it looked like perfect focusing in the viewfinder but that is an illusion. As Dante Stella said, the Leica now was focusing perfectly on the background not the subject, the cowboy, I had focused on.
The printed “experiment photo” is atop this page.
Yet, in the past I have had excellent results with a 1950s Industar on this Leica and a 135mmYupiter-11 on a 1954 Canon L with good results perhaps because it is a much simpler design lens than the 85mm Yupiter-9. Here is the 1950 Industar lens which I also sometimes use on my enlarger which has a Leica mount.
The only time this has worked was in using 50mm Industar lenses from 1950 (uncoated) and one from 1964 (coated). I have even displayed such shots at photo exhibits surprising photographers who use Leica lenses. Here is that lens:
And, to my delight, sometimes these lenses produce unpredictable but lovely effects. Here is one with a 1970s Industar. I focused on the dog lens wide opened (f3.5) and got this dreamy background blur.
In conclusion, I would not advocate pursuing such Frankensteining attempts between a Leica rangefinder camera and a Soviet rangefinder lens if my goal was to take predictable photos. But, for those moments when I feel like playing with the unknown and ready for surprises, it is perhaps an experience every photographer should indulge by losing all control over focusing or telling the story I had in mind.
Now, there will be a new story to tell.
September 27, 2021
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2021
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