Leica IIIa with Latest Custodian

[Benedictine]

Well here it is, my 80 year old Leica IIIa, loaded and ready. I have taken a few trial shots and for sheer gratifying enjoyment the reassuring idiosyncratic sound of that Leica shutter is unsurpassed, no digital camera can match it. My overwhelming feeling when I have the camera in my hands is one of privilege. In its 80 years this camera must have been witness to many remarkable sights and my speculation on to whom it belonged and where it has been is a diversion that is enjoyable but doomed to failure. Made in Germany was it bought by a German? Likely if not certain. The first owner must have been a keen photographer or why buy a Leica? It has obviously been looked after well and treasured by whoever in its lifetime owned it, (as it will be by the latest custodian) how did it make its way to England and eventually the midland city of Sheffield where I became its owner? Was it exported to the UK immediately or perhaps it crossed the channel in the hands of someone fleeing Hitler’s Germany?

The beautiful patina of the leather case is tactile; I hold it and feel connected to previous owners. Can objects be imprinted by those who handle them? When we hold something beautiful do we somehow transfer part of us to it? Certainly our DNA is easily left on things so why not aspects of our personality, our emotions and our feelings?

The camera already has ten years on me but barring catastrophic accidents I shall surely depart this world before it does and then what will happen to it? Perhaps someone in say another 80 years will hold it in their hands and say, “Well here it is, my 160 year old Leica IIIa, loaded and ready.”