It’s time to trim my collection of film cameras, and make room for newer entrants.
The Minolta Maxxum 9xi has to go – I like it but I can’t use it to its full potential unless I spend more money on a set of Minolta A lenses and, maybe, a flash. I already have 4 sets of lenses for as many different makes of cameras. That’s already one or two too many, I won’t add a fifth one.
The Olympus OM 2000 falls into the same category as my Nikon FM (a modern semi-auto SLR), and is also competing for my attention with an Olympus OM-2 and my beloved Nikon FE2 (which both have very good semi-auto modes). I know I won’t be using it and I need to find a better place for it.
The two cameras are currently listed on eBay. It took them for one last photo shoot …
One last round with the Minolta Maxxum 9xi
I don’t know what drove Minolta out of the photography market – the expensive (and ultimately lost) lawsuit against Honeywell over auto-focus patents, the APS format debacle, or their inability to get more than a tiny fraction of the “pro” market – but at some point they decided to throw the towel and sold themselves to Konica (forming Konica-Minolta). Two years later, Konica-Minolta stopped manufacturing film, and sold its photography line of business to Sony. It explains why current Sony a77 and a99 still work with the same Minolta lenses that the 9xi uses.
The Minolta autofocus SLRs designed for enthusiasts and pros were very pleasant to use and worked very well. The Maxxum 9xi is no exception. It falls very well into the hands, gets the exposure right, and does not impose an information overflow to the photographer. Being designed as a “pro” model, it’s very well made (better than the 700si, for instance) and still looks good (no panel gap, no sticky paint) after all these years. If you love the Minolta brand, or if you are an active Sony Alpha photographer, it’s a camera to have.
The Olympus OM 2000 is a Cosina-made semi-auto SLR, and has little in common with the rest of the Olympus OM family, except for its bayonet mount, of course.
It’s still an interesting camera – good looking, simple, with spot metering (in addition to the conventional weighted-average metering). A good introduction to the OM family of cameras, and a good backup for owners of an OM-3ti or OM-4ti who don’t want to risk damaging their expensive and sometimes temperamental camera in difficult situations.
The 600si was at the same time Minolta’s cheapest enthusiast auto-focus SLR, and the test bed for the ergonomics of the future Maxxum 9, 7 and 7d.
After the launch of the 700si – at a higher price point than its predecessor the 7xi, Minolta had a gap to fill in their line-up. And because they had taken heat about the user interface of their xi generation of cameras, they took the opposite route for the 600si.
The design of its interface was so well received that it served as a model for the high end Maxxum 9 and 7 launched at the end of the century. And its influence could still be felt in the Konica-Minolta 7d, and in more recent Sony digital SLRs.
High level, the 600si is a cheaper variant of the 700si, somehow spec’d down technically, with a very different user interface and a lighter build. Instead of being designed with a modal interface (press the FUNC button to access a menu, and navigate the menu with the control wheels), the 600si is covered with dedicated knobs and rings to control the flash, the exposure mode, exposure compensation, and the drive mode. In addition to which a few rotating switches control the auto-focus setup and the metering modes.
The Maxxum 600si is clearly engineered to a price point. Compared to the 9xi and the 700si, some components are one notch below, with a shutter limited to 1/4000 sec, an auto-focus sensor analyzing 3 zones instead of 4, no LCD overlay in the viewfinder and no “creative Card” slot. Fortunately, the camera retains a steel bayonet and the good long eye-point viewfinder of the higher end Minolta cameras. Minolta had cut cost intelligently.
The camera’s body is made of shiny black plastic, and the knobs and dials – in a dark shade of mat gray, look and feel extremely cheap – a bit like those of the low quality electronic devices you find in dollar stores. I’m not aware of any reliability issue specific to the 600si, so it must be better than it looks, but back in 1993 I would never have paid $500.00 for such a sorry looking camera, when the 700si was selling for only $100 more.
As for the interface, I’m not necessarily sold on the “one knob per function” type of ergonomics – I shot hundreds of rolls with a 700si and I never felt that its interface was getting in the way. I also played with a 9xi recently, and provided it’s set up to your preferences, it’s perfectly fine too. What really matters is your ability to verify at a glance how the camera is set up. If the top plate LCD is informative enough, it may be simpler to read it rapidly and know everything about the camera’s setup, than have to check each knob and switch individually.
The viewfinder is informative (with a lit up green LCD at the bottom of the focusing screen) and displays a very useful scale in semi-auto exposure mode. Interestingly, the 600si also operates stopped down in semi-auto mode with adapted lenses (using a M42 to Minolta A mount adapter) and is somehow usable with old Pentax Takumar lenses – (focusing manually is difficult through – the focusing screen of an auto-focus camera is not designed for that).
There is very little technical difference between the Maxxum cameras of the “6 to 9 segment” (7xi, 9xi, 700si, 600si, 800si), which were sold for the largest part of the nineties.
Metering and auto-exposure had reached their final form with the 14 segment “honeycomb” pattern of the 7xi, which would be retained on all models until the final Maxxum of 2004.
They share the same 3 or 4 sensor setup for the auto-focus, and still rely exclusively on the in-camera motor. The final models of 1999 and beyond (Maxxum 9 and 7) would adopt a different sensor module, and only the Maxxum 7 would gain the ability to work with ultrasonic (SSM) lenses.
Lastly, they all share the same viewfinder (penta-prism, enlargement, high eye point). When comparing the viewfinder with similar Canon and Nikon cameras, it does not look as bright on the 600si, but we’re really nitpicking here.
What’s my pick in the Minolta family, today ?
The Maxxum 9 and 7 are in a category of their own. They have unique characteristics (the all metal construction and the 100% viewfinder coverage for the Maxxum 9, the user interface for the Maxxum 7 with its large LCD display on the film door and its ability to use current Sony and Zeiss SSM lenses). They are purchased by photographers who want the very best of Minolta SLRs. And they still command top dollar.
Considering that there is no significant cost difference between rest of the Maxxum models – which are all more than 20 years old and are all selling for a few dozens of dollars at most, I would not consider any of the entry or mid level models; I would also avoid the quirky 7xi, and would limit my choice to a few cameras such as the 9xi, the 600si, the 700si and the 800si.
The 600si may be spec’d slightly below the three other models, but it does not really matter for photographers shooting film today – those are ancient cameras in any case and nobody will complain if they don’t shoot 6 frames per second. Any of those four cameras is very pleasant to use, and will produce well exposed pictures. The choice is primarily about your preferences regarding the user interface, and about your expectations when it comes to perceived build quality. Personally, I’ll stay with the 9xi.
What was my pick in the Minolta family, back then ?
Interestingly, when those cameras were on the shelves of the photo stores in the early nineties, I did not even consider the 9xi.
My first pick was the 7xi and its 28-105 Power xi Zoom. There is no doubt that the camera was making good pictures (autofocus and metering were top notch for the time) but it was eating its very expensive lithium batteries with an alarming regularity, the Power Zoom and the built-in flash popping up automatically were a pain, and there was no depth of field preview capability. I got rid of the Power xi Zoom after a few months, and replaced the 7xi with a 700si and its optional vertical grip 2 years later. With the grip, the 700si could run on conventional AA batteries. I liked the 700si a lot, and kept it until I switched from film to digital, in 2003.
When I bought the 700si, I never considered the 9xi (far too expensive, too big, too similar to the 7xi, with no way to support AA batteries that I knew of). And once I had the 700si, I was never tempted to “downgrade” to a 600si.
I introduced the Minolta Maxxum 9xi in a blog post a few weeks ago. The 9xi was a camera built to near pro quality standards, with a high end specs sheet (the fastest shutter on a 35mm camera, weather sealing, electric command of the depth of field preview), but its user interface and its internals were lifted from the 7xi, a camera designed for the average amateur more than the enthusiast photographer. It faced a difficult task:
In 1992, the lines had been drawn – pros and enthusiasts had already invested in their autofocus camera system, and it’s unlikely that a photographer having recently spent thousands of dollars in new autofocus bodies and lenses would have thrown everything away to enjoy the power-zoom gimmickery of Minolta’s new xi cameras.
It had a formidable competitor – Nikon’s N90. The N90 was positioned by Nikon as a prosumer camera, but this very serious and capable camera was often purchased by pros who needed a faster autofocus than what the F4 could provide, in a smaller and lighter body. The N90 was a very efficient tool, backed by a large range of lenses and an efficient pro support organization that Minolta did not have.
Shooting with the Minolta 9xi today
The industrial design of the 9xi is unique (one of the most beautiful examples of “bio-design” in the world of cameras), and its build quality is significantly better than its lesser Minolta siblings (7xi, 700si and 600si). That being said, the 9xi suffers from the usual limitations of the autofocus cameras of the 90s:
It’s piece of black plastic
It’s a battery hog (and needs an expensive 2CR5 Lithium battery)
It’s not excessively heavy but it is really very large
It’s loud when the camera is “hunting” to focus
It can’t work with the most recent lenses or flashes from Konica-Minolta or Sony. To be fair, a similar limitation applies to most of the Nikon autofocus SLRs of the same vintage, which have no real-life compatibility with Nikon’s current AF lenses (the ones deprived of an aperture ring).
Other limitations are more specific to the Maxxum xi generation:
the 9xi is controlled exclusively by a modal interface (a “Func” push button that you have to press once or twice to access different menus, two control wheels and a LCD, and almost no dedicated button).
hidden functions are only accessible by pressing a combination of buttons during the startup process. And they’re not always mentioned in Minolta’s documentation (I found out about one on them by reading the pages of a fellow blogger)
The last remaining issue is the choice of lenses, and the impact on the second hand market of Sony’s price policy.
No “pro” lens was available when the 9xi was launched. The issue finally started being addressed by Minolta in 1993, but the brand was always one or two steps behind Canon and Nikon when it came to adopting new technologies (such as the ultra-sonic motorization for the auto-focus).
Because Minolta was a brand only marginally popular with professional photographers, the f/2.8 pro zooms and the fast prime lenses never sold in huge quantities – probably a tiny fraction of what Canon and Nikon sold (*).
Sony’s current A series bodies still are 100% compatible with Minolta’s screw-drive lenses, and Sony’s current lens line up of full frame lenses is only addressing the very high end of the market. In other words, they’re very expensive. Therefore, there is a steady demand for cheaper lenses, and the second hand market does not have enough of the old Minolta prime lenses and of the old “Pro-zooms” to fulfill it.
High usage value, steady demand, relatively limited availability: the price of Minolta’s auto-focus lenses tends to be high on second hand market today.
The only really affordable lenses on the second hand market are consumer level zooms, and Minolta has a mixed record in that area – some of their zooms were good, but some of their entry-level products were really bad, much worse mechanically and optically than the entry level products of Canon or Nikon. Do your homework and pick carefully.
Comparing the 9xi with Nikon’s N90.
If you read the manual (and the forums), set the camera to your preferences, forget about the Power xi gimmickry and mount a conventional auto-focus lens, the 9xi’s behavior will not be that different from the prosumer body of reference, Nikon’s N90. Their interface could not be more dissimilar (the Nikon has one clearly identified button for each function), the Nikon looks more compact (even if it is only marginally smaller) and it works with AA batteries, but the performance of the cameras is comparable, and the photographer will have access to the roughly same set of functions.
Both cameras fall pleasantly into the hands of photographers, even if I tend to prefer the two control wheels of the 9xi to the single one gracing the top plate of the N90.
The eye point length and the enlargement of the viewfinders are also comparable, and perfectly adequate for photographers wearing glasses. There is a LCD overlay at the top of the focusing screen of the Minolta, to provide contextual information, such as the auto-focus point selected by the camera or the metering area selected by the photographer. It also shows the exposure scale when the camera is operating in semi-auto exposure mode. Unfortunately, the information is difficult to read in low light, and the LCD overlay could be one of the reasons why the viewfinder is not as bright and contrasty as in the N90. By a wide margin: the difference is really striking.
The Maxxum 9xi has no built-in flash, but in the early nineties no “pro” camera had one. That’s one of the reasons to prefer the 700si or 800si bodies: their built-in flash can be used to command other Minolta flash cobras wirelessly.
Buying a 9xi today?
Committed users of full frame Sony A series cameras (A850, A900, A99) will probably be more interested in the more recent Maxxum 7, which supports all current Sony lenses, including the SAM and SSM lenses with ultra-sonic motorized focus. The Maxxum 9 – the “pro” SLR from 1999 is also an interesting pick for users of Sony’s full frame digital bodies because of its outstanding build quality and its 100% coverage viewfinder, even if it’s not natively compatible with the new SAM or SSM lenses (some cameras have been retrofitted with an updated circuit board by Minolta’s customer service organization). The Maxxum 7 and 9 are the ultimate Minolta cameras and command a much higher price on the second hand market than the generations that came before.
For photographers just interested in setting a foot in the Minolta autofocus system, the 9xi is an interesting pick. Considering the low cost of all Minolta auto-focus SLRs on the second hand market today (except the Maxxum 7 and 9, of course), it makes little sense to settle for an entry-level model designed for beginners or amateurs such as the 3xi or the 400si. Go for a “pro” model for the same price.
The 9xi performs better than the previous generation of Minolta auto-focus cameras (7000, 9000, 8000i), it offers a few important features which are missing on the 7xi (depth of field preview, bracketing, programmable function button, ability to use a AA battery grip). It lacks their built-in flash and its interface is more cryptic, but it is better built than the 700si and 800si that followed without being inferior in terms of features or performance (**).
If you’re looking for a well built auto-focus film cameras with matrix metering, it’s perfectly adequate. The user interface is not to everybody’s taste, but when you get used to it, it works.
As mentioned above, finding good lenses at a good price is a challenge. And you can not mount any generic electronic flash on the camera. The 9xi (like all the Minolta, Konica-Minolta and Sony bodies until the A99 and the A6000) uses a proprietary Minolta accessory shoe. There are adapters, but they add to the budget and are a pain to use.
As usual for cameras which did not sell in huge numbers and have no particular claim to fame, there is no widely accepted price for the 9xi. Prices are all over the place, with some specialized stores in Japan asking for up to $800.00 for a nice 9xi, and the online store of a well know charity effectively selling them for less than $15.00.
(*) I noticed the same phenomenon when I was trying to find lenses for my Fujica AX-3 and AX-5 cameras a few months ago – wide angle prime lenses and luminous trans-standard zooms are extremely difficult to find, and reach prices in Leica or Zeiss territory. Brands like Fujica, which were not addressing the professional market, and catered primarily to price conscious amateurs, had a few high end lenses in their catalog for the prestige, probably developed for a few friends of the brand, but they were never widely distributed and are now extremely rare.
(**) To a large extent, the 700si was a Maxxum 9xi under a more conventional looking (and cheaper to build) body shell, with a few extra buttons and switches. With the 700si, Minolta got rid of the weirdest aspects of the 7xi, and made some of the features previously present on the 9xi (but undocumented) easier to configure. With an informed use of the boot process (restart the 9xi while pressing a few specific buttons), there are very few of the 700si new features that are really missing on the 9xi.
Instead of posting pictures of my dogs, I went back to the archives and found pictures taken in the mid nineties when I was shooting with a Minolta 700si (the closest cousin of the 9xi). My main lens was the Angenieux 28-70mm f/2.6-2.8, but I also used (rarely) the Minolta 50mm f/1.7, the famed beer can (AF 70-210 f/4) and a 35-200 xi power zoom. I liked the camera except for its bulk and weight, and ended up using a Minolta Vectis S-1 for my mountain hikes.
Ultimate: “last in a progression or series: final” (Source: Merriam-Webster)
Film cameras stopped selling in any significant quantity in the first years of this century – and the production of film cameras had almost completely ceased by 2008. But almost until the end, Canon, Minolta and Nikon kept on launching new models.
Most of those cameras were forgettable entry level models (their main justification was to occupy a lower price point than digital cameras), but a few high end models were nonetheless introduced.
The Canon EOS 3 (launched in 1998), the Minolta Maxxum 9 and the Nikon F100 (1999), the EOS-1v and the Maxxum 7 (2000), and last but not least the Nikon F6 (2004), were all at the pinnacle of film camera technology, and there will probably never be any new film camera as elaborate as they were.
They did not sell in large numbers. But they kept their value remarkably well, much better than the autofocus SLRs of the previous generation, and than the first mass market digital SLRs that replaced them in the bags of photographers.
Today, if you exclude the limited editions models that Minolta and Nikon had sometimes added to their product lines, it seems that for each of the big three Japanese camera manufacturers, the most expensive film camera on the second hand market is always their most recent high-end autofocus model.
Let’s look first at models launched at the very end of the film era, between the end of 1998 and 2004:
(source: eBay “sold” listings, body only, for a used camera in working order – I did not include “new old stock”, “Limited Editions”, “as-is”, “please read” and “for parts” listings.)
EOS1-V $350 to $800 launched: March 2000
EOS-3 $150 to $700 launched: November 1998
Minolta (excluding “Limited Series”)
Maxxum 9 $200 to $470 launched 1999
Maxxum 7 $150 to $230 launched 2000
F100: $200 to $400 launched 1999
F6 (second hand): $600 to $1,300 launched 2004
And let’s compare them with cameras of the generation that came just before
EOS 1n $100 to $300 launched November 1994
EOS Elan II $40 to $100 launched September 1995
Minolta 800si $45 to $60 launched 1997
Nikon F5 $150 to $300 launched 1996
N90S/F90x $40 to $150 launched 1994
The “ultimate” models sell for 3 to 5 times more than models that used to occupy the same place in the brand’s line-up, one generation before. Clearly for autofocus cameras, the most recent is also the most sought after, and the most expensive. A few reasons:
They have the highest usage value
Better performance – cameras of the ultimate generation are better machines – they focus faster and more accurately, the exposure is on the spot in more situations, under natural light and with a flash
Better compatibility with the current line of products of the brand (for example the Maxxum 7 accepts current Sony A lenses with ultrasonic motorization (Sony SSM lenses), and the Nikon F100 can work with lenses deprived of an aperture ring (Nikon AF-S lenses). Older models can’t.
There is an expectation that the cameras will be more reliable (they’re more recent, probably have been through fewer cycles, and their electronics components are most certainly better designed than they were in cameras of the previous decade).
Highest potential in collection
For bragging rights: “the most advanced film camera – ever”
For nostalgia: “the last film camera made by … Minolta”
Rarity: cameras launched in 1999 or in 2000 had a very narrow window of opportunity on the market – Nikon D1 launched mid 1999, the Fujifilm S1 Pro and the Canon D30 in the first months of year 2000 – and from there on the writing was on the wall. When the Maxxum 7 or the EOS-1V were launched in 2000, most enthusiast and pro photographers were already saving money for a future (and inevitable) Maxxum 7d or Canon EOS-1d. The last high end film cameras must not have sold in huge quantities.
How are the “ultimate” film cameras doing compared to the first digital models?
The ultimate film cameras are more expensive than corresponding digital cameras sold in the first years of the 21 century – remember, those were dSLRs with 6 MPixel APS-C sensors at best, with mediocre low light capabilities and a narrow dynamic range. They have a relatively limited usage value today (a smartphone does much better in many situations).
Are buyers of manual focus cameras also looking for the “ultimate”?
No. Not really.
T90 $60 to $250 launched 1986
A-1 $60 to $250 launched 1978
EF $90 to $140 launched 1973
FA $50 to $350 launched 1983
FE2 $70 to $400 launched 1983
F3 $120 to $1,000 launched in 1980
Nikon EL2 $60 to $275 launched 1977
To my taste (and for many lovers of film cameras), manual focus film SLRs reached their peak sometime between 1977 and 1983 – before the massive introduction of electronics, motors and poly-carbonate led to the monstrosities such as the Canon T50. What contributes to the value of manual focus SLRs today?
Models produced around the turn of the eighties still have a real usage value.
Buyers of manual focus cameras tend to value simplicity and direct control of exposure parameters over complexity and automatism – semi auto exposure cameras often sell for more than auto-exposure cameras.
They also value the beauty of machines built out of brass and steel, using cogs and springs rather than integrated circuits and solenoids.
The reliability of the electronics integrated in the final manual focus cameras is a concern – the electronic components did not always age well, and engineers made bad decisions (like soldering capacitors or batteries on printed circuits or using magnets instead of springs to control the shutter or the aperture).
Therefore, the very last manual focus cameras are often not as well regarded as the generation just before. In spite of being massively superior technically and much more pleasant to use, the T90 is not valued more than its predecessor the A-1 because of concerns over its excessive complexity and questionable reliability. Similarly, Nikon’s FA does not extract any premium over the simpler FM2 and FE2, because its embryo of matrix metering is perplexing. And I won’t mention the Canon T50 or the Pentax a3000, which can not stand the comparison with the AE-1 or the ME Super, if only for esthetical reasons.
Potential in collection
Manual focus cameras from the big camera brands were often produced by the millions (Canon AE-1, for instance). Other models sold in smaller numbers but over a very long production run (Olympus OM-4t, Nikon F3, for example). The usual law of supply and demand applies, but generally speaking, rarity is not a significant factor in the value of most of those cameras.
Only special edition models in pristine condition can be expected to be worth more than a few hundreds dollars – for the foreseeable future.
The price of used film cameras on eBay is racing to the bottom. No brand is immune – not even Nikon or Leica – only a few models seem to be worthy of the consideration of the buyers and still sell for more than $100.00:
single digit Nikon F models,
Nikon FM2 or FM3A,
Contax 159mm or ST,
pristine and tested Canon T90 or Canon New F-1,
all rangefinder cameras from Leica and a few of their SLRs,
Olympus OM-3t / OM-4t.
The very last high end film auto-focus SLRs of Canon, Minolta and Nikon – such as the EOS-3 and EOS-1 V, the Maxxum 7 and 9, and the F100 and F6 – are also in a a category of their own. As the “ultimate” film SLRs, very close technically from the current dSLRs of the same brand, they can be sold for anything between $200.00 and $2,000.00.
The rest is trending towards being virtually free, and autofocus SLRs fare even worse than manual focus bodies: I recently paid $3.25 for a nice N6006, a Nikon SLR from the early auto-focus era and $15.00 for a beautiful Minolta 9xi with a good lens, its original catalog and user manual. We already passed the point where the shipping costs exceed the sale price of the camera, and where a set of batteries can be many times more expensive than the camera itself – the lithium battery of the N6006 cost me $12.00, almost 4 times the price of the camera.
For the photographer starting to shoot with film, there has never been a better time to buy a good camera on the cheap. Collectors are more attracted by pro or high-end cameras which were expensive when new, and still are in top condition. The “last pro or last high-end film cameras manufactured by a given brand…” fare particularly well: a tested and working Pentax LX, a beautiful Olympus OM-4Ti or a Canon EOS-1 V are relatively rare and can sometimes reach prices between $400 and $1,000.
SLRs originally positioned as mid level cameras for enthusiasts or experts provide the best opportunities, in particular if you’re willing to accept a few scratches or blemishes on the body: they tend to be much more usable than entry level cameras (they’re almost as feature rich as the high end models, if not as solid), but don’t catch the attention of the collectors because they’re too ordinary and too easy to find.
On my short list of recommended cameras:
Manual Focus cameras: strangely enough, manual-focus cameras from big brands tend to be more expensive than most of their auto-focus SLRs.
Although not as expensive as a T90, a FM3A or an OM-4Ti, the three cameras listed below can still command prices in the $70.00 to $100.00 range. They are very competent tools, they benefit from a large supply of good lenses, and are a great way to move one step higher with film photography:
You can find cheaper manual focus alternatives – the Olympus OM-2000 is one of my $5.00 cameras, but I’d be more prudent with brands like Fujica (and other brands which did not have strong following on the expert or enthusiast markets). Not that they did not make good cameras – but good lenses are going to be more difficult to find – and without a set of good lenses, a SLR camera is not really worth having.
Auto-focus Cameras: manufactured in the early to mid-nineties by the big four (Canon, Nikon, Minolta, Pentax), they are mature technically, with a good multi-sensor auto-focus, matrix metering, and a long eye point viewfinder. The lenses are still somehow compatible with the current dSLRs of the brand – and they’re incredibly cheap. A few examples of the “expert” or “enthusiast” category:
Auto-focus cameras designed for amateurs (such as the Minolta 3xi or the Nikon N6006) are the cheapest of them all, but the price difference with the “expert”, “enthusiast” or “prosumer” model of the same brand is minimal (the price of their disposable Lithium battery, roughly). Don’t hesitate. Go for the top of the line.
As usual, I only recommended cameras I’ve used and liked. I’m sure there are very good auto-focus cameras from Canon (EOS mount), and great manual focus cameras from Minolta (MD mount) or Pentax (K mount). They’re all supported by a great line of lenses and will also constitute very good buys.
One last word…of caution
When you buy a camera for less than $5.00, you don’t always win.
shopgoodwill.com is a very good source for cheap equipment, but you have to consider it’s sold as is, by people who – generally – have absolutely no clue of what they’re selling and can’t describe it in any useful way. To me, it has been a bit of a hit and miss – cameras from the 90s (the Olympus OM-2000, the Minolta 9xi, the Nikon N90s) were diamonds in the rough, and after a good cleaning, they worked perfectly. Older cameras (a Spotmatic, a Fujica AX-3) were broken and could not be fixed. The older the camera, the riskiest it gets. But most cameras are sold with a lens, and even if the camera is defective, the value of its lens alone sometimes makes buying the set a good deal.
eBay – thanks to the system of feedback, sellers tend to describe their items with some level of accuracy. In my experience, if you stick with sellers with an almost perfect feedback score (99% or better), and read the item description extremely carefully, you won’t be disappointed.
There is no clear and widely accepted definition of what a “Pro” photographer is.
But for practical reasons, camera manufacturers have one. Canon, Nikon and Sony have a dedicated support organization for Pros. The admission criteria is somewhat different for each brand, but, high level, they all consider that a Pro photographer has to derive most or all of its income from photography, and owns a few high end camera bodies and lenses of the brand. At the top of that, Sony also asks for samples of the photographer’s work before granting admission.
Who was manufacturing “pro” cameras in the time of film?
In the days of film, Canon and Nikon clearly were the vendors of choice for pro photographers. At some point, Minolta and Pentax had modular SLRs in their product line (the XM and the LX), but those cameras were a one off – Minolta and Pentax never developed a family of pro SLRs over the long run, the same way Nikon developed the F series and Canon the F-1/EOS-1 product lines.
Minolta, Pentax, Olympus (and even Fujica) probably had many bona fide professional photographers among their customers. But they did not have Canon or Nikon’s presence in big events like the Olympic Games or the Soccer World Cup. And they did not have the lenses and accessories that professional photographers needed (or thought they might need one day).
The power of 9
The closest Minolta came to having a line of pro SLRs was its series of Maxxum autofocus cameras, starting with the Maxxum 9000 in 1985, followed by the Maxxum 9xi in 1992 and the Maxxum 9 in 1999 – remote predecessors of Sony’s high end dSLRs (Alpha 900) and mirrorless cameras (A9).
The 9000 was launched a few months after the revolutionary Maxxum 7000, the first technically and commercially successful autofocus SLR. The 7000 was the “prosumer” model, and the 9000 was supposed to target the “pros”.
Minolta replaced the 7000 with the 7000i in 1988 (relatively similar, but faster), and enriched the product line with the 8000i (a 7000i with a better viewfinder). In 1991, the 7000i was replaced by the 7xi with even more automation (xi stands for “eXpert Intelligence”), and in 1992 a new 9xi replaced both the 8000i and the 9000.
The 9xi was an expensive camera in 1992, with a US list price of $1190, which probably translated into a $650 street price at retailers such as B&H and Adorama. Minolta was very ambitious – its price placed the 9xi in the same ballpark as the Nikon N90, at a much higher level than any Canon SLR bar the EOS-1, which was selling for $1099 (street price).
xi : eXpert Intelligence, fuzzy logic
With its Maxxum line of autofocus SLRs, Minolta was genuinely trying to make photography simpler. In the early eighties, manufacturers had tried to attract new customers for their lines of reflex cameras by removing features – hoping that stripped down SLRs would be less intimidating for people who were just looking for a camera delivering better pictures than a point and shoot. They failed – those simplified SLRs (Canon AV-1, Pentax MV, Nikon EM) were still complex for the average amateur – they offered no program mode for auto-exposure, and still required the user to know how to focus and to load the film. They were too complex compared to a motorized/autofocus point and shoot, and at the same time too primitive to guarantee good results to amateurs ignorant of the technical fundamentals of photography.
The success of the Maxxum 7000 proved that if you added more automation to make SLRs easier to use (automatic film load, auto-rewind, programmed exposure, and of course, auto-focus) customers would come in droves.
Beyond all the buzz-words and the marketing verbiage – ”expert intelligence”, “fuzzy logic” – the Maxxum i and xi cameras introduced features that we still find in today’s digital cameras – matrix metering with a large number of metering cells, predictive AF, info provided on an overlay over the matt screen in the viewfinder, eye sensor to wake up the camera, scene modes and wireless flash control. Other ideas did not stick because they were too weird (automatic zooming), too cumbersome to use (expansion cards giving access to scene modes or extra features), or too irritating for technically savvy photographers (no direct access to exposure and metering modes, built-in flash that automatically pops up).
Power XI zooms – automation pushed to the absurd
The xi cameras were compatible with the “normal” Minolta A series autofocus lenses, but were designed to work with a new line of Power XI zooms. The main difference was that zooming was motorized. When the camera was powered on, it set the zoom automatically to the focal length best suited to the scene, and in some scene modes, the camera could even override the photographer and reframe the picture on its own. Pretty radical at the time.
In retrospect, the Power XI zooms happened to be a distraction for Minolta. They were not widely accepted on the marketplace, and consumed engineering resources that could have been used to develop a line of “pro” lenses. When they launched the 9xi in 1992, Minolta did not have any of the lenses of the pro-trifecta: the f/2.8 constant aperture wide angle, trans-standard and tele-objective zooms that professional photographers tend to use. The “Pro” zooms would arrive in time for the launch of the 700si, but too late for the 9xi.
The fate of the xi series
I don’t have access to sales figures, but I does not look like the 9xi, the Power xi zooms, and the xi product line in general were very well received on the marketplace. The 7xi was replaced with the 700si after a very short sales career of only two years. The Power XI zooms were discontinued at the same time, and replaced with conventional non-motorized lenses. The buying public did not root for the design of the 7xi, and did not see the benefit of power zooms. It can also be argued that the 7xi had been crippled to leave room for the 9xi (it lacked the depth of field preview, exposure bracketing, a programmable function button, and the ability to use AA batteries with in a grip) – all features that enthusiast photographers expected from this class of camera, and present on the 9xi.
With the Maxxum 700si, Minolta addressed the concerns of the enthusiasts about the feature set, made the interface more configurable, and returned to a pleasantly conventional design. But in the process they also made the 700si much closer to the 9xi, whose only remaining differentiator was its weather sealing.
The 9xi remained on Minolta’s catalog for a few years – as a signpost to confirm that Minolta still had ambitions in the “Pro” market.
Was the 9xi a “pro” camera?
In the early nineties, Minolta only had a marginal presence in the “Pro” market, and its line of auto-focus lenses and its support organization were not on par with Canon or Nikon.
Was the 9xi so significantly better than its competition, or so innovative, that it could lure a large number of Pro photographers into abandoning the Nikon and Canon systems? Would the Pros take a leap of faith with Minolta, hoping the brand would beef up its product line and its support organization as more of them became Minoltians?
At the time, the market’s answer was “no”. It would take the revolution of mirrorless, and Sony’s introduction of the A7 to finally see a product of the Minolta-Konica-Sony family encroach Canon and Nikon’s duopoly in the world of professional photography.
Most photo labs propose scans in 3 resolutions: 1000×1500, 2000×3000, 4500×6700. The scans are saved as jPEGs, with some labs also offering to save 4500 x6700 scans as TIFF files.
In theory, those resolutions correspond to an image of 1.5 Million points (1.5 MP), 6 MP, and 30 MP respectively. In general,
1000x 1500 scans – when available – are virtually free (they’re included in the processing costs by some labs such as thedarkroom.com )
2000 x 3000 scans cost roughly $5 for a full roll (in addition to the processing costs), or .50 per individual image scanned
4400 x 6700 scans cost roughly $11 to $12 per full roll (in addition to the processing costs), or 3.00 per individual scan
4400 x 6700 (TIFF) are the most expensive at $21 per full roll (oldschoolphotolab.com)
Storage constitutes an indirect cost – which doesn’t hurt until you run out of disk space, and have to upgrade your PC, your home NAS or you online backup plan. But if storing 36 images at 1.5 Mbytes will not break your storage budget, 36 high res TIFF images represent almost 3 Gbytes. The exact size of a JPEG file is difficult to predict (JPEG is a lossy compression format), but in general, the file size of each type of scan falls within those brackets:
1000x 1500 – JPEG -1.5 to 2 Mbytes
2000 x 3000 – JPEG – 3 to 4 Mbytes
4492 x 6776 -JPEG – 12 to 16 Mbytes
4492 x 6776 (TIFF) – 80 MBytes / image
I wanted to have a few pictures I had taken a long time ago scanned, and I asked the lab to scan some images in 2000 x 3000, and some in 4400 x 6700. The pictures had been taken with a Minolta 7xi and the famous Angenieux 28-70 f/2.6-2.8 zoom, on Fuji Reala film (the 100 ISO “professional” color film Fujifilm were selling at that time). The pictures had originally been enlarged on photographic paper, and I expected the scans to be good.
I also had a series of images taken recently with a zoom from the early seventies, that had been scanned by the lab at 1000 x1500, that I asked the lab to rescan at 2000 x 3000.
Once the jPEGs were ready, I downloaded them in iPhone and iPad photo galleries, in Photoshop and Lightroom on a laptop, and on WordPress, in order to compare the perceived quality. A reminder of the resolution of a few devices compared to print.
iPhone 5 S Retina photo gallery : 1136x 640 (720,000 points) at 326ppi
9.7 in iPad Retina Photo gallery: 2048 x 1536 (3,000,000 points) at 266 ppi
Print 8 x 10: 2400 x 3000 points or 7.2 million points at 300ppi
the pictures of this blog are generally saved for the “Large” format proposed by WordPress, at 1024 x 680, corresponding to 600,000 points.
Scan at 1000×1500 or 2000×3000 ?
on an iPhone, on a 4×6 print, or in a blog supporting 1024 x 680 images (such as this one), there is no visible difference between 1500 x 1000 and 3000 x 2000 scans.
For all larger screen or print formats (9.7′ iPad Retina, laptop, 8×11 print, blogs offering to view images at native resolution) the difference between a scan at 1.5 Million points and a scan at 7 Million points is very visible, unless the original is very poor (low lens resolution, very grainy film, subject slightly out of focus, operator shake at slow shutter speeds). It’s even more visible if you crop the image, even slightly.
Scan at 2000×3000 or 4400×6700 ?
on an iPhone, iPad 9.7′ Retina or on a 8×11 print – the difference is not really visible.
Above that (13 x 20 prints, for instance), the theoretical difference in resolution does not necessarily translate into a difference in print quality: a 13 x 20 print represents 24 million points at 300 ppi and the 6 million of points of a 2000×3000 scan should theoretically be overwhelmed, but practically the resolution of the film and of the lens play their part, as the technical limitations of the photographer (focus, shake) do. Large prints are often framed and hung on a wall, and you don’t look at a picture on a wall the same way you look at a 8 x 10 print you hold in your hand. And all technical considerations taken apart, with some subjects, images scanned at 2000×3000 may look as good as images taken at 4492×6770 – it depends on the contrast and quantity of fine details in the subject.
Scanning at 2000×3000 is a good compromise for 35mm film, and my choice when I have film processed. It works fine with any support I use day to day (iDevice, laptop, 8 x 11 prints), is not too expensive and generally produces a visible difference with the 1000×1500 scans.
If I wanted to print a really great picture, an image compelling from an artistic point of view and almost perfect technically (fine grain film, sharp lens, subject in focus, no shake), I would have it scanned at the 4492 x6776 resolution, and saved as TIFF. It would give me no guarantee that the print would be great (there are so many variables), but it would give me the best chances of success.