A LIFE IN LEICA · 001

On vintage lenses, independent Leica stores, and the people who keep the history of the M system alive.

Two early Leica I Model A cameras converted to rangefinder models, retaining their original Anastigmat and Elmax lenses. From the historical Leica collection of David Stephens of Leica Store Manchester. — Two exceptionally rare early Leica conversions from David Stephens' collection. Both began as Leica I Model A cameras and were later converted to rangefinder models while retaining their original lenses. No. 140 features the Anastigmat lens, while No. 318 retains the Elmax. A fascinating piece of early Leica history.

A different kind of Leica store

David Stephens carefully working on a Leica M3 at his home workbench, surrounded by original Leica repair tools and camera components. — David Stephens working on a Leica M3 at his home workshop. Surrounded by original Leica tools and carefully arranged components, he approaches the mechanical construction of these cameras with the precision and patience of a surgeon.

There are Leica stores where you go to buy a camera, and then there are places where you go to talk about cameras, discover their history and, if you are lucky, handle something you never expected to see in person. Leica Store Manchester is one of those places.

That has a lot to do with David Stephens. I had crossed paths with David at many Leica events and camera fairs over the years, having first been introduced to him by my good friend Patrik Toussaint of PT Collectibles. But it was during one of the first Wetzlar Camera Auctions that we really got talking. We quickly found common ground in our appreciation of the original Noctilux-M 50mm f/1.2. Our conversations moved between auction prices, collecting and investment, but always came back to the more interesting question: what do we actually do with the lenses we collect?

I remember buying an original 35mm f/1.4 Summilux v1 Steel Rim from David. During my first visit to his home, I noticed that one part of the lens wasn't properly tightened. David took out his tools, carefully placed the lens on the table with protection underneath it, and began unscrewing it to check and tighten everything. It was a small gesture, but one that stayed with me. This was more than simply selling someone a rare lens. David wanted to make sure it was right. That kind of personal attention is something you don't find in every camera store.

That moment at his home was a small glimpse of a relationship with Leica that goes back much further than my own. To understand David's connection with the brand, you have to go back to where it all began.

A life with Leica

David's story with Leica began long before the store, the auctions and the remarkable collection he has assembled over the years.

His father started out as a wedding photographer around 1958, and by around 1960 the studio had gradually become a used camera business. His father began working with Leica around 1965, and a few years later David accompanied him and the rest of the family on a trip to Wetzlar.

He was only nine when he first visited the old Leica factory, in 1967 or 1968. He remembers walking into the reception building, now the Rathaus, overwhelmed by the size of the place and slightly intimidated by a language he couldn't understand. Looking back, he finds it remarkable that the boy who visited Wetzlar all those years ago would still be returning to the home of Leica nearly sixty years later.

When the family returned home, his father gave him a black Leica II with an Elmar 50mm lens. That gift marked the beginning of his own lifelong passion for the brand.

David Stephens in Wetzlar | Leica M-EV1 Prototype and Noctilux 35mm — *David Stephens in Wetzlar, photographed during the Leica 100 years celebrations with the Noctilux-M 35mm f/1.2 ASPH mounted on a prototype of the Leica M-EV1, then known as the M11-V.*

At thirteen, David returned to Wetzlar with his father and a group of his father's clients for a Leica Schule at the old factory. Over three days, tutors Rüdiger Kraut and Kai Anderson taught them about the new Leica M5. David was even trusted to take a camera and a Noctilux 50mm f/1 out into the streets of Wetzlar. For a thirteen-year-old with such an interest in cameras, that must have been quite an experience.

There was even a chance that Leica might become his career. At sixteen, David was offered an apprenticeship at the company, provided he could learn German at school. His school refused, however, because he wasn't doing well enough in French. It is an extraordinary detail, and one that makes you wonder how differently his story might have unfolded.

Instead, David joined his father's business in Salford, north of Manchester, in 1976. His working life with Leica began on the other side of the counter, buying and selling cameras rather than collecting them.

Back then, the market looked very different. There was no internet, and Leica dealers were far more numerous, with David recalling more than 500 retailers across the UK alone. Collecting rare pieces wasn't the same business it is today. His focus was on the trade itself, and some remarkable cameras passed through his hands.

Looking back, he sometimes wishes he had kept a few of them. He remembers the example of a Null series Leica that could have been bought for around £60,000 in those days and which, according to David, might now fetch more than £4 million. As a friend of his likes to say, we all know the result of a race thirty minutes after it finishes. David laughs at the thought of the cameras he sold, but there was a business to run. As his father told him early on, you can't eat cameras.

David spent much of his working life buying and selling cameras, while my relationship with Leica has developed largely through photography itself. I'm interested in what a lens can bring to an image, how it renders a face or responds to light. David is drawn to the equipment itself, its construction, its history and the details that might escape someone who simply picks up a camera and starts shooting. I think that difference is part of what makes our conversations so enjoyable. I can show him what these lenses mean to me as a photographer, while he helps me understand the history and craftsmanship behind them. We both come away having discovered something new.

David's son Ben now runs Leica Store Manchester, while David remains active in the Leica world, attending auctions and events and keeping in touch with collectors, historians and dealers around the world. The business has changed considerably since David's early years in the trade. Today, the store sells far more modern equipment, including the Q and D-Lux ranges, alongside digital M cameras and lenses, while the market for classic film bodies such as the M2 and M3 is much smaller than it once was. Ben has also developed the online side of the business, which now accounts for a larger share of sales. Customers still come into the store for advice, to learn how to use equipment they have bought online, and to attend workshops. David and Ben continue to train the team, and that knowledge remains an important part of the store's identity.

A collection with a story behind it

I have visited David at home twice, where he and his partner Julie welcomed me into their home. They live a little outside Manchester, in the countryside, in a peaceful spot surrounded by fields and with very little traffic. Julie even prepared breakfast for me, a thoughtful gesture that made me feel very much at home. It is the sort of place where you can slow down, sit down for a proper conversation and lose track of time talking about cameras and lenses.

I have seen some wonderful Leica collections, but David's has something that makes it stand apart: original factory tools and repair equipment. He once came across a remarkable group of tools, test equipment, spare parts and accessories from the pre-war Wetzlar factory, many of them saved from being thrown away. Box after box revealed objects that might otherwise have disappeared, giving a glimpse into the practical work that kept Leica cameras and lenses in service.

David's interest in Leica history also led him to recreate Oskar Barnack's desk, inspired by the famous photograph of Barnack at work. It is not simply a display of historical objects. The desk tells a story about the person behind the camera: the tools, the magnifying glass, the working space and the quiet concentration involved in solving problems by hand and eye. The project is explored in more detail in an article on Chats Photography, “Barnack’s Desk: Reconstructing a Mind at Work”.

What makes David's collection interesting to me is that these objects tell the story of Leica beyond the cameras and lenses themselves. They offer a glimpse into how the equipment was made, repaired and developed. David isn't simply collecting what has survived. He's preserving a part of the company's working history.

David has a particular fondness for early nickel-finished lenses, especially uncoated examples such as the Summar and the pre-war Xenon. His interest is not limited to owning them. He also uses them on his digital SL to understand how they render an image, particularly wide open. He is drawn to the differences between individual lenses, their optical character and the fact that a handmade lens from that era could have qualities that are difficult to reproduce exactly today. He has a particular interest in 50mm Leica lenses, following their development from the early Anastigmat and Summar designs through to the Summarit. For David, using these lenses is part of understanding them.

What fascinates David is not just the finished camera, but how all its parts came together. He looks at the early Leicas almost as he might look at a fine mechanical watch: the brass, the engravings, the helicoids, the switches and the small spring-loaded mechanisms, all working together in a remarkably compact body.
He wonders about the people behind them, the engineers who turned ideas and drawings into working cameras, and how much of the manufacturing was done in and around Wetzlar. For him, the early Leica is a reminder of what skilled engineers and craftsmen could achieve at a time when Germany was rebuilding itself. The more he takes these cameras apart and studies them, the more there is to appreciate.

That difference between technical perfection and character also comes up when David talks about Leica's heritage lenses. He remembers customers bringing the reissued Noctilux-M 50mm f/1.2 back to the store because they felt it wasn't sharp enough. His response was that sharpness was never the whole point of that lens. Understanding what a heritage design is meant to do, and what makes its rendering distinctive, is part of knowing whether it is right for you. It is a useful reminder that an older optical design should not always be judged by the same expectations as a modern lens.

David also feels that some vintage lenses have become overlooked as attention and prices concentrate on a small number of famous models. The pre-war Xenon is one he believes deserves more attention, offering a distinctive vintage rendering without the price tag of a rare Noctilux-M 50mm f/1.2. He also has a soft spot for the Summilux-M 35mm f/1.4 v1 Steel Rim, while the later versions, particularly the v2, offer a more affordable way to explore the character of these early Summilux designs. Some of the longer focal lengths receive less attention than they deserve. In particular, he believes certain 90mm lenses and the 85mm Summarex are overlooked simply because photographers tend to gravitate towards 35mm and 50mm lenses. His point is simple: there are interesting lenses outside the usual collector favourites, and some are best appreciated by actually taking them out and using them.

The stories hidden inside a camera

Rare original Leica Display Hand from the 1970s, displayed at David Stephens' home holding a Leica I Model A with an early screw-mount lens. — An original Leica Display Hand, produced by Ernst Leitz Wetzlar as vintage retail display material in the 1970s. David Stephens uses this unusual piece of Leica memorabilia to display an early Leica I Model A fitted with a screw-mount lens.

David's own collection developed gradually. He admits that photography itself has never really been his hobby. It has always been the equipment that fascinated him. His interest in collecting early Leica cameras, pre-war and wartime models, lenses and accessories came later, when he was finally in a position to pursue it. His father had left him some interesting pieces, and over the years David added to them. For anyone starting out, his advice is to choose a particular period or category and learn it properly rather than trying to collect everything. His own strongest interest is the period from 1925 to 1935, when the earliest Leica cameras and their development continue to fascinate him.

He never kept the black Leica II his father gave him as a boy, but one discovery in particular has become a defining part of his collection. At a Leica fair in Solms, organised by Lars Netopil and David Pitzer, he found a very early Leica I Model A that had been converted to a Model C. At the time, he had no idea of its previous owner. It was only later that a fellow Leica Historica colleague, who had a copy of the original delivery card, pointed out that the camera had belonged to Ernst Leitz II and had been given to him as a Christmas present on 24 December 1924.

For David, that discovery opened a new door. Information preserved in the Leitz factory archives helped him explore the history of the Leitz family, the company and the equipment itself. His interest grew beyond the cameras as objects and into the stories they could tell.

He began reading the work of Leica historians and researchers including Jim Lager, Lars Netopil, Frank Dabba Smith, Gianni Rogliatti and Shinichi Nakamura. David speaks with great respect about the people who have devoted so much of their lives to researching Leica, some of whom he has been fortunate enough to know personally. When it comes to lens design, his reading has focused particularly on Max Berek and the early optical work. He is fascinated by the hand drawings, the making and polishing of glass, and the practical knowledge needed to turn an optical design into a finished lens. Although Walter Mandler is widely celebrated by enthusiasts, David says he has studied Berek's work more closely.

What continues to fascinate him is that the story is never quite finished. New discoveries still emerge from family archives, from the relatives of former Leitz employees and sometimes from flea markets on the other side of the world. A camera that has been sitting unnoticed for decades can suddenly reveal something that changes what we thought we knew.

As David puts it, it is a gift that never stops giving.

David no longer thinks of himself primarily as a dealer. He sees himself more as a custodian of unusual pieces of Leica history, especially things that fall outside the usual collector's checklist. He enjoys spotting something others have overlooked, whether it is an unusual piece of Leica ephemera, a small manufacturing detail or even an engraving mistake. He can spend hours searching through auction listings and online marketplaces, not necessarily looking for the most expensive object, but for something with a story that has yet to be recognised.

There may still be more to discover. David hints that one item in his possession could, if the evidence supports it, rewrite part of the recorded history of the Leica I Model A. For now, he prefers to keep the details to himself. It is an intriguing reminder that, even after decades of research, the history of Leica is still capable of surprising us.
Spending time with David has also shaped the way I look at Leica stores, and at what makes some of them more memorable than others.

The Red Dot spirit

As Leica stores have become more consistent around the world, with familiar interiors and a similar selection of the latest products, I understand why. From a brand and retail perspective, a recognisable experience makes sense. You know what to expect when you walk through the door.

Still, after visiting Leica stores around the world, I find myself drawn to the ones that offer something beyond the newest camera or lens. Leica Store Porto, when Paulo Silveira was running it, Leica Store Lisse in the Netherlands, Leica Store Beaumarchais in Paris and Leica Store Manchester have all stayed with me for the same reason: the knowledge of the people behind the counter and the things you might discover there that are not available everywhere else.

In Porto, Paulo's knowledge and connection with the Leica factory were extraordinary. In Manchester, David's historical knowledge and the store's relationship with collectors give it a different character. It is not about the size of the building, an impressive interior or a VIP room. It is about people, knowledge and a genuine connection to the history of the brand.

Anyone can sell a luxury product. What makes a specialist store worth returning to is the ability to tell you why an object matters, help you find something unusual, or simply spend time talking through a lens with someone who knows its history. To me, that is part of the Red Dot spirit.

A Noctilux gathering in Manchester

My reason for visiting Manchester this time was a session dedicated to the Leica Noctilux family. These lenses have always fascinated me, not just because of their speed, but because each generation reflects a different moment in Leica's optical history.

I brought my own Noctilux-M 50mm f/1, and David assembled an impressive range of Noctilux lenses for the event.
The real surprise was an original Noctilux-M 50mm f/1.2, complete with its shade. David and I had talked about this lens many times over the years, so seeing one there was a special moment. He even trusted me to use it during my time in Manchester. These are rare and valuable pieces of photographic history, and that generosity said a lot about his attitude to collecting. He appreciates their importance, but he also wants people to experience them.

David opened the session with the early history of Leica, from the screw-mount cameras to the development of faster screw-mount lenses and the arrival of the Noctilux. I then took the story through the Noctilux family, looking at the differences between the 50mm f/1 generations, from the E58 to the later E60 design, and continuing to the recently introduced 35mm f/1.2.

I wanted to go beyond a list of specifications and production dates. What changed between these lenses? How did the designs evolve, and what might those differences mean to someone using them today? The original 50mm f/1.2, the various 50mm f/1 versions and the new 35mm all carry the Noctilux name, but each tells a different part of the story.

After the talk, we had a question-and-answer session, and the conversation continued with a lovely group of people. The Manchester crowd was relaxed and down to earth, and clearly interested in using their equipment as much as discussing it. I was also delighted to meet Andy Barton, moderator of the Leica User Forum, in person. David had told me about his customers, and he was right: these were photographers who loved their cameras and wanted to learn more about them.

Andy Barton, moderator of the Leica User Forum, sitting with participants during Milan Swolfs' Noctilux presentation and photo walk at Leica Store Manchester. — A moment from the Noctilux gathering at Leica Store Manchester. Andy Barton, moderator of the Leica User Forum, joined fellow Leica enthusiasts for an afternoon of conversations, vintage lenses and photography, followed by a photo walk through Manchester.

Our conversations also touched on Leica's decision to bring historic lens designs back to a modern audience. David likes the idea behind the Classic line, although he feels the positioning and pricing can make a difference to how these lenses are understood. The Noctilux-M 50mm f/1.2, for example, comes with expectations that may not match what the original design was intended to deliver. The Summaron-M 28mm f/5.6 is a lens he likes, though he feels its price sits high compared with the original. He is more disappointed by the way the Thambar-M 90mm f/2.2 has been presented to the market, believing there was an opportunity to tell its story more clearly. For David, these reissues can preserve an important part of Leica's heritage, but they need to be introduced in a way that helps photographers understand their character and purpose.

Afterwards, we went out for a photo walk, giving everyone the chance to put some of the lenses to use. When we returned, I curated a selection of the images made by the participants with several of the Leica lenses available during the session. I was using the Leica M EV1 with David's Noctilux-M 50mm f/1.2, a combination I was particularly keen to explore.

The M EV1 and the people it may serve

We also spent some time talking about the Leica M EV1, which has prompted plenty of discussion among M users. David sees it as a natural evolution of the system rather than a departure from it. For him, the appeal is that it retains the feel of an M camera while making it easier to see what is in focus, particularly when using older lenses. He doesn't see it as a way to attract people who are perfectly happy photographing with a phone, but as another option for photographers who already appreciate the M system and want a different way to use it.

Leica M-EV1 fitted with a vintage Summicron-M 50mm f/2 Dual Range Rigid, protected by an Angelo Pelle leather case and matching camera strap. — *A meeting of generations: the Leica M-EV1 paired with the classic Summicron-M 50mm f/2 Dual Range Rigid, complemented by a handcrafted leather case and strap from Angelo Pelle.*

Think of photographers who have spent years building a collection of M lenses, but whose eyesight is no longer what it used to be. They may want to keep using those lenses without moving to the larger SL system or carrying features they don't need. An electronic viewfinder could offer them another way to continue working with the M lenses they already know and love.

Seen this way, the M EV1 is not necessarily trying to replace the traditional M experience for everyone. It may be an alternative for a particular group of photographers who want to stay with their M lenses. David and I wondered whether that message had been made clear enough in Leica's marketing. That is our interpretation, of course, rather than a statement of Leica's official intentions, but it seems a worthwhile perspective to add to the debate.
David also wondered whether some form of focus confirmation could make the experience even more useful.

But our conversations about Leica were only part of the visit. The following day, we left the discussion behind and spent some time doing what we both enjoy: photographing things that caught our eye.

A day at Donington Park

The visit didn't end with the workshop. David took me to Donington Park, where we spent another day together with our cameras, wandering around the vintage cars and talking about just about everything.

David brought his olive-green, military-style Leica M2, repainted by Kanto, with his original Noctilux-M 50mm f/1.2 and its shade. I had my Leica M11 Monochrom with a Summar 50mm f/2 that I'd just bought at the store. I was curious to see how this old lens would perform on the Monochrom.

The weather was typically British, with grey skies, soft light and a little rain. Perfect conditions for black and white. We wandered around the vintage cars, photographing the cars themselves and the people who had come to see them. I enjoyed the way the soft light brought out the details in the bodywork, the reflections and the character of the people around us. The Summar turned out to be a lovely companion for the day.

There was something nice about the contrast between us. David had his classic film M2 and the rare Noctilux, while I was using a modern digital Monochrom with a lens I'd only just picked up. We weren't there to compare specifications or discuss auction prices. We simply walked around, took photographs and enjoyed the day.

Of course, Leica cameras and lenses aren't the only things we have in common. We also share a passion for watches and cars. Boys will be boys, I suppose. It's always easy to find another subject to talk about, and our conversations rarely stay focused on cameras for very long.

A vintage racing car driving across the Donington Park circuit beneath an overcast sky, photographed with the Leica M11 Monochrom. — *A vintage racing car making its way around Donington Park. The grey skies and open circuit created an almost timeless atmosphere, captured with the Leica M11 Monochrom and Summar 50mm f/2.*

David also introduced me to the bacon butty, a proper British bacon sandwich, which I was more than happy to try. He then suggested Marmite. I gave it a chance, but that one wasn't for me. I'll stick to bacon and eggs for breakfast.

Looking back, it's often these moments that stay with you. The rare lenses are wonderful to see and use, of course, but so is spending a day with someone who shares your interests, having a few laughs and enjoying photography without any particular plan. By the end of the day, it felt less like visiting a fellow Leica enthusiast and more like spending time with a good friend.

Kanto-repainted Leica M2 with an original Leica Noctilux-M 50mm f/1.2 ASPH and vintage Leica repair tools from David Stephens' collection. — David Stephens' Kanto-repainted Leica M2, paired with an original Noctilux-M 50mm f/1.2 ASPH. His collection of original Leica tools is laid out alongside the camera, offering a glimpse into the craftsmanship and care behind his lifelong fascination with the M system.

A living history

David Stephens wearing magnifying goggles while carefully working on a Leica M3 at his home workbench, using original Leica tools and specialist lighting. — David Stephens at work on a Leica M3, using magnifying goggles and specialist lighting to examine the camera's mechanical components. Surrounded by original Leica tools, he approaches the delicate work with the precision and patience of a surgeon.

I last caught up with David over coffee at Leitz Café in Wetzlar during the Leica celebrations in October. As always, we talked about equipment, history and the people who make this community what it is. It felt fitting to meet again in Wetzlar, a place that has played such an important role in David's life since he first visited the factory as a nine-year-old boy.

Looking back at our first conversations at the Wetzlar Camera Auctions, my visits to his home, the Noctilux session in Manchester and our day at Donington Park, I realise that what connects us has grown into something much more than a shared interest in Leica. We may approach photography from different directions, but we share the same curiosity about the people, the stories and the history behind the equipment. There is always another lens to discover, another story to uncover or another conversation that takes us somewhere unexpected.

David has spent much of his life surrounded by cameras, some of which are now considered priceless pieces of photographic history. Yet what has stayed with me most is not the rarity of his collection or the value of the objects he owns. It is the way he approaches them. He wants to understand where they came from, preserve what might otherwise be lost and, just as importantly, let other people experience them. A rare lens can sit safely in a display cabinet for decades, but its story becomes much more meaningful when someone gets the chance to use it, understand it and see what it can still do.

In that sense, David is more than a collector. He is a custodian of a history that belongs to all of us who care about photography. His knowledge is valuable, but his willingness to share it is what gives it life. The cameras and lenses will continue to change hands, and the technology will keep moving forward. What matters is that the knowledge, the stories and the enthusiasm are passed on to the next generation.

One of the things I value most about being part of the Leica community is the people it has brought into my life. Through photography, I have met collectors, historians, designers and photographers from all over the world. What often begins with a conversation about a camera or a lens can grow into something much more meaningful. My friendship with David is one of those connections, built over years of conversations, shared experiences and a mutual curiosity about the history behind the equipment.

I am grateful to David not only for the rare lenses he has trusted me to use, but also for his generosity, his knowledge and the time we have spent together. I will remember the conversations at his home, the Noctilux gathering in Manchester, our day at Donington Park and the many times we have met over coffee at the Leitz Café in Wetzlar during Leica events over the years. These are the experiences that give the equipment a meaning beyond its rarity or value. The cameras may eventually pass into other hands, but the memories we make around them are ours to keep.

There is one more story about David that I will be sharing soon. It involves Oskar Barnack, the famous photograph of the Eisenmarkt in Wetzlar and a special 42mm Summar that David adapted to an M mount. His intention was to correct the perspective of this iconic image, which is usually photographed using a 35mm or 50mm lens. I had the chance to use his creation, and the reasoning behind it deserves a story of its own. More on that soon.

David is also beginning to think about the future of his collection and the decisions that come with it. Next year will be an opportunity to offer selected pieces for sale to fellow collectors. If this is of interest, you can contact David directly at david@stephenspremier.co.uk. Watch this space.

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A Life in Leica: David Stephens and Leica Store Manchester