Beware of people asking questions. By nature, I like to be helpful. Teaching is something I enjoy. For better or worse, it can also lead to unintended gear purchases.
My most recent adventure began when someone in a Minolta camera group asked what a Minolta Super A set was worth. The Super A is a rangefinder from the 1950s and, according to those who know about such things, only about 22,000 were made, so they rarely show up for sale. Even when they do, the only items are usually the camera and a 50mm f2 lens (the most common lens released for the camera).
Seven lenses were made for the Super A: 50mm 1.8, 50mm f2, 50mm f2.8, 35mm, 100mm, 135mm, and 85mm. I have seen the 35mm and 85mm only in ads from the era. Collectors seem to have the 100mm locked up, but even if they did not, I could not afford one. The few standalone lenses I have seen all cost 300.00 or more. This is Leica territory–somewhere I am not given to tread.
Anyway, the person inquiring wanted to know how to price a set consisting of a Super A camera, a 50mm 1.8 lens, and a 135mm f4.5 lens. On further questioning, I found that the 135mm lens came with the original leather case, 135mm viewfinder adjustment for the rangefinder, and the original metal hood. There was also a case for the Super A, a self-timer, and an attachable light meter. Since Super A lenses rarely show up on eBay, I was intrigued. I already had a Super A that came at a very reasonable price, but here was a 50mm f1.8 and a 135mm, neither of which I had ever seen for sale.
I, along with others, gave opinions, and later I told him how to check the items to see if they worked. A month went by, and I forgot about the set. The set went up for auction and no one bid on it. Six weeks later, curious about what happened to the Super A, I found it was still available. As you can guess, I ended up with the items at a fair price. I now have as much of a collection of Super A gear as I am ever likely to have unless someone has me in their will. The Super A set and my MC Rokkor gems (58mm f1.2, 85mm f1.7) are my most collectible items. They, along with my SR-2, XD11, Maxxum 7, and Maxxum 9, are my most cherished Minolta gear. All are assured of permanent homes.
The story would end here except that, having used the Super A and its predecessor, the Minolta A, I have found those cameras to have excellent lenses. They are subject to flare, but they render sharp images with good contrast and color. The Super A is a fine instrument; its mechanical construction wows me. My appreciation for cameras as precision devices and engineering art has only grown now that I have opened up a few and gotten a couple of stuck film advances and mirrors working.
Some things are simply beautiful and can be appreciated solely on that basis. Beauty plus functionality is a lagniappe. Obviously, I didn’t need another rangefinder. But, my Minolta-influenced mind, along with the coaxing of the VMLP, tempts me to buy things. That is the explanation I offer (amongst others) for purchasing the black Minolta Hi-Matic 7s. As fate would have it, that marriage was not to be, so I returned it. With it went any remaining desire to experiment with more rangefinders.
I like rangefinders—they have grown on me. The Minolta A, Minolta Super A collection, and Hi-Matic 7sII span nearly 20 years of Minolta innovation—1955 to 1977. They also represent two rangefinder types—fixed lens and interchangeable. I now have a decent representation of Minolta’s rangefinder output. Aside from the Minolta 35, a Leica clone, they capture the best of Minolta’s foray into rangefinders. I feel no need to add more–I’m good.
You have seen images from my rangefinders in various posts, but not in a full review. Look for that to be rectified within the next week or so.
