Ranking the best cameras I’ve ever used
While I don’t usually do gear reviews or write about cameras, I’d like to take this opportunity to share my thoughts on some of the best cameras that I’ve personally ever used.
Defining a good camera
But what is “the best” — really? To have a fair and clear definition, I’m including the cameras that have provided me the most value — the cameras that have helped me actually make things, not just the ones with the greatest specifications.
I’ve had some amazing cameras with some impressive specs that only ended up collecting dust. And while they might be considered great cameras by any other definition, if I can’t make anything with them, I can’t personally consider them valuable for me.
So the best camera for me is the one that, for one reason or another, helps me produce something and elevate my creativity. And as the case seems to be, with some cameras you just get things done on a completely different level while others are quickly forgotten and left untouched after purchasing. A camera that sits on a shelf isn’t a good camera. At least that is my view.
1. Fujifilm X-Pro3 — the broken masterpiece
The number one on my list is the Fujifilm X-Pro3, which I bought in 2021 and still use daily — or if I’m lazy, at least weekly. It’s deeply flawed… and yet no other camera has pushed me to shoot more.
I’ve shot some of my most meaningful, most successful and most beautiful photos with it. It has recorded key moments of my life. It has seen loved ones come and go, preserving their memories in moments frozen in time. It has been my companion on the path of visual poetry and it holds much emotional value and importance for me.
By many standards, unfortunately, it is not the best camera in the world, nor even the best in the Fuji X lineup. It features the infamous hidden LCD screen that has an even more infamous engineering flaw: a fragile cable connecting the screen to the camera body that wears out over time, rendering the rear screen permanently hidden (broken) as it eventually fails completely, making the X-Pro3 even more X-Pro3 than the manufacturer intended.
After a couple of years, the camera will no longer have a functioning back screen whatsoever. Sometimes the camera displays other quirks and alarming weaknesses as well (card read errors are common), even though it is supposed to be a professional model that, especially bearing the high price point in mind, should tolerate heavy — or even normal — use much better.
For comparison, I also have the Fujifilm X-E3, which is a much cheaper mid-range model and slightly older too, but I’ve had zero issues with it… ever. It outperforms the X-Pro3 when it comes to reliability at half the price.
Even though it borderlines on being potential e-waste suspended on a camera strap, it seriously has some soul. I didn’t mind the hidden LCD screen to begin with, and when it broke, I was kind of used to its absence already. I’m planning to get it fixed at some point, even though it will fail again and need to be replaced time and time again, ad infinitum — but I don’t really mind at this point.
The reliability issues do weigh heavily in the back of my mind, but in every other way, the Fujifilm X-Pro3 has been my most productive camera ever.
Paired with the often-overlooked Fujinon 50mm f2 lens and a mist filter, it is a stunning combo. (If you want a free tip, buy that lens and glue the aperture ring to f2 for the most beautiful rendering you’ve ever seen.)
I’ve been able to create some of the nicest film simulation recipes with my X-Pro3, which is a wonderful thing for anyone who enjoys in-camera control of their imagery. The photos tend to look very organic and cozy… film-like, if you will. Ninety percent of the time, only minimal editing is needed, if any at all.
I’ve also previously had the X-T5, X-H1, X-S10, X-E2, and X-100s. As a personal comparison, I think the X-Pro3 has the strongest quintessential Fuji-X feel out of the bunch.
If the X-Pro3 were a musical instrument — on a scale of an entry-level Casio synthesizer that you somehow own but don’t know why, to a grand piano — it would be an expensive electric piano with half of the keys missing, yet still able to convince you that Claude Debussy is jamming in the next room, playing with one hand while sipping absinthe with the other.
Fujifilm X-pro3 seen here with adapted Voigtländer Nokton 50mm f1.5 lens.
X-pro3 with Fujinon 18mm f2.
2. Leica M6 — the M stands for mojo
I used the Leica M6 as my main camera during 2017–2021. I eventually swapped it for an M4 (more on that later), but during that time I shot hundreds of rolls of film with it. The Leica M system is legendary, with many arguing that the M6 is one of the best cameras in the world. While debatable, it says something about its reputation.
Many would argue that the M6 is overpriced and over-appreciated. It has a cult following and people will say all sorts of wonderful things about it using thunderous language, but I valued it for different reasons altogether. In fact, I’ve always found the Leica discourse somewhat off-putting and unrelatable. For me it was a good camera because I just happened to do really satisfying work with it. I didn’t have it for showing off. A-non, non, non… I had it because it had a magic touch, and for reasons I cannot explain, whenever I managed to capture good images, more often than not, they were shot with the M6. So if you ask me, the M stands for mojo and thus I used it heavily, with some very pleasing results.
During those days, I used to shoot with many other film cameras as well. My success rate tended to be much poorer with them, even though many were equally (or better) performing technically speaking, but lacked something else, like a true essence of a great camera.
As for reliability, I never had any issues with my M6. It came to me freshly serviced in minty-fresh condition, and during my years with it, I encountered a grand total of zero problems.
If the Leica M6 were a musical instrument, it would be a Joel Meyerowitz with an Uzi. Oh well, that’s not exactly a musical instrument, but that’s how it felt.
My old Leica M6 with Summaron 35mm f2.8.
3. Leica M4
Sometimes I just feel like taking a slow-motion stroll with a camera while blasting Erik Satie on my headphones and pretending that I’m Robert Doisneau. There is no better camera for this cosplay than the Leica M4.
While many hold the Leica M6 on a pedestal, I actually prefer the M4. First of all, it doesn’t have a light meter, which is something that I enjoy, because… I don’t know… I’m mentally ill like that.
I like old things. I like vintage. The M6 has the heritage, sure, but for my personal taste it isn’t quite vintage enough. So like I mentioned, I swapped my M6 for an M4. For most people, a transaction like this would be a downgrade, but the M4 just feels different. To me it feels genuine. If a light meter ever becomes a must-have feature for me, there are plenty of Canon AE-1’s out there.
I’ve been shooting my M4 ever since 2021, and it is my primary 35mm camera. It came with the original paperwork, factory warranty card and signatures. An older gentleman in a neighbouring town of Porvoo, Finland was the original owner, who even saved the original receipt from 1974, giving the camera a charming bit of personal history. I get a kick out of nostalgia like that, and it is easier to appreciate than a faceless eBay purchase. The camera is in pristine condition and working like a charm. Cosmetically it is as pretty as on the day it fell off the truck, as the saying goes.
In a way I value the M4 much higher than my old M6, but I haven’t been using it nearly as much as the M6, even though I was expecting it to increase my shooting tempo. The opposite happened, and counter-intuitively, I haven’t been producing half as much so-called “good work” with it. Don’t get me wrong — it still performs, and I constantly get good, meaningful images from it, but during the time of acquiring it, my photography shifted in many ways. I got it right in the middle of the pandemic, which certainly put a twist on my photographic endeavours. Soon after, my precious Fujifilm X-Pro3 entered the picture as well, and the Leica M4 had to share the first place with it. Importantly though, during those days film prices started to surge, which restricted my film photography tremendously and has thus affected my shooting habits.
All in all, I still absolutely love my M4, and it is something of a treasure for me. Gear acquisition syndrome is eternal and cameras do come and go, but this is the only film camera that I haven’t let go and am not planning to.
If it were a musical instrument, it would be a Stradivarius violin.
My Leica M4 and the original factory paper work.
Official documentation with the main controller’s and final inspector’s signatures.
Pretty looking camera too.
Honorable mention: Rolleicord V
An honorable mention goes to my current Rolleicord TLR camera. I’ve had some similar cameras before, including another Rolleicord and a Rolleiflex. This current one I bought as a birthday present for myself about a year prior to writing this.
Because I haven’t owned the camera long enough, I can’t yet give a long-term opinion, but what I can say is that so far things are looking promising. I’ve been really loving the camera and stunning images seem to emerge out of it just like that. It is once again one of those magic cameras.
Funny enough, my previous TLRs, including the much-sought-after Rolleiflex, didn’t seem to yield this level of quality. With my new Rolleicord, things just seem to… click. (Thank you for noticing my elaborate choice of wording there.)
The camera desperately needs a CLA. Half of the shutter speeds are jammed and the self-timer button is missing completely. Sometimes half of the frames turn out blank. The film-loading door has such a big dent in it that someone, at some point, clearly used it as a hammer. If I ever get lost in the woods, a rescue team will only need to follow a trail of screws and bolts in order to find me. But dear lord… the images… they are beautiful. Every time. There appears to be a small painter or a poet living inside the camera.
Before film prices went completely goo-goo ga-ga, I used to carry the Rolleicord around my neck as an EDC camera. Now that I can barely afford to buy film, I tend to carry it casually less frequently, but whenever I do, people always stop to compliment it. I’ve actually met some new interesting people just by transforming myself into a walking rack of vintage cameras. In that sense, the Rolleicord actually helps create new connections too. It is more than just a camera — it actually takes me to places. Not a bad feat for a camera that could be mistaken for a birdhouse.
If the Rolleicord were a musical instrument, it would be either a birdhouse with a music box attached to it, or an old, dusty piano that needs a tuning but still manages to sound eerily good.
My Rolleicord taking a beating at an autumn storm outing.
Not the most ideal shooting contitions for such an old camera, but it can take a drizzle easily.
Love this thing.
