My camera gear lust truly knows no boundaries. But in my defense, ever since I first got into large format photography, neither my Horseman L45 monorail camera (since sold) nor my Graflex Pacemaker 45 Crown Graphic quite seemed to completely scratch my large format itch. The Horseman is (well, was) quite simply too big and too heavy for serious field work (it’s not what monorails were even designed for), and the Graphic, as much as I love it, doesn’t provide enough view camera movements to be considered much of a contender for serious large format work — where perspective control, and depth-of-field control, through the use of those movements are central to the art form. Quite literally the only camera in existence that combines all the use cases of a monorail camera and a press camera into a single package is the Linhof Master Technika, or Master Technika Classic (more on that distinction later), and it’s the reason I’d wanted one for years. I never thought I’d have the opportunity, but it presented itself, and I think I have pretty well found my photographic capstone, not just for my large format endeavors, but for my film camera collection as a whole.
The Back Story
Much like a Leica for 135 (35mm) film, or a Hasselblad for medium format, the Linhof name in large format circles carries with it (for many photographers, anyway) a certain cachet. As with the Leica and Hasselblad, it has a sort of aspirational quality to it that’s widely admired — even as it’s widely demeaned by those for whom it remains out of reach, or who quite accurately point-out that owning one is not a prerequisite to creating outstanding images — just as owning a Leica is not a prerequisite for taking decent 35mm photos.
In point of fact, there are any number of cameras that are quite perfectly capable of shooting an image on 35mm film with the same (or greater) quality as a Leica. And anything from a Rolleiflex to a Bronica to a Yashica TLR can expose a frame of 120 film as adeptly as a Hasselblad (assuming it’s clean and in good working order, anyway). As for large format, I can personally confirm that a 70-year-old Graflex Graphic is perfectly capable of capturing images that are every bit as creative as those captures by a Linhof Technika.
Whether aspirational cameras such as the Leica, Hasselblad, or Linhof are truly “better” or not, the other major factor with them is an economic one: the cost. I’ve deemed the lavish (and rapidly accelerating) price tag of a Leica to be an unnecessarily extravagant investment when I already own well over 125 cameras that take 135 roll film (i.e., 35mm) — many of which, as I just implied, are more than capable of meeting or exceeding the quality of output offered by a Leica. (My Nikon F4S and F5 come to-mind.) As for the Hasselblad, my decision to buy one early in my film photography journey is one I don’t regret, but it was made before prices unjustifiably and inexplicably started heading toward the stratosphere.
At the end of the day, a camera is in fact just a camera — not the secret to eternal youth — and if I didn’t already own one of these aspirational brand cameras, perhaps inherited or purchased at a more reasonable price point than they sell for today, it’d be pretty hard for me (or most of us) to justify the spend. (Which is why I don’t own a Leica.)
The Linhof, however, despite a price point (for a new or completely refurbished one) that borders on insane, is a slightly different situation than the Leica, or the Hasselblad — at least for me. It’s true that a camera is little more than a light tight box with a lens, and I’ve argued that the most important part of a camera is, in fact, that lens. However, that’s a point that’s a little easier to defend when we’re talking about, for example, a 35mm SLR. Is there really any qualitative difference between Pentax LX, a Pentax K1000, a Pentax ME Super, or even a Ricoh KR-30SP when all four of those camera bodies can accept exactly the same K-mount lenses and thus produce exactly the same images with any given lens? I think the answer is a resounding no — and things like a program mode, or depth-of-field preview, and similar things that vary from camera to camera are merely niceties that don’t have any impact whatsoever on the resulting image (apart, perhaps, from helping ensure a proper exposure).
That being said, view cameras are a different ballgame, and really are an exception to the “we’re all shooting lenses, not cameras” argument. The camera itself actually does matter. Does it offer the full range of movements to control depth-of-field and perspective? What is the range of those movements? How stable is the camera when movements are dialed-in, or the bellows are fully extended? Is the camera light enough to take it where you intend to use it? Does it support the types of shooting you intend to do?
When I started asking those questions honestly, I found that the idea of a wooden field camera didn’t appeal to me, which ruled-out the Intrepid, Shen Hao, and Chamonix field cameras — all readily available brand new — not to mention countless vintage field cameras. I’d already experienced the limitations of the Graflex Graphic cameras, as well as the weight and awkwardness of a monorail for field use. But the clincher for me was a desire to be able to have camera movements (a la field camera, monorail, etc.) and the ability to shoot handheld (a la press camera) in a single camera.
As I mentioned in the introduction, really only one camera that meets my requirements was ever made, and that camera is the Linhof Master Technika, known in its most recent incarnation as the Master Technika Classic. For use on a tripod with movements like any other view camera, it has everything you need including a ground glass, a ground glass hood, and a pretty full range of camera movements. But when shooting handheld, all are traditionally equipped with:
- A rangefinder for accurate focusing that can be cammed for lenses of any practical focal length (about 75mm to 360mm, and some even longer lengths in the case of telephoto lenses);
- An adjustable viewfinder to accurately frame and compose a shot, also with lenses of virtually any practical focal length (75mm to 360mm), which has available masks for different film formats to allow accurate framing; and,
- An anatomical grip with an integrated cable release to make handholding comfortable and practical.
Some readers might point out that the Wista 45RF is a much more affordable alternative that does the same thing. Well, yes and no; it does have both a viewfinder and rangefinder, and can be shot handheld. The problem with the 45RF is that its rangefinder is factory designed for three specific Fujinon large format lenses. If you own anything else, the rangefinder will be inaccurate. The Technika rangefinder, as I said, can be cammed for any large format lens with focal lengths from 75mm to 360mm.
It’s true that these days, few people have an interest in shooting large format handheld. I am admittedly an oddball, an outlier in wanting to do this. But even when tripod mounted, there’s still functional value in a rangefinder for establishing critical focus in difficult lighting conditions, and the Technika universal finder is useful for assessing a scene to choose the best lens focal length for the situation no matter what type of shooting you’re doing. And I’ve found the anatomical grip to be very useful to ensure a good, solid hold on the camera even if it’s just to get it into position on a tripod. Additionally, there’s no argument that Linhof have engineered the Technika with such tight tolerances that its stability and precision can benefit any large format photographer. Whether any of that justifies its lavish price tag is an individual decision.
Let’s talk prices
The Linhof Master Technika Classic is still being made today in Munich, Germany, as it and its predecessors have been for decades. Here in the United States, B&H in New York will happily sell you one for around US$13,000 — without the viewfinder, the grip, a single rangefinder cam, or any lens (or lens board). Thirteen grand, for an empty, unusable shell. Or, you could save a lot of cash, and buy it from the lovely people at Linhof Studio in Essex in the UK for around US$9,000, and even after paying duty fees, you’d save a considerable amount of money. To equip the camera for actual use would run significantly more in either case. (Prices current, by the way, as of early 2023, and are subject to change.)
For the record, knowing what I know now, and having used a Master Technika in its classic form quite extensively, I’d actually not hesitate to buy a brand new one despite the premium price. (If I had the cash, anyway.) It is, bluntly, that good.
Buying used, of course, is always an option. The problem is that — based on my experience, anyway — used Linhofs are quite often old, well worn, tatty, relatively ugly, and not especially ready for regular use. The Technika is quite mechanical, with lots of moving parts that require periodic maintenance, which likely hasn’t been attended to in a very long time. And even in that state, they are very often extremely expensive.
All of this complicates a decision to buy one of these cameras.
How I Got Here
In late 2021, I started thinking seriously about a field or technical camera, and began to consider my options, and start asking the questions I outlined above. Since wood body cameras were a non-starter for me, it left few alternatives. Did I truly need hand holding capabilities? If not, the Wista 45SP or 45VX would be viable choices. There were some Horseman models as well that could fill the bill. But I could not get my Graflex Graphic camera and how I use it out of my head; the ability to hand hold the camera was essential for me, and for that, the camera needed a rangefinder and a viewfinder, which (once again) meant the classic configuration of a Linhof Master Technika.
The used market for these cameras is… Interesting. It’s fairly easy to find Technika III and Technika IV cameras, but to be honest, these models are old — very, very old. The Technika III dates to the 1940s, while the Technika IV dates to the 1950s. I’ve sort of “been there and done that” with other midcentury cameras; vintage cameras can be quite nice, but they can also be unreliable and fussy, and given the pricing even on these very old models, that wasn’t going to work. And even when I did find examples for sale, they were quite often very tired, and would need a fair amount of work (and expense) to return them to a usable state.
By March 2022, I’d given-up. After briefly considering the Wista 45RF I mentioned earlier (maybe I just buy the camera and the three specific Fujinon lenses it supports?), I was done; I didn’t want the compromises, and the Linhof market was too dicey and too expensive.
In early June 2022, however, Austin at Laflex Camera Service in California reached-out to me to let me know he had a reconditioned Master Technika coming-up for sale shortly. I’d forgotten that when I was actively looking for one, I did reach out to Austin to express interest. I reluctantly asked for photos of the camera when he offered them, and I rather immediately fell in love with the camera — its mix of dark gray leatherette, silver painted chassis, and brand new bright red bellows forming an irresistible combination along with its clean lines, and clean everything else. The problem was that there was no rangefinder in the camera, which I noted in my “thanks, but no thanks” reply to Austin. He replied back quickly; the rangefinder had been removed because that’s how most customers prefer them to be configured these days. He’d be happy to mount the rangefinder back onto the camera body.
Long story short, soon enough, I’d bitten down on the investment, and the camera I’d given-up on ever owning had come home to roost.
I’ll decline to share the exact price I paid for the camera, but it was a considerable premium over the typical cost of a used one. But the camera had been fully and completely disassembled, right down to its bones, numerous worn parts had been replaced, it had new leather body panels and new bellows, and was in nearly every regard “as good as new.” Given that pretty much any other used Linhof would have to have ended-up with Laflex for an overhaul anyhow, it seemed a smart way to go about it.
The Camera
Before we dig into the camera, I think it’s relevant to first talk about what type of camera a Technika actually is. The name itself is a contraction of the German words technische kamera — quite literally technical camera. Many do happen to call them metal-bodied field cameras, but I believe that to be a mistake — at least in some cases. But let me digress and walk down this path a bit.
First, some people barely acknowledge the existence of technical cameras. In fact, Steve Simmons, author of one of the two seminal view camera books, Using the View Camera, doesn’t make mention of them at all, nor in fact of any metal-bodied cameras designed for use in the field. Jim Stone, author of the other seminal view camera book, A User’s Guide to the View Camera, offers much broader coverage of the various types of view cameras than Simmons, including his definition of a technical camera — a definition I share here:
As opposed to the press camera, which was built for the action photographer and, almost as an afterthought, could be used on a tripod, the modern technical camera was designed as a view camera with full movements with the option of being used hand-held.
Jim Stone, from A User’s Guide to the View Camera
And there it is in a nutshell: full movements, with the option of being used hand-held (sic). Following that definition, cameras such as the Wista 45SP and 45VX among many others, and even Linhof’s own Master Technika 2000 and 3000, are not actually technical cameras, but metal-bodied field cameras, since none of them are designed with the intent to be used handheld. A neutered, classic-type Master Technika (one with its rangefinder removed, as mine had originally been offered by Laflex) would then become a metal-bodied field camera as well. But the Master Technika, as originally designed, is very much a technical camera. I might well be splitting hairs here, but the difference, however slight, is actually germane to what follows.
The Master Technika has its roots in the very first of Linhof’s Technika family, which was introduced in 1936; that’s when the name Technika was first used, however the camera itself was little different than Linhof’s “Modell 34” camera, introduced in 1934.
A decade later, in 1946, the Technika II was introduced, followed very quickly by the Technika III. Across three identifiable versions, the Technika III is reflective of the Technika we recognize today.
But it was really 1957’s Technika IV (some sources say 1956) that brought us the camera that remains largely unchanged to this day. The Technika IV introduced a number of improvements over the Technika III, and remained in production until the 1963 introduction of the Technika V.
Finally, in 1972, Linhof introduced the Master Technika, and it’s the camera still produced to this day — albeit with some iterative improvements along the way. Linhof renamed it to “Master Technika Classic” in 2001 so as to differentiate it from the then-new Master Technika 2000 (later updated to the 3000); these cameras are essentially a Master Technika Classic without the rangefinder (and thus, not designed for handheld use).
I think it’s worth noting that most of the dates I just mentioned come from a variety of sources including the Linhof website. But authoritative timelines are hard to come by, and sources are often conflicting. My own Master Technika has some indicators that it was made in 1991, but it’s hard to know for certain.
In the end, the discussion of dates is not that important. The differences in the models starting with the Technika IV are not massive, and no matter the model name, a great many examples on the used market today are fairly old, having been made near the peak of interest in large format many decades ago. Even the most recent model, the Master Technika, was introduced five decades ago, and by that time, interest in large format film photography was already considerably faded. Even with the recent uptick in interest, in comparison to the 1950s, it’s still at historical lows.
One thing I do know is that when my camera was made, it would have been called, simply, “Master Technika.” I often prefer to (inaccurately) call it a “Master Technika Classic” for clarity — the same reason Linhof use the name today. My example has everything needed for handheld use, as I already noted, and I snobbishly don’t want anyone thinking otherwise, I suppose.
So, not to keep harping on the subject, but to summarize: The current camera (and mine) is the Master Technika, which new, comes in two flavors: the Classic, and the 3000. The Classic is an evolution of the original Technika, while the 3000 (and its predecessor, the 2000) both reflect more modern use cases for large format, eliminating the features that are associated with handheld use. You won’t find a rangefinder, and I’ve never seen one pictured with a universal viewfinder or the anatomical grip; the 2000 and 3000 models are designed for tripod use, and could probably be referred to (justifiably) as metal-bodied field cameras, rather than technical cameras.
To add to the confusion, and as I briefly mentioned above, classic-style Master Technika cameras are often converted into essentially a 2000/3000 — which is how mine was configured during restoration. Some owners have done sloppy DIY jobs (something to be aware of), but Laflex (where I bought my camera) often do professional conversions to remove the rangefinders from these cameras, using what is essentially a factory delete kit. Whether a sloppy DIY effort or a professional job, I personally find stripping the rangefinder out of a Master Technika to be a completely misguided — or, frankly, stupid — idea. I suppose if somebody really hates the idea of a rangefinder for some reason, or has some critical need to reduce the camera’s weight by a few grams, then by all means, neuter your camera if you want.
In a manner of speaking then:
- A field camera is a compact, folding view camera that cannot be used handheld.
- A technical camera is also a compact, folding view camera — one that can be shot handheld.
And just because it has the name “Technika” on the front doesn’t, by itself, tell you which it is.
Diving Into the Camera’s Features
Regardless of how you define the camera type, it all rather begins with a compact, folding body. On the Master Technika, the front opens easily, extending the bed 90° from the body, and allowing the front standard to be pulled outward and set-up for use.
A stock Master Technika Classic as it comes from the factory is a camera body and little else. As I mentioned earlier, the universal viewfinder often pictured with the camera (and necessary to shoot it handheld) is an extra-cost option, as is the anatomical grip that would be a near requirement for handheld use as well. The rangefinder is a standard part of the Classic, but the camera comes with no ability to actually use it, since the cams that drive it are matched to the lenses used with the camera, and are set-up by a Linhof service facility along with infinity stops and focus scales when the camera is purchased, or after the fact.
The Master Technika sports a beautiful rotating back that allows you to position the ground glass either vertically or horizontally, with the opening for a film holder either up, down, left or right.
In its standard landscape position with the opening on the photographer’s right, you can avail yourself of the camera’s pop-up shade, hidden behind a metal door. Once deployed, the metal door becomes the top of the shade, with real leather bottom and sides unfolding into place. With the shade closed, the entire door can be opened for direct access to the ground glass, or easily removed completely to facilitate the use of a dark cloth and loupe for focusing.
Original Linhof ground glass screens are of exceptional quality, and are clearly marked for 4×5 and all common medium format frames (except, oddly, 6×6), along with a grid that allows you to confirm perspective alignment with your subject. A fresnel magnifier is an extra-cost option, and again, the genuine Linhof article is exceptionally good. The fresnel can be installed or removed easily, and is held in-place with metal clips. The net-net of the set-up with fresnel is a bright, highly usable screen. In most outdoor conditions, critical focus will still require a loupe and dark cloth, but basic composition (and often focus as well) can almost always be accomplished without them if the subject is well-lit — provided sunshine isn’t directly shining on the screen itself.
Once set-up by a Linhof service facility, the rangefinder is exceptional too — I’d go so far as to say it’s the clearest, cleanest, and most easily used rangefinder I’ve ever seen, equalled only by my one experience with a Leica 35mm camera. As with any rangefinder, you need to point it at something where the image split can be readily seen as such, but it’s a joy to use. As I already mentioned, the rangefinder is cammed for specific lenses, with the cam being cut specifically for the behavior of the lens it’s paired with; with the Linhof, it’s always all about accuracy.
My particular camera was supplied by Laflex with a Nikkor-W 210mm lens, and they cut a cam for that lens, as well as setting-up the infinity stops and adding a focusing scale to the bed, also tailored to the lens. Several months after receiving the camera, I sent it back to Laflex, along with several of my LF lenses, to have additional lens set-ups performed, including custom cam cuts, installation of focusing scales, and the installation of infinity stops. These set-up and cam cutting services were not inexpensive, and are also unnecessary for those who don’t intend to shoot the camera handheld.
Partial set-ups are also an option; this involves installing infinity stops and a scale on the bed, but omits the cam and cutting service. In fact, I did a partial set-up for my 90mm lens. Austin at Laflex mentioned that the deep depth-of-field on wide angle lenses makes the precision of the rangefinder cams less important, and that’s absolutely been my experience. I’ve also found that I rarely shoot the 90mm handheld anyway.
The bed on a Master Technika is one of the areas that most clearly exhibits the engineering and tight tolerances of the camera’s design and manufacture. It’s a dual deck design; the top deck is the rail along which the front standard is positioned, while the bottom deck is connected to the focusing knobs. The top deck has four total positions, each with a positional lock to fix it into place:
- Wide angle, moved back to mate with the stub rails inside the body.
- Normal.
- First extended position.
- Second extended position.
Newer Master Technikas have a slight improvement to this, but the design allows for very close focus, as well as support for infinity stops to be placed for any lens from 72mm to 360mm in focal length (and some longer lenses of telephoto design).
The operation of the rails and focus is simple, smooth, and highly accurate. It’s designed to allow for no “play” or vibration even at full bellows extension, and it seems Linhof have achieved that quite nicely. The tightness can make it a little challenging sometimes to get the front standard all the way in to the body, and back out again, but once freed, it positions easily.
One note for extending the life of your camera: When moving the front standard in or out of the body, it’s a good idea to put the bed into its wide angle position, eliminating the gap between the main rail, and stub rails. That gap is visible in the image below.
While it’s possible to extract or stow the front standard without doing this, the gap between them provides an opportunity for careless users in a hurry to slowly damage the front standard carrier as it bangs against the rail edges. Putting it into wide angle position first adds only a few seconds to the process, and helps keep your Linhof in good condition.
The bellows in the Master Technika are exceptional — provided they’re original factory bellows. Aftermarket bellows are always too thick for the camera to operate properly, which is something to be aware of. Laflex had replaced the bellows in my camera with new Linhof ones in bright red, a strikingly beautiful choice for the camera. With 430mm of bellows extension, it’s more than enough to make good use out of a lens at the camera’s maximum stated non-tele focal length (360mm), and it provides exceptional margins for closer work with my 400mm Fujinon-T (tele) lens as well.
Because of the very long bellows extension, balance on a tripod can be an issue. For this reason, an additional tripod thread is provided on the front door of the body, which is then located on the bottom center when the camera is opened, offering better weight balance with long extensions. (You can see this tripod bush in the image of the closed Master Technika 3000 earlier in this review.)
Movements on the Linhof are easy to use, and operate with exceptional smoothness as one would expect. For front rise, a small ratcheting handle is used to achieve up to 55mm of rise. A rotating knob on the end of the handle dictates the direction of movement; one direction it goes up, then to lower it back down, the end of the handle is twisted to its opposite side, and the lever action then ratchets it back down.
For wide angle lenses that may be positioned partially inside the camera body, a flap has been engineered into the top to allow the front standard to move upward in these situations. Two small latches free the flap, allowing the rise to be performed for the more common focal lengths.
One potential design shortcoming (I’m not sure I would use the word flaw, but I’m tempted) of the Master Technika is the geared rise mechanism itself. As you can see in the photo below, it uses a small metal worm gear that moves against a grooved nylon track. There is no allowance for any sort of limit stop; if you continue to use the ratchet handle in either direction once it’s reached the limit of travel, you’ll begin stripping the grooves of the nylon track, damaging the track in the process, and rendering the rise either unusable, or very difficult to operate. (I’ve done this; it’s not an inexpensive repair.)
Linhof owners are advised to use rise with extreme caution, and visually check the position of the worm gear when ratcheting the rise up or down.
Both horizontal shift and swing of the front standard are accomplished by unlocking a small lever at the bottom of the standard, one for each of the two movements, positioning it as desired, then locking it down. Shift is up to 40mm either direction; the degree of swing is not stated by Linhof, but I believe it to be 20°. Forward or backward tilt are also simple; turn a knob to unlock, press a button opposite to allow it to be moved off the centered position, then tighten the knob where desired, with up to 30° of travel in either direction.
The front standard does not provide a fall movement. If one is needed, it can be accomplished either of two ways. First, the bed can be dropped to its 15° position, then the standard tilted back 15°. Or, the accessory shoe on the top of the body can be removed to reveal a third tripod mounting bush. The camera is simply turned upside down and remounted, allowing the significant rise to become a significant fall instead.
Speaking of the drop bed, it drops in two positions: 15° and 30°. For most use cases, the drop bed won’t be necessary, but for wide angle lenses, it may be needed to get the end of the bed out of the frame.
It is worth noting here that the rangefinder cam should be removed before dropping the bed. Short cams (for shorter focal length lenses) can often be left in-place at the 15° drop position, but at 30° of drop, any sized cam can very easily be bent. Best practice is simply to remove the cam, regardless of its size, before a bed drop.
Speaking of the cams, the owner’s manual for the Master Technika indicates that the camera can be closed without a cam in-place, but this simply isn’t quite correct. Removing the rangefinder cam and closing the camera can very easily result in the cam holder and follower mechanism moving off-center. When the camera is reopened when this has occurred, the bed can’t actually be extended to replace the cam, since it’s jammed against the cam holder. It’s extremely difficult to correct this when it occurs, and the rangefinder accuracy can be thrown out if you force it. If you have a rangefinder in your Master Technika, remove the cam when dropping the bed, and be certain the cam is in-place before closing the front. (Perhaps this is why some owners prefer to dispense with the rangefinder…)
Rear movements on the Master Technika are provided by the camera’s swing back. To use it, four lock knobs are loosened, and locking tabs on either side are pressed down to free the entire back. It can then be positioned for swing, tilt or a combination movement. Once positioned as desired, you simply hold it in-place with one hand, while tightening the four knobs with your other hand. The swing back provides 20° of movement in any direction.
As supplied, the camera comes with a leather strap mounted on the photographer’s left side. As I mentioned earlier, the Master Technika Classic is often pictured with the anatomical grip installed, and Linhof’s design for the accessory is well thought out. As the name suggests, it’s form-fit to a typical human hand, and makes for a secure, confident hold on the camera, whether shooting handheld, or when lifting it to the top of a tripod. The grip has a through hole, designed specifically for Linhof’s own cable release, which is included when you buy the grip new, as I did. A small spring-loaded bearing inside the grip allows the Linhof cable release to snap easily into place (the bearing slips into a groove in the cable release head), while allowing removal just as easily. Long bellows extensions may require the use of a short cable release extension, such as the ones available from Gepe. (Keeping short extensions attached to your LF lenses makes them easier to use with the Technika and the anatomical grip, too; there’s plenty of room to connect the main cable release to the extension, vs. fiddling in a tiny space to get it attached to the release threads on the shutter itself.)
The Master Technika is not supplied with one, but Linhof’s Universal Finder, also referred to as the Multifocus Optical Viewfinder, is an essential tool for handheld shooters like me, but it’s also quite useful for tripod shooters as well. It performs two important functions; first, you can set the finder to a specific lens focal length, and see the field of view without opening the ground glass or using a dark cloth. Second, you can set the distance to the subject, and correct that view for parallax. Masks are available for the front that allow you to see the field for 4×5, as well as common medium format frames. For handheld shooters, it’s how you compose your shot; for non-handheld shooters, it allows you to preview what the scene would look like at various focal lengths, allowing you to decide which lens to shoot without having to take the lens out of your camera bag and attach it first.
New, the Multifocus Optical Viewfinders are not cheap; Linhof Studio sell them for roughly US$1,250 at this writing (Summer 2022), and the masks are about US$115 each. They can be found used, but buyer beware; Linhof has produced three versions of the finders. The oldest 1950s type are somewhat inelegant barrel-shaped contraptions, with field of view support for lenses from 90mm to 360mm, and use a lever for focal length adjustment. The newer “zebra stripe” types are an updated design, and essentially identical in design to the current version, supporting a field of view for lenses between 75mm and 360mm. A helicoid adjustment ring allows selection of the focal length, while another ring adjustment allows you to dial-in subject distance solely for parallax correction. Different masks are supported for different film and/or frame types, and both the masks and the finders were made in both metric and imperial unit versions. The newest (and current) version has rubber grips in place of the zebra stripe machined metal; like its predecessor, it’s made in both metric and imperial versions.
Like vintage lenses, the helicoids on the finders can be dirty and stiff, and Laflex tell me that they are difficult to service and that the optics can be easily damaged in the process; in fact, the company is no longer willing to do that work because of the risks involved. Be aware that the printed scales on the zebra stripe and current models are sometimes in poor condition from careless handling. Bottom line: If you can justify the spend, buying a new one is likely the best option. In my case, I was able to find a zebra stripe version in good working condition with clean, intact scales and very clean optics; in short, I got lucky.
About the only aspect of the camera I’ve not covered here is that it’s equipped with strap lugs. At first this seemed almost an absurdity, as the camera is actually quite heavy dangling from one’s neck. But if you have any intention of handheld shooting it, as I do, it’s actually rather nice to have. My heavy-duty Op/Tech strap works well with the Master Technika, and distributes the weight rather comfortably. But speaking of absurdity, I have to say, I do feel like a bit of a dork with an enormous camera strapped to my body in an era when seeing even a basic SLR or DSLR hanging from someone’s neck strap is increasingly unusual.
The Experience
Using the Linhof Master Technika is a joy, but I use that word with some conditions; using any view camera is actually a fairly tedious experience. Many say that they like film photography because they are forced to slow down, but shooting a view camera takes an already slow process and makes it painfully slow and deliberate. That’s something that you either relish — or hate. For me, it’s perhaps not quite that polarized, but rather, a continuum between the two extremes. How I feel about it at any given moment lies somewhere on a spectrum, and sometimes it truly can be a joy, and other times I find that I would have been better off just picking-up my Nikon F5 and making things way easier. That’s no statement about the Linhof; it’s a statement about one’s photographic state of mind, and it shifts and changes for many reasons, not least of which is whether I’m shooting the camera handheld, or on a tripod.
On a tripod, there’s no more deliberate and methodical a process of creating an image than a view camera, and the Master Technika makes it as pleasant as I think the process probably can be. It’s a beautiful camera. It’s a well-made camera. It feels great to use, and you benefit from its incredible design. But it’s also not without its challenges. I actually devoted an entire separate article to this subject, but some highlights:
- As I mentioned earlier, using rise on the front standard is a risky maneuver, requiring your attention to what you’re doing so you don’t strip the nylon tracks. As I said already, I’ve done it; it’s not cheap to have repaired, and it requires being without the camera for an extended period, as repair queues can be quite long.
- The scale holder moves — on purpose, so you can swap it. But if you attempt to close the camera with the scale holder either pushed backward or forward out of its correct location, you’ll damage the scale holder, which requires replacement of course, but also the reinstallation of the scales on the holder, which requires recalibration of them.
- If you close the camera without a rangefinder cam installed, as mentioned earlier on, you can damage the cam follower mechanism, which requires repair and calibration. And if you drop the bed with the cam installed, you can damage the cam, as I also mentioned earlier.
It’s easy to look at that list, or read the longer article I wrote about these issues, and think that the Master Technika could have (and should have) had a better design to protect us from making these stupid mistakes. I don’t disagree, really, but I’m also not sure what I could have done any better, and having now made every one of those mistakes, and suffered the damage and consequences (including costs), it’s not very likely I’ll be repeating them. I use the camera with great care, I’ll just put it that way.
But a view camera, which forces you to deal with mounting lenses, opening the aperture to focus, using a loupe on the ground glass, dialing-in movements, remembering to close the aperture before taking a photo, dealing with film holders and their dark slides, making sure the film holders are actually properly and fully inserted and seated, compensating exposure for bellows extension, and paying attention to a dozen other details, all while making sure you don’t make any dumb errors along the way, is an exercise in knowledge, focus, practice, and tedium. It’s something one embraces, or doesn’t. But if you embrace it, embracing it with a Master Technika instills a feeling that you’re right there, in the weeds, with a camera that pretty well reflects the qualities that earned Linhof’s home country the widely understood meaning for the phrase, “German engineering.”
Shot handheld, things get modestly simpler, especially when you pair the camera with a Graflex Grafmatic six-sheet film magazine so you don’t have to keep flipping or swapping film holders after each shot. Pick a lens, set the universal finder for the matching focal length, install the matching rangefinder cam, and suddenly it’s not a radically different experience from pretty much any old-school, dual-window rangefinder camera; after setting exposure, focus through one window (the rangefinder peep hole), compose with another (the universal viewfinder), and press your thumb down on the shutter release. There’s no question, however, that a Master Technika is a beast, and neck strap or otherwise, it’s not something I’d like to be carrying around all day long.
It also probably goes without saying that relatively normal or shorter focal lengths (120mm is a good pick), fast lenses (with wider maximum apertures), faster films, and faster shutter speeds are going to yield the best results handheld, and that does mean certain depth-of-field compromises in some cases in order to keep the shutter speeds fast enough to get a sharp image without a tripod. With the limited array of stocks available in 4×5, you may also need to consider pushing your film a stop or two. With all that surface area, however, you can still get a great quality image even with changes in grain.
Acquiring my Linhof Master Technika was an investment; it’s the most expensive camera body I’ve ever purchased. But even factoring-in the costs of the damage I caused by misusing it (as described above), I don’t have a single regret. Its flexibility, its precision, its utility, and its sheer beauty make it an amazing camera to use — and to simply look at as it sits on a shelf when I’m not using it. Image quality is more a factor of the lenses I mount on the front, of course, but the results with the camera are also superb — provided that I’ve exposed them probably, and haven’t fumbled any part of the process, which admittedly I have a tendency to do.
Case in point? Out of the ten sheets in a box of Portra 160 that I recently used, I have just five usable images. In my defense, two of the duds were related to processing issues from the miserable options we have for processing sheet film at home — a subject for another post soon. But the others were me doing stupid things like forgetting steps, or just plain being careless when taking the images.
Despite that sort of outcome, despite the risks, despite the tedium, despite the costs, despite all of it? I can’t imagine a better large format view camera for my particular set of uses cases. Using it feels like I’m participating in a rather rich and important part of photographic history, and it’s an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything.
The Accessories
Linhof has over the decades produced a very wide array of accessories for the Technika series. Today, however, Linhof is a much, much smaller company than it once was, and even with the renewed interest in film in general, and large format film specifically, Linhof is a niche player in a niche market, and the array of accessories still available today is much more limited. Among the accessories they offer today, you’ll find:
- The previously mentioned multifocus (universal) optical viewfinder.
- Various types of lens boards, including some unique designs.
- A right-angle attachment for the back, for taking low shots.
- Ground glass and fresnel lens for the ground glass.
- Anatomical grip with cable release, as described earlier.
- Various sizes of premium film backs.
- Branded focusing cloths, and straps.
They also still provide a range of parts to service facilities like Laflex (bellows, focus scales, scale holders, nylon rise tracks, etc.), and it goes without saying that on the used market, you can find other options as well, including vintage Linhof-branded lens/shutter combinations, and much more.
The Results
As I mentioned previously, the results one will get with a Linhof Master Technika are largely dependent on the lenses you mount on the front, and how well and how accurately you use the camera. So with that being said, here’s a small sampling of some of my personal favorite images taken with the camera. Given the costs of 4×5 film, the Linhof isn’t something I shoot all the time; as I alluded to earlier, there’s a time and a place and a state of mind for shooting large format, and when the stars align, I can imagine no better photographic companion.
