Minolta Maxxum 5 (Dynax 5, Alpha Sweet II) Review and Photos

Minolta Maxxum 5 (Dynax 5, Alpha Sweet II) Review and Photos

Minolta Alpha Sweet II | Minolta A 28mm f/2.8 | Fuji Velvia 50

Painter Robert Henri said “Human faces are incentive to great adventure. The picture is the trace of the adventure.” Trace, in this sense, means “a mark, object, or other indication of the existence or passing of something.” The picture, I argue, is the trace of any adventure. The Maxxum 5 is a great companion for that adventure.

Minolta Alpha Sweet II | Minolta A 50mm f/1.4 | Rollei Vario Chrome

Is the Five the best thing to come out of the 1990s at all? Well, not quite, but whether you call it the Five or the Alpha Sweet II; this is the best 90’s entry-to-mid-level camera. Period. End of story. The Five so far out paces the comparable cameras, and some of the better cameras, from the other makers of the time that it’s staggering to me these aren’t widely seen as one of the modern classics. There are some basic features in this camera that other makers’ lacked, like a metal mounting flange, automatic switching to high-speed flash sync with shutter speeds faster than 1/125^th (with three specific Minolta flashes), amazing compactness, lightness beyond belief (it weighs only 335 grams), and structural strength that makes the user ask if it can possibly be a plastic 90’s camera. Oh, and I forgot to mention the easy one-handed operation. I’ve never used a camera with the same level of features that this has that can be operated, almost all of the time, with just the right hand.

The Five does have some weaknesses, like the semi-frequent failure in the penta mirror’s silver that causes the reflective system to turn yellow and blue, greatly diminishing the viewfinder quality. But find one with good mirrors, which is most of them, and there’s no noticeable brightness difference in the viewfinder between the Five and cameras with a pentaprism. I’ll let that sink in a moment. Most penta mirror systems are around one stop, some more, dimmer than a pentaprism system. Not the Five.

Minolta Alpha Sweet II | Minolta A 50mm f/1.4 | Fuji Superia 200

The other big weakness is how long the batteries last. Depending on whether you use autofocus and flash, the batteries will last between nine and 45 rolls. The lower end of that assumes autofocus with power-zoom lenses and heavy on-camera flash use. The latter end of that assumes an autofocus prime lens with zero on-camera flash uses. Switch to a manual-focus lens and you can expect more than 45 rolls. Regardless, those are not good numbers. Imagine a modern DSLR maker releasing a camera that could take between 214 and 1,600 photos on a single charge. No one would buy that camera. With my Five, on three occasions, including one hike I was really excited about in Colorado Springs, the batteries died unexpectedly. In the Colorado Springs instance, I had put fresh batteries in the day before. Even when off, these cameras drain batteries because they have an onboard quartz clock, most of them do anyway, and that drains the batteries 24/7. So this camera is as power hungry as a third-world despot.

If you’re a righty, the Five is pretty close to perfect. You can operate all the major functions with just your right hand, including the film back release. And holding it with one hand is easy. I can’t think of a lighter 35mm camera, possibly the Five’s lower-spec siblings the 3 and 4, but the difference is negligible. And for the light weight and penta mirror system does the five feel like a flimsy, chintzy, plastic-body camera? No. That’s left for comparable Pentax, Nikon, and Canon bodies. The Five feels every bit as solid as the Seven. And, if I’m honest, to me, the Five feels better made than the Seven because the camera’s weight is more easily managed by the materials that comprise it. I can find exactly no faults with the Five’s ergonomics and, in fact, I like holding the five more than my beloved Nine in some ways because it’s light enough not to make my hands tired.

Minolta Alpha Sweet II | Minolta A 28mm f/2.8 | ConeStill 800T

The Five is an interesting camera in that, far more than other 90s cameras, the Five came in three trim levels. Oh yes. That’s not a widely known fact. And, to be fair, all were marketed as the Five and insofar as I can tell, the trim level variations had to do solely with manufacture date and destination market.

Let’s take my Five for instance. It’s actually an Alpha Sweet II and it’s black. These were only available in black under the Japanese Alpha badge, and only in Japan. And the Japanese-market bodies, black or silver, were the best. Depending on when your Five was made, it may or may not have had a built-in date function. All the Alphas had the date function. But that’s not why the Alphas are better. They also have a switch to select panorama or standard framing. The panorama mode is a 16X7 ratio – that’s a wider ratio than the standard 16X9 for widescreen televisions, and would letterbox on your computer monitor. But that’s not what makes the Alpha better and, again if I’m honest, I think that panorama mode on 35mm cameras was a huge gimmick and silly.

Minolta Alpha Sweet II | Minolta A 50mm f/1.4 | Eastman Kodak 5222 Double-X

But check this out: Here is why the Alpha is better than the Maxxum and Dynax versions. The Alpha Sweet II has a flip-up plastic light leak cover for the mirror where the Maxxum and Dynax Five bodies have nothing, not even a foam strip. That flip-up bit provides better light sealing around the focusing screen but it is added mechanical complexity. And the baffle does make a difference during long exposures and exposures in full sun. So if you’re a serious Minolta fan looking for a Five, go for the Alpha Sweet II instead. It’s worth the added time to find one and the added shipping cost to import it from Japan just to have this light baffle.

Enough specs. How is this thing to use? It’s a joy. It’s a bit clinical, which is to say it’s more like a Nissan than an Alfa Romeo. It lacks the “heart and soul” that photographers will sometimes say a camera needs. But here’s a secret, “heart and soul” is code for tetchy or poorly designed. The Five is like a close friend who is socially awkward, you know you can rely on them but they probably won’t interact well with strange circumstances. In this case, strange circumstances is my code for batteries that aren’t right off the damn production line.

Minolta ALpha Sweet II | Tamron 70-300mm f/4-5.6 | Fuji Velvia 50

The Five is fun and light and it’s easy to forget it’s around your neck if you have a small lens, like the 50mm f/1.7, on it. With a fast 50 prime, the Five is fantastic shooting experience. It’s just an all-around enjoyable camera that, as long as you have good batteries, won’t let you down. And also, the Five is a great way to get access to Sony Alpha lenses. In addition to a large array of great Minolta lenses, these will take the modern Sony Alpha lenses. It’s very hard to beat that.

What it boils down to is that if you want an enjoyable camera that’s reliable, really well laid out, and easy to use, you can do a lot worse than the Five. For the prices these sell for, it would be very hard to do any better.

Minolta ALpha Sweet II | Tamron 70-300mm f/4-5.6 | Rollei Vario Chrome

Nikon FE2 Review and Sample Photos

Nikon FE2 Review and Sample Photos

Nikon FE2 | Nikkor 55mm f/1.2 | CineStill 800T

The FE2 is a legend. How does one even talk about a legend? In stories around fires? With songs? Talking about a legend, about a camera like the FE2, presents no easy task, even for someone who has written reviews for dozens of cameras. The FE2 transcends words and is an experiential thing. A proper FE2 review would tell you that it is something special, like a 70s charger with a 6.1 liter hemi, that it feels good in the hands like a leather steering wheel under driving gloves, that the interface strikes a near-perfect balance between the control selection and placement like a precision-milled gated shifter plate. The FE2 is a precision machine made for the most demanding users.

In a way, this will be a proper FE2 review. The FE2 is something special, enjoyable, and fantastic. But I also simply am indifferent to it. There are cameras that I look at or think about and I say “I really enjoy using that camera. I cannot wait to use it again.” I’ve had an FE2 for almost three years and used it a couple of dozen times. There’s nothing wrong with it, yet after that first time, I never really got excited about going back to it.

Nikon FE2 | Nikkor 55mm f/1.2 | Fuji Superia 200

For those of you who love this camera, I can’t find any fault in it. It’s either the best or the second-best Nikon manual focus camera. It lacks a few of the professional bells and whistles found in the F3, but it has a faster shutter speed and simpler interface. It lacks the purely mechanical shutter of the FM2, but it has a match-needle meter readout that’s immune to the dead LEDs that the FM2 sometimes experiences. In everything photographic, there exist tradeoffs. A given shutter speed may require an aperture that’s too narrow or too deep, a film may have suitable speed but lack sufficiently fine grain. Photography is a hobby or profession of compromises, and the FE2 makes very few and the compromises it makes are largely unimportant. What that means is that the FE2 is a fantastic mix of elegant interface design and capabilities that will leave few, or no, users wanting for more.

And I don’t want more from this camera. I have no good reason why this camera doesn’t excite me, except that maybe, just maybe, this camera is too perfect, too well designed. It has exactly everything I want and expect in a camera and nothing that I don’t need. And the setup, interface, and use of the FE2 check all the boxes on what I want in an ideal camera. The FE2 is my ideal camera; no other camera ever made is a more perfect match for how I would describe the perfect camera. And when I look at it I feel absolutely nothing.

Nikon FE2 | Nikkor 55mm f/1.2 | Kodak Ektar 100

The FE2 evolved from the earlier FE, one of Nikon’s best-known advanced-user cameras. In its progression from the FE, the FE2 shed the unreliable electronics and metering issues that have become increasingly common in FE bodies. The FE2 is largely devoid of electronic issues. The FE2 has very few of its own issues, bar one, and it’s big. FE2 bodies tend to destroy shutter leaves with enough use. No FE2 that I’ve seen has ever had a problem except with the shutter. And on that point, 75% of the FE2 bodies I’ve handled have needed to have their shutters replaced. With time and use, the leaves jump their guides, jam, and damage the shutter mechanism or get creased or have their edged dented in the process. But look, who among us could do better to design a shutter that moves tissue-thin titanium leafs about one inch in 3.3 milliseconds. What I say next won’t sound that impressive, but that travel speed means that to cover a full inch in in 3.3 milliseconds the leafs have to travel at least 17.2 miles per hour, assuming a steady speed for the whole frame travel. While that speed sounds slow, getting a thin sheet of metal to move that fast tens of thousands of times without buckling or creasing is pretty darn impressive from an engineering perspective.

There’s nothing at all wrong with the FE2. There’s enough right about it to fill a book. I don’t know a single Nikon fan who doesn’t truly love their FE2. It’s a fabulous first camera. It’s a fabulous last camera. It’s a fabulous only camera. It’s a fabulous camera.

Nikon FE2 | Micro-Nikkor 55mm f/3.5 | Ultrafine Red Dragon

Detailed How-to videos:

Link to Video 1:
https://youtu.be/pbp1lD0D4Z8

Link to Video 2:
https://youtu.be/bdihtbxL9LY