A WALK IN THE PARK
Recently I was back at Leitz Park in Germany for a pre-launch preview of the new SL2 (about which you can read much more elsewhere in this issue). Leitz Park is on the outskirts of Wetzlar – the historic town where the original company was founded back in 1914 – and occupies part of what was once a tank training ground. The €165 million complex includes Leica Camera AG’s main factory, a boutique hotel, a cafeteria, the Leitz Cine lensmaking operation, Ernst Leitz Werkstätten which makes bespoke watches, and a special building which houses a number of gallery spaces, Leica Akademie’s HQ, a museum, a studio, a shop (lock up your credit card) and the company’s archives.
On my previous visits to Leitz Park, I’ve always stayed outside the complex, the hotel being occupied by more important VIPs. This time, I stayed in the hotel – which is an experience in itself given its all-things-Leica theming – and that meant being right in the middle of the complex for three days. Talk about an immersive experience. You could just wander into the shop (just to look, you understand), museum or exhibitions any time you liked. Everywhere you looked was the famous red dot logo. If you like, you can go for a trek along the Leitz Park Natural Trail – armed with a pair of Leica binoculars, of course – which is about three kilometres long and which contains quite a diversity of wildlife.
The idea behind all this is to make Leitz
Park a destination for Leica enthusiasts from around the world. Not quite a Leica Disneyland, but somewhere you can go learn about the company’s long history, its current activities and what makes a Leica camera different (beyond just its price tag). Interestingly, on this trip, there was quite a bit of emphasis on this last point because presumably it’s a question that’s now being asked quite a lot at the retail level. For us media, there appeared to be a multi-faceted answer which became clearer during our tours of the factory, cine lens facility, the museum and the archives.
“Carrying on a legacy costs money,” we were told, and it certainly does when you’re doing it to the extent that Leica is. A lot of investment is going into Leica galleries around the world, the Leica Akademie workshop programs and creating a bespoke retail experience. But costs are clearly a very low priority when it comes to manufacturing cameras and lenses – the materials and processes are all about quality and durability, and an awful lot is still done by hand as the precision of the human being is hard to better. The amount of human input – an M mount lens, for example, is built entirely by one person who has been trained in all the required skills – results in a personal pride in the work done, and the possible recognition that “I made that!” (as Leica meticulously tracks serial numbers).
Under previous ownership, there was less emphasis on the product-related heritage so a lot of important items – such as prototypes – ended up in the hands of collectors. That’s now changed, and the archive is tracking down and re-acquiring, where possible, some of the more important bits of Leica history. Entry to the Leica Camera archive is still a rare privilege, but it’s a veritable treasure trove (and we’ll show you more in the next issue) which also serves to illustrate the value of the brand’s significant contribution to the history of photography.
No other camera-maker is putting quite so much into building long-term relationships with its customers and taking them on the journey of past, present and future. In fact, I can’t think of too many other prestige brands with a similar commitment to creating an all-encompassing user experience – Porsche perhaps.
There’s a whole lot more to a Leica camera than just a camera.