LEICA M8.2: Is Ten Megapixels in 2026 Enough?
Shot with the Leica M8.2 with Summicron-M 50mm f/2
I didn’t expect a camera from 2008 to impress me.
This whole thing started the moment I saw a Leica M8.2 sitting for sale at Stavanger Foto. A camera from 2008. Ten megapixels. A CCD sensor ( developed by Kodak ).
And I did some digging, and after a lot of time spent on YouTube,
I came across Dave Herring´s video and sample images.
After watching the video he made, I just thought, let´s buy it. I must say, I’ve used a lot of cameras in my life. New ones. Old ones. Digital monsters with endless resolution, and film cameras that smell like history. So when I say this might be one of the most interesting and exciting cameras I’ve ever used, I mean it. The colors it produces are some of the most beautiful I’ve seen in a very long time.
Ten megapixels shouldn’t do that. But this one does.
I find myself happy when I pick it up. Properly happy. Not “content creator productive” happy. Not “this will perform well online” happy. But that simple, internal spark that says: let’s see what happens. I go out shooting without a plan. I come home excited to see the photos, not because I expect them to be perfect, but because I’m genuinely curious. That curiosity is rare.
It’s the same feeling I get with my Leica M6. That same mental shift where photography stops being about results and starts being about presence. Where you slow down physically, but something in your head speeds up. You notice light again. You notice timing. You notice yourself.
The M8.2 doesn’t feel like a digital camera trying to be something else. It feels honest about what it is. It has limitations, and instead of fighting them, it invites you to work with them. You don’t spray. You don’t rush. You don’t chimp endlessly. You trust your eye again.
And then you open the files.
That’s the part that still messes with me, is that this camera produces the same as if it were shot with a brand new camera from 2026.
You look at the images and there’s no way you’d guess they were shot on a digital camera from 2008. No way. There’s something in the tonality, in the transitions, in the way light behaves, that feels closer to memory than to measurement. The files don’t scream. They whisper. And they give you just enough to work with without overwhelming you.
This camera doesn’t try to impress you. It doesn’t try to compete. It doesn’t care what year it is.
Some cameras are tools. Some are machines. Some are incredibly capable computers with lenses attached. But every now and then, you find one that does something else entirely. It reminds you why you started. Why you fell in love with photography before specs, before trends, before perfection became the goal.
The Leica M8.2 does that for me.
And that’s why a ten-megapixel camera from 2008 is giving me more excitement than many modern cameras ever have. Because it doesn’t ask for more. It asks for attention. And in return, it gives you something rare.
That feeling.
