I was never really interested in the art of film photography as a child. As a result of this, I missed out on a lot of things, including the satisfying feeling of putting in a fresh roll of film, setting up that perfect shot and finally, after figuring it all out, hearing what has to be one of the most satisfying sound ever invented – the firing of the shutter.

 Thinking back, the main reason why I never got into photography when I was younger (and believe me, I had plenty of opportunities) was the fact that the consumer cameras of the late ’90s and early 2000s were not all that exciting. I like challenges and the cameras we had lying around the house were the exact opposite. They were the equivalent of today’s point and shoots and did everything for you, but load the film (that task you still had to do yourself). They where there for convenience, so you could take that photo of your kids running around the backyard, or someone’s birthday. The photos would get developed and then, in most cases, stored away in a box, destined to remain unopened for years.

The local photographers and camera shops of the time did their part in discouraging me too, as they refused to let me in on the “secret and mysterious” process of film development, simply because they feared that an eleven- year old kid would suddenly become their competition. Yes, I know what you are thinking – that’s absurd! I agree, but it is the truth. I asked and that is essentially what I was told, though be it in a much nicer, age-appropriate way. 

 Fast forward a couple of years, I found myself in High School in my physics professor’s classroom, showing him my dad’s 1981 “Zenit TTL” – a Soviet camera, inspired by the Leica designs of the time. Professor Zoran Radojcin, who was a photographer himself, eyed the camera for a moment, examining every aspect function. He finished and then proceeded to give me a lesson on how to use the old legend. Well, there I was. Camera in hand, I started shooting everything I thought would make an interesting photo. Unfortunately, due to my own stupidity, I ended up opening the film door and exposing the film, so we will never be able to see those “early works of art” (#sarcasm).

Anyway, life got in the way, other interests arose and it took almost twelve years for me to pick up a camera again. As it happens, this summer I found myself thinking of my High School years and of that camera operations lesson I got from professor Radojcin, so I decided to revisit the idea of “Vidak the photographer”. Surprise, surprise, I did not run to a DSLR, but to the same Soviet SLR – my dad’s Zenit that I had used all those years ago as a teenager.

Over the years, I developed a love for old analog tech and the camera “fit the picture” perfectly (pardon the pun). Though, a bit battered by time, the camera retained its original charm and functioned, all be it with a few hiccups here and there. Rather than giving it the final blow, I decided to wait and have the camera restored by a professional. 

 Fortunately, just as it started looking like my attempt at the old art had been foiled again, a friend from High School remembered that his father used almost the same exact camera. He found it stored in near mint condition and along with a few other accessories, he gifted it to me. It took a while to figure out a few things, like where to find film, reteach myself what I had forgotten of professor Radojcin’s lesson and where to develop it after. About two weeks later there I was again, loading the film, firing the shutter and hearing that satisfying click (with Zenits it is more a loud slam) again.

 I know, I know, after reading all of this you are probably thinking, why go through all that trouble, just to revisit an old hobby? Well, it is rather simple. Nowadays we are all spoiled with our smartphones, “prosumer” cameras and professional DSLRs, able to do everything, allowing us to do as much, or as little work as we want. As someone who has used all sorts of digital cameras through the years, I can tell you this much: I find it a hundred times more satisfying to use a fully manual film camera, such as a Zenit, shooting through an entire roll of film, than taking a photo with a digital camera. Yes, you could argue that cameras like the Zenit ET and TTL are obsolete, but that is only until you see a photo or two taken with the old legend. There is a warmth to the pictures, a certain aesthetic that is tough to explain using the written word, which today’s cameras just can’t even come close to producing. Sure, you could edit in those elements using something like Photoshop, but trust me, it will never as good as the “real thing”.

 Yes, it may be obsolete technology, but analog photography is not just about the cameras you use or the pictures you take. It teaches you to work with your hands, be patient, thoughtful (after all you only have 36 tries) and the ability to “unplug” and allow your mind to be creative in the old – fashioned way. These are all aspects of personality that seem to be more and more lacking in people as we progress deeper into this digital age and while I probably never will become the next Edward Weston, I do intend to preserve them in myself. 

 I would encourage everyone to, at least once in their life stop and look through the viewfinder of an old camera. If you are lucky, you might rediscover the world around you!