Seizing the Means of Production with the Soviet Zenit-E 35mm Film Camera

Seizing the Means of Production with the Soviet Zenit-E 35mm Film Camera

2000 1125 Jeb Inge

I spent the better part of a recent Saturday traveling and photographing a number of towns in central Virginia. In the town of Orange it was a vintage Coca Cola advertisement painted on the side of a hardware store. In Culpeper it was American flags and grilled corn. Outside of Madison it was canons on a Civil War battlefield.

I was photographing things quintessentially American, and I had to laugh at the fact that I was shooting them with the Zenit-E, a camera as American as Vladmir Lenin or borsht. My laughter was short-lived, however, as both rolls I loaded that day were ruined by my Western arrogance. In Soviet Russia, it seems, camera shoots you.

But that’s okay, because even though the Zenit is the most stubborn and bare-bones SLR I’ve ever used, it’s a wildly fun machine and an absolute joy to shoot.

The history of the Zenit, and that of Soviet camera manufacturing en masse, goes back to 1942 when Krasnogorsk Mechanical Works (KMZ) started production of cameras in the Moscow suburb of Krasnogorsk. So important was this camera manufacturer to the region that the town included a prism and light rays in its coat of arms. Their first popular camera was a Zorki rangefinder that did its best to copy the Leica II. Quickly they got into the SLR game making a number of cameras under the names Zorki and Zenit.

The first 15 years of production was hard going for the company. Production was far from streamlined, exports were low, and domestic sales numbers dismal. This was a luxury item in a society where luxury items were not affordable for most folk in the years following the “Great Patriotic War.”

But in the late sixties, things began to change for Zenit. The company started using die-cast molding and mass-production methods. The M39 lens mount was replaced with the M42 screwmount thread, and the poorly copied Leica interior was overhauled with an instant-return mirror. All of this led to the birth of the Zenit-E, which would become their first successful, and ultimately their best-selling, camera.

It was produced from 1965 to 1986, a span of time to rival legendary machines like the Nikon F3 and Pentax K1000, almost entirely within the Soviet Union’s Brezhnev Era. And though this era may be bookended by international crises like the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Able Archer exercise, nationally speaking the Soviet economy was booming and prosperity was on the rise. With that came an increased demand for consumer goods – like cameras – that were beyond possibility in the post-war years.

The Zenit-E‘s very design is a reflection of this new economic upswing. From the first time you pick it up, the weight is somewhat shocking. With its die-cast chassis and harsh edges, it wouldn’t be surprising if it were made from the leftover scraps of Soviet T-55 tanks.

The Zenit manual says one of the camera’s biggest advantages is its lightweight design, which makes one wonder what sort of cinder blocks were taking pictures in Russia before the Zenit came along. All I know is you only drop it once before learning to be careful. Not for the well-being of the camera, mind, but for the health of your foot.

This model was then the height of camera design in the USSR, boasting an uncoupled light meter, five shutter speeds, a series of M42 screw mount lenses and a self-timer. Holding it in the hand it’s easy to imagine countless Russians enjoying one in dachas, holidays to the Black Sea, or along the Crimean coast. And the numbers back that up. Zenit sold 3.3 millions of these cameras domestically and throughout Europe.

But that was then and this is now. How does the Zenit-E hold up in 2017?

To fully appreciate the laborious experience of shooting this camera, here’s a step by step guide to taking a photo –

First, load up your film and carefully advance it. The teeth that move the film can be sharp, and as I found out, tear through the film perforations leaving you with dozens of shots on one frame. This will make you mad.

Next, compose your image by turning the small ring on the front of your lens to its widest aperture. That’s the only hope of brightening the viewfinder enough to focus accurately. At f/3.5 I can reasonably focus. At f/5.6 it’s a struggle and by f/16 it’s almost impossible to see anything. Seriously, this is the darkest viewfinder on Earth. I almost used it to watch the recent solar eclipse.

Now that you’ve composed your image, take out your handheld light meter since the one on the camera is inevitably broken. Selenium cell light meters are great if you’re looking to save money on batteries, but Selenium has a shelf life. You may be better off, anyway, since the camera’s metering system uses the Russian GOST film rating system, so even if you find a Zenit with a working meter, you’ll be working with film speeds of 130, 250, 320, 500, etc.

After that, set your shutter speed by pulling the shutter dial up and twisting it until you get the dot lined up with the desired speed. This can be confusing, so it’s best to push it all the way to the Bulb setting and work up from there. Fortunately the camera doesn’t give you too many options, with speeds ranging from 1/30 to 1/500 of a second and bulb mode. This means that film speed is a very important consideration.

Now that you’ve set shutter speed, check your focus again and then rotate the aperture ring until you get the one you need for a proper exposure. Since it doesn’t click into place with each stop, you’ll have to try to be as precise as possible.

Recompose your image for a third time. Consider where the sun is. Is it anywhere but behind you? If it is you’ll almost certainly have significant lens flare to a degree that even J.J. Abrams might blush. Don’t worry – we’re almost done.

Push the shutter button, and smile at how loud and brutal the action sounds. Congratulations, comrade, you’ve taken a picture.

Advance the film slowly because you don’t want to tear the film’s perforations, a common pitfall for users of the Zenit. You’ll quickly learn the difference between when film is being advanced and when it isn’t. If you’re at the end of the roll, get ready to use the rewind knob that’s been happily texturized to resemble the head of a meat tenderizer. You’re in for a long rewind, and your hands won’t be thrilled.

Needless to say, shooting with this camera is a process. One of the things to love about film is that it slows down the photographic process and makes you work harder for quality images. If this is a true virtue, the Zenit may be the most heavenly film camera ever made. It is 35mm photography at a glacial pace.

Because I’m impatient, I don’t particularly enjoy using external light meters. As such, I only have an app on my phone. It’s accurate enough, but there’s something disturbing and jarring using an iPhone and a Zenit-E in the same process. It’s like best friends from very different parts of your life meeting each other.

So if the camera is bare bones, horribly difficult to use, and heavier than a beluga sturgeon on its way to the caviar factory, you might be wondering why we’d ever use one. You may be thinking that Zenit’s lenses are what makes the camera worth your time. You’re wrong, and also a little right.

The Zenit come with one of two standard lenses; the Helios 44-2 or the Industar 50-2. Don’t let the designations fool you. The Helios is actually a 58mm f/2 and the Industar is a 50mm f/3.5. Mine has the Industar, which is a unique nifty fifty pancake lens. Both standard kit lenses produce the swirly bokeh Russian lenses are famous for, and both are as prone to lens flare as Siberia is prone to snow. There’s probably a lot of technical data one could gather to explain these lenses in clinical terms. But when you finally see the images they produce, specs fall by the wayside. Because while this camera is basic, a brick, a pain to use, has a penchant for tearing up film, a light meter that isn’t terribly helpful (even in the rare case it works), uses glass that leaks light like a sieve, and will develop calluses on your hands from rewinding, it might be my new favorite camera.

Well, I should rephrase; it’s the camera that makes my new favorite images.

Shots in this gallery were made on Agfa Vista 200 and Fuji Pro 400H.

Like most photographers, I easily succumb to marketing, image, and reputation. Of course I’d like to shoot an M3 and Mamiya 7ii, but budget has made me choose a Canonet and Pentax 645 instead. Sometimes I don’t know whether I want the “better” cameras because they make incredible pictures or because I’ll look cooler doing it. I’m guessing it’s the later.

If you judge a camera by price and reputation, then you wouldn’t treat the Zenit as anything more than a novelty. I sure didn’t. But once I got the hang of its wonkiness and stopped ruining entire rolls of film, the Zenit came alive.

Taking pictures with this camera is just fun. I love the loud clank of its shutter, the confusion on whether I’m using the correct shutter speed and the closeness with which I listen to the sounds when I’m advancing the film. Shooting with the Zenit makes me feel closer to my photos than ever before.

When my shots came back from the lab, the first look brought with it an ear-to-ear grin. Not only were the photos imbued with a visually distinctive look from the Russian glass, they looked exactly like photos my parents made and subsequently allowed to age for 25 years. Here I am taking photos of battlefields and small towns, and in just a few days I’m seeing images that look old enough to buy a beer. These photos feel like a step out of time. They may not be technically great pictures – cameras aren’t supposed to make the “mistakes” this one does, and we wouldn’t buy new cameras if they did. But more than almost any other images I’ve taken, the shots made with this camera are shots I’d like to hang on my wall.

These are the images you get from a camera that requires patience and extra work. A camera that feels stubbornly proud and unwilling to indulge in luxury – a camera severely reflective of its creators and place in time. Seeing the images it creates, I feel the rising waves of annoyance toward premium cameras. This time it’s not because I want one, but because I know what can be achieved with much less money and features.

I won’t be tearing at the chains of capitalist oppression anytime soon, but the Zenit-E has shown me the photographic power of the people.

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Jeb Inge

Jeb Inge is a Berlin-based photographer and writer. He has previously worked in journalism, public history and public relations.

All stories by:Jeb Inge
  • I bought one for £4 years ago in a London flea market and the results have been sublime…


  • I have the Moscow Olympic edition, but the Shutter curtains fell apart on my very first try with it. Been debating if I should replace it or fix it. This article makes me curious! I do love my Fed 3 (to me, fairly easy to use and produces good images with simular feel as your experiences with the Zenit E I’ll imagine). And, I kind of like lensflare and light leaks. It’s the analog charm! It’s not a Leica, but still a piece of history.

    • If I were to get another Zenit, it would have to be that Olympic version. It’s super cool! I’ve heard about shutter curtain issues with these. Glad you enjoy that Fed 3!

  • Wonderful article. Surely one of your best. Interesting and informative and amusing. Especially liked your line “In Soviet Russia, it seems, camera shoots you.”. Great photos too. Especially liked the photo of the Mustang as I had a very similar Mustang (1966) in the seventies. Would be interested to learn what lab processes and scans your film photos. Thanks.

    • Thanks for your kind words. I’ve lived in Richmond for three years and I’ve never seen that Mustang moved from that spot! I was happy I finally caught it without any other cars next to it. For these images I used Phototech Labs here in Richmond. Great service and great prices.

  • I have a Zenit 12 XP that I love the look/feel of. Yet, unfortunately, the ISO dial is missing a bearing so freely spins—a frustration enough to relegate it to shelf decoration. I should get it out and shoot a roll metering manually. Maybe this article will motivate me to do so.

    • The entire metering system on mine is ornamental, but it sure is good looking! I definitely recommend getting out there with a meter and seeing what it can do for you.

  • Very cool! I have a Zenit 12SD and the TTL. The instruction manual states to NOT advance the film with one long throw, but to take multiple short throws. I guess they know that it would tear the film (or could).
    The hot shoe on the 12SD has some really sharp corners that can definitely draw blood if you get clumsy. I am not kidding.
    These are weirdly beautiful cameras, and the lenses are the best part of them. The only bummer is the effort to push the shutter button. Needs a good run at it!

    • Weirdly beautiful is a good way to describe them. I tend to like heavy cameras but yeah that shutter button really takes some push.

  • Probably the worse camera I’ve been using. Don’t buy it.

    • I’m interested in what makes you think so? Sorry you’re not a fan!

      • Cameras from the 60’s I tried are way better in all points. Picture quality, built quality, ease of use, design and so on. You can buy amazing Minolta or Olympus for almost the same price. So why do this to you? There so many better M42 cameras if you want to use those cheap Russian lenses.
        I was curious so I bought one. I didn’t even try to sell it… I gave it for free to my camera repair man…

  • Just picked up a late edition Helios 44m4 to use on my Fuji mirrorless, purely for the bokeh. Excellent review as always!

  • I have one of these kicking about together with the Helios 44 – 2 and a Jupiter ii 135 . It came into my possession as part of a job lot and I’ve never even looked at it until now . However 1/2 an hour of cleaning and testing confirms that all is good including the light meter and suddenly another new toy is demanding my attention . I can’t quite believe that I’m even considering using this over a cabinet full of quality Nikon and olympus kit . Am I going crazy or is this going to be the start of something beautiful ?
    Great review / site , thanks for the inspiration .

  • Your photos are amazing. What scanner are you using?

  • Just remembered, my Horizon U500/Lomo Perfekt pano camera also rips film if you are not gentle with the film advance lever. What is it w/ Russian cameras and ripping film?

  • Excessively fast film advance is a bourgeoisie conceit, duh. Great article, I can’t use mine because the curtain hangs up, been meaning to adjust the shutter curtains.

  • I have a 1983 issue Zenit-11. It is a small improvement over Zenit-E, introducing automatic aperture stop-down when pressing the shutter button. It is in near-mint condition and I keep it that way because I absolutely hate it. I wasn’t always like that, but my Olympus OM-1 and OM-2s effectively put nails in Zenit’s coffin. The lens you used in the review is Industar-50 which is a copy of Zeiss Tessar (which you already know by now, undoubtedly). It is quite sharp and I used it on digital cameras as well. Other three lense I have for Zenit are Helios-44 (Zeiss Biotar 2.0/58 copy), Mir-1 (which is based on Pentacon Flektogon 1) and catadioptric 500mm lens. It’s still fun to use Zenit every now and then, but I primarily use it for black and white – it’s cheaper for me and the film is much more forgiving than the color one. All in all, my Oly’s are in my bag, while Zen sits on the honorable spot of my living room shelf 🙂

  • Peter Be (@GroundhogOZ) June 29, 2018 at 6:54 am

    I used to have a Zenit E with the 1980 Olympics logo for a couple of years and while reading I remembered working with it and having the same experiences (except for the film tearing).
    When I tried to slimline my camera collection I sold it (thanks to the Helios lens I even made a profit) but somtimes when I shoot my Olympus OMs I think it would be nice to have somthing more … soviet 😀

  • Zenit was my first analog film camera experience. But it is much nicer to use the Helios on a Praktika or even better, what I do, just adapt it to Canon EOS 3000, all the Soviet film looks with Japanese metering, automatic film advance and tons of very precise shutter speeds.

    Also, the two rings on Helios 44-2 are supposed to be used like this, it took me ages to figure this out: There is the stiff aperture ring that has clicks, that is your set aperture. And the other ring that goes smoothly without stops is like the depth of field preview thing that opens and closes the diaphragm quickly, like the button on a Canon AE-1 and many other cameras. So you just click the f stop you need in place, and then open the lens with the smooth ring to see anything for focusing, then close it again, and it smoothly closes up to your selected f number. That is why when you have clicked f2 in place, the smoother ring does not move at all, when you have f16 set, the ring opens and closes freely from f2 to f16…

  • I own one of these. I had no problems with it. However, on the great side, it, mine at least, has one of the greatest focusing screens of any SLR I have used. Just incredible. I imagine I got lucky, it is hard to imagine there was a great deal of consistency in manufacture.

  • I had a zenit e a long time ago. It came with a book on photography using the zenit but alas I lent it to someone and lost it..
    Do you know the title of it and where I could get one?

  • The first (and only) time that I shot a film with a Zenit E body (and a Helios44 lens) I was very surprised by the results : my pictures seemed to have a much larger framing than I remembered shooting them. Actually, I found out – reading the user manual – the groundglass was so small (20x28mm instead of 24x36mm). Much later,after buying a used Spotmatic body at a vintage photo fair, there I found also a Helios44 lens for a couple of bucks. Maybe it’s not so good as Takumar lenses, but I like to use this unlikely pairing of gear.


  • Tamás Kiss-Polgárdi January 5, 2021 at 7:19 am

    My experience as a ’83 Zenit 11 owner is that quality greatly depended on where was it assembled. If on the bottom there is the well-known prism logo next to the Made in USSR sign, then it was assembled by KMZ in Krasnogorsk. Yours however have that weird arrowed wing logo on its back, which means it was made in Byelorussia by outsourcing. They tend to be of worse quality.

  • The camera you have there was made in the Vilejka factory in Belarus. They were made for domestic sale (hence the Cyrillic name on the camera) and were usually a lower quality. The lens here is of Krasnagorsk manufacture and intended for export. So not originally supplied with this E. The original lens for domestic sale would most likely have been made in Kazan in Tartarstan

    In UK soviet cams were imported by the Russian Embassy by Technical and Optical Equipment (TOE) and each one was checked as working before putting it in a UK market box.

    My first system camera was a Kiev 4A bought in 1973 and ‘upgraded’ to a Zenit B (identical to the E except for the meter), as dark as it was, I loved the finder. But I had all sorts of problems with the camera and lens. More flare than a 1971 fashion show, light leaks and, as you said, ripped film sprockets. I upgraded further to a (Praktica made) Exakta RTL1000 with its bright finder, 11 speeds and smooth operation.

    My Zenit B cost me £21. Almost a week’s wages as an apprentice in 1975

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Jeb Inge

Jeb Inge is a Berlin-based photographer and writer. He has previously worked in journalism, public history and public relations.

All stories by:Jeb Inge