Introduction
It’s only right that my first analogue camera review is of my very first analogue camera. Of course, that means I have an emotional bias, but even after using many different cameras since, the experience of shooting with the Praktica LTL3 keeps me coming back for more than just nostalgia.
This particular example was found in a charity shop, complete with a lens set, flash, original instructions, and a stunning red leather case.
Disclaimer: As you will know from my introduction to this site this will not be a technical or scientific review. Just my genuine impressions of the experience of shooting with this camera, how it makes me feel as a photographer and how it is to live with.
For a history of the LTL3 see: https://camera-wiki.org/wiki/Praktica_LTL_3
Appearance
”Classic” is probably the only word for these Prakticas. The silver and black colour scheme is still widely used on modern cameras today. It’s simple, timeless, and I love it. Sure, it’s a little “industrial” and functional in its lines, as is typical of East German cameras from this era however there is something reassuringly unpretentious about this. This feels like a working camera, ready to be used, rather than a display piece. There are a few areas of plastic however, for the most part it looks and feels built like a tank.
Probably its most distinctive feature in an otherwise generic design is the front-mounted shutter release; it takes some getting used to, but it has become a personal favourite of mine. In fact I like the design enough I have a not too dissimilar Praktica upcycled as a one-of-a-kind clock in my home.
While the LTL3 may not be as stylish as some other cameras, I’m a fan of the simplicity.
Controls
As a camera, this is nearly as back-to-basics as it gets with the only “luxuries” in sight being the simple yet accurate light-meter and the “auto” aperture feature found on most later M42 mount cameras.
There’s a solid mechanical film wind on the top plate that is easy and satisfying to operate with your thumb, over a relatively short throw.
On one side of the lever is a small but easy to read frame counter, which conveniently resets itself when you change the film. Just remember it counts up, not down so if you don’t have a full 36 exposure role, remember to stop early.
On the other side of the film advance is the shutter speed selector dial—simply turn it until the red arrow points to your desired speed. The dial moves with a reassuring click and won’t be accidentally budged. You can set the ISO of your loaded film using this same dial by lifting the outer ring and turning it until the correct speed is visible in the window on top. This informs the light-meter of the correct exposure and serves as a handy reminder for the photographer.
To the left side of the viewfinder is the film rewind knob, which doubles as a release for the nicely sprung back door when you pull it upward.
Inside the viewfinder, you will find a simple black indicator needle for the light meter that moves up and down the right edge. When it’s centred in the circle, your exposure is perfect. The meter feels very spot-weighted (considering the light in only a very small, central area of the image), so it’s best to check it against a few different areas of your frame so you can balance the exposure for the whole scene. That said it has proved accurate even with some relatively unforgiving films such as Kodak Ektar.
On the left edge of the viewfinder, a black flag slides into view once the shutter has fired to indicate that you need to wind on for the next shot. Don’t worry about ruining a frame, though—the camera won’t let you accidentally double-expose by default.
The viewfinder image itself isn’t the largest I’ve seen, but it is certainly big and clear enough. Being an SLR framing is easy, what you see through the viewfinder is what you get, if ever so slightly cropped.
Focusing is done through a central Fresnel lens screen, which is highly accurate in daylight. Personally, I do find this type of focusing screen trickier than alternatives like split-image varieties, especially in darker conditions, but it’s certainly workable if you take time with it. to focus on something off centre you’ll need to focus first, then compose your image.
To activate the light meter, there is a black button near the lens mount. While it’s not the nicest-looking button, pressing it stops down the aperture to your lens-set value and activates the light-meter needle in the viewfinder. This design helps save battery life and supports “auto” M42 lenses, which stay wide open to give you a bright viewfinder for accurate focusing, only stopping down to the set value when taking the photo or a light-meter reading.
There are no controls on the bottom plate—just a small rewind release button and a coin-slot circular door for the tiny meter battery. This camera originally took PX625 mercury batteries, which are no longer available. Plenty of replacements exist today; just make sure you purchase the 1.35v zinc-air versions rather than the modern 1.5v alkaline standard, otherwise your exposure meter will overread and underexpose your shots.
To release the shutter, you use that lovely, angled metal button mounted on the front of the body. I love this design, even if it takes some muscle memory adjustments compared to a typical top-mounted shutter release I find it much more comfortable.
You can tell where they cut costs in a few places with plasticky materials, but thankfully, it’s nowhere that actually matters to the operation of the camera. Simple and basic but does the job reliably.
Loading and Unloading
Simply brilliant. This camera uses Praktica’s own quick-load system. Much like more modern cameras, you simply pop the film cassette in, pull the leader out to the little green marker, and close the back. There’s no tedious threading of the film spool, and zero stress.
Unloading is equally drama-free. Press the small rewind release button on the bottom (which then stays depressed) and enjoy the satisfying feel of turning the rewind knob slowly and deliberately before you pop open the nicely sprung back door.
Shooting Experience
Mechanical perfection. This is a camera that forces you into a rhythm, requiring you to sync up with its physical process—and it will reward you with wonderful photos if you pair it with the right lens.
Wind on — meter — set shutter — set aperture — focus — compose — release — repeat.
I adore the front-mounted shutter, and all the controls are intuitive, clear, and exactly where you want them to be. This is a camera that seamlessly blends into your creative process without causing frustration. It’s quick enough when you need it to be, but slow enough to let you enjoy the journey.
The only catch is the tricky focusing screen, a non-issue for f/11 landscapes but gets frustrating in low light, close up or shallow depth of field work
Gallery
Photos below taken with Praktica LTL3 and either a Zeiss Flektogon 35mm f/2.4 or a Zeiss Sonnar 135mm f/3.5 (both lenses I absolutely love, brimming with character and a joy to use!).
Reliability
Disclaimer: Every vintage camera is different, and the condition of my specific example will likely differ from yours.
The simplicity works in your favour here; there really isn’t much to go wrong. Praktica’s metal focal-plane shutters are renowned for being absolutely bulletproof, and mine works flawlessly. However, I’m not a huge fan of the plastic trim used on parts of the housing, as a few cosmetic cracks can appear in these early plastics over the decades.
Perhaps the worst aspect of reliability—and this is common to a great many SLRs of this era—is the felt light seals. They degrade over time and will need replacing.
The good news is that this changing light seals on this cameras is a cheap DIY job (I did it myself). The bad news is that cutting and scraping the old foam can be a precision, time-consuming task on a camera like this, where pre-cut kits aren’t common. Once done, though, you’ll enjoy decades more of happy photography.
Lenses
This is an M42 screw-mount camera, fully supporting all the “auto” aperture features of the system. This means you have access to arguably the greatest vintage lens ecosystem in history. Lenses are plentiful; the variety is staggering, and the optical quality is top-notch. From premium Carl Zeiss Jena glass to classic Pentax Takumars, you are sure to find any focal length you could wish for at very reasonable prices.
Who’s It For
- People who love pure mechanical simplicity
- People who want a cheap entry point to an ecosystem of truly amazing lenses
- People who want to learn manual photography
Conclusion
Praktica cameras were built cheaply and sold in massive numbers, which means they are extremely plentiful on the used market today. Finding a nice, working example is neither difficult nor expensive. If you’re looking for a forgotten camera of your own check out our buying guide.
And yet, they are robustly built and feel incredibly reassuring in the hand. They accept some of the very best lenses of their era and can, with enough patience, take photos just as good as a camera costing five times as much.
A perfect first introduction to manual, analogue photography and an underrated gem.
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