<p>I recently attended Photorama event in the Detroit area. This was the first time going to one in more than twenty years and since the collapse of film. The old guys selling gear from before were gone, replaced with different people now my age or younger. At one table full of Soviet cameras, I was fortunate to meet Vladislav Kern. As he is from the Chicago area, I asked if he had heard of my friend and mentor Isaak Maizenberg. He confirmed he knew of Isaak from his reputation and many publications. This has renewed memories of his kind assistance and guidance. I first heard of Isaak in 1990 when I set out to repair a Contax III my grandpa had purchased shortly after WWII. Grandpa had seen it in a pawn shop for $15 with the f1.5 Sonnar and a bad shutter. Grandpa was never able to repair it and it was passed on to Dad. I asked Dad if he was OK with me attempting to fix the shutter, he was happy for me to try and get it functioning again. I don’t remember if Isaak’s contact info came from an ad in Shutterbug or word of mouth while at a Photorama event, but from the first call I felt very lucky to have made his acquaintance. I reached out to him to purchase strap material for the shutter. (This was the issue all along, some well-meaning but grossly inexperienced person had evidently loaded the thing with graphite in an attempt to “free up” the shutter. When this didn’t work it ended up in the pawn shop). Isaak said he would be happy to fix the camera, but I explained I had already disassembled and cleaned it and hoped to do the job myself. Isaak was patient and supportive of this, but also insistent that things be done correctly. He asked questions as a tutor might ask a pupil on how the camera was disassembled and how cleaned, were certain screws of different length separated correctly, was the proper oil thickness used for each component (“this part needs oil thin like broth, this one thicker like a sauce”), etc. Once he was satisfied the work was properly done, he said “good boy! I will sell you the strap.” He was clear that a specified length of strap be used, and that a special “T” shaped stitch be used to fix the ends. With the strap material from Isaak the camera was finished and a film test proved it worked correctly. Dad was most happy to have the fine old camera working, and we both shot rolls with it after the repair. After this first success, I ended up repairing a few more Contax cameras. Isaak would supply the strap material, and during our calls we got to know each other as time went on. It was clear he was a devoted husband and father. He was also translating a book on Russian camera repair he had written: I let him know I would like to buy a copy when it came out. The editing was taking some time due to translations but he was working hard to see that it got published. Around this time my brother was living in central Asia. One day at a flea market he came across an old Zorki from the 1950’s. The camera was clean enough looking but had a dry and sluggish shutter. After haggling for some time, as was the local custom, a price in rubles was agreed to. My brother then asked what the price in dollars might be? He felt every eye turn towards him as he pulled out a couple one- dollar bills to purchase the camera. Once the camera arrived back in the States, I took on my first Leica style shutter replacement with curtains made by Isaak. My brother then found what looked like another Zorki, but what Vladislav Kern has recently confirmed is a FED with Zorki top plate. This was also repaired with guidance and parts from Isaak: he was kind enough to sell a few missing trim screws. And so it went for much of the 1990’s, I would occasionally find an old European camera and Isaak would supply the parts to fix it. Along with the parts came guidance and some history and philosophy.</p>
<p>Once his book came out the repairs were less self-taught and far quicker as the text and illustrations were quite clear. His autographed copy is still a treasured reference. It was evident his text had been used in the USSR to teach other repair technicians: lucid and well laid out. Along the way a Leica shutter was replaced and a few more Contax and some Exakta cameras serviced. He was nice enough to supply parts and even used partial cameras as needed, always at a fair price. Parts would come in reused envelopes and boxes: sensible frugality was second nature to a man who built his business from scratch. Isaak stated that Soviet cameras were built in factories under military oversight and therefore of the highest quality. Nonetheless, he never swapped parts between Leica and Zorky or Contax and Kiev even if they could be interchanged. As someone who was partial to Contax as opposed to Leica, Isaak would comment to the effect that while Leica is very good, it had become simply a better known name. Contax had a better, wider based and combined rangefinder/viewfinder, sharper faster lenses and a faster shutter (my note: which perhaps wore straps faster than a Leica, due to the relative motion of strap and metal shutter.) But people had been more interested in Leica than Contax for some time per Isaak. A German business colleague who had earlier worked for Leitz was in the States for business reasons. I arranged with Isaak a visit as he would be in Chicago. Isaak showed him many of his cameras, including one of the gold-plated Leica’s. They spent much time discussing Leitz equipment, and both let me know afterword how much they had enjoyed the exchange. Isaak also sold very nice used equipment to me over the years. I picked up a Leitz 90mm for a Leica III and viewfinder for same. For the Contax he supplied a Zeiss multifinder, and Soviet 85mm and 35mm lenses with cases. He explained how very fragile lens coating was “better it is never dirty than to try and clean it”: I put filters on all lenses bought right away. While in Europe on business a Luxembourgish friend saw the Leica III and asked if I could find a Rolleiflex? Isaak had in fact just serviced one and it looked, sounded and functioned like new. My friend used this camera for many years and then it sat on a shelf after the digital era was established. Over the course of our calls his life in Ukraine and time spent in the Red Army were discussed as well. He said “Isaak is a Bible name” and that his last name meant “corn hill” in German. He wasn’t sure when the family came to the Ukraine, only that his family name was German but the family had been in Ukraine for a long time. He mentioned while serving in WWII having to march long distances to get to the Tehran conference, where he served as Stalin’s radio operator. He said they wore dress uniforms, and he was shocked to see American soldiers in their fatigues. He felt they looked like maintenance men or the like. Even more shocking was to see them openly bartering: he said this could get you sent to Siberia in the Red Army. He said he was very mindful of always documenting and accounting any equipment that he came across, he needed to return to his family in Kiev and was alarmed at the thought of any detention for acquiring war booty; he would say “you have no idea what it was like, you were born into a different world”. My father was also a WWII veteran and they spoke after the Contax III was repaired, Dad wanted Isaak to know how much he appreciated his support in getting the family heirloom finally working after decades of existing essentially as a beautiful bookend. As men who had shared similar experiences they</p>
<p>touched on their service in their respective militaries. And as men in their late life reflecting on events they were caught up in and had no control over, they were proud of their service and felt a bond for their former comrades in arms, but absolutely would have preferred there had been no need for their service: they knew war for what it was and wished no one would ever have to experience it again. Dad was sure after speaking with Isaak that he had seen a bio in Shutterbug years before. He was able to locate the 1985 piece (see attached scan). I spoke with Isaak after reading this biographical piece, he was thoughtful and reflective that every Soviet family lost someone in the Great Patriotic War. Knowing of his and his wife’s family’s tremendous loss I made the comment that some families lost more people than others: he very kindly but firmly countered with these knowing words: “You simply cannot apply arithmetic to misery. Every family lost someone, every family suffered. It was a national tragedy.” These words and the wisdom behind them have stayed with me. Isaak was a good teacher on photography and on matters far more important. Not long after this conversation with Isaak my father passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. I let Isaak know and he expressed his condolences. Only a few weeks later Isaak’s wife called to let me know her dear Isaak had passed away at a camera show. I was so sorry for her loss, the sorrow was understandably deep. They clearly had been a loving and devoted couple. Soon after Isaak’s passing, I went to digital and the darkroom and equipment sat unused from about 2005. But like something long dormant but still alive, an urge to shoot film returned during the pandemic. When buying film at the local camera store, I now see young people with film cameras; some of them have used my darkroom while learning the basics. Thinking about exposure, aperture, shutter speed again is engaging, even if most of my pictures are still taken with a cell phone. And so it was that I attended the local Photorama. Speaking with Vladislav Kern brought back a flood of memories of film, equipment, and mostly of people, notably Isaak. Vladislav spoke on Soviet era cameras and of some less well-known films too. I ended up with a few rolls of Ukrainian film. A couple are on their way to Luxembourg: my friend has also started using his Rolleiflex again and will shoot this film in the very camera Isaak serviced thirty years ago. It feels like a circle is completed and a fitting tribute to the memory of my friend Isaak Maizenberg. Greg Prior July 9, 2026</p>
<hr>
<h2>The Golden Leicas from An Ex-Soviet War Hero</h2>
<p><strong>By George Gilbert</strong></p>
<p>An ex-Soviet soldier named Isaak Maizenberg has started a new American life. His presence adds an exciting dimension to creative camera maintenance and repair here.</p>
<p>At age eighteen, every Soviet boy is automatically drafted for two to three years of military service. In 1940, Isaak left his Kiev high school to join the service. Thus, when in June 1941 the Nazis attacked Russia, the Ukraine and its food was a prime target. A German blitzkrieg aimed south. Isaak, by then a radio operator, was wounded four times at various fronts, but his most memorable wartime experience was not on the battlefields but at a surprise, brief tour of diplomatic duty. This brought him, as a communications expert, to the famed 1943 Teheran meeting of Franklin D. Roosevelt, Joseph Stalin, and Winston Churchill.</p>
<p>The Germans defeated, Isaak was invalided out of the army.</p>
<p>In 1946, he returned to his much-loved Kiev to find that, during the German occupation, twenty-nine of his family had been rounded up and, as Jews, marched out to a nearby ravine where they joined the 60,000 slain at the Ukrainian Holocaust site, now known as Babi Yar. The young woman who shortly became his wife had her own family horror story; fifty of her cousins, aunts, uncles, and others had met their fate at Babi Yar, while her soldier father died at one of the military fronts.</p>
<p>The retreating, captured, or dead Germans gave up booty previously unknown to the ordinary Russian, such as a Leica, a Contax, an Exakta, a Rollei, a Super Ikonta, and others. One by one, these cameras began to trickle into the Soviet General Service Center, where Russian families brought malfunctioning typewriters, vacuum cleaners, or toasters. Cameras were also repaired and sent to the bench of onetime amateur photographer and now the only camera repairman in all of Kiev, Isaak Maizenberg. Starting in 1946, by scavenging from one to repair another, he learned all about German cameras.</p>
<p>In postwar Russia, there were no sophisticated tools. Isaak worked with a watchmaker's loupe, a file, or a punch. Then he began to build his own tools—tiny screwdrivers, special drills, threading equipment. Without special training, he had become a master mechanic. His Center encouraged him to help other repairmen with instruction booklets and meetings. In the next thirty years, he authored eleven books on Soviet cameras and their maintenance problems.</p>
<p>As a result, he was awarded diplomas and certificates and he soon held the highest award in this civilian field, one which entitled him to a 30 percent salary bonus each pay period for life.</p>
<p>In spite of this, Isaak was determined to leave the Soviet Union for a freer life in the United States.</p>
<p>Isaak had little need to speak English as long as he could use his hands to show a leading repair facility how he could strip a camera. The photo repair world in America, short of skilled technicians, welcomed Isaak to a new land and an old profession. He was back again at a workbench with a screwdriver and a file. His wife Ketti joined the staff in the non-invasive cardiology laboratory of a 450-bed hospital.</p>
<p>Three years after his arrival in the U.S., Isaak launched his own repair business. Today he works on cameras shipped to him from all over the United States. Among them are the very models of Leicas and Contaxes which launched his career in 1946.</p>
<p>Two years ago, Isaak and Ketti started some evening projects which would capitalize on his unique expertise. Accustomed to organizing data for camera people, he wrote the first directory in the English language covering 110 Russian cameras. These he sells to collectors and historians.</p>
<p><em>The First Complete Guide to 110 Russian Cameras from 1929 to 1984</em> is a 40-page soft-cover book which illustrates and summarizes the features of dozens of cameras. Most were never seen in America until the recent wave of Russian immigrants brought a few to these shores. ($10.00 plus postage to Isaak Maizenberg, 6612 N. California Ave., Chicago, IL 60645.)</p>
<p>But more excitingly for the collector, he undertook comprehensive Leica restorations at a level previously unknown in the U.S., except for a few isolated instances. While a number of American experts provide superb service in repair and maintenance of pre-war Leica and Contax cameras, Isaak takes such cameras apart down to the last screw. He repairs and replaces and, finally, he restores a worn camera to a like-new appearance of breathtaking finish. Having brought one such camera to this unprecedented level of regained perfection, he took the outer metal parts to a plating service; his first 24K gold Leica was born.</p>
<p>The gold Leica existed historically starting fifty-five years ago when E. Leitz created the Luxus, a model called the Leica de Luxe, at a price double that of the black Leica A, in 1930 and 1931. The Model A was produced in a quantity of fifteen, serialized from 34803 to 34817. A very few others were also produced, according to Leica historian James L. Lager.</p>
<p>The same treatment is given to lenses so that the working camera with all dents removed and all finish restored is the achievement of a photographic fantasy. The Maizenberg gold Leicas and Contaxes were the talk of the 1985 Shutterbug Ads/Photographic News Fair in Las Vegas. Seated in a walnut presentation case and amid red velvet, the cameras were works of art.</p>
<p>Starting with any screw-mount Leica provided by the client, the body is fully restored and gold plated for $445; the lens, depending on model, will cost $145.00 to $230.00. Gleaming lizard coverings are an additional $85.00 option.</p>
<p>Isaak's repair business is limited only by the number of hands he can put to work on the bench. He finds it difficult to hire skilled craftsmen.</p>
<hr>
<h2>About The Cover: Collectors Go For The Gold!</h2>
<p><strong>By Stan Veit</strong></p>
<p>This month our cover shows a Leica restored to new appearance by Isaak Maizenberg and plated with 24K gold. Starting with any screw-mount Leica, Isaak will repair and replace parts of the camera, then polish it to a breath-taking finish before plating it with 24K gold. Restoring and plating the body costs about $445, the lens cost is from $145 to $230, depending on the particular lens supplied. For an additional $85 the leather work is replaced with gleaming lizard coverings. The unusual story of Isaak Maizenberg is told in the article by George Gilbert in this issue.</p>
<p>The Gold Leica on our cover is just a sample of the gold collector cameras starting to appear in shows throughout the country. At the coming American Society of Camera Collectors show held on September 29th in Hollywood, California, there will be the largest collection of gold cameras ever seen at one time. They are the collection of Raylike Weisel who has restored and gold plated 20 cameras ranging from a Konica to rare Leicas. Included are Stereo Realist, Minolta, and Contax cameras.</p>
<p>Raylike is a television engineer for Philips TV by profession. He is responsible for the installation of commercial TV studio equipment. Cameras are his hobby and his ability in restoring them is completely self-taught.</p>
<p>At the show the gold cameras will be shown in a special exhibit. Two armed guards will cover the gold treasure trove and several ladies will be on hand to wipe the cameras clean after handling by the viewers.</p>
<p>Will this start a trend among collectors? It is too early to tell, but the display of gold plated cameras certainly is an attention getter wherever they are shown. ■</p>
<p>Both articles are from page 6 of <em>Shutterbug</em>, September 1985.</p>