Leica Puts a 100-Year-Old Leitz Family Leica I Back Together in Fascinating 2+ Hour Restoration Video

Leica Camera posted a nearly two-and-a-half-hour film called Repairing a 100 Year Old Camera, and it does exactly what the title says. A technician in the company’s own workshop takes apart a Leica I that has lived with the Leitz family since the mid-1920s, finds the cloth that used to keep light out, and puts the whole machine back into working order. There is no voiceover, no score, and almost no cutting. You hear screws, brushes, and the faint click of a shutter that has been doing the same job for a century.

That Leica Camera, also known as the Leica A, departed Ernst Leitz’s factory in 1925 and helped change the game for 35mm photography by allowing people to carry their cameras with them rather than carrying them around. The name, Leitz, and the camera were all it required. This specific body belonged to the family that built it, so the company regarded the repair as a labor of love rather than a standard service. The textile shutter curtains had become permeable over the course of a century. Small flaws in them allow light to pass through, causing frames to become hazy and the shutter to malfunction. The entire restoration is focused on resolving that single issue.

The job begins by removing the body from its casing and removing the base plate. All of the tiny screws are stored in individual trays. The gears, which have been covered with old grease for years, are then thoroughly cleaned. Around the 25-minute mark, the base plate and all of its gearing receive a fresh layer of grease, allowing the winding and transport to run smoothly without grinding. The work then moves on to the part that went wrong. The front and rear curtain assemblies, which Leica continues to refer to as Rollo, are removed from the camera. One of the spring rollers is thoroughly cleaned and greased, and a freshly prepared curtain is attached to it. That part of the video takes more than an hour since you need to get the fabric exactly positioned, the tapes in the right place, and a 100-year-old spring to trust again.

Later, the winding shaft is cleaned and oiled, allowing the film to advance smoothly without jamming. Around the 2 hour and 17 minute mark, the technician adjusts the shutter speed old-school, with a slit and roller rather than one of those fancy modern testers, until the curtains move at the speed stamped on the dial. Only then is the main assembly placed back in its case. The final few minutes feel more like a ceremony than actual work, as the lens is screwed on, the outside is wiped, and a camera that was letting light in is as good as new, rather than a relic.

None of the work in the restoration is rushed, which is really the point, because cloth ages, grease hardens, and a mechanical Leica can still be disassembled, cleaned, fitted with new made-to-measure curtains that the factory still knows how to make, and timed by hand. Digital cameras don’t provide that kind of second life.