I remember the first time I hauled an Arax 60 out of its box; it felt less like unboxing a camera and more like I'd just been handed a piece of heavy machinery. If you've spent any time in the film photography world, you know the allure of medium format. There's just something about those massive 6x6 negatives that makes 35mm look like a toy. But for most of us, dropping several thousand dollars on a Hasselblad or a Rollei just isn't in the cards. That's exactly where the Arax 60 comes into play, offering a rugged, mechanical, and surprisingly reliable entry into the world of "big film."
To understand why this camera is so cool, you kind of have to know its backstory. The Arax 60 isn't built from scratch in some high-tech modern factory. Instead, it's a heavily modified and upgraded version of the old Soviet Kiev 60. Now, the original Kiev 60 had a bit of a reputation. While the optics were legendary, the build quality was let's call it "inconsistent." You might get a great one, or you might get one that ate film, leaked light, or had a shutter that sounded like a bag of bolts. The folks at Arax, based in Kyiv, took those raw materials, stripped them down, fixed the engineering flaws, and turned them into professional-grade tools.
The mechanical feel of a legend
When you hold an Arax 60, you're holding a lot of metal. It's a waist-level or prism-finder SLR, and it feels every bit as substantial as it looks. Unlike the tiny plastic buttons on modern mirrorless cameras, everything here is tactile. The film advance lever has a long, satisfying throw. The shutter button requires a deliberate press. It's a camera that forces you to slow down, which is honestly half the reason I still shoot film anyway.
One of the biggest upgrades Arax brings to the table is the internal flocking. If you've ever shot with an old Kiev, you know that internal reflections could sometimes wash out your images. Arax lines the inside with a deep, light-absorbing black material that makes the contrast pop. They also recalibrate the shutter speeds. On a vintage Soviet camera, "1/500th" was often more of a suggestion than a rule. With the Arax 60, you actually get the speeds promised on the dial, which is pretty crucial when you're paying a couple of dollars every time you click the shutter.
That glorious 6x6 frame
There is something magical about the square format. Shooting 6x6 on 120 film means you don't have to worry about flipping the camera for portraits or landscapes. You just compose within the square. The Arax 60 gives you twelve shots per roll, and because the negative is so much larger than 35mm, the level of detail is staggering. You can blow these photos up to poster size, and they'll still look crisp and creamy.
The viewing experience is another highlight. If you use the waist-level finder, you're looking down at a massive, bright piece of ground glass. It's like watching a 3D movie of the world in real-time. It changes the way you interact with your subjects, too. Instead of hiding your face behind a black box, you're looking down, staying engaged with the environment. It feels more like you're "crafting" an image rather than just "snapping" a photo.
The glass is the real secret
You can have the best camera body in the world, but if the lens is junk, the photos will be too. Luckily, the Arax 60 uses the Pentacon Six (P6) mount. This opens up a world of incredible glass that won't break the bank. Most Arax kits come with the 80mm f/2.8 Volna-3, which is a fantastic lens with a lot of character. It's sharp where it needs to be but has a beautiful, swirly bokeh that you just don't see in modern, clinically perfect lenses.
But the real fun starts when you look for Zeiss Jena lenses. Since they share the same mount, you can slap a Zeiss 180mm f/2.8 Sonnar on this thing—a lens so heavy it has its own tripod mount—and take portraits that look like they belong in a museum. There's also the Mir-26B 45mm for wide-angle shots. The versatility of the P6 mount is one of the main reasons the Arax 60 remains a staple for serious film hobbyists.
Dealing with the "Beast" factor
I won't lie to you: this camera is a workout. Carrying an Arax 60 around your neck for four hours will make you want to see a chiropractor. It's not a "street photography" camera in the sense that you can be stealthy. When that mirror flips up, it sounds like a car door slamming. Everyone in a fifty-foot radius is going to know you just took a picture.
However, that weight also helps stabilize your shots. There's so much inertia in the body that it dampens some of the hand-shake you might get with a lighter camera. Arax also includes a mirror lock-up (MLU) feature on many of their models. This is a game-changer for landscape work. You can flip the mirror up first, let the vibrations settle, and then trigger the shutter. It's a small detail that makes a huge difference in sharpness.
Why it beats the "Big Names" for me
People often ask why I'd choose an Arax 60 over something like a Mamiya or a Pentax 67. The answer usually comes down to the "soul" of the machine and the price-to-performance ratio. A Pentax 67 is an icon, sure, but it's also become incredibly expensive and difficult to repair. The Arax is still being serviced by the people who built it. If something goes wrong, you can actually get it fixed without hunting for "donor" cameras on eBay.
Plus, there's a certain underdog charm to it. It's a tool that doesn't apologize for what it is. It's purely mechanical, mostly manual, and requires you to actually know what you're doing with a light meter. It rewards patience. When you get a roll back from the lab and see those perfectly exposed, tack-sharp 6x6 frames, there's a sense of accomplishment you just don't get from a digital sensor.
Some tips for new owners
If you decide to pick up an Arax 60, there are a few things you should know. First, learn the "Kiev ritual" for loading film. You have to keep tension on the spool, or you might end up with overlapping frames—though Arax has mostly fixed this issue with their modified transport systems. Second, don't change the shutter speed before you cock the shutter. It's an old-school mechanical quirk that can jam the gears if you're not careful.
Also, invest in a good strap. The lugs on the Arax are sturdy, but your neck will thank you for something padded. And finally, don't be afraid to use it. These cameras aren't meant to sit on a shelf and look pretty. They are built for the field. I've taken mine through dusty trails and cold mornings, and it's never missed a beat.
Final thoughts on the Arax 60
In a world where everything is becoming automated and digital, the Arax 60 feels like a rebellion. It's big, it's loud, and it's heavy, but it produces images with a depth and texture that's hard to replicate. It's the perfect bridge between the affordable (but risky) vintage Soviet gear and the high-end European medium format systems.
Whether you're a student looking to see what the fuss is about regarding medium format, or a seasoned pro who wants a rugged backup that uses Zeiss glass, this camera is a serious contender. It's got character, it's got history, and most importantly, it takes damn good pictures. Just make sure you've been doing your push-ups before you take it out for a day of shooting.