Camera Tales No.01 – Pentax K1000

Okay, it’s a bit clichéd to start with an iconic student camera, but there’s a symmetry to beginning with the K1000. See, eleven years ago, I kicked off my camera review series, and the second such review was the Pentax K1000, this K1000, as a matter of fact. And to turn a phrase, this is my K1000; there are many like it, but this one is mine. So why am I starting with the K1000? Well, because it is the second such camera that I clearly remember from my childhood, it captured some of my memories from that time.

If you haven’t already guessed from the introduction, this camera came from a family member, specifically my Opa Luyckx (Dad’s father). Opa was an avid photographer; both he and my Oma captured family life, trips, and everything in between. They almost exclusively used slide film, specifically Kodachrome and Ektachrome. I also remember Opa always having the camera out at family events. While he did eventually acquire a compact point-and-shoot and a digital camera later in life, it was always the K1000 that stood out to me. The last time I remember him using this camera was to photograph my entry into a Lego Space Building challenge in the mid-1990s. I ended up making it into the finals with that entry, but placed a close second. There, he came to the house with a tripod, the K1000, a 200mm lens, and a cable release. The photos look amazing, and I still have them today (prints, not slides at this point). After I started getting into photography, I learned more about Opa’s love of the medium, as well as my dad’s brother, Uncle Ted. My first K1000 came thanks to a trade for a Zenit B and a Helios-44-2 lens, but that K1000 also ended up being passed along to another budding photographer (I eventually became deeply entrenched in the Minolta and then Nikon ecosystems). But when Opa ended up getting late-onset ALS, he began to lose the ability to use his cameras and even walk easily. Now he had always promised me his K1000 kit, but when the time was right. It was the Sunday of my eldest niece’s baptism many years ago. And after the service, I was driving Opa back home to Guelph. He had decided that the time was right and handed over the K1000; it came with the iconic Vivitar flash (285), a Vivitar 28mm f/2.8 lens, and the Pentax 200mm f/4 lens. Thankfully, Opa lived long enough to see me review the camera, witness another great-grandchild’s birth, and even attend my wedding before he passed away.

The K1000 is over-hyped these days, along with several other iconic SLRs; that isn’t why the camera is important to me. This K1000 is a direct tie to my Opa and a rather practical item that I inherited from him, along with my love of photography. The other items included a set of Corningware casseroles with that pattern on the side. I also have an old Northern Electric desk phone, which is more decorative than practical, but not everything has to be useful. However, the K1000 is a significant camera in the history of photography. It was the budget student camera, the one that replaced the Pentax Spotmatic SP1000. A simple, no-nonsense camera that a person could afford if they wanted that top shutter speed of 1/1000″ and a meter. Since then, I have upgraded the lens system on the camera to be more well-rounded. I traded out the Vivitar to another photographer who loves Vivitar glass and replaced it with a Pentax 28mm f/2.8 lens. I also grabbed a 55mm f/2 lens because the out-of-focus rendering is magical. And more recently, I acquired a nearly complete set of lenses for my Pentax MX, including the 40mm f/2.8, 50mm f/1.7, and 135mm f/3.5. So while the kit is far from how it came to me, I feel much better about the K1000 now with a bit more optical variety.

Many photographers can claim the K1000 as the camera on which they learned to shoot. I got the chance to use one in High School during the photography unit of a media English class I took in my final years, or some form of Pentax SLR, the memory isn’t clear. Working in the school darkroom is, however. The camera I learned on was a Minolta Hi-Matic 7s and SR-T 102. With the technical aspect being on the SR-T (more on that later). Learning on an all-manual camera is beneficial, and it is the most effective way to learn photography. I disagree, but that’s a whole other story. So why is the K1000 important to my photographic journey? If that hasn’t become obvious, it has to do with the family connection. Art has always been a strong presence in my family, and it has taken many different forms. My mom has written brilliant short stories, can teach with ease and come up with creative ways to solve math problems. My dad sings and does stained glass with artistry. My brother is a multi-instrumentalist and has even made some guitars himself (under the watchful eye of Opa). Photography is something that is my own, that I shared with my Opa. Having the K1000 also opened me up to the brilliance of Pentax lenses. While many photographers wax poetic about the Super-Takumars, I love the Pentax lenses, which, let’s be honest, are all based around Super-Takumars or SMC Takumars, but with a bayonet mount. It also got me thinking beyond the Nikons and Minoltas that I started with and continue to use today. Having a variety has helped me out a lot as a photographer.

While the K1000 receives a lot of the glory, it is also over-hyped today, probably because many photographers learned on the K1000, and it is such an iconic cult camera. However, there are far better and less expensive options from the same era available today. I want to try to find a KX one day. However, that doesn’t mean the K1000 is a bad camera; you have to know what you’re getting with it. The camera is a K-Car, a nice, reliable camera that will get you photos with no special tricks or help along the way. It takes the photo, enables you to adjust the exposure and focus, but the rest is up to you. The viewfinder is quite dim, especially on slower lenses (such as the 200mm f/4). The metering display is decent, and a simple match needle function (adjust aperture and shutter speed to align the needle in the notch) is available. It does require a modern silver cell, which is a useful feature. The battery only powers the meter, so even without a battery or a functioning meter, the camera will still work. It also has a standard hot shoe. It loads and operates similarly to many other cameras of the era and isn’t too heavy. The one downside is that the meter is always on and there’s no dedicated on/off switch. Instead, the trick is to put a lens cap on, and the meter will be ‘off’. However, the real power of the K1000 lies in its lens mount, which uses the ‘universal’ K-Mount. And there are a ton of excellent lenses available in this mount. You can use almost any Pentax lens on the camera, including some of the early-generation AF lenses, provided they have a physical aperture ring. But it also works with Pentax, Pentax-M, and Pentax-A lenses. You can adapt M42 lenses and use those Takumars. Additionally, a significant amount of third-party glass from Japanese, German, and even Soviet lenses was available in K-Mount.

Most of the time, this camera sits on a shelf with other family cameras that I’ve been given, next to my Oma’s Kodak Instamatic, which she used. That camera was actually made here in Canada at the now-demolished Kodak plant in Toronto, Ontario. I don’t take this one out often; it needs a spa day. However, I took it out, attached the 28mm lens, loaded up a roll of film, and went on a photo walk last month. This time, it worked! I didn’t have a battery in it, so I’m unsure if the meter still functions. But it felt good to have the camera back out on the streets where it belongs. While this camera is currently mine, I see myself more as a steward, holding onto it until one of Opa’s great-grandchildren catches the photography bug. I can pass along a special camera and some extra glass to see where they take it in the future.