KEKS Camera: The Story Behind the Cult Light Meter Brand

Behind KEKS is a small, dedicated team, and I think it's worth introducing everyone — because the brand really is an extension of who we are as photographers.

I'm Donald, the founder. I lead the brand across the board — from product design to overall direction — but at the core of it, I'm still just someone who fell in love with film a long time ago and never really left. My journey started in high school, when I picked up a Yashica 35 at a flea market for $20. Looking back, it was a bold first purchase — a fully mechanical film camera bought with far more curiosity than knowledge. I took it with me on a trip to Taiwan and taught myself the fundamentals the old-fashioned way: Sunny 16, aperture, shutter speed, ISO — learning through doing. My first roll wasn't great, but honestly, that almost didn't matter. Film taught me early on that analog photography was never just about the results. It was about the process, the feel, the ritual. I was hooked from that very first roll. From there, things went the way they tend to go — more cameras, more exploration, a constant search for the one that felt right. That search eventually led me to the Leica M2. More than a camera, the M2 is an icon to me — one that feels like home the moment it's in my hands. I've since added the M6 and MP to my collection, but the M2 remains my most trusted companion, the one that still puts a smile on my face every time I pick it up. I shoot almost exclusively black and white, which probably says everything about where my heart is. Every product idea at KEKS starts somewhere in this obsession of mine.

Bob, our Head of Engineering, is the one who turns those ideas into reality. If I dream up a concept, Bob is the one who figures out how to actually build it — solving the technical problems, refining the mechanics, and making sure what we imagine on paper survives contact with the real world. He's a photographer himself, shooting everything from 35mm to large format, with his heart belonging to his twin-lens Rolleiflex. That hands-on understanding of what a camera should feel like is exactly why his engineering never feels purely technical — it feels considered.

Daniel, our Head of Marketing, is the voice and face of KEKS across social media. He shapes how the brand speaks to the world — building our presence, running campaigns, and developing relationships with the influencers and creators who have supported us from early on. He shoots everything, digital and film alike, but at his core, he's a Nikon man. His most prized possession is his vintage Nikon F, a camera that reflects the same respect for photographic heritage that runs through everything we do.

Kelly, our Designer, shoots across an impressively wide range of cameras — a Minolta SLR, a Leica Minilux, a Contax TVS, a Ricoh GR, and a handful of point-and-shoot CCD cameras. Ask her to pick a favourite, though, and she won't hesitate: the Contax TVS. Her film of choice is Cinestill 800 — a fitting pairing for someone whose eye for aesthetics shapes the visual identity of everything we make.

Wing, our Store Manager, keeps operations running with quiet efficiency — and brings her own love of point-and-shoots and CCD cameras to the team. And then there's Josephine, our Account Manager, who keeps the books balanced and relationships strong. She doesn't shoot film — but she does document her dog's daily life with remarkable dedication, entirely on her iPhone. We think that counts for something.

The spark behind KEKS was born out of a very real frustration — one that anyone who has fallen down the rabbit hole of vintage camera collecting will recognise immediately. When I first began building my collection, one problem kept surfacing: the built-in metering systems on vintage cameras are notoriously unreliable. 

Decades-old electronics degrade, and repairing them is either nearly impossible or prohibitively expensive. An external light meter made far more sense — versatile, dependable, and usable across multiple cameras. But when I went looking for one, the options were bleak. Most meters on the market were old and equally unreliable, and the one modern solution worth having — the Voigtländer light meter — had already been discontinued. The gap in the market was obvious. What wasn't obvious was how to fill it — until I connected with Bob. 

As a fellow film photographer and camera enthusiast, Bob understood the problem intimately. And as an engineer with a strong background in product design, he had the skills to do something about it. We partnered naturally, united by a shared conviction: the market deserved a reliable, modern light meter built for the cameras people actually love to shoot.

Together, we designed the first hotshoe light meter with an OLED display — and KEKS was born. That founding principle — taking what was lost and making it better — has since become the backbone of everything KEKS creates. The KF01 flash, inspired by the legendary Contax TLA. The M-Meter, a modern reinterpretation of the Leica MR meter. The KEKS Rapidwinder for Leica film cameras. 

These are not imitations. They are products that honour the originals while leveraging modern manufacturing to surpass them. KEKS exists to give great cameras a second life — and to make sure the tools that go with them are worthy of the cameras they serve.

From the very beginning, we set ourselves a clear design challenge: how do you build something new that belongs on a camera made decades ago?

The answer starts with materials. Vintage analog cameras are overwhelmingly built from metal and brass — they have weight, warmth, and a tactile quality that plastic simply cannot replicate. So we made a deliberate decision early on to follow that same philosophy. Our light meters, our flash units — almost everything in the KEKS lineup is built from aluminium and brass. When you mount a KEKS product onto your Leica or your Nikon F, it doesn't feel like an afterthought. It feels like it was always meant to be there. The second pillar of our design philosophy is restraint. We keep our products clean and minimal — a balance between modern sensibility and retro character that lets them sit comfortably alongside cameras with their own strong visual identity. We're not trying to compete with the camera for attention. We're trying to complement it.

That's because, for us, a vintage camera is never just a camera. It carries a history — a past, a story, a lineage of photographers who held it before you. We didn't live through the era these cameras were born in, but that doesn't mean we can't explore it. It just means we get to experience it differently — discovering the past not by stepping backward in time, but by bringing modern technology along with us into it.

That's where functionality earns its place. Our light meters offer a wider range of aperture and shutter speed values than their vintage counterparts ever could — because there's no reason to be nostalgic about limitations. The goal is to use modern engineering to make the entire film photography experience easier, more accessible, and more enjoyable — without ever asking the camera, or the era it came from, to compromise on what makes it special.

That balance — honest materials, considered design, respect for history, and thoughtful functionality — is what we come back to with every product we make.

There's no shortage of so-called "problems" when you look at analog cameras through a modern lens. They were built with old technology, they've aged, and in many ways, imperfection is simply part of what they are. 

Not every quirk needs fixing — and frankly, some of those quirks are exactly what give these cameras their character. So when we decide what to build next, I look at it through a few honest filters.

The first is practical: market size. Analog accessories are rarely universal — many are designed for one specific camera model, sometimes even one specific generation. We're not interested in solving a problem nobody actually has. If a product doesn't serve a meaningful number of photographers, it doesn't matter how elegant the engineering is — it's not the right project for us.

But I'll admit, there's also a more personal filter at play. Take the M-Meter, for example. A large part of our team are Leica shooters ourselves, so this was a product born out of genuine passion — something we wanted to exist because we wanted to use it. That bias is real, and we're not shy about it. The best work tends to come from problems you actually care about solving, not just ones you've identified on a spreadsheet.

In the end, it's a mix of head and heart — market need balanced against my own conviction as a photographer. When those two things align, that's when I know we've found a product worth making.

If there's one thing that would genuinely surprise most photographers, it's just how difficult and unpredictable the manufacturing process actually is. No matter how much experience we build up, there are always unforeseen challenges waiting around the corner.

Part of that comes from the standard we hold ourselves to. Our customers are, frankly, harsh critics — and rightly so. People who shoot film tend to be deeply particular about the tools they use; they expect high quality, and they have very little tolerance for anything less. So we can't afford to be casual about anything, including the details most people would never think twice about. Take finishing, for example — something as seemingly simple as matching a colour correctly can take several rounds of trial and error before it's right. It sounds minor, but on a product this small, even the slightest inconsistency stands out immediately. That level of care takes time.

On average, developing a product like one of our light meters or flash units takes anywhere from six months to a year — and that's for something relatively small in size. Every product goes through extensive trial and error before it ever reaches the market, because we'd rather take the extra months than release something that isn't complete, isn't refined, isn't exactly what we set out to make.

For us, that patience isn't optional. It's the only way to earn the trust of a community that doesn't give it away easily.

I want to start with a disclaimer — this is not an ad.

For a long time, I'd been searching for the perfect small crossbody camera bag. Nothing too large, nothing overdesigned — just something compact, well-built, and genuinely protective. I came across Long Weekend, and honestly, it ticked every box. Best design, best protection — I bought it two to three years ago and it's still my everyday bag. I really love what you do, and I'm genuinely looking forward to seeing what comes next. I'd also like to mention something I find truly impressive — brands like Pentax and Rollei who are remaking new film cameras. We all know how difficult that is.

Bringing a film camera back to market in this era takes courage, conviction, and a deep belief in what analog photography represents. In many ways, they're doing exactly what we're doing at KEKS — just on a different scale. We're all in this together, keeping film alive, and I have enormous respect for that.

In terms of film photographers whose work genuinely moves me, Greg Girard stands in a category of his own. Every image he makes speaks for itself. He travels extensively throughout Asia, and as someone who spent most of my life there, his photographs do something rare — they help me learn about our own past. But it goes beyond the subject matter. The composition, the use of light, the precious moments he manages to catch — it's second to none. I'm still yet to find a photographer who comes close to replacing him for me.

We never think of ourselves as big — and honestly, we're not. We're a small brand serving a niche market that has long been neglected. But there are moments that make me stop and think, quietly to myself, that we're doing something right.

One of those moments came at Photopia in Hamburg in 2022 — the first camera exhibition we had ever participated in. As a young startup, it was the biggest stage we had ever stood on. We had our stand set up, and right next to us was Leica. Then, as I looked around the exhibition floor, I spotted someone casually walking around with a Leica M3 — and our KM02 light meter mounted on top. Then another person, this time with our EM01 on a Pentax SLR. Then more. It was the first time I had ever seen our products out in the world, attached to real people's cameras, completely unprompted. It felt unreal. We also caught the attention of the Leica community that day — and they were genuinely enthusiastic. They loved the design, they loved the idea, and they embraced what we were doing. That relationship has since grown into something we are incredibly proud of: our products are now stocked in Leica stores around the world. To have our work approved and carried by a brand like Leica — a brand that represents the absolute pinnacle of camera craftsmanship — means more to us than any sales figure ever could.

That's the legacy we're building toward. We want to be the name people think of when they think of film camera accessories — a small brand that never abandoned this market, and never compromised on quality. That commitment runs through everything, including our minimum 12-month warranty on every product we make. And then there's the dream. Our name is KEKS Camera — which, I'll admit, is a little contradictory. We don't make cameras. Most of what we do are accessories. But the name was always a statement of intent. 

One day, I want us to make a proper camera. Specifically, a rangefinder film camera. It's an ambition we're still working toward, still finding our way to — but it's never far from my mind. Because if we ever get there, that's the moment KEKS is written into camera history. Not just as an accessories brand that kept film alive, but as a maker that contributed something permanent to it.

That's the legacy I'm working toward.

Be sure to give them a follow and check out their website to ship and send your film scans!

• Follow on Instagram!
• Check out their website!