For over forty-five years, Philippe Raybaudi has practiced the craft of repairing vintage cameras in France. Today, he is internationally recognized, particularly for his expertise in the complete restoration of Widelux cameras.
These legendary panoramic cameras have become increasingly difficult to service, as specialized Widelux repair workshops are now exceedingly rare worldwide.
In the inaugural post introducing The Widelux Club’s website, Philippe talks about his passion for photography and mechanical cameras, while also sharing valuable insights into the Widelux and its enduring legacy.
Philippe, hello! Thanks you again for agreeing to this short talk. It’s a real pleasure to have you as the first interview on the new Widelux Club website.
Q: First of all, we’re eager to know - when did your interest in cameras begin? How did that turn into your craft?
A: My passion was born in the late 1970s, long before the digital photography revolution.
My grandfather was a professional photographer in Marseille, and my father, an elementary school teacher, was a recognized expert in emerging audiovisual technologies who ran a photography school. From my earliest years, I assisted my grandfather in his darkroom, surrounded by the scent of hyposulfite baths under the dim glow of safelights.
At age 7, my father gave me my first camera—a Kodak Brownie Hawkeye. By 11, my grandfather presented me with a Foca Universel RC (with coupled rangefinder), then the finest professional camera made in France. Even at that young age, I was already capable of independently shooting wedding assignments to help my grandfather in his work. He would drop me off at one church while he covered another wedding elsewhere. Thus, I learned professional shooting techniques and darkroom skills very early.
By 12, I had developed a keen interest in electronics, studying through books and equipment my father provided, as well as technical magazines to which I subscribed. I was already skilled with my hands, happily disassembling reel-to-reel tape recorders, projectors, cine cameras, and—of course—photographic equipment, often successfully repairing them. Fascinated by technological progress and the space race (this was the era of the first moon landings), I built my own electronic measuring devices, basic audio amplifiers, and even simple TSF radio receivers.
At 14, I had the incredible fortune to meet two master artisans who, recognizing my passion for technology, took me under their wing in their workshops. I watched their movements, learned the value of precision and well-executed work, and absorbed the ethics of skilled craftsmanship. They taught me to feel the life of micromachines, to sense tolerances with my fingertips, and to fabricate my own tools when none existed.
After these formative years and specialized technical training in micromachinery and electronics, I began repairing cameras professionally in 1977—at just 17 years old. By 1983, I officially established my own repair workshop while continuing my education in technology and electronics.
Q: Along this journey, how did the Widelux camera first come your way? Was it after you’d already started working on cameras, or had you seen it before?
A: Indeed, the Widelux—like other prestigious camera brands—came into my life later for a simple reason: one must first gain extensive experience working on thousands of simpler cameras before tackling the repair of far more complex, prestigious, and expensive models like Bronicas, Rolleiflexes, Plaubel-Makinas, or Hasselblads.
Widelux cameras were also particularly challenging to approach. Despite their seemingly rudimentary—even rugged—design, they are extremely difficult to adjust properly. No two Widelux cameras are truly identical, as their handcrafted production involved countless individual adjustments. Thus, successfully restoring one requires great experience, infinite patience, and exceptional dexterity.
Q: Everyone here knows you’re a Widelux magician. But are you ever behind the camera yourself? How’s your relationship with photography as an art form?
A: Of course, I'm also a photographer myself—I'd say it's essential to being a good technician. You need to understand user's expectations, the nuances of shooting, the intricacies of sensitometry, the behavior of negative and positive emulsions, the effects of chemical baths, and more to grasp which parameters and adjustments influence the final result.
I was fortunate to work for the international press agency Sipa-Press as one of their correspondents in Eastern Europe right after the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the Cold War. In January 1990, I found myself in Romania shortly after the fall of Nicolae and Elena Ceaușescu's regime. My main assignments focused on education, healthcare, and military sectors. It was in Transylvania that I was invited to teach Western photojournalism techniques at the prestigious Ioan Andreescu Academy of Visual Arts in Cluj-Napoca.
Beyond my professional photography certification (CAP, 1978) and my engineering-level training in biomedical technologies (electronics, micromachinery, fluidics, optics), I also pursued studies in communication sciences (Master 1, 1998). Later, I earned a DESS (Master 2, 2003) in sociology, as research methods—life histories, field ethnology, observation, and anthropology—complemented my photographic approach, particularly in how they shaped human interactions during shoots and the impact of images on viewers. Naturally, this led me to explore semiotics of the image, studying the relationship between composition and iconic elements that define the meaning and impact of visual messages.
My involvement in panoramic photography came much later. It was directly inspired by Jeff Bridge's incredible idea to physically revive the Widelux through The Widelux Revival Project, currently in development in Germany under SilvergrainClassics. I’m fortunate to collaborate on this project, though it’s still too early to share more details. What’s certain is that the Widelux X project is clearly making excellent progress!

(2025-07-11, Photo Philippe RAYBAUDI, Widelux F8)

Q: I think we all agree that the Widelux is an incredible camera. But like every tool, it also has its flaws. In your experience, why do you think this particular model receives so much praise even though there are other swing-lens panoramic cameras out there? 
A: The Widelux's greatest strength lies in its fully mechanical nature. No electronic camera can match its longevity. Electronic equipment inevitably becomes obsolete—its components become unobtainable or prohibitively expensive to reproduce, while printed circuits degrade over time.
In contrast, metal gears, screws, and springs will still be manufacturable three centuries from now. As a staunch advocate for reliable, durable equipment, the debate is settled for me: the Widelux is the Master of Time!
Yes, one might criticize its ruggedness and minimalist features, but once mastered, it delivers excellent images. When properly maintained and regularly used, it becomes virtually indestructible.
Of course, it has its flaws—such as banding when the turret rotation isn’t smooth. But like a classic car, a Widelux requires periodic servicing. You should never wait for a breakdown, as degraded lubricants accelerate wear on irreplaceable parts that would then need custom fabrication. A full service every five years, depending on usage and storage conditions, is far more cost-effective.
With mechanical cameras, it’s essential to regularly operate all controls to prevent mechanisms from seizing due to hardened lubricants. A monthly exercise—cycling through all shutter speeds and adjusting the aperture—is the bare minimum I recommend.
However, I strongly advise against manually "massaging" the turret, as this puts lateral stress on the light seals and overburdens the tiny ball bearings. Instead, it’s better to regularly cycle through all speeds by normally cocking the mechanism—without film inside.
Q: Now to a more technical topic. One question I often get from club members is whether there’s any significant difference between the 35mm “F” models. I usually say they’re essentially the same, aside from a few minor tweaks and the improved gear system in the F8. Assuming that’s accurate, do they all require the same kind of regular maintenance?
A: At first glance, all Widelux cameras look alike, but in reality, they are quite different.
The Widelux 35mm FI, FV, and FVI (1958–1969) are much more difficult to service and adjust due to their higher number of components. For example, where a single gear train part exists in a Widelux F8, the FV has five. Additionally, the main turret axis was threaded in early models, secured with a nut and locknut—a feature quickly discontinued. More parts mean a higher risk of misalignment and, inevitably, more time spent on adjustments. The Widelux 35mm F6, F6B, F7, and F8 (post-1970) have a simpler design and are generally easier to restore to working condition.
That said, each Widelux underwent numerous adjustments and modifications during production. That’s why I often say no two Widelux cameras are identical—each has unique internal adjustments and variations.
Externally, all Widelux models look similar, but internally, there were three different gear designs:
•    The FI to FVI had larger, straight-cut gear teeth, which were more prone to causing vertical banding on negatives.
•    The F7 had similarly sized but helical-cut gear teeth, resulting in smoother operation.
•    The F8 featured smaller, finer helical-cut gear teeth.
Despite these differences, all Widelux models require the same regular maintenance. Without it, irregular turret movement will eventually cause vertical banding or image skipping. I recommend a standard CLA (Clean, Lubricate, Adjust) service every five years. Poor lubrication can lead to premature wear, mechanical stress, and gear desynchronization. Since replacement parts are no longer available, preserving the original components is crucial.
For Widelux cameras left inactive or unserviced for long periods, a full restoration is necessary. This involves a complete disassembly of nearly all parts, including:
•    Removing the turret after taking out the anti-torque silent blocks, main spring, and end-stop adjustment plates.
•    Disassembling the winding mechanism and speed control system, including the governor weights and the slow-speed clutch anti-reverse mechanism.
•    Resurfacing certain parts (especially rotating axes) and restoring surface treatments via electrolysis, bronzing, or painting.
•    Fabricating new parts, such as end-stop dampers, turret light seals, felt strips, and back door gaskets.
•    Disassembling the slit shutter and lens mount plate with its aperture ring to access, clean, free, and lubricate the ball bearings and drive shafts deep inside the mechanism.
•    Cleaning and applying a preventive fungicidal treatment to the optical elements of the lens and panoramic viewfinder.
Reassembly then includes:
•    Reaming and possibly installing bushings in the speed control mechanism’s bearing housings (depending on wear and deformation).
•    Lubrication.
•    Adjusting gear tension.
•    Synchronizing the turret with the winding mechanism and the slit shutter’s end stops, followed by bench testing and real-world film testing.
This process is detailed on my website: https://mondepanneur.fr/widelux-troubleshooting
Q: After all these years, I’m sure you’ve had the chance to work on hundreds of Widelux units. Do you have any interesting stories to share? (Maybe a destroyed one you managed to save, a unique unit, or an issue you had never seen before)
A: No Widelux is beyond repair. The only potential issue is the cost of manufacturing parts. Even bodies severely damaged by impacts or falls can be restored—it’s time-consuming, but entirely possible.
My biggest surprise came when I once discovered a Widelux F7 fitted with an electronic flash socket. Inside, I found a round circuit board with a row of rotary contacts, clumsily glued to the lower ball bearing of the turret and connected to a dual spring contact like those found on some lens mounts.
Beyond producing a series of flashes with barely controllable light overlap, I seriously doubt this setup ever worked properly. In fact, nothing was fully completed! I quickly dismantled this bizarre contraption to restore the Widelux to its former glory.
Q: Now, to everyone’s surprise, the Widelux is being brought back to life through the WideluxX project. How did you feel when you heard the news? And if you could suggest one improvement for this new project, what would it be?
A: Of course, I quickly heard about the WideluxX project and was immediately enthusiastic. It’s an incredibly ambitious endeavor because, following the fire that destroyed the Panon factory in the early 2000s, it seems that no traces remain of the original production tooling, blueprints, or technical documentation. This meant a massive reverse-engineering effort was ahead.
Yet, from my modest perspective, the project is making impressive progress...
In my view, the WideluxX should retain as many elements as possible from its predecessor, the F8, on which it is based. Modern computer-aided manufacturing tools and CNC machines already make it possible to correct some of the original flaws.
Additionally, the collective experience of users and the few remaining active workshops around the world are valuable assets that could make this future Widelux far more reliable than its predecessors and less prone to banding issues.
I believe we should preserve the ruggedness that has given this legendary camera its longevity.
I am convinced that the Widelux Revival Project team has the capability to produce a new Widelux that will honor its lineage while being significantly more advanced.
 Q: If people want to know more about your work, where can they find you?
A: It’s easy to follow me on social media, where I share advice and help enthusiasts and those who want to learn this beautiful craft or simply maintain their own equipment properly.
I’m primarily active on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PhRaybaudi
I also participate in the following Facebook groups:
•    Learn Camera Repair;
•    Lens repair;
•    Répar’gentique;
•    Bidouilles Photographie.
You can also visit my multilingual website (select languages using the flags at the bottom left of the pages): https://mondepanneur.fr/
On my website, you’ll find:
•    A list of the cameras I still service: https://mondepanneur.fr/services/liste-des-appareils
•    An explanation of my work philosophy and why restoring vintage cameras requires a lot of patience—it takes a long time!: https://mondepanneur.fr/a-propos/quel-delai 
Thanks again, Philippe, for chatting with us. I won’t keep you any longer - I’m sure there’s a mountain of cameras waiting for you. Hope to have you back soon since the community still has tons of questions for you!
In conclusion, I would like to express a wish that goes beyond the realm of photography.
I have been fortunate to be born in a beautiful country, during a prosperous and relatively conflict-free era. But I have also experienced life, on multiple occasions, in countries ravaged by war or plunged into political, economic, and social chaos. Our world is largely devastated by the greed and incompetence of our leaders, as well as by the rapacity of powerful multinational corporations that, without scruples, destroy life, pollute the planet, and squander its resources.
Beyond my passion for this profession, which I am still fortunate to practice, I dream of a less brutal, fairer world. A world where, everywhere, ordinary people like me rise up peacefully and, through their simple refusal to participate in an unjust system, put an end to the grip of a minority that hoards all the wealth.
If all our peoples resisted together, we could "block the economy" simply through a period of stillness—without breaking anything, without attacking anyone, and without risking exposure to tear gas. Simply by staying at home until all the oppressors step aside in favor of competent, courageous, and upright members of civil society, guided by respect for the common good and the public interest.