Depth cue — where it appears
Named by 18 essays across 6 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
Stepping closer is not zooming
Changing the focal length leaves the ratio between any two things in a picture exactly alone — to twelve decimal places, at every focal length there is. Moving changes it. Hold the subject's drawn size across a step from 3 m to 1.5 m and the background halves, which is the whole of the shot everybody knows and nobody derives.
A picture with no size–distance signal
In a system with no diminution the drawn size of an object falls at exactly zero pixels per metre, so nothing in the picture says how far away anything is. Depth has to be carried by something else, and what carries it is height on the page — linearly, and without a horizon.
Two pictures on one screen
A stereoscopic display puts a point where two sightlines cross, so the depicted depth is b·D/(b−d) and the disparity that reaches infinity is exactly the separation of the reader's eyes — 63 mm, at any screen distance whatever. The depth budget is set by the width of a head and by nothing about the scene.
A frame is an interval
An exposure is not an instant, so a frame is an integral of projections and every moving point draws a streak. The streak is straight, because the image of a straight path is straight — and its length goes as one over the depth, so two objects at 3 m and 6 m blur by lengths in the ratio 2.000. No single kernel describes the frame.
Standing in the wrong place
A picture read from twice the distance it is correct from depicts a scene twice as deep — and not one mark on the paper moves. The error is invisible in the picture, which is why it survives everywhere.
The drawing does not say which corner is nearer
The Necker cube is filed under optical illusion, as though the flipping were something the eye does. It is not: a parallel drawing of a cube is a drawing of exactly two cubes, mirror images of each other, and they project to the identical picture to the last bit. Perspective rules the second one out at a rate exactly inverse in the eye's distance, and never entirely.
A wall does not get darker as it goes away
The inverse square law is about a point source. A surface is not a point source, and the picture of a wall is exactly as bright at twenty metres as at two — the patch one pixel covers grows as the square of the distance and the light per unit area falls as the square of the distance, and a picture records the product. Which is why aerial perspective has to be the air.
A lamp lights less than half a ball
Everyone knows a sphere is half lit. It is half lit by a source at infinity and by nothing else: a lamp two radii away lights a quarter of it, and the boundary it draws is a circle offset toward the light rather than a great circle. The offset is R²/D, which means a photograph of a lit ball carries the distance to whatever lit it.
What the two eyes are sent
A reader's eyes are two seats sixty-three millimetres apart, so a curved screen delivers each of them a different map — and the part of the difference no homography absorbs is binocular evidence of the glass. Turned into a depth it comes back as the screen's own sag, 49 millimetres against 47 on a television, by a route that never saw the radius.
A set cut for one eye
Build a colonnade four metres deep and cut every column so that its picture is the picture of one eighteen metres deep. The taper is forced rather than chosen — height and width both scale as the real depth over the intended one — and the match from the design eye is exact to sixteen decimal places. What gives it away is the second eye, and not by the ratio anybody would predict.
A picture in bands
A register picture stacks its scene in horizontal bands, each with its own ground line and every figure drawn at one height. The feet line and the heads line of any pair are then parallel to the arithmetic floor — 0° against 15.4° in a photograph of the same figures — so the picture has no horizon anywhere in it, and what a reader recovers is an ordering with no metre attached.
Turning and travelling blur different worlds
A subject 8 m away crosses the frame at 4 m/s, and the camera keeps it sharp over a thirtieth of a second. Turn to follow it and every still thing blurs by the same 13.5 px, whatever its depth. Travel beside it and the still world blurs as one over its depth — 49 px at 2 m, 1.5 px at 64 m — while everything moving with the subject is sharp at every depth.
An anamorph has one eye
From the design point exactly — a camera's single eye — the floor marks give the design back to sixteen decimal places. A head carries two eyes 63 mm apart, and neither of them is the design point. The difference between the disparity the floor gives and the disparity an upright board would give runs to 47 arcminutes, against a stereoacuity of a few tens of arcseconds. This is why pavement paintings are photographed.
A dolly zoom is a step and a zoom, and they meet at one depth
Step 1.5 m toward a subject 5 m away while shortening the lens to hold its size. Every mark moves along the line from the centre of the picture, to a ten-trillionth of a degree — outward if nearer than the subject, inward toward a limit if further, and not at all on the subject's own plane. The step and the zoom each move everything one way; the dolly zoom is where they cancel.
What one oblique drawing shows
A parallel projection is a linear map from three dimensions to two, so it has a direction it throws away. Slide any point along that direction and its mark does not move — which makes every parallel drawing the drawing of a three-parameter family of solids, and the depth scale a convention chooses is one direction through the family rather than a boundary of it.
A camera on a bend is sharp on a circle
A camera car rounding a 50 m bend at 10 m/s, aimed into the bend, blurs the still world everywhere except at the bend's centre — and under a pixel from 42 m to 63 m along its axis. Off the axis the sharp place comes nearer as the cosine of the bearing, on the circle through the camera and the centre. Above the ground only the vertical line through the centre stays sharp. Aimed along the road, the camera has no sharp distance at all.
A dolly zoom off the axis keeps a line, not a plane
Step toward a subject along a track that is not quite the line of sight, and zoom to hold its size, and the plane that stood still in the classic shot stops standing still. The step now spreads from a point beside the centre while the zoom still shrinks toward the centre, and the two cancel only along one row of the picture, one depth per column. The subject itself slides by f·d·sin ψ over its distance — a pixel once the track is a quarter of a degree out — and turning to follow it holds the subject at the price of bending the rest of its plane, while shifting the frame instead holds the whole plane exactly.
Higher on the page, and where that stops being true
A pinhole's image height above the horizon falls monotonically with depth over the whole 2–400 m range sampled here, and 57% of that whole range lands in the ground's last drawn tenth — the accumulation the oldest depth convention is quietly built from. Above eye level the ordering inverts, and at eye level exactly, five different depths draw one height, a spread of 0.0e+0 px.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
DiminutionDemonstrationForeshorteningStation pointcentre of projectionfield of viewFocal lengthViewing distanceDepth compressionDisparityDrawing systemHorizon