Focal length — where it appears
Named by 55 essays across 16 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The point you have to stand at
A perspective picture is a projection through a centre, and scaling that centre's distance to the width the picture is actually shown at gives a distance in centimetres. Shown 160 mm wide, a 40° picture is correct from 22 cm and a 90° one from 8 cm. Nobody stands there, and that single fact explains most of what gets called distortion.
The cube that is a box
The two-point cube every book teaches has a step it supplies no construction for. Place the two far edges symmetrically and the drawing depicts a square plan for free; place them eight points apart — a difference invisible on the page — and it depicts a box 1.4 times shallower than it is wide.
Straight lines that are not
Everybody says the edges of a wide-angle frame bow. Nothing is special about the edge. A radial map moves every point along its own radius, so the only line it leaves straight is one through the principal point, and the bend of every other is decided by how far it passes from that one place.
The image of the other eye
Two photographs of one courtyard, and in each of them a point that is the other camera. It is computed from forty-four matched marks and nothing else, and it lands on the projection of the other eye to about a billionth of a pixel.
Depth is a reciprocal
Two eyes measure a shift in the picture, and depth is that shift divided into a constant. So a fixed error in what is read maps to an interval in what is reported that is not centred on the answer, and at forty metres runs sixteen metres nearer and eighty-six further.
A scroll is a camera that moves
A Chinese handscroll is not a picture with a wandering viewpoint or a picture with no viewpoint. It is the image of an eye that travels along a track and records one vertical line at a time, and that object has an exact geometry — orthographic along the roll, perspective across it.
The divide is postponed, not avoided
A renderer does not divide by depth. It multiplies by a four-by-four matrix that carries the depth in a fourth coordinate and divides later, and the postponement is not an optimisation — it is what makes clipping and texture interpolation possible at all. The matrix and this site's pinhole put every point on the same pixel to five parts in a hundred trillion.
A focal length is not an angle
Fifty millimetres means nothing until a rectangle is named behind it. The same lens is 39.6° across full frame, 26.6° across APS-C and 8.7° across a phone sensor — and the distance the resulting print is correct from depends on the ratio of the two, so two cameras matched on angle agree exactly whatever their formats.
The screen sets the distance
Every viewing distance quoted for a picture on a page is conditional on an assumed figure width. Replace the assumption with an actual chain — focal length, sensor width, display width — and the same 50 mm frame is correct from 9 cm on a phone, 83 cm on a monitor and 16.7 m in a cinema. Nobody is standing at any of them.
The measuring point, and the step the method leaves out
Laying out equal depths correctly needs a second vanishing point that most treatments never introduce — the one belonging to the diagonals. With it the construction lands on the projected divisions to eighty femtopixels. Without it, depth is placed by judgement and the drawing depicts something nobody chose.
A lens destroys the invariant
The cross-ratio is the one thing a projection preserves, and nearly everything checkable about a photograph is checked with it. A lens returns it one and a third per cent out where the pinhole is exact to fifteen digits — and the height error that follows tracks a quantity nobody would guess.
The range a pair cannot see past
A stereo rig has a distance beyond which it cannot say "no further than", and the distance is fixed before anything is built. It is the focal length times the baseline divided by the reading precision, and for a human pair of eyes it is fifty-eight and a half metres.
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.
Recovering the camera from the picture it drew
Draw a box from a known camera, forget the camera, and get it back from the twelve drawn edges alone. Agreement to one part in 10¹⁵ is a statement about the geometry, because the only thing that crossed between the two halves was a list of line segments.
Fitting a lens from straightness alone
No calibration target, no known scene, no camera. Only the knowledge that some edges in the picture were straight — and the coefficient comes back to fifteen digits. Then it comes back with a companion, and the two are correlated at −0.997.
What survives a pane of glass
A slab of glass moves every point of a picture and moves no direction at all. So the camera recovered from a photograph taken through a display case is exactly the camera that took it — out of a picture in which nothing is where it was.
Alberti draws a pavement, and chooses where the reader stands
The costruzione legittima of 1435 is exact. Run as a construction — with drawn rays and drawn intersections rather than the formula it turns out to satisfy — it agrees with a pinhole camera to six parts in a hundred trillion of a pixel. And it has one free parameter that the recipe never names, which is the distance from the eye to the panel.
Every fisheye is a different rule
The word "fisheye" names a shape of lens and not a projection. There are several, they disagree with each other by tens of per cent at the frame edge, and each is the right answer to a different question — one is a protractor, one is a counting instrument, one preserves shape. Which one a lens implements is a fact about that lens, and it is rarely printed on the barrel.
The one thing a single view cannot give
Make the world a hundred and thirty-seven times larger and move the eye a hundred and thirty-seven times further away, and the picture does not change by a measurable amount. Every ratio in a scene is recoverable from one photograph and no size is, and that is not a caveat about the method — it is the shape of the method.
The principal point is not the centre
Every textbook that computes a focal length from two vanishing points supplies the middle of the frame as the principal point. On a shifted or cropped picture that is wrong, and it costs one and a half per cent of the answer at a fifth of a frame's shift.
A pixel is not a point
Where the sample sits inside a pixel is a convention, and getting it wrong shifts every mark by half a pixel in each axis. What that costs can be measured by recovering the camera from the picture — the answer is a principal point exactly 0.707 px from the truth with the focal length untouched, and the other half-pixel mistake does precisely the reverse.
The third point put where it looks right
Three-point perspective is taught as two vanishing points plus a third placed by judgement. The third is not free: two points and the centre of the picture fix it exactly. It survives being placed by eye because in the layout a book draws it belongs thousands of pixels off the paper, where 400 px of error costs less than a degree — and in a photograph taken looking up at a tower the same 400 px costs ten.
The distance point is the viewing distance, drawn
There is exactly one place in the whole classical apparatus where the distance from the eye to the picture appears as a length on the page, and it is the offset from the centric point to the distance point. Everything this site exists to compute was drawn in the fifteenth century, on the horizon, and nobody said what it was.
What a 360-degree photograph actually is
The format every spherical camera writes preserves nothing — not straightness, not shape, not area — and it is the right choice anyway, for a reason that has nothing to do with looking at it. An equirectangular file is a lookup table of directions, and the picture only exists at the moment something re-projects a piece of it.
The eye is a place, not a point
Rotate a camera about the wrong point and the sky still stitches perfectly while the foreground slides. The misregistration falls as one over the distance, exactly — which is what says the fault is the pivot and not the lens.
The pixel that is not square
A camera with two focal lengths is a real thing — anamorphic cinema optics, non-square photosites, a stretched video format. Hand the round trip of camera recovery a picture from one and it returns a focal length 49.6% out, a principal point far from the truth, three independent estimates agreeing to 1e-16, and bundle residuals at the noise floor. Every alarm the site has stays silent.
Both vanishing points on the paper
Putting the two vanishing points on the sheet is presented as a composition rule. It is a statement about the reader: with the two points one page-width apart the picture is a 90° view, correct from 80 mm, and a reader holding it at arm's length is shown a room five times as deep as the one drawn. The layout that is honest at arm's length puts both points four and a half pages off the sheet.
Four numbers and a window
A projection matrix is built from six numbers and one of them is not a number at all. Four sides carry the focal length and the principal point; the near and far planes move nothing a reader can see; and the bottom row, (0, 0, 1, 0), is the only place the depth divides — set it to (0, 0, 0, 1) and the same machine draws a parallel projection.
The centre has an area
Every theorem of perspective follows from a projection through a point, and no instrument has one. Give the pupil a radius and each world point images as a disc — whose centre is the pinhole's mark to 5.7 × 10⁻¹⁴ millimetres, at every aperture, every distance and every field angle. The geometry survives exactly; only the sharpness is spent.
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 caustic is the mirror's own ruler
Four of the five instruments in this row return a ratio and refuse a size. The bright curve a mirror throws is the exception, and the reason is that it is a length lying on the table rather than an angle in a picture. Its tip is the paraxial focus, so a ruler laid from the mirror's vertex to it returns the radius of curvature — 1.5996 m against 1.6, and exactly right on a paraboloid, where there is no aberration to bias the envelope.
The sharp band is a decision
One 50 mm lens at f/2.8 focused at three metres has a sharp band half a metre deep or an unbounded one, and nothing about the optics changes between them — only how large a blur disc a reader is prepared to ignore. Every quantity usually quoted about depth of field is that acceptance restated, including the rule that a third of the band lies in front, which is true at one distance and nowhere else.
The hole a scene actually sees
The stop is not the centre of projection. Model a 50 mm lens with its stop 18 mm behind the glass and the chief rays from every object distance cross the axis at one point 28.1 mm on the other side of the lens — 10.1 mm from the stop and 1.56 times its size — to 3.6 × 10⁻¹⁵ mm. That point is the entrance pupil, and it is where a picture is a projection from.
Straightening does not move the eye
Correct a photograph's converging verticals and what comes out agrees with a level camera at the same point — one the correction was never shown — to 3e-13 px, with the verticals parallel to 0e+0°. The cross-ratio of four points along a ground line reads 1.3333 before and after, so the corrected picture measures exactly what the original measured, from exactly where the original was taken and nowhere else.
A fitted radius is wrong before it is uncertain
A sphere and a paraboloid of the same vertex radius agree to second order, so a fit over a small aperture cannot separate them. What it does instead is return a confident radius that is wrong by a stated percentage, with a residual far below any measurement floor — 0.03% of bias behind a residual of three ten-thousandths of a degree. The residual only clears a two-hundredth of a degree at six times the aperture, by which point the bias is thirty-six times larger.
Whole pixels cut space into shells
A disparity read to whole pixels can report only the depths fB/k, so a stereo pair does not measure distance on a scale — it chooses among 113 shells between half a metre and twelve, 6.7 cm apart at two metres and 1.39 m apart at ten. A level floor comes back as 35 standing plates. And a finer step and a better reading are different purchases: at a quarter pixel with a quarter pixel of matcher error the pair prints 449 depths and can tell 149 apart.
Four surfaces, and no one camera that draws them
Read under one assumed camera, the floor, footstool, table and book of a constructed divergent picture imply tilts of 36.7°, 65.1°, 54.2° and 78.2°, where one camera photographing four parallel surfaces gives each of them 35.0°. But the spread between the tilts is 46.8° under a 260 px lens and 6.7° under a 5,000 px one, so it measures the lens as much as the picture. The measure that owes nothing to a lens is on the page: the nearest drawing one camera could make moves the far corners by 17.6 px.
A barrel model folds at a radius it sets itself
The polynomial every calibration fits to a wide lens stops increasing at a radius fixed by its own first coefficient — 47.49° of field at k₁ = −0.28 — and past it two directions land on one picture radius. The routine that undistorts pictures with it does not refuse there. It hands back wrong directions from 46.75°, by as much as 106.5°, and refuses only at 65.5°: a fifth of the field returned silently wrong.
The ramp has its own horizon
Every plane has a vanishing line, and a ramp's is not the ground's. Its uphill edges meet on a line above the horizon, and the angle at the eye between that meeting point and the same direction taken level is the gradient — 22.0000° recovered against 22° built, out of the picture alone, with no scale, no ruler and nothing known about the scene except that the ground is level.
Focusing is a zoom
A 50 mm lens focused at half a metre is not a 50 mm camera. It stands 55.56 mm from the sensor, its picture is a pinhole picture at that distance, and it covers 35.9° where the same lens at infinity covers 39.6°. Recover the camera from the picture and it reports 55.56 mm. Read the picture with the engraved 50 mm instead and a right angle comes back as 96.0°.
A wedge of glass turns the camera behind it
A pane with parallel faces moves every point and no direction, so the camera recovered through a window is the camera that took the picture. Tilt one face 2° and every direction turns, by 1.04° on the axis and 1.67° forty degrees off it. The best rotation of the frame, 1.14°, still leaves 0.94 px, and no homography does much better, so the picture is no longer a projection from the camera's centre. The camera recovered from three vanishing points through the same glass is turned 3.37° — three times as far — because vanishing points lie where the glass bends most.
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.
Focusing moves the pivot past its best place
Focusing a fifty-millimetre lens to one metre carries its entrance pupil 2.63 millimetres forward of the camera body, and to half a metre 5.56 — which is more than the whole 5.53 that the pupil walks with field angle, so past a subject at 502 millimetres the focus decides where the pupil is. A panorama head aligned at infinity and used at a metre leaves 7.46 arcminutes along its seam; aligned at four metres it leaves 2.21, better than pivoting at the pupil at all.
The rows count hands, not cameras
Rows drawn between two straight sides charge a camera nothing — every strip of a four-strip divergent picture reads back as a flat plane, whatever placed them, so a single viewpoint redraws the whole picture exactly. What they do fix is one number per strip, and that number survives the lens. Read the same drawing at focal lengths twenty to one apart and the lean runs from 36.4° to 86.0° while the habit stays at 1.000000000.
A close picture carries its own distance
A 50 mm lens focused at one metre stands 2.632 mm beyond its focal length, and a picture records where the lens stood. Recover that from two vanishing points, put in the engraved focal length, and the focus distance comes back — to 0.7 per cent at 1 m, 3.7 at 5 m, and as an interval 28 per cent wide at 30 m. A single picture has given a scale. What it has given is where the lens was focused, and the subject can be anywhere in a sharp band two to fifteen times wider.
The line every nosing is on
Nothing in a staircase points up the pitch. Every surface in it is level or vertical, and its picture has a vanishing point off the horizon all the same — belonging to the line the front edges of the treads lie on. That point is not free: it is collinear with the travel point and the vertical point, and the angle it makes says the rise-to-run the builder chose.
Rectifying a pair spends what its epipolar lines lean
Counted from the two disparities alone, rectifying a verged pair looks as if it throws away at least 99.7 per cent of what the pair can tell apart. That cannot be true of a warp that loses no ray, and it is not: once the place in the picture is counted, the vertical disparity adds 4.1 per cent for eyes verged at 1.2 m, and rectifying at the same focal length gives back all but 4.0 of it.
A known target sharpens the fit and does not separate it
Printed circles of stated size were supposed to break the −0.98 correlation between a lens's two radial coefficients, because a circle puts every mark at one radius and no straight edge can. They do not: every design of circles leaves the pair 0.979 to 0.9997 correlated, and for circles of known size the figure is exactly the cosine between r³ and r⁵. What a known target buys is precision — 3.8 times the straight edges' at the same budget — and only if its size in the picture is known to about a thousandth.
Three-point, laid out with a straightedge
Recovering a camera from a drawing is the familiar direction. The other direction — stand somewhere, measure a room, and lay the picture out — had never been taken in three-point, because the third axis needs a measuring point on a line nobody draws. With it, every corner lands where the camera puts it to three parts in ten million million of a pixel, and nothing anywhere is judged.
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.
A drawing has three horizons
The triangle three vanishing points form is not a scaffold. Each of its sides is the vanishing line of one of the three coordinate planes — the floor's horizon and two walls' — and its orthocentre is the centre of the picture. So the horizon a perspective drawing is built on is one side of a triangle, and it is special only because the ground is where things stand.
A floor with a referent
Recover a focal length from two vanishing points and measure more points along each line. Through a pinhole the error falls from 0.34 per cent to 0.05 and the instrument finds no floor at all. Through a lens of k₁ = −0.05 it falls, turns, and rises to 0.70 per cent — because the noise the extra points removed had been partly masking the lens's bend. The floor is 0.72 per cent of the focal length, and doubling the distortion coefficient doubles it to 1.44. It is not noise and not conditioning; it is the model, priced.
The horizon has a pole
Every other duality in this collection is a matrix somebody picked. A calibrated camera fixes one nobody picked, and under it the horizon of a plane and the vanishing point of that plane's normal are pole and polar — to 2.7 × 10⁻¹² pixels. Run backwards, those two marks give the focal length with no known length, no right angle and no square anywhere in the scene.
The centre of the picture is not the centre of the paper
A crop translates the image rectangle, so the picture's optical centre leaves the middle of the sheet and the focal length does not move — 81.3 pixels apart at a fifth of the picture, with the horizon at 62.5 per cent of the print. A reader who takes the paper's middle for the picture's stands 2.36 cm out of position, which is 4.9 degrees of the wrong direction.
The hook is the centre, and the eye is not
Dürer's string frame projects from a ring of iron driven into a wall, so its centre of projection has a position anybody can measure with a tape. A hook 120 centimetres behind a frame 56 centimetres wide makes a drawing correct from 34.3 centimetres shown 160 millimetres across, with its principal point 161 px off the middle of the sheet. The gridded veil projects from a head instead, and 30 millimetres of head moves its marks by 13.27 millimetres.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Principal pointVanishing pointViewing distanceStation pointinstrument limitPicture planeCamera calibrationDemonstrationResidualfield of viewHorizoncentre of projection