Every essay — page 3
What survives Constructing a view Where to stand Surfaces that are not flat The other systems Light and mirrors Measuring from one picture Through water and glass The real instrument The second eye What a pair is for Many pictures at once The eye that moves Systems that kept the measure What each system gave up What a machine computes The rectangle behind the lens The second projection Drawn confidently
The real instrument
A lens is a departure from the pinhole, and the departure is the largest systematic error in every measurement made here. It bends straight lines, destroys the invariant, and can be recovered from nothing but the knowledge that some edges were straight — which is the round trip again, on a harder problem.
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.
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.
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.
Light and mirrors
A shadow is a projection from the lamp; a reflection is the view from a camera on the far side of the mirror. Neither needs new machinery, and both are computed with the machinery already here.
A shadow is a second projection
The construction that puts a shadow on the ground is the construction that puts the scene on the picture plane, with the lamp where the eye was. Shadow drawing is taught as a separate set of recipes and it is one operation with the centre moved, which is why the same code draws both.
Where shadows vanish
The shadows of parallel posts under the sun meet at a point, and that point must lie on the horizon. Under a lamp they meet at the lamp's foot instead. Both are checkable in any photograph, and a picture whose shadows fail the check was not lit by anything.
A mirror is a second camera
Reflect the scene and photograph it, or reflect the camera and photograph the scene. The two routes disagree by 315 px and agree to the last bit once one axis of the image is reversed — which is the whole of why a mirror is said to swap left and right, written down.
The penumbra is the lamp's image
The soft edge of a shadow is a picture of the light, projected through the occluder's edge as through a pinhole. That gives its width without any integration — and it is why the dapples under a tree go crescent-shaped during an eclipse.
The shadow of a ball is a conic
A cone cut by a plane is a conic section — which is the definition of the phrase, not an analogy — and the shadow of a ball is exactly that cut. So the shadow closes or runs to the horizon depending on where the lamp is, and the condition is not what anyone guesses: it is that the lamp is above the top of the ball. The ball's distance appears nowhere in it.
The lamp, out of the picture
Two posts and their shadows put the light's position in a photograph, exactly, with nothing given but the drawn lines and the camera's own horizon. Two posts. One gives a residual of zero and an answer that is a whole one-parameter family — the sharpest counter-example this site has to the idea that a small residual means a right answer, met again in a new field.
A shadow can be un-cast
A shadow looks like a lossy record — a flattened smear with the shape half thrown away. It is nothing of the kind. The map from the occluder's plane to the floor is a plane projectivity, so it has an inverse, and the outline comes back out of its own shadow exactly. What breaks it is not the light and not the shape: it is the floor not being flat.
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.
Many pictures at once
Raise the count and the answer changes character. A sequence determines its own camera track and the scene together — up to seven numbers that no quantity of pictures supplies, counted here in the Jacobian and then walked along to show that they are free rather than merely small.
The track and the scene together
Six photographs go in and one hundred and sixty-eight numbers come out — every camera's position and orientation and every point's place in space, solved for at once. Nothing in the solve was ever told where a camera or a point was.
Seven numbers no picture can name
Shift a whole reconstruction by a metre and a half, turn it half a radian, scale it by 2.7, and every photograph of it stays where it was to a hundredth of a billionth of a pixel. Move one point by fifty millimetres and they move by two thirds of a pixel.
A chain and an adjustment
Composing pairwise poses along a sequence is supposed to drift. Measured over five links it wanders instead — one chain ends closer to the truth than its own worst link — and the real cost of chaining turns out to be something else entirely.
Where the adjustment stops
Given exact marks the reprojection error falls to a hundredth of a billionth of a pixel, which is arithmetic. Given the same marks read to a whole pixel it falls to a third of a pixel and stays there, and a solver that reached zero on those would be fitting the rounding.
Another picture of the same sweep
Going from three views to seven across the same sixty degrees leaves the reconstruction exactly where it started, and at one point makes it worse. What a reconstruction is short of is angular spread, not photographs.
Measuring from one picture
A photograph read backwards for the scene that made it: a height from a cross-ratio, a façade flattened by a homography, a plan of the ground. Every measurement is a ratio, because a single view has no size — and that is shown rather than said.
A height, out of one photograph
Four points on a vertical, one cross-ratio, and the height of something nobody measured. The only metric input is the photographer's own eye height, because the horizon is at eye level and that is the one piece of perspective folklore that is exactly true.
Flattening a façade out of the photograph
Four corners of a rectangle whose proportions are known are enough to undo the projection of one plane. After that the plane can be measured with a ruler — lengths, angles, areas, all of it — in units of the rectangle's own width, and lengths the map was never given come back to fifteen digits.
The plan hidden in the photograph
Rectifying the ground is the same operation as rectifying a wall, and it turns a photograph into a site plan. The horizon is not an input to it and comes out as a consequence — the plan's points at infinity land on it, at first order, which is the check that the plan is a plan and not a plausible warp.
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.
How wrong a measurement from one picture can be
The formula divides by a difference of two nearly equal numbers when the object is tall, which looked like the instability and is not. Measured, a taller object is recovered better and a more distant one worse — half a per cent per pixel at six metres and eleven per cent at a hundred and twenty. The argument that was wrong is as much the finding as the curve that replaced it.
The other systems
Isometric, oblique, elevation. Not perspective done badly by people who had not worked it out yet, but a different answer to a different question — and the difference is measurable.
Parallel projection is not primitive perspective
Isometric and oblique drawing are not what people used before they worked perspective out. They are a different answer to a different question, and the difference is one measurable quantity — a parallel projection preserves the ratio in which a point divides a segment, and a perspective projection destroys it by 7% of the segment's drawn length at a comfortable depth, rising to 13% over the range the slider covers.
What isometric actually means
The three axis scales are equal to each other. They are not equal to one. Every unit along every axis is drawn at 0.8165 of its true length, which is √(2/3), and a great deal of confusion about isometric drawing comes from the word promising something it does not deliver.