The rectangle behind the lens
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.
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.
Every row is a different camera
A shutter that reads its rows one after another images each of them from wherever the camera was at that instant, so a frame is a stack of projections indexed by height — a handscroll with the roll running down the picture. Its rays miss their own best centre by the spread of the eye's track, at a ratio of 0.988, and a global shutter's meet to 2 × 10⁻¹⁶ m.
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.
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.
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.
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.
A pupil sees around an edge
Two backgrounds identical everywhere a pinhole can see, differing only in the strip an occluder hides from it, produce identical pinhole pictures and pupil pictures 42 per cent apart. So no function of the sharp image — no kernel, no depth-dependent kernel, nothing — produces the picture a real lens makes, and the reach behind the edge is R(Z₂/Z₁ − 1), which is 120 mm here.
The corner sees an ellipse
A circular pupil viewed from off the axis is foreshortened by the cosine, so the blur patch a corner receives is an ellipse of axis ratio 0.920 at the edge of a full-frame picture with a 50 mm lens — and the light through it falls as the fourth power of the same cosine, 0.480 stops. Both are geometry, both happen to a perfect lens, and no design removes either.
The disc and the streak
A frame integrates over the pupil and over the exposure at once. Hold the point's depth and the patch is exactly the streak of its centres with one disc slid along it, to 1.8 × 10⁻⁵ of its own width. Let it recede over the same exposure and the disc's radius falls by 3.7 along the streak, and the patch departs from any single kernel by 16 pixels.
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 turning frame can be straightened; a travelling one cannot
Read a frame row by row while the camera turns at a radian a second and every point is 21 px from where a global shutter would put it, at every depth alike. Turn each row's rays back and every point returns to six trillionths of a pixel, with no depth known. Travel at 3 m/s instead, and the best correction that needs no depth is exact at one distance and 21 px wrong at 2 m.
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.
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.
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.
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.
A frame's shear knows travel only over depth
Read a frame row by row while the camera turns and travels, and every vertical post leans — the near ones more. The lean is the turn plus the travel over the post's depth, and that sum is all the frame holds: twice the travel past posts twice as far draws the same frame to eighteen decimal places. Two posts cannot separate turn from travel. A facade can, because a turn leans the edges of the frame more than its middle, but the two signals are 99.8 per cent alike, and reading them apart takes a pixel on every row.
A rolling frame on a bend is right at its centre
Read a camera car's frame row by row as it rounds a bend and every still point moves — except the bend's centre, at every height, and the horizon row, at every depth. Each mark's displacement is its streak scaled by its row time, so the rolling frame is undistorted wherever the global one is sharp. And the usual repair makes it worse: a gyroscope that undoes the turn row by row puts 0.73 px back into the centre and is a net loss everywhere nearer than twice the bend's radius.
A rolling frame on a bend is a coarse curvature gauge
Read row by row on a bend, a frame leans every vertical by an amount proportional to one over its range less one over the bend's radius, so posts at several ranges lie on a straight line that crosses zero at the radius — exactly, to a thousandth of a metre. Off the axis the zero moves to R·cos of the bearing, the circle on which a camera on a bend is sharp. As a gauge it is coarse: one frame's eight posts read a 50 m bend as 45 m (35–74) with tops placed to half a pixel, and sixteen frames as 51 m (47–55). The slower the sensor reads, the better it measures the road.