An eye for an eye: How I wanted to make a good photo even better

David Lee

20.4.2018

Translation: machine translated

There are image ideas that are worth pursuing. Where it is totally worth investing time and energy. This one is not one of them.

It happens while testing the Sony A7 III. I'm playing around with the macro lens that Stephanie Tresch lent me. Because I can't think of anything better at the moment, I try to photograph my own eye with the telephoto macro. It's actually a daft idea - but it works.

More than that: I can see myself in my eye. And what makes the photo really good in my opinion: the macro lens is a round black circle exactly where there should be a round black circle anyway, namely the pupil.

If I could take such a great picture by chance, how good would it have to be if I did it "right"? My ambition was awakened. I know that a good photo is created when you put time and effort into it.

The reconstruction of the super image

So I take my camera and lens home with me to take my time. I take a systematic approach. First of all, I choose a better section. I move closer so that the eye is larger in the picture and I align the eye exactly with the centre. Because what you saw above is a detail. In the original, the eye only covers about a quarter of the image area.

This looks good. Unfortunately, the focus point is now a little too close. And somehow there are no reflections. I turn slightly to the side so that the eye reflects more.

The focal point fits. I can tell by the reflected eyelashes. I can also see the lens in the eye. But it's not on the pupil. And you can't see anything of my hands. I'll have to keep experimenting.

Now the lens is back on the pupil, and I can also see a bit of my hands. But it's still less good than my first snapshot. The white bar is distracting. That's the lamp in my bathroom. I do this in the bathroom because the mirror helps me to align my eye correctly. Now I realise: I have to get out of here. But it's already late. I've experimented enough for today.

New day, new luck: I'm now in the living room, where there are no annoying neon lights. But quite a few windows. To make matters worse, it snowed during the night. So even more white surfaces. I angle the camera so that the pupil is spared from the numerous bright spots. Nevertheless, all the white is annoying. So I move again, this time to the kitchen.

There are fewer windows in the kitchen. And I'm making good progress: the iris reflects the surroundings beautifully. Unfortunately, despite all my gymnastics, I can no longer manage to align the lens with the pupil. I can't do it without a mirror anyway. So I hold a hand mirror, which means I have to make strange contortions. And you can see them too.

Sitting and with a tripod, I can align my own position better. The reflections are even better than before. You can recognise my beautiful draining rack and the totally stylish kitchen towel. Things you've always wanted to see. I'm now very close to the perfect shot! Only the lens isn't exactly on the pupil again.

Wrong again. It can't be that hard, damn it. But it's always like this, no matter what I try. Then I have an idea: I change my eye. That gives me a different angle to the window. And maybe I won't have so many ugly red veins there.

Yet, I did. No matter. The white areas are now completely gone. It's the perfect photo. There's just one very small annoyance: the lens isn't on the pupil.

And now I'm doing something right for the first time: I'm giving up.

A close miss is also a miss

That went in the eye. But not as planned. And now I don't really know. I was firmly convinced that exceptional photos are the result of exceptional effort. The exact opposite happened here. One quick snap: good. Tried around for hours: all rubbish.

I'm sure it's down to my epic incompetence. I'm sure you, dear readers, will explain this to me in detail in a moment. Thank you in advance!

David Lee

Senior Editor

David.Lee@digitecgalaxus.ch

My interest in IT and writing landed me in tech journalism early on (2000). I want to know how we can use technology without being used. Outside of the office, I’m a keen musician who makes up for lacking talent with excessive enthusiasm.