The Focal Length Identity Crisis
AKA What Kind of Street Shooter Are You?
I’ve always had a dislike for authority. For as long as I can remember, whenever someone’s told me to do something, I’ve tended to go the other way — somehow thinking I know better.
A lot of times I’ve been right, and a lot of other times I’ve been wrong — mostly thanks to a catastrophic lack of appreciation for the Big Picture. Because of that mindset, I’ve always felt Street Photography comes with far too many so-called rules, eagerly passed around as gospel.
It’s not that I don’t think there’s any wisdom in them — it’s just that some feel out of date and shouldn’t be treated as so prescribed and dogmatic. I think everyone has to look at a rule or guideline and decide what it means to them, rather than following it blindly just because their favourite photographer says so.
Does anyone need another article about Prime Lenses?
But why this subject? Why not? I’ve been shooting with a 50mm pretty much constantly for about a year now, and it’s got me thinking about one of the commandments handed down by our Street Photography overlords: “Thou shalt always shoot with a prime.”
I’ve gone back and forth on this — from being Mr Prime Time to evangelising standard zooms, then back to a prime again. One of the big draws is how light the setup is. Especially since my shoulder’s slightly—no, totally—messed up from a gym injury, so I’m not lifting and as weak as a kitten.
Throw in a plasticky-feeling Sony camera and a tiny 50mm f/2.5, and it sounds pretty inviting to me. But what’s the real reason? There’s more to it than a severe lack of recent push-ups and pull-ups leaving me a skeleton in a skin suit. No — we need to talk about intention now.
Style or Electicisim gone wild?
So what do I want? A cohesive body of work? Maybe. What do you want? All the answers? I might have a few of them. I’ve shot with just about every street focal length there is, and if I’m honest, it’s partly a combination of laziness and pragmatism that keeps me shooting with a prime these days.
I know exactly what kind of shots I can and can’t take. I know my distances, my limits — what I can and can’t shoot based on my own temperament, personality, and style. And finally, we get to it. That’s what this blog has been leading up to: that word — style.
Everybody needs a style. It took me a while to learn that. I used to think I’d be constantly changing — the master of the shifting style, versatile, every moment a freestyle. I’m not sure what I was thinking.
I think without a style, shooting the streets can feel totally overwhelming. What are you even looking for? What focal length are you using? Are you working on a project? Waiting for moments? Chasing aesthetics?
So many questions—doesn’t it get exhausting just thinking about all this? Okay, let’s start with the basics: let’s reverse-engineer a style. One of the many lessons I learned—always way too late, as is my way—is that what you want to shoot isn’t necessarily what you can shoot. What you’re capable of capturing depends on your personality, your temperament, your skill level, and—above all—your comfort on the streets. Your equipment, like focal length, should enable that, not dictate it.
Anyway, maybe a better way to approach this is to list the main focal lengths I’ve used and what they taught me about myself—and about how I should shoot on the streets.
28mm
There’s something odd about this focal length in the street photography world. Shooting wide seems to carry a strange macho cachet.
Think of Leica photographers in New York—mostly guys—28mm, black and white, “getting close.” They’ll tell you that if you can’t “smell the street,” it’s not a real street photo. If every time I opened a photobook I were greeted by the smell of stale urine and skunk weed, I’d probably take my inspiration from films. “Smell the street”…Jesus wept. Seriously—35mm is “too tight” for you? Yet you don’t have the guts to shoot 24mm…
Anyway, I shot 28mm for a solid year and found that I pretty much shoot the same kind of thing and style, no matter what focal length I pick. I think there are basically two ways to approach 28mm. If you’re a bit introverted and don’t want to interact with people, you can do the Fan Ho thing—find interesting scenes and let people walk into them.
If that feels too boring but you’re committed to 28mm, protests are great for non-confrontational shooting. For the more confident, you can get up close and try to fit lots of people into the frame, taking advantage of its inclusive, non-discriminatory nature. It’s also excellent for capturing moments—you can’t really miss anything, thanks to the wide field of view and deep depth of field. I mean, if there were a decisive moment on the moon, it would probably fit somewhere in a 28mm frame. And in focus, too.
35mm
If that feels too boring but you’re set on 28mm, protests are perfect for non-confrontational shooting. For the bolder, you can get up close and pack lots of people into the frame, taking full advantage of its inclusive, non-discriminatory nature. It’s also brilliant for capturing moments—you can’t really miss anything, thanks to the wide field of view and deep depth of field. I mean, if there were a decisive moment on the moon, it would probably fit somewhere in a 28mm frame. And in focus, too.
50mm
If that feels too boring but you’re set on 28mm, protests are perfect for non-confrontational shooting. For the bold, you can get up close and cram lots of people into the frame, making the most of its inclusive, non-discriminatory nature. It’s also brilliant for capturing moments—you can’t really miss anything, thanks to the wide field of view and deep depth of field. Honestly, if there were a decisive moment on the moon, it’d probably fit somewhere in a 28mm frame. And in focus, too.
If I had to choose one lens for general photography, this wouldn’t be it. But I do use it constantly for street. Its so-called “boring” quality is actually its strength—it’s incredibly versatile for all personality types.
A shy street photographer can keep a bit of distance from their subjects, while a more outgoing photographer can get close, fit a few people into the scene, and still have it feel forgiving compared to wider lenses.
I have found it to be a bit of a sneaky lens sometimes. It’s unforgiving in a subtle shithousery way.
The 85mm can sometimes let you get away with horrendous technique. The 50mm, meanwhile, gives the illusion that you don’t need much technical discipline—but that’s a trap. If you can’t keep the sensor parallel to flat objects, like walls, your verticals warp in ways that aren’t fixable. And unlike the 28mm crowd, you don’t get the luxury of making it look “accidentally on purpose.”
85mm
This is a really interesting focal length to shoot with. I used the 85mm—and the stunningly similar 75mm—for years. It’s great for shy photographers, letting you create plenty of distance from your subject. Confident shooters can use it to capture really emotional photos, with a subject’s face filling the frame. It’s forgiving for those with dodgy technique, thanks to its flattening effect, and, of course, it’s a dream for Bokeh Boys (and girls).
These are some of the reasons I liked it. Early on, I wasn’t quick enough at focusing and shooting, so the extra distance gave me more time. And thanks to the flattering effects of compression—the distance to your subject—you don’t need perfect technique every time to get a nice-looking photo.
Takeaways
In my experience, shooting with a prime helped me discover my current style: photographing small numbers of subjects with a bit of context, favouring candid moments, and maintaining a level of subtlety—hence, the 50mm for me.
I think that after a month or two of shooting with the same focal length day after day, it should start to become clear what kind of photographer you are—and whether you need to go longer or wider to help realise that style. The wrong prime can trap you, but the right one can set you free.
There’s a latin phrase: Pedem meum in tuo asino pone et abi faciem tuam lava. Loosely translated it means: know thyself, know thy prime. It makes a lot of sense to me.
Obviously, you can—and should—shoot with a zoom if you can handle the weight and need the versatility. When I used one, though, I found myself almost always on the long end, so I didn’t need the extra weight or a slower lens. I was mostly shooting the same focal length anyway, so I stopped bothering—except for travel. Hope this article has been useful!
