For about five minutes on May 29, 1919, the Moon blotted out the Sun over an island in the Gulf of Guinea and a hard-baked plain in northern Brazil, and two teams of astronomers pointed their cameras at a patch of sky no one could normally see. They were not photographing the eclipse for its beauty. They were trying to measure whether a handful of stars had moved.

For the past couple of years, I've found myself reaching for film cameras more often. Not because they're better than digital—they’re not. For the analog look then? No, I believe you can get a film look with digital, if you know your way around an editing app. It’s really because they remind me why I fell in love with photography in the first place.

The Leica M has stayed in production for over 70 years, and the rangefinder inside a 2026 model works almost exactly like the one Leica shipped in 1954. That kind of stubbornness runs against every other camera company, all of which abandoned the rangefinder for SLRs, then mirrorless.

Overpacking your camera bag and cramming five cities into a week are the two habits that quietly wreck a photography trip. Both feel productive while you plan them, and both leave you exhausted and short on the shots you actually wanted.

An $89 full-frame autofocus 50mm sounds like a typo, yet the TT Artisan 50mm f/1.8 Neo is real, and it does exactly what a 50mm should do. 

Every serious hobby eventually turns into a chore, and photography is no different. When you've come home empty-handed four or five outings in a row, the little voice telling you to quit gets loud, and beating it takes more than better planning.

A man in a full Darth Vader costume walked up to the microphone at a San Diego city council committee meeting and delivered a sarcastic endorsement of the Flock surveillance camera network. His identity was never revealed, and the council simply called out "Darth Vader?" before he took the podium in a black helmet and cape.

When a hurricane spins up over the Atlantic, the most frequent, most continuous pictures of it come from a camera parked 22,236 miles above the equator. That camera is the Advanced Baseline Imager, the primary instrument on NOAA's GOES-R series of weather satellites, and it works nothing like the one in your bag. It never racks focus, it has no shutter in the conventional sense, and what it delivers is not really a photograph. It is a stack of measurements that gets rebuilt into an image on the ground.

Many photographers have felt the need to produce content in order to become more visible online and, consequently, to more potential clients. If you haven’t tried using a 360 camera, it can be the easiest solution for capturing behind-the-scenes footage.

The best culling software is the one that gets you to your picks faster without deciding for you. Narrative sorts a shoot by scene, ranks every frame for focus and expression, and shows you why it ranked things the way it did, so the final call stays yours. That last part is what separates it from tools that hand you a finished selection and ask you to trust it.

I'm some kind of glutton for punishment. I've reviewed all manner of cheap cameras, and then even cheaper cameras, all so you, the reader, can get a good laugh. I went into this review of the Chuzhao Mini TLR thinking that I was going to provide more entertainment by lampooning the camera, but alas, I can't.

Most wildlife shooters pick a shutter speed out of habit, then wonder why their still owl on a branch came out at ISO 12,800 and full of noise. The number you dial in shapes sharpness, emotion, and the amount of grain you'll fight later, and knowing why you choose it matters more than memorizing a chart.

Most photographers hit a stretch where the work stops exciting them, direction disappears, and the whole thing starts to feel like a chore. Those flat periods are often what push you toward something new, if you know where to look.

A rare eclipse pulled roughly 10,000 people onto a hill in West London, and one photographer showed up with nothing but a hunch and a single lens. Events like this force quick decisions about gear, light, and how you move through a dense crowd, and the choices carry over to any assignment where you can't predict the scene.

An everyday camera comes down to a short list of things you actually care about: size, weight, how much it hurts if it gets stolen, and whether the files are fun to edit. Most gear roundups skip the honest part and just tell you what to buy.

In 2014, I was at Photokina in Cologne, Germany, which at the time was still one of those wonderfully overwhelming events where it seemed like the entire photography industry had temporarily relocated into a handful of enormous convention halls. I was there speaking on stages for DJI, Adobe, Fujifilm, and doing the usual Photokina routine: presentations, meetings, running into old friends, talking about photography for twelve hours straight, and consuming the quantity of coffee necessary to make all of that seem like a reasonable thing to do.

It’s that time again to sit back and dream about a one-size-fits-all camera that doesn’t actually exist, but really should.

At 5:29:45 in the morning on July 16, 1945, in a stretch of New Mexico desert the Spanish called the Jornada del Muerto, the sky turned brighter than the noon sun. Aimed at that flash, tucked into steel-and-lead bunkers and buried instrument boxes ringing a 100-foot tower, sat roughly fifty cameras. Most of the cameras were unmanned and triggered automatically, although Brixner personally occupied a tracking-camera position at North 10,000. Every one had been focused, loaded, and left in the dark hours earlier, wired to fire on a countdown, because no human eye could be trusted to catch what was about to happen and no photographer could survive standing close enough to try. The world has entered the nuclear age.

Walking into a wedding as the only person handling both photo and video is a gamble that hinges entirely on the light waiting for you. The decision to add a highlight film wasn't made in advance; it was made on arrival, after the conditions turned out to be forgiving enough to pull it off.

A medium format camera with a 100-megapixel sensor rarely gets described as fast, yet one specific change has turned a slow studio-style body into something you can shoot reactively on the street. The gap between "beautiful but sluggish" and "reliable in daily use" often comes down to a single feature.

Fourteen years separate two versions of the same photo, and watching one turn into the other is a quick lesson in how editing taste changes over time. Revisiting old work with newer tools shows you exactly how far your eye has traveled, and it surfaces habits you didn't know you had.

August might be the worst month of the year to point a camera at the landscape, and if you shoot nature the way most people do, the woods in late summer can feel like a dead end. The trick that separates a productive session from a frustrating one has less to do with what you shoot and more to do with what you refuse to shoot.

A federal appeals court has now made it clear that the First Amendment protects people who record publicly visible portions of a police station while standing on a public sidewalk. But the man whose arrest produced that ruling still cannot recover damages from the officers who arrested him.

The Sony a7 V is back at the top of Japan's best-selling camera list for July 2026, extending a run that has kept it near or at No. 1 for most of its first seven months on sale. The bigger story sits below it, where a Nikon full-frame body has climbed into fourth and one of Canon's newest cameras is nowhere to be found.

In 2022, a camera on the floor of the Izu-Ogasawara Trench off Japan, 8,336 meters down, filmed a small translucent snailfish drifting through its beam. No fish had ever been filmed so far down. No sunlight has ever reached that trench, and the light that does exist down there, the faint blue flicker of bioluminescence, is nothing like the broad-spectrum white the camera carries. When the lights came on, they almost certainly gave that fish a kind of light it had never seen. A great deal of deep-sea photography works this way: the scene has no sunlight of its own, so the camera has to bring it.