ยฉ Alessandra Sanguinetti
Prime Lenses or Zoom?
In street and documentary photography, the choice of lens is often framed as a matter of convenience. Versatility vs discipline. Freedom vs limitation. But this opposition is misleading. Because a lens is not just an operational tool; it is a declaration of method.
The zoom lens is the elephant in the room. Many people use it. Very few openly acknowledge it. It is a real, widespread, everyday choice, yet it is rarely discussed critically. As if admitting it meant taking a side, exposing oneself, losing a certain legitimacy. But the issue is not whether zoom lenses are right or wrong. The issue is what they introduce into the photographic process.
A zoom lens does not require a precise distance. It postpones it. It does not force a decision beforehand. It allows for correction afterward. This can be useful in certain contexts, but it comes with a clear consequence: responsibility shifts from the body to the zoom ring. From positioning to adjustment. From risk to the possibility of fixing things later.
Prime lenses, by contrast, are not more โpure.โ They are more exposed. They force you to decide where to stand before you shoot. They impose a stable relationship with space. They limit options and, precisely for that reason, make every hesitation visible. Not because they are morally superior, but because they make it impossible to fake a position you havenโt truly taken.
As an editor, I donโt judge the tool. I observe the effect it produces in the images. Many photographs made with zoom lenses function formally, but remain suspended. Not because something is missing in the frame, but because a clear renunciation is missing. The image seems to keep everything open, and for that very reason struggles to say something precise.
Zoom lenses offer possibilities.
But they are often chosen to avoid giving anything up.
And a photograph that gives up nothing rarely takes a position.
Marco Savarese
Editor-in-Chief
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marco Savarese
Marco Savarese is Editor-in-Chief at Eyeshot, the independent publisher he founded in Italy in 2018. He spends most of his year reading portfolios, judging the Open Call, and editing the magazine catalogue. The reading desk is open, and he takes one-to-one Professional Reviews from photographers working seriously on long-term projects.
Who Finishes Your Photograph
NOTE #210. A photo isn’t finished until it survives to where people see it. Paul Strand chose hand photogravure for Photographs of Mexico so the printed copy kept the tonal weight of his prints. Protect the tone to the end, or the worst medium decides for you.
What the Dark Does
NOTE #209. A face lost in shadow reads as underexposed, a defect to fix. Gordon Willis kept Brando’s eyes in the dark in The Godfather and held it against the studio. Before you rescue a shadow, ask what it does; if you can say it, you decided it.
The Place After
NOTE #208. Of a huge event, often only an ordinary place is left. In On This Site (1996) Joel Sternfeld photographed fifty banal American places where violence happened, each with a line of text. Photograph the aftermath, and let the line do the work.
The Photo Made Together
NOTE #206. Street photography teaches you to steal people; there’s another way. In Malick Sidibรฉ’s Bamako studio the youth chose how to be seen. Before you take someone, ask how they’d want to look, and make the photo together.
Write Your Own Rules
NOTE #205. The thing that improves you most isn’t a new camera, it’s a short list of your own faults. Tony Ray-Jones kept a notebook of orders to himself and it shaped Martin Parr. Write your three rules and keep them in your pocket.
Watch the Master Work
NOTE #204. You don’t learn from a master’s finished prints, you learn from watching them work. In 1962 Joel Meyerowitz watched Robert Frank shoot, quit his job that day, and picked up a camera. Watch the body, not the result.
The Work Before the Name
NOTE #203. The worth of a photo and the worth of the byline are two different things. Koudelka shot the 1968 Prague invasion anonymously as ‘P.P.’ and revealed it sixteen years later. Photograph what must be photographed even when no one will know it was you.
The Subject You Run From
NOTE #202. The strongest subject you have is the one you’d rather not photograph. Ishiuchi Miyako went back to Yokosuka, the occupied base town she was taught to fear, and made it her life’s work. Point the camera where it’s uncomfortable.