The normal focal length, but specifically 50mm
I’ve talked numerous times on this blog about my love of normal focal lengths. If we want to get technical, we measure the true normal of a given format by measuring the diagonal of a given film/or sensor plane. On a standard piece of 35mm film or full frame sensor this is about 43mm, meaning our true normal lens would be, obviously, a 43mm lens. I think Pentax was the only manufacturer to make a true true normal lens in the form of their 43/1.9. Other manufacturers have danced around that magical figure. But for most of us normal tends to fall loosely in that space between (and including) 35 to 50mm focal lengths. Lenses in this family of focal lengths all tend to have that inherently natural field of view and normal feeling compression that make for images that feel familiar, or resonant with the way in which we naturally experience the world.
Now, within that quaint little family of normal lenses, my personal favorite is the 50mm. I have shot quite a number of other primes, often for extended periods of time (35mm is probably my longest fling), but the 50mm focal length is the one that I always tend to settle back in to after some foray in to some other exotic field of view (28 is as wild as I’ve gotten). But beyond my own predilections for the focal length I do think there is something unique about the 50mm. Now I also don’t want to write another boring article about the aesthetic virtues of the 50mm focal length, about it’s natural field of view, it’s natural compression, it’s suitability for portraiture, etc etc etc.. A million of these articles exist on the internet and I don’t need to add to the pile. Rather, I want to point out that the 50mm is a lens that can teach you something about making photographs, there’s something pedagogic about the focal length.
The Pedagogy of a 50mm
I have noted in the past that if someone were to come to me as a dedicated beginner, looking to take up photography, I would start them with some kind of SLR style camera and a 50mm equivalent lens. And further, I would do the same for someone who was already a proficient photographer but was looking to hone their work and engagement with the craft. In fact, I put myself on this regimen when I feel “aesthetically confused,” for lack of a better term. I will often restrict myself to working with one camera and a 50mm lens to eliminate the distraction of choice and for the unique approach that the 50mm inspires.
But why not a 35? Why not a 40? Both of these focal lengths sit within that family of nice natural focal lengths, and you could argue that each of these focal lengths (and any focal length in general) has something to teach. There is perhaps a pedagogy of every “visual signature,” to borrow the term from Ralph Gibson. The 35, for example, a classic focal length probably rivaling the 50 in sheer popularity. A 35 has much to teach about contextual photography, about imagery that places subjects within the broader world of which they are a part, forces the photographer to wrestle with more information in the frame, context, with storytelling, etc etc..
But I think there is something (or several somethings) specifically about the 50mm that make it an especially important teaching tool, something specifically about the visual signature and the way that the focal length forces you to work with that visual signature that has something to teach about making images.
Normal, but, a little different
When we refer back to our magical normal focal length of 43mm we find that a 50mm is pretty damn close to that perfect number. This does a few things in terms of its visual signature. In sitting relatively close to that magical 43mm, we still have a very natural rendering, like the rest of the “normal” family of focal lengths. The compression and relation of objects in the frame feels natural and true to life. We also end up with a lens that is generally free of distortions. Through a 50mm the world tends to look like the world that we see in front of us. This is in some sense why it gets the reputation of being boring. Tricks of perspective and visual signature that you can play with on wide angle lenses or deep telephotos can’t be relied upon here. When you look through a 50 you see more or less the world in front of you, in its simple givenness.
But in addition to these neutral optical qualities of the 50 we would also do well to point out that the 50, being slightly longer than 43, is a very mild telephoto. Unlike the 35 which sits on the slightly wide end of normal, or the very neutral feeling of a 40ish, the 50 is just a hair tighter. The 50 is often touted as being a good lens for natural portraiture for this reason. Its rendering gives it a feeling of neutrality but the slightly tighter field of view lends itself to what we might call subject-centric imagery. What we end up with when we combine these qualities is a slightly telephoto, neutral rendering of the world around us.
On the surface of it this combination of qualities does not seem that interesting, or seem to have any particular capability of teaching us anything about making photographs. A slightly cropped view of the world that we are already immersed in every waking moment of our lives. What does this have to teach us about making images?
The unassuming magic
The view through the 50mm lens is, as we’ve established, basically the world in front of us, but a little more focused. A little tighter, a little like when we squint at something that catches our eye out of the whole “blooming buzzing confusion” of the world, to borrow that phrase from the pragmatist philosopher William James. The 50mm encourages us to focus, to narrow down, to pick and choose, and all this requires that we think. This is the whole magic, I think, the subtle, unassuming pedagogic power of the boring old 50mm.
This is all a little abstract, I think. Or at the very least vague. To concretize it a little bit a personal account is probably helpful:
As I noted earlier, when I find myself aesthetically confused I often default back to shooting a 50mm. In part because this is the focal length I’ve worked with most but also because that specific visual signature of the 50mm forces me to have to think more critically about what I’m photographing, and how I’m photographing. The slight telephoto of the 50 means I have to be selective, about subjects, about compositional decisions, about what I do or do not include in the frame. In short, I’m forced to really think about putting photographs together. Facing the buzzing confusion in front of me I am confronted with the necessity of choice. I can’t possibly include everything. The lens forces the need to narrow my focus and work intentionally. To some degree we could argue that one also has to do this with any lens, and we would be right (again, the pedagogy of every focal length), but the slight telephoto of the 50 forces our hand in a way that a wider lens doesn’t. It structurally excludes much of the world due to its given 45 degree field of view. We have no choice but to be thoughtful and selective.
At the same time the neutral perspective of the 50 means that I don’t have to think too much about perspective issues, distortion, compression, etc etc.. I don’t have to worry about straight lines looking weird if the camera isn’t held at the right angle, or things in the background looking weirdly distant in ways that they don’t to my eye. What I see in front of me is roughly how the image will look when translated by the optical rendering of a 50mm lens. This frees me up from having to put mental energy in to thinking about how certain aspects of the world in front of me will be warped or distorted by the camera’s specific translation of the scene. What I see is what I get, in a sense. The less I have to think about the more I’m able to remain focused on the deeper content of my images. Things like subject matter, narrative, symbolism etc can all stay in the front of my mind in order to further lean in to that focused and intentional approach that the 50 encourages. By the same token, I’m also not able to use tricks of perspective as a crutch to add “visual interest” to an otherwise mediocre image. The lens again forces me to have to work, to plumb the depths of my own vision.
So these two parts of the visual signature of the 50mm, a neutral perspective and a slight telephoto turn out to encourage us to photograph in a way that has much to teach about making images. It encourages focus, intentionality, thoughtfulness, by forcing us to have to buckle down and really think about how we are putting photographs together from out of the broader tapestry of our experience. This builds an approach to image making that is applicable to the whole craft, to our whole engagement with the photographic process regardless of whether we stay with the 50 or branch out from there. If this isn’t profoundly pedagogical I don’t know what is.
An invitation
I hope that I have made the case that there is something interesting about the 50mm, something that has earned it a special place in the wide landscape of optical devices that we can put on the front of our cameras. If you are able to, I’d strongly encourage anyone to spend a prolonged period of time with the focal length. I think you might be pleasantly surprised by just how much that boring old focal length is able to teach.
