art

Pixel peeping and why you should avoid it

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In recent years there has been a lot of of hoopla about this idea of pixel peeping. But what is it? Pixel peeping is essentially magnifying an image until individual pixels are perceivable by the viewer. The concept has been around for many years, but was really restricted to those that post-process their images. In the pre-digital era, the closest photographers would come to pixel peeping was the use of a loupe to view negatives, and slides in greater detail. It is the evolution of digital cameras that spurned the widespread use of pixel peeping.

Fig.1: Peeping at the pixels

For some people, pixel-peeping just offers a vehicle for finding flaws, particularly in lenses. But here’s the thing, there is no such thing as a perfect lens. There will always be flaws. A zoomed in picture will contain noise, and grain, unsharp, and unfocused regions. But sometimes these are only a problem because they are being viewed at 800%. Yes, image quality is important, but if you spend all your time worrying about every single pixel, you will miss the broader context – photography is suppose to be fun.

Pixel-peeping is also limited by the resolution of the sensor, or put another way, some objects won’t look good when viewed at 1:1 at 16MP. They might look better at 24MP, and very good at 96MP, but a picture is the sum of all its pixels. My Ricoh GR III allows 16× zooming when viewing an image. Sometimes I use it just to find out it the detail has enough sharpness in close-up or macro shots. Beyond that I find little use for it. The reality is that in the field, there usually isn’t the time to deep dive into the pixel content of a 24MP image.

Of course apps allow diving down to the level of the individual pixels. There are some circumstances where it is appropriate to look this deep. For example viewing the subtle effects of changing settings such as noise reduction, or sharpening. Or perhaps viewing the effect of using a vintage lens on a digital camera, to check the validity of manual focusing. There are legitimate reasons. Pixel peeping on the whole is really only helpful for people who are developing or finetuning image processing algorithms.

Fig.2: Pixel peeping = meaningless detail

One of the problems with looking at pixels 1:1 is that a 24MP image was never meant to be viewed using the granularity of a pixel. Given the size of the image, and the distance it should be viewed at, micro-issues are all but trivial. The 16MP picture in Figure 2 shows pixel-peeping of one of the ducks under the steam engine. The entire picture has a lot of detail in it, but dig closer, and the detail goes away. That makes complete sense because there are not enough pixels to represent everything in complete detail. Pixel-peeping shows the ducks eye – but it’s not exactly that easy to decipher what it is?

People that pixel-peep are too obsessed with looking at small details, when they should be more concerned with the picture as a whole.

The photography of Daidō Moriyama

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Daidō Moriyama was born in Ikeda, Osaka, Japan in 1938, and came to photography in the late 1950s. Moriyama studied photography under Takeji Iwamiya before moving to Tokyo in 1961 to work as an assistant to Eikoh Hosoe. In his early 20’s he bought a Canon 4SB and started photographing on the streets on Osaka. Moriyama was the quintessential street photographer focused on the snapshot. Moriyama likened snapshot photography to a cast net – “Your desire compels you to throw it out. You throw the net out, and snag whatever happens to come back – it’s like an ‘accidental moment’” [1]. Moriyama’s advice on street photography was literally “Get outside. It’s all about getting out and walking.” [1]

In the late 1960s Japan was characterized by street demonstrations protesting the Vietnam War and the continuing presence of the US in Japan. Moriyama joined a group of photographers, associated with the short-lived (3-issue) magazine Provoke (1968-69), which really dealt with elements of experimental photography. His most provocative work during the Provoke-era was the are-bure-boke style that illustrates a blazing immediacy. His photographic style is characterized by snapshots which are gritty, grainy black and white, out-of-focus, extreme contrast, Chiaroscuro (dark, harsh spotlighting, mysterious backgrounds). Moriyama is “drawn to black and white because monochrome has stronger elements of abstraction or symbolism, colour is something more vulgar…”.

“My approach is very simple — there is no artistry, I just shoot freely. For example, most of my snapshots I take from a moving car, or while running, without a finder, and in those instances I am taking the pictures more with my body than my eye… My photos are often out of focus, rough, streaky, warped etc. But if you think about I, a normal human being will in one day receive an infinite number of images, and some are focused upon, other are barely seen out of the corners of one’s eye.”

Moriyama is an interesting photographer, because he does not focus on the camera (or its make), instead shoots with anything, a camera is just a tool. He photographs mostly with compact cameras, because with street photography large cameras tend to make people feel uncomfortable. There were a number of cameras which followed the Canon 4SB, including a Nikon S2 with a 25/4, Rolleiflex, Minolta Autocord, Pentax Spotmatic, Minolta SR-2, Minolta SR-T 101 and Olympus Pen W. One of Moriyama’s favourite film camera’s was the Ricoh GR series, using a Ricoh GR1 with a fixed 28mm lens (which appeared in 1996) and sometimes a Ricoh GR21 for a wider field of view (21mm). Recently he was photographing with a Ricoh GR III.

“I’ve always said it doesn’t matter what kind of camera you’re using – a toy camera, a polaroid camera, or whatever – just as long as it does what a camera has to do. So what makes digital cameras any different?”

Yet Moriyama’s photos are made in the post-processing stage. He captures the snapshot on the street and then makes the photo in the darkroom (or in Silver Efex with digital). Post-processing usually involves pushing the blacks and whites, increasing contrast and adding grain. In his modern work it seems as though Moriyama photographs in colour, and converts to B&W in post-processing (see video below). It is no wonder that Moriyama is considered by some to be the godfather of street photography, saying himself that he is “addicted to cities“.

“[My] photos are often out of focus, rough, streaky, warped, etc. But if you think about it, a normal human being will in one day perceive an infinite number of images, and some of them are focused upon, others are barely seen out of the corner of one’s eye.”

For those interested, there are a number of short videos. The one below shows Moriyama in his studio and takes a walk around the atmospheric Shinjuku neighbourhood, his home from home in Tokyo. There is also a longer documentary called Daidō Moriyama: Near Equal, and one which showcases some of his photographs, Daido Moriyama – Godfather of Japanese Street Photography.

Artist Daido Moriyama – In Pictures | Tate (2012)

Further Reading: