Last week, Canon was kind enough to give me the opportunity to attended a Formula Drift event, featuring a high-horsepower competition and a car show with a lot of really interesting vehicles. The shooting experience was highly informative for some upcoming reviews – stay tuned – and I came away with several pictures that I’m really proud of. But I also got something I didn’t expect: a renewed hope for the future of photography.

As a lifelong photographer and someone whose job is writing about cameras, it’s been a bit easy to fret over the future of the artform. Sales of dedicated cameras are recovering, sure, but they’re still far from what they once were. And while phone photography is just as legitimate, the culture at large treats it as cheap and disposable. Even the most meaningful, carefully considered and composed image becomes another piece of content to look at for half a second while scrolling Instagram.

But walking through the car show in the evening, I found myself surrounded by people with cameras, ranging from DSLR kits that could’ve been purchased at Costco to serious pro photography and video rigs. And while the latter were typically used by professionals and content creators (or people hopeful to join those ranks), plenty of others were people who just really liked cars, and who wanted to take cool photos of them to share with their fellow enthusiasts.

I asked one person walking around with a camera what they were taking photos for, and they said it was basically for their personal enjoyment adding with a laugh that they also post to their 200 followers on Instagram. That’s righteous; as someone who’s successfully turned their hobby into a job, I wish I could occasionally just shoot photos for the love of the game like they were.

Mitchell Clark

Even photographing the Formula Drift event itself, the trend held. Several of the people I talked to in the official media pit had started with a love of drift racing, which eventually turned into using photography or video to tell the story of it. Folks there were just as excited about who was winning as they were about the amazing shots they got. That kind of passion is infectious, and they had a lot to teach me. When you start doing photography within a niche, you have a much deeper understanding of what that subculture values, and can push at the edges in a way that a generalist photographer won’t know to.

I suspect there’s actually a pretty strong tie between camera and car culture, and I know that many hobbies have this effect. People will get into something entirely unrelated, want to share it, and discover that the mediums of photo and video are great ways to do it. There’s a storied history of actors, athletes and musicians (yes, including Taylor Swift) picking up photography, and my coworker Abby Ferguson has talked to several photographers with a similar journey in her Behind the Photo series. In it, she showcases people creating amazing work, some of whom started out as VFX artists, cellists or divers. Not everyone who gets into photography tangentially will think of themselves as a photographer, but if they’re out there taking pictures, what else should we call them?

Mitchell Clark

I’ll admit that sometimes it’s easy to get a bit high-and-mighty about photography as an artform, as someone who started doing it for its own sake. This person bought an EOS R5C to take photos? Don’t they know there are so many better options? Those Gen Alpha kids are getting into compacts? Don’t they know about all the downsides, and are they even learning the fundamentals?

Whenever I catch myself thinking things like that, I try to take a step back because that attitude is deeply unhelpful. I should be glad whenever anyone picks up a camera and tries to learn it, and realize that shaming people for not knowing everything – even if they’ve been doing it for decades – is going to hurt the medium, not help it.

So snap on. Whether you’re the most dyed-in-the-wool, capital P Photographer, or whether you just picked up a camera to try and show your friends your latest skateboard trick, finished knitting project, favorite car, or anything else. We’re all doing the same thing here: trying to capture the world as we see it, and share that vision with others.

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The rumor mill around Apple’s upcoming iPhones, set to be announced September 9, has been in full swing for months, and the word on the street is that there’s supposedly one big change coming to the new phone’s cameras: the iPhone 18 Pro Max will get a variable aperture on its main camera. While people have been making this prediction for years, Bloomberg‘s Mark Gurman, who has a pretty decent track record, recently threw his weight behind it.

As an iPhone nerd, there are a lot of things that interest me about this. The first is that it marks a return of Apple differentiating the camera on its biggest, most expensive* model. The Pro Max phones have historically received new camera updates first – the 15 Pro Max got the 5x telephoto camera a year before it came to the standard Pro – but we’ve been in a stretch where the cameras on the Pro models have been exactly the same. If this rumor is true, that’s about to change.

But as a photographer and camera reviewer, I’m skeptical whether this change will matter much. Before we get to the reasons why, let’s talk about the theoretical benefits. At a high level, changing your lens’s aperture lets you control how much light is hitting the sensor and your depth of field (i.e., how blurry the background of your photo is). The smaller the aperture (or, counter-intuitively, the higher your F-number), the less light it lets in, and the more of your image will be in focus. Phones, historically, have quite fast lenses; the iPhone 17 Pro’s main camera shoots at a fixed F1.78. 

In bright, sunny conditions, this means the phone has to cope with a lot of light hitting the sensor, resorting to tricks like using extremely low ISOs and very fast shutter speeds. And as phone companies push to make their lenses faster to improve image quality and flexibility in low light, this becomes even harder. Adding an aperture that can stop down to, say, F4, would help take some of that pressure off.

Mitchell Clark

It’s worth noting that this would almost certainly be the direction Apple goes in, rather than making one that could open up from F1.78 to, say, F1.2. If it was able to make the lens faster, it already would’ve done so. And for phone photographers, that reduces the potential practical benefits; I’ve personally never run into a situation where it was physically too bright for my phone to cope, so an aperture that can stop down isn’t fixing a problem I currently have (with the one exception of video, where the closer you can get to a shutter speed that’s double your frame rate, the more natural motion will look).

The same is true for the other half of the equation, depth of field. To understand why, we have to introduce the concept of equivalent apertures. A F number is absolute; an F1.8 lens on a phone will transmit the same amount of light per square millimeter of sensor as a full-frame F1.8 will. However, because iPhones use much smaller sensors than traditional cameras, the amount of light gathered over the whole image area and the depth of field won’t be equivalent to what you’d get on a full-frame camera with an F1.8 lens. 

Mitchell Clark

The current iPhone 17 Pro main camera has a Type 1/1.28 (71.5mm²) sensor. That means that its F1.78 lens will produce the same depth of field as an F6.1 lens on a full-frame camera. If Apple makes it stop down to, say F4, that would give you a lens with two settings: F6.1 and F13.7 equiv. That’ll definitely make a difference in your available depth of field, but it’ll be a change from “enough” to “more than enough,” rather than making a huge difference to the types of shots you can get in most cases. It also, importantly, won’t make any difference if you want to get the coveted shallow depth of field look that the iPhone currently has to emulate with portrait mode.

Finally, let’s consider some historical context. Back when compact cameras were dominant, many of them used sensors that were similar sizes to the iPhone, and had the ability to change apertures. But while some had actual aperture blades like a traditional lens, others used a Waterhouse stop, moving a plate with a fixed aperture in between the lens and the sensor to stop down when needed.

This is less flexible – you don’t get the stops in between wide open and the plate’s diaphragm – but is mechanically simpler. That’s likely a huge consideration for Apple when it comes to building a device that will be subjected to pretty much every condition and abuse you can think of. This is, after all, a company that replaced a physical home button with a solid state one (and is rumored to have at least considered doing the same for the rest of the phone’s buttons, too).

DPReview

Some compacts also simply slotted in an ND filter, and reported it as a stopped down aperture, since it had the same effect on the incoming light. (It didn’t affect the depth of field, but, again, they already had plenty). Apple could go either of those routes rather than building a standard aperture, and it would have good reason to; going the traditional way may have reliability concerns, and could cost more at a time when Apple’s also being squeezed when it comes to chip pricing and availability.

With that said, we’ve seen phones with physical aperture mechanisms before. Samsung included the feature on the Galaxy S9 and S10, to extremely middling results. You essentially couldn’t tell the difference, and the company ended up dropping the feature. Huawei has several phones in its lineup today with variable apertures, but it essentially never gets a mention on the feature pages, despite how much of them are dedicated to talking about the cameras.

However Apple decides to implement it, if it does at all, the point is the same: it’s unlikely to be something you actually notice when it comes to the experience of using your phone as a camera or the photos you get out of it. But that’s not to say that Apple has just decided to make one of the most mechanically complex parts of its phones even more complicated for giggles, or that it’ll purely be a marketing gimmick.

To the latter point, I’m honestly 50/50 on whether I think it’ll bring it up in the keynote presentation at all (again, assuming the rumors are even accurate). There’s probably some technical reason why it’ll be nice to have as part of its computational image processing pipeline, and there may even be a slight noticeable benefit to it. And if, by some miracle, Apple has decided to massively increase the size of the camera sensor, then it could genuinely be an important inclusion, though, to be clear, that change hasn’t been rumored at all.

But don’t get your hopes up. At the end of the day, the odds are that iPhone photos will still look like iPhone photos (which is to say: pretty good, for a phone), and that there won’t be an appreciable difference between the camera on the iPhone 18 Pro and the one on the 18 Pro Max… or, for that matter, between the new phone and the one it’s replacing. Sometimes, a change is just a change, no matter how much buzz there is about it leading up to it.

* – Currently most expensive, anyways. Apple is also expected to introduce a folding phone that will almost certainly be priced above the Pro models and that will have worse cameras, if other major foldables are any indication.

I spend a lot of time thinking about my own photographic practice, but not nearly as much time doing anything about it. I have ideas for individual photos, for series I want to start or expand and concepts I would like to explore deeper. I’ve thought of different ways of printing and hanging my work, in case I ever get to show any of it. But when it comes to actually making the work, my follow-through is often lacking.

That tension was on my mind this week while attending Sony’s Kando event in Vermont, where Sony invited me, along with fellow press and other image-makers. One session in particular, Works in Progress, brought some of those thoughts into focus.

Works in Progress is modeled after National Geographic sessions, where photographers briefly present a single project they are currently working on in order to get feedback and find inspiration from each other. At Kando, individuals get seven minutes to share images or videos and a little bit about the body of work.

The session isn’t about gear at all; in fact, it was rare for someone to mention their setup and no technical details were mentioned. Instead, each presentation focused entirely on the ideas and images from a particular project they are passionate about and currently developing.

Abby Ferguson

That passion is my favorite part of the session: seeing people’s commitment to the work. Ira Block, a Sony Artisan of Imagery who co-chaired the session, summed it up well after the presentations: “Nothing is more inspiring than watching the inspiration of others.” There were remarkable photographs and videos throughout, but what stayed with me was watching people stand in front of a room and talk openly about the projects that matter to them. It made me look at my own work with a bit of renewed lens.

I could give a long list of reasons for pushing my own photography to the side. I have a full-time job and teach a college photography course. My husband and I just bought a house that needs a fair amount of work. My studio space is not really a studio at the moment, and it may not be for some time. It is expensive. I struggle to find the right venues, calls for art, and people to connect with. The list goes on.

Thankfully, I have been slightly more active with my art over the past month, and that feels like progress. I recently made time for a self-portrait that had been on my mind for months, and the process was deeply fulfilling. I also joined two friends to install a small exhibition at the campus gallery where we teach. Even better, the work I hung was from a series I have barely shown or discussed. 

Katie Tasch

Those were small steps toward finding my artistic voice again. They were a small flex of the creative muscles. And they also reminded me that I need to make something regularly, even if it is small.

I also need to remember the value of being around other creative people from time to time. I have written before about how joining local photography groups helped me find community in what can be a very solitary practice. This was a different kind of gathering, but it offered a similar reminder: making work can become isolating, especially when it keeps getting pushed behind work, responsibilities and everyday life. Being in a room with people who are actively wrestling with ideas, taking creative risks and sharing unfinished work can be an important kind of fuel.

That is what the Works in Progress session offered. Seeing what others were making and the care they were bringing to it gave me a burst of energy to return to my own work. It was a reminder to keep making photographs, even if I don’t yet know where a project is going, whether anyone will like it or whether it will ever see the light of day.

I know this session won’t be a magical kick in the pants that suddenly makes me create on a regular basis. But hearing that voice in my head more often can only help. And maybe my writing this can be that voice for someone else who also needs a gentle push to get out that camera or make some art. I hope it is.

Editor’s note: the text of this article was written by Mitchell, which is who is referred to using first-person pronouns. Abby is credited in the article as she makes up half the conversation it’s based on, and gave input on its content. The lede image was taken in real life, not from a television.

It was a title and thumbnail that was bound to get my attention. YouTuber Hunter Creates Things’ video “The Internet’s Most HATED Photography Trend” shows a blurry picture and with the word “tv.” in red. Clicking on it, I thought it was going to be about shutter drag (“TV” being how some brands refer to their cameras’ shutter priority modes), a photographic technique that’s almost inescapable amongst photographers right now. “I can see why people don’t like this,” I thought, “but I’m interested what this person has to say.”

Treat this video as required viewing; the rest of the article probably won’t make much sense if you haven’t seen it.

That’s not at all what it was about. Instead, it’s about a trend I’d totally missed: one where photographers will use their cameras to capture what’s playing on their televisions, often producing an image that looks very different to the one originally broadcast. I reacted… strongly to both the concept and the video about it, immediately sending it to my coworker Abby Ferguson with the message: “not gonna lie, I don’t think I can get behind this.”

This kicked off a conversation that was interesting enough that we thought it’d be worth sharing with you. But first, a bit of background info for context: Abby has an MFA in fine arts, thus is more well-versed in art history and theory than I am. Meanwhile, I have a background in video, and have even filmed sports for television before.

This image by Matthew Johnson is one of the examples Hunter discusses in his video.

When I first shared the video Abby had, unsurprisingly, already heard of the controversy.

Abby: I remember when those photos of the figure skater came out. I also didn't realize at the time that he was just taking photos of his TV and was pretty disappointed. I have very, very mixed feelings about them.

I replied that two of Hunter’s comments got under my skin in particular: the first was his assertion that “neither you or I are qualified to say whether this is good art,” which both of us disagreed with. The second was when he said “The goal of sports broadcast television is not to be art, but these photos don’t have to be information-first, aesthetics second. If you think about it, I don’t think I would ever take a screenshot of ESPN, and put that on my wall.”

Mitchell: Spoken like someone who honestly hasn't watched a sports broadcast in the last… I dunno, decade. They're so well-produced now, and there's clearly artistic shots and compositions on display?

Related: Abby’s interview with a videographer for the Super Bowl Halftime show

Abby: I do kind of get what he's saying with that line actually. Yes, broadcasts do now have artistic shots and compositions, but they are still more in the realm of documentary/photojournalism. These photos (though I kind of have a hard time calling them photos), take a more abstract approach.

Mitchell: Sure. But if I took a screenshot from that and edited it to produce the same effect that the photographers have, I feel like people would rightly call that plagiarism.

I’m not entirely sure, in retrospect, that this statement holds water. It’s probably more defensiveness based on having been on the opposite side of the TV. Abby pointed out that things are rarely that clear cut.

Abby: Maybe…but in the art world there's a rough understanding that you can take someone's original art and modify it to become your own. There's never been a clear black and white line about HOW modified, so I think these would very much fall into the gray area. They don't look like the original broadcast, so they become something new.

I still have issues with it, but from a legal perspective, I'm not sure they would be considered plagiarism.

We both agreed that things get extra dubious when creators taking pictures of their TV try to obscure what they’re doing, or don’t credit the source. And neither of us thought that taking what is essentially a crop of an existing composition is the same as actually being there and deciding how to capture the scene.

Abby: It feels….lazy? Like he's just doing this from the comfort of his living room while the actual footage is from people working their butts off.

Mitchell: But yeah, to your point, there is an art to the remix

Abby: I like the images, I just wish his process was different. Do that on actual subjects in real life.

In his video, Hunter brings up the 1974 series “TV Shots” from famed photographer Harry Gruyaert, where he also took photographs of his television playing the Olympics, sparking a similar debate. But both Abby and I agreed that Gruyaert’s work just… feels different. There are a lot of potential reasons why. Maybe subconsciously we’re appealing to authority; surely it must be more meaningful when a Magnum photographer does it? Perhaps it’s framing. Gruyaert posed his images as an interrogation of the medium of television itself. Or maybe it’s simply technological. A film photo of a CRT television showing a standard definition broadcast with deliberately wonky colors looks nothing like a photo taken by someone who was actually there. With 4K livestreams, the lines between shots for TV and shots of it blur.

We more or less left the conversation there, as we remembered that we probably had more productive things to do. But it’s also easy to see why we wound up talking about a video that I had mostly sent as a throw-away: it, and the pieces it discuss, relate to a lot of hot-button topics in 2026. Ever since YouTuber HBomberGuy released his four-hour magnum opus on plagiarism, there’s been renewed scrutiny around crediting people’s work (further fueled by how many generative AI systems are trained on existing material), and there are still people who, during debates on what counts as art, bring up Marcel Duchamp submitting a signed urinal* for an exhibition in 1917.

That’s part of what made us decide to share this conversation; obviously, we have our own perspectives, but they’re not going to be the only ones. Consider this the start of a discussion, as we’d be very interested to hear your thoughts on the trend and Hunter’s video. Be sure to join us in the comments below.

* Whether he was the one that signed it is up for debate.

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Earlier this week, Google announced the Pixel 11 Pro Fold, the latest entry in its lineup of folding phones. While it includes some meaningful improvements over its predecessor, Google is still asking people to pay $1900 for a phone that makes a lot of compromises, at a time when its competitors have offerings that don’t ask you to give up much.

The issue is most evident when it comes to cameras. Despite its “Pro” branding, the Pixel 11 Pro Fold’s camera setup is more similar to that of the standard Pixel 11 – a phone that costs $1000 less – than the Pixel 11 Pro. It has the same Type 1/1.56 (48mm²) main sensor and the same Type 1/3.2 (15.5mm²) telephoto camera as the Pixel 11, and its ultrawide camera is actually fractionally smaller. So yes, even compared to the Pixel 11, the Fold’s cameras are technically worse, while the Pro’s array beats it in every way.

Compare this with Samsung’s latest Galaxy Z Fold 8 Ultra. Sure, it costs $200 more than Google’s foldable (though at these prices, that only amounts to an 11% premium), and its three cameras are the same as you’d find on the top-of-the-line Galaxy S26 Ultra. Now, the Z Fold 8 Ultra lacks the periscope camera you’d get on the candybar ultra, but for most shooting situations, its cameras are comparable to those on standard flagships like the iPhone 17 Pro or Google Pixel 11 Pro.

In fairness to Google, if you’re just comparing the cameras, the Pixel 11 Pro Fold comes out a bit ahead of Samsung’s price-competitive Galaxy Z Fold 8. That phone has a better ultrawide, but omits a telephoto option completely. However, it’s also a passport-style phone, adopting a form-factor that looks like it may be the future of foldables, if early reviews are any indication. When Samsung compromises on the cameras, you get something in return.

Still, you could potentially argue that Google is competing with Samsung on the camera front, as long as you ignore that the latter offers another model if you don’t prefer to compromise. But while cameras are obviously our primary concern here at DPReview, we recognize that most people’s phone purchasing decisions won’t hinge on the minutiae of sensor sizes (though if you’re spending almost $2000 on a phone, odds are you’re an enthusiast who wants the best whether you’ll use it to its fullest or not). Unfortunately for Google, the 11 Pro Fold is falling behind in other ways, too.

Samsung

The Pixel 11 Pro Fold has a few physical changes that are genuine improvements. It has slimmer bezels, is a touch thinner and lighter and is more durable. But when you open up that interior screen, you’ll still be greeted with a noticeable crease down the middle, something Samsung has all but eliminated in its latest foldables thanks to some clever engineering. The Korean giant is also starting to adopt silicon-carbon battery tech, letting it pack more energy density into the same space. I suspect these two factors will be big points in Samsung’s favor to the typical foldable buyer – the big screen you’re paying so dearly for will be nicer to look at and your phone will likely last longer on a charge – even if they don’t care about cameras.

As if Samsung’s foldables weren’t enough of a threat to Google’s foldable ambitions, there’s even more competition on the horizon. Apple is expected to release its first foray into the form factor soon, likely with a passport-style phone. While I’d bet that its cameras won’t be anything special (if the iPhone Air is anything to go by), Apple undoubtedly has a way of exciting consumers about technologies that its competitors have long since adopted*. Google has brought a mild refresh with compromised cameras to a hype cycle fight.

What’s more, it’s really only Americans who will be choosing between the Pixel, Galaxy and iPhone. Outside of the US, there are even more options from companies like Oppo or Huawei, and while neither company has made one that uses the massive image sensors found in their main phones, that feels more like a matter of when, not if.

None of this is to say that I think the Pixel 11 Pro Fold will be bad. This is Google’s fourth folding phone, and it’s pretty good at making them by now. I’m sure the pictures it takes will be fine for most people, and that it’ll be good enough that the Google faithful will be happy to have it as an option. But with prices for foldables being higher than ever, and such fierce competition that promises to only get more intense in the coming months, I just don’t buy that good enough is good enough.

* – I’ll own up to the fact that this works on me, too. In 2024, I wrote an opinion piece about the Pixel 9 Pro Fold entitled “I don’t want to pay $1799 for worse photos.” And yet, hypocrite that I am, there’s a very high chance that I’ll buy the foldable iPhone, which may very well have worse cameras than my current iPhone 15 Pro. At the very least, it’ll almost certainly have fewer of them. The only thing saving me from being a complete liar is the fact that there’s no way Apple will charge $1800 for its foldable. I’ll consider myself lucky if it’s under $2000.

“I just wish someone would make a proper 6×7 digital camera.” It’s the logical endpoint of every discussion in which someone loftily dictates that modern digital medium format is somehow not “real” because it doesn’t follow the conventions of film photography. And I have to say, I just don’t understand it.

Is it nostalgia for a camera regretfully parted with, or a yearning for something we never got to have? That waist-level viewfinder experience that looked so cool when David Hemmings stood in for every ’60s British (male) celebrity photographer in Blow Up. Or, instead, memories of that family member with a lovingly assembled collection of Bronica or Hasselblad 6×6 gear?

I have to assume that it’s something like this, because it doesn’t make sense in reality. Unless a radically different (and much cheaper) sensor technology suddenly arrives, no one is going to make a new 6×7 system. Or 6×6. Or even 645.

The reason is twofold. The first is that it would be utterly unfeasible, economically. The second is that it would be completely unnecessary.

The economics don’t work, not even nearly

Film scales much more readily than semiconductor size: the cost of doubling the size of a piece of film is within the realms of double or triple. A single-digit multiple, anyway. Doubling the size of a sensor more than doubles the production cost. Doubling it again starts to look exponential. You can’t just pick an arbitrary size that film cameras used to use and say, “I want it that big.”

Phase One

The only modern 645 camera is the Phase 1 IQ4 150MP digital back. It costs around $50,000. Sony has just announced a movie camera with a similarly-sized chip. Its price hasn’t been made public, but it’s primarily going to be rented for use in productions with budgets that start with nine digits.

And that’s before you consider the fact that there aren’t huge caches of medium-format lenses that would shine under the scrutiny of high megapixel sensors, much less any financial motivation for any surviving company to support them. So on top of the fabulous cost of the sensor, you’d also need to fund the development of a whole new camera and lens system, to be amortized between an infinitesimal audience.

But beyond the economic impracticality, there’s a question of what you’d gain.

How much better do you need?

Yes, larger sensors can generally tolerate more light, per whole image, and hence deliver higher signal-to-noise ratios, meaning cleaner images with improved tonal quality. And, in principle, it should be easier to design a lens that resolves the higher resolution that a larger sensor could bring. These are exactly the reasons that medium-format film cameras continued to be valued after the arrival of the smaller “35mm” film format.

Richard Butler

But it’s worth recognizing that modern digital sensors outperform film by almost every metric. There’s a difference in the handling of highlights, but modern sensors deliver more detailed images with better tonal quality, even if you only consider shooting in good light. And they do so to the point that they challenge the quality of film at least one format larger. You can rival 645 film performance with a modern full-frame digital camera, if you expose it well, and if there’s any question about that, you can always move up to a 44x33mm digital camera.

The quality you can get from a 44×33 medium-format sensor is sensational, which rapidly diminishes the applications that require anything more. Which just makes the overwhelming additional costs that come with it much harder to justify.

If you need the very best image quality available, you can spend that $50,000 and buy a Phase One IQ4. And a bit more on lenses.

But until you’ve bitten that particular bullet and found the results lacking, it’s hard to argue that any company should sensibly try to embark on digital 6×7 for you. Because, seriously, what is it you’re really hoping to achieve?