The bigger the lens, the better the photographer … true or not?
Meet two photographers, both equally talented, both with decades of photography experience, and each with a keen eye for detail. Yet, in the grand theater of public perception, when standing side-by-side, only one seems to get the limelight—and it all comes down to the size of the lens.
I’m the one with the big lens. My photographer wife, Therese Iknoian, has a short lens.
Whenever I photograph wildlife, I carry a lens so big it looks like it might need its own seat on an airplane. When I encounter people on a trail, heads turn. "Wow, did you see the size of that lens?" people whisper in awe. I’ve had folks ask if I shoot for National Geographic. Most often, though, I hear from people, as they stare with admiration at my lens, “You must be a really good photographer.”
Meanwhile, Therese (the one with the shorter lens) can stand next to me and go unnoticed. Being named “Photographer of the Year” in 2024 matters not one iota. It is as if the size of her lens has rendered Therese invisible.
It's almost comical how often this scenario plays out. Without exception, people assume that I must be the better photographer because my camera sports a larger lens. It is as if everyone believes firmly that the size of a camera lens correlates with photographic talent. I am pretty sure this has something to do with Newton’s third law of physics, which states that the size of the reaction is equal to the size of a lens … or something like that … I think … OK, I admit I slept through college physics.
In truth, this sort of interaction drives me batty. But I do understand where the perception of size equals talent comes from. Professional photographers or paparazzi are often shown using big cameras and long lenses in movies, TV shows, sports broadcasts, magazines, and websites. This only reinforces the idea that big lenses equal professionalism and skill. Still, while I appreciate attention as much as the next man, I get tired of all the ogling over my lens size.
There is another aspect to having a big lens: No matter where I point it, eyes follow its path, assuming whatever I am pointing that huge thing at must be worth seeing. Naturally, the resulting photograph will be award-winning … maybe on the cover of Nat Geo or shown worldwide. Well, of COURSE…. Why? Because to so many people I encounter, that big lens is not just a lens: it’s a tool of greatness that could only be wielded by a great photographer. I could be pointing my lens at a pile of nothing, maybe just checking out some traffic on a distant street, but inevitably, I will hear, “I can’t wait to see that photo; I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”
This brings me to the other thing I often hear from folks staring admiringly at my long lens: “Wow, that camera of yours must take awesome pictures.”
Deep down, I admit to wanting to respond, “It's incredible how technology works these days! Like my oven automatically whips up five-course dinners, my camera snaps stunning photos without me lifting a finger. Honestly, I'm just the human tripod.”
Instead, I smile and say, “Well, I like to think that the photographer has a role in taking the photo, but yes, it is a great camera.”
Having a big lens also means that I will most often be the one that some random tourist walks up to with a smartphone and asks, “Would you please take a photo of me by this tree?” I can be standing right next to Therese, yet to the smartphone tourist, mesmerized by my colossal lens, she has disappeared under a cloak of invisibility.
Though I have never tested a theory of mine, I imagine that even if I took a blurry photo with a person’s smartphone and handed it back to them, they would look at it in awe, as if the blur was intentional. As if I had created an excellent photographic work of art. Such is the power of my huge lens.
In the grand theater of public perception and photography, it is apparent that size matters. While the attention is frequently amusing for us both, I'm confident that Therese enjoys her level of invisibility. I’ve recently caught her smirking near my lens’s adoring fans. And I know what she’s thinking – people, it’s not the size of the lens that matters. It’s how you use it that counts. And she’s absolutely correct.
— Story by Michael - See more photos by Michael Hodgson here – many taken with his BIG lens and all available for purchase for gifts or just for you!