Stéphanie Probst challenges the widespread belief that pinhole photography is the original form of photography. Inspired by Denis Bernard’s Sténopés, it traces the technique’s modern roots, distinguishes it from the camera obscura, and explores its resurgence as an avant-garde, poetic practice. Historical analysis and personal reflection reveal that pinhole photography is not a relic but a vibrant, experimental tool with lasting creative potential.
What if pinhole photography wasn’t the ancestor of photography?
This article on pinhole history and mythography was written after the reading of Sténopés: histoire et théorie d’une machine naturelle by Denis Bernard (available in French, Mimésis, 2022). It explores the history of pinhole photography and its relationship with the camera obscura, while deconstructing the myth that it is the direct ancestor of modern photography. It examines technical advancements, historical debates, and the contemporary rediscovery of pinhole photography, highlighting its innovative and poetic potential.
The article is also available in French here.
About Stéphanie Probst
I am a Swiss artist and photographer practising analogue photography. I have been using pinhole photography for about fifteen years. My approach is experimental, playful, and collective. The accessible aspect and apparent simplicity of pinhole photography initially attracted me. Then, the infinite possibilities, technical variations, and practical applications continued to fascinate me.
I enjoy involving the public in the shooting process and my artistic practice; I notably conduct workshops on pinhole photography. This led me to delve into the history of the technique, often presented as an archaic or even original version of photography. However, upon reading Denis Bernard’s book, I realised that the conception and mythology associated with pinhole photography are not so straightforward… This reading even challenged many of my certainties.
Starting from this realisation, I attempt to share with you the lessons from the book and open the reflection to further explore the possibilities of the fascinating and somewhat magical practice of pinhole photography.
About Denis Bernard
Denis Bernard is a certified photographer in Applied Arts and a professor of graphic arts, research, and the history of arts, sciences, and techniques at the Lycée des Arènes in Toulouse (DSAA). He taught photography from 1996 to 2009 at ESAIG Estienne. He draws inspiration from both his academic research and personal experience to explore the depths of pinhole
photography. Holding a thesis on the subject, he published the book Sténopés: histoire et théorie d’une machine naturelle in 2022.
“His research currently focuses on the origins and history of photographic optics; the emergence of technical perspectives in photography at the end of the 19th century; multiple viewpoints and composite images; the reading and relationship between the structure of optical images and the internal structure of the chambers where images are formed [1].”
According to his research, pinhole photography is not as archaic as one might think. In reality, it is a relatively recent and modern way of photographing, less rudimentary than it may seem. His work highlights both the technical and poetic aspects of pinhole photography, underscoring its innovative and creative potential.
Camera Obscura and Genesis of Pinhole Photography: Experience, Observation, and Capture
To understand pinhole photography, it is essential to start with the camera obscura. Bernard emphasises that, despite their frequent association, these two concepts are distinct.
A camera obscura is a dark room or space with a “small opening” or a lens. This opening allows light to pass through, projecting an inverted image of the outside world onto the interior surface. Historically, these devices were used by scientists to study the diffraction of light (does it behave like a wave or particles?), leading to the study of geometry and images.
Artists adopted these tools to study perspective. There were also uses for demonstrations and spectacles, involving a magical dimension of the technique that evokes wonder.
Since antiquity, camera obscuras with small openings or lenses have been used to study light and optics, in the arts and during demonstrations or spectacles. Before the 19th century, capturing the projected image involved drawing, making the experience tactile and immersive for those inside the device. Bernard describes this period as the pre-photographic state of the camera obscura. During this pre-photographic period, it was a visual and sensory experience where the body was involved in the device: it was a physical experience of perceiving light and reality.
It is interesting to note that historical accounts often describe a “small opening” rather than a pinhole. This implies the coexistence rather than a temporal succession of methods. There were two variants: lens-based models, which produced brighter and more focused images, and pinhole models, less bright but offered a geometrically perfect projection without edges. The latter, although less detailed, had equal sharpness across the entire field. These two options offer advantages and disadvantages: it is the use and need (observation/capture) that determine the choice of method and technical design of the device.
Transition to Photography
The advent of photography in 1839 marked a turning point in optical technologies. This evolution transformed the user’s interaction with the device, leading to a new paradigm. Instead of experimenting directly with the image inside the device, photographers had to capture and conceptualise the image from the outside, then wait for its development to see the result. Pinhole photography thus became an intellectual experiment rather than a visual experience.
The first photographers probably relied on lenses, despite the technical challenges of materials, as the low sensitivity of photographic plates required particularly long exposure times (bitumen of Judea, daguerreotypes), and thus more concentrated light, which the pinhole probably did not allow.
Moreover, the term “pinhole” seems to have been mentioned for the first time in 1856 by David Brewster, one of the first to talk about photography without optics, using only a “small opening.” This suggests that lenticular photography indeed precedes pinhole photography.
“If in 1853, Brewster still mentions the degree of perfection achieved by the camera obscura since its application to photography, and notably the quality of achromatic lens objectives, nothing is said about any intention to substitute these optical systems with a perforation the size of a pinhole. Yet, he will achieve this three years later in the book The Stereoscope […]” [2]
“[…] Brewster and Eggerton discover and experiment with what they think is a new photographic technique. Brewster sees in the use of this optical rival to lenticular glasses “the best instrument of the photographer” and even considers it as a “theoretical camera.”[3]
“[…] Seventeen years after the disclosure of the daguerreotype process, Brewster invents a new photographic use of a pinhole, which, in France, is not yet a pinhole camera.”[4]
From 1886-1888, advances in photosensitive materials made pinhole photography more practical and therefore more frequent.
Bernard explains well the interest of photographers in these optical and geometric renderings that make it the “ideal” instrument, notably Albert Londe (La photographie moderne, 1896).[5]
Debates and Evolution
Between 1886 and the early 20th century, pinhole photography sparked lively debates among photographers. These discussions focused on the properties of light, optimal aperture sizes, and the balance between sharpness and blur. Two schools of thought emerged: the “Sharpists,” who valued precision, and the “Blurrists,” who appreciated the diffuse and dreamlike quality of pinhole images.
Images obtained with lenses are more detailed, bringing depth of field and a focal point, directing the viewer’s gaze. However, they have the disadvantage of aberrations, distortions, or curvatures caused by the lens. Pinhole images, on the other hand, present perfect geometry, more diffuse but uniform sharpness throughout the image, and longer exposure times. While some criticised this uniformity as flat or unexpressive, others considered it closer to human vision. In architectural photography, pinholes offer wide-angle capabilities unmatched by lenses.
Rediscovery and Modern Use
Although interest diminished in the mid-20th century, pinhole photography never disappeared. Its “renaissance” or “rediscovery” in the 1960s and 1980s was not simply nostalgic for old techniques but avant-garde. Photographers sought to resist the increasing automation of modern cameras and rediscover the experimental freedom of analogue techniques to push the boundaries of photography.
Bernard emphasises that pinhole photography was never truly forgotten but was overshadowed by technological advances in modern cameras. As cameras became more automated, photographers lost the control and experimental freedom that pinhole practice made possible again. It allowed artists to regain power and offered a new experimental ground against the standardisation of automated cameras.
Between the 1970s and 1990s, artists, whether amateurs or professionals, like Denis Bernard, explored techniques such as multiple pinholes and long exposures, inventing new shooting methods. The fabrication of pinholes allowed capturing more than 360 degrees of an image, causing intersections and enabling the feeling of the volume of photographs. These experiments pushed the limits of visual representation, merging reality and abstraction.
Contemporary Uses
Pinhole photography initially was a scientific exploration of light and optics, leading to physical, sensory, then contemplative, avant-garde, and poetic experiences. It evolved into a unique method of representing the world. Today, as photography is challenged by artificial intelligence, massive production, and unprecedented speed, analogue and experimental techniques remain tools that allow experimentation, hybridisation, and freedom against the formatted devices of the industrial market.
One specific aspect of pinhole photography is its technicality. On the one hand, anyone can easily achieve results with basic equipment and a rough hole. However, variables such as the shape of the chamber, the diameter of the hole (optimal or not depending on the distance from the support), the thickness and material in which the hole is drilled, the multiplication of these holes, the surface, and even the flatness (not systematic) of the sensitive or observable support make it a particularly elaborate science full of creative, poetic, and chance that is particularly rich for the creation of today.
I hope this text will encourage all photographers and pinholers around the world to dive into it and discover the unknown (yet) possibilities of this medium.
Read the article in French
Notes
- https://cral.ehess.fr/membres/denis-bernard
- D. Bernard, Sténopés: Histoire et théorie d’une machine naturelle, Paris, Mimésis, collection Images, mediums no 32, 2022, p.139.
- Ibid, p.139
- Ibid, p.140
- A. Londe, La photographie moderne. Traité pratique de la photographie et de ses applications à l’industrie et à la Science, Paris, Masson, 1896, 2nd ed., pp.93-94. However, it is sometimes cited as a “backup” solution when lenses were defective. Long exposure times also remain a hindrance to using these devices for live models.
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