Depth

Depth is the three-dimensional sensation perceived in an otherwise flat image. It's built through stacked successive planes — foreground, subject, background — through perspective, the relative scale of objects, and atmospheric perspective (that bluish haze that softens distances). Careful: depth has nothing to do with depth of field, which describes the zone of sharpness. Here, we're talking about felt volume, not controlled blur.

Picture an alpine valley at dawn. You place a textured rock in the foreground, a meter from the lens. The valley stretches into the middle plane, its trees forming an irregular carpet. In the distance, a mountain range veiled by morning haze. Settings: 24 mm, f/11, hyperfocal focus to keep everything sharp. The magic comes from overlapping shapes — beloved by Edward Hopper — where each plane partially covers the next, building a visual staircase the eye climbs naturally. To reinforce the entry into the image, think leading lines: a path, a river, a ridge that guides the gaze from near to far.

Landscape that's all background. The mountain is sublime, but with no foreground, the image flattens like a postcard. No nearby anchor point, no scale of comparison: the volume disappears. Place a rock, a flower, a detail a meter from you.

Confusing depth with depth of field. Creamy bokeh on a portrait doesn't create three-dimensional depth; it isolates the subject. They're two distinct ideas: one is the 3D sensation, the other is the zone of sharpness.