Nikon has introduced the NIKKOR Z 24-70mm f/2.8 S II, a new-generation standard zoom lens for full-frame/FX-format mirrorless cameras. The lens features an internal zoom mechanism, improving balance during operation and reducing the risk of dust and debris entering while zooming. It also offers enhanced resistance to dust and drips, making it suitable for outdoor use.
The lens is the first zoom model to adopt Nikon’s Silky Swift VCM (SSVCM) autofocus drive, achieving autofocus speeds approximately five times faster than its predecessor, the NIKKOR Z 24-70mm f/2.8 S. Autofocus tracking during zooming has also been improved by around 60%, enabling better performance when photographing fast-moving subjects.
Weighing about 675 g, the lens is among the lightest in its class and supports a 77 mm filter thread. It has a minimum focusing distance of 0.24 m at the wide end and 0.33 m at the telephoto end, with maximum reproduction ratios of 0.21× and 0.32× respectively.
Additional features include an 11-blade diaphragm for rounded bokeh, suppression of focus breathing for video, a filter adjustment window on the lens hood, and coatings designed to minimise reflections, ghosting, and flare. The lens also offers a control ring with an optional tactile “click” function.
The NIKKOR Z 24-70mm f/2.8 S II will be available starting August 22, 2025.
Canon India has introduced Retail Utsav, a partner engagement program that will connect with over 4,000 retailers across 45 cities. The initiative began in Delhi, Mumbai, Bengaluru, and Kolkata, and will extend to other cities including Guwahati, Bhopal, Nashik, Surat, Cochin, Coimbatore, Udaipur, Chandigarh, and Agartala.
Retail Utsav will include activities such as product quizzes, display programs, and reward-based engagement, where retailers can participate in on-ground sessions and unlock incentives through multiple reward slabs.
According to Canon India, the initiative provides an opportunity to connect with retail partners, exchange feedback, and share product knowledge. The company stated that the program aims to support retailers with relevant information and tools while encouraging active participation through interactive experiences.
The inaugural FOTO Bali Festival launched at Nuanu Creative City from 26 July to 17 August 2025, marking a major milestone in Indonesia’s cultural scene. Featuring 34 artists from 10 countries and 32 projects, including 241 prints, multimedia, and photobooks. The festival explores the theme LIFE through exhibitions, workshops, talks, and tours. Curated by Ng Swan Ti and Gatari Surya Kusuma, the work spans grief, intimacy, resistance, and renewal. Events unfold across Labyrinth Art Gallery, Labyrinth Garden, and Popper’s Triangle. Over 25 public sessions feature leading voices like Beawiharta, Edy Purnomo, and Anshika Varma. Festival Director Kelsang Dolma emphasized its collaborative spirit and ambition to elevate photography in the region. The launch also coincided with Nuanu Nights, blending art, music, and Balinese culture.
Photojournalism has always been about capturing the truth: raw, immediate, and unfiltered. But in today’s high-tech landscape, that mission is being reshaped by tools that expand the reach and perspective of visual storytellers. Among the most significant of these tools are drones and remote cameras. Once reserved for military operations or Hollywood productions, these technologies are becoming more essential to journalists reporting on everything from war zones to climate disasters. They’ve changed how stories are seen and who gets to see them.
Expanding the Field of View
Traditional photojournalists have always relied on being physically present to get the shot. That’s still crucial. But drones and remote cameras allow for an expanded field of vision, quite literally. Drones can capture sweeping aerial views, chase moving subjects across rugged terrain, and reveal scenes inaccessible to humans. Remote cameras, often set up in risky or unreachable locations, provide a way to continuously document events without putting the photographer in harm’s way.
These technologies don’t just offer new angles, they provide entirely new layers of context. An aerial shot of a protest, for instance, can show its scale in a way a ground-level image never could. Similarly, a remote camera can capture the moments before and after a key event – things that might be missed in the scramble of live coverage.
Safety and Access in Dangerous Environments
Photojournalists often find themselves in the world’s most dangerous places: war zones, disaster areas, sites of civil unrest. Getting close enough to document the story while staying safe has always been a delicate balance. Drones and remote cameras tip the scales.
During the conflict in Ukraine, for example, journalists have used drones to document damage to infrastructure, troop movements, and civilian conditions—without exposing themselves to frontline risks. In natural disaster zones like wildfires or hurricanes, drones can fly over unstable terrain or collapsing structures, capturing critical visuals while the journalist stays out of harm’s way.
Remote cameras, meanwhile, have been placed in areas prone to sudden violence, such as protest zones or wildlife corridors in environmental reporting. These cameras can be triggered by motion or operated from a distance, allowing for ongoing documentation without requiring a human presence.
Ethics, Privacy, and Grey Areas
With new tools come new responsibilities. Drones and remote cameras raise significant ethical and legal questions. Just because you can capture something doesn’t always mean you should.
Privacy concerns are especially sensitive. In densely populated areas, a drone might inadvertently capture private moments on balconies, in backyards, or through windows. Similarly, placing remote cameras in public spaces can blur the line between journalism and surveillance.
Then there are the legal hurdles. Drone regulations vary wildly between countries and even within regions. Journalists must navigate a complex web of flight permissions, no-fly zones, and altitude restrictions. Violating these can lead to fines, or worse, the loss of equipment, credentials, and most definitely, legal challenges.
Responsible photojournalism demands more than technical skill. It requires ethical judgment of balancing the public’s right to know against the individual’s right to privacy. The best practitioners approach drones and remote cameras not as toys, but as powerful tools that must be wielded carefully.
Changing the Nature of Storytelling
What these technologies offer isn’t just more coverage, it’s different storytelling! Aerial footage allows for sweeping narrative arcs. Time-lapse sequences from remote cameras can show change over time in a visceral way – deforestation, migration, urban sprawl.
This shift impacts how audiences engage with news. Visuals from drones are more cinematic, often resembling scenes from a documentary or film. That has benefits including greater emotional resonance, higher engagement, but it also raises concerns. If photojournalism becomes too polished, too smooth, does it start to feel less authentic?
To avoid this trap, many journalists pair drone and remote footage with on-the-ground images and reporting. The combination provides both scale and intimacy, a macro and micro view that gives a fuller picture of events. It’s not about replacing traditional methods, but enhancing them.
Accessibility and Democratisation
One of the most transformative aspects of drones and remote cameras is their increasing affordability. Once prohibitively expensive, drones are now accessible to freelancers and small news outlets. Remote camera kits can be built on a modest budget with off-the-shelf parts.
This democratisation opens the door for underrepresented voices. Indigenous journalists, grassroots activists, and citizen reporters are using these tools to tell their own stories, often from perspectives overlooked by mainstream media. A drone flying over a pipeline construction site isn’t just capturing visuals—it’s documenting resistance, cultural preservation, and environmental risk.
However, this accessibility also means more noise. Not all drone footage is created equal, and without journalistic training or ethical standards, the line between reporting and propaganda can blur. The key challenge is curating quality, verifying authenticity, and maintaining journalistic rigour in an environment saturated with visuals.
Challenges and Limitations
While drones and remote cameras have revolutionised visual journalism, they aren’t without drawbacks. Battery life, signal interference, weather, and line-of-sight limitations can all impede drone operations. Remote cameras are susceptible to theft, vandalism, or technical failures. Both require planning, permits, and in some cases, special certifications.
And then there’s the human factor. No drone can replicate the instinct, empathy, and storytelling sense of a seasoned photojournalist. A remote camera can capture a moment, but it can’t frame it with intention. These tools are extensions, not replacements, of human vision and judgment.
The Road Ahead
Looking forward, the integration of artificial intelligence, real-time streaming, and advanced image processing will push these tools even further. Drones may one day identify developing news in real-time using onboard AI. Remote cameras could use machine learning to filter and flag significant moments as they happen.
But for now, the core role of these tools remains clear: they expand the reach, depth, and safety of visual journalism. They empower photographers to tell bigger stories, more safely, and from more angles than ever before. Used wisely, they reinforce the fundamental mission of journalism—to witness, to reveal, to inform.
In a world flooded with images, clarity matters more than ever. And in the hands of responsible journalists, drones and remote cameras are helping provide just that—clearer stories, truer perspectives, and a broader view of the truth.
Airshows are spectacular events that combine engineering marvels, human skill, and breathtaking visuals. For photographers, they present a unique opportunity to capture the essence of aviation—speed, power, and elegance. However, aerial photography at airshows straddles a fine line between artistic expression and journalistic documentation. While some photographers aim to create visually stunning compositions, others focus on accurately portraying events for news and historical records. This article explores the intersection of art and journalism in aerial photography, examining the challenges, ethical considerations, and the evolving role of photographers in this high-flying domain.
The Artistic Perspective: Capturing Beauty in Motion
Aerial photography at airshows often leans toward artistry. Photographers seek to freeze moments of dramatic action, jets roaring past in tight formation, smoke trails painting the sky, or the iconic “knife-edge” passes that defy gravity. These images are not just records of events; they are carefully composed works of art.
Key Elements of Artistic Aerial Photography
Composition and Timing – The best airshow photos rely on perfect timing and framing. A split-second delay can mean missing a critical moment, such as a jet breaking the sound barrier or a formation team executing a synchronised manoeuvre.
Lighting and Atmosphere – The interplay of sunlight, clouds, and smoke trails adds depth and drama. Backlit aircraft, golden-hour shots, and silhouettes against a setting sun elevate photographs from mere snapshots to fine art.
Emotion and Storytelling – Great aviation photos tell a story. The intensity of a pilot’s focus, the roar of engines, and the reactions of the crowd can all be conveyed through a single image.
Artistic photographers often post-process their images to enhance colours, contrast, and sharpness, pushing the boundaries of reality to create visually striking pieces.
The Journalistic Approach: Documenting Reality
While artistic photographers prioritise aesthetics, photojournalists covering airshows have a different mission: to document events accurately and inform the public. Their work appears in newspapers, magazines, and online news platforms, where factual representation matters more than creative embellishment.
Principles of Aviation Photojournalism
Accuracy and Authenticity – Journalistic integrity demands that images remain unaltered in ways that mislead viewers. While basic adjustments (exposure, cropping) are acceptable, heavy manipulation that changes the context of a scene is unethical.
Newsworthiness – Photojournalists focus on key moments: record-breaking performances, rare aircraft displays, or unexpected incidents (such as emergencies or crashes). Their work serves as a historical record.
Safety and Ethics – Unlike artistic photographers who may prioritise the perfect shot, journalists must consider safety regulations and avoid interfering with pilots or airspace protocols.
The 2011 Reno Air Race crash, where a P-51 Mustang tragically crashed into spectators, highlighted the role of photojournalists in documenting both the spectacle and the risks of airshows. Their images provided crucial evidence for investigations while respecting the gravity of the event.
The Ethical Dilemma: When Art and Journalism Collide
The line between art and journalism blurs when photographers must decide how much editing is acceptable. For instance:
– Selective framing – Omitting parts of a scene to emphasise drama can alter public perception.
– Colour grading – Enhancing skies and smoke for artistic effect may misrepresent actual conditions.
– Composite images – Combining multiple shots into one (e.g. merging different aircraft formations) creates compelling art but violates journalistic standards.
The debate intensifies when images go viral. A heavily edited photo might win awards in an art competition, but face backlash if presented as factual journalism.
The Impact of Social Media and Technology
The rise of drone cameras has revolutionised aerial photography, offering new perspectives but also raising concerns:
– Drones provide stunning overhead views but can interfere with airshow safety.
– AI-enhanced editing tools make it easier to manipulate images, further complicating the distinction between art and journalism.
– Instant sharing on platforms like Instagram blurs intent—is the photographer an artist, a journalist, or both?
A word of caution: DO NOT fly drones at an active airshow as it is restricted airspace – it’s dangerous for the aircraft and you might also get arrested for doing so. Only fly drones after receiving explicit permission in a closed airspace.
Balancing Creativity and Responsibility
Airshow photography exists in a unique space where artistry and journalism intersect. While artistic photographers push creative boundaries to capture the beauty of flight, photojournalists adhere to ethical standards to document reality. Both play vital roles in preserving aviation history and inspiring future generations. As technology evolves, photographers must remain mindful of their responsibilities—whether crafting a masterpiece or reporting the facts. The sky is not just a canvas; it’s also a stage where truth and artistry must find harmony.
In the dark corners of nature, far from city lights and human eyes, organisms glow. Some flicker like fading embers; others pulse like neon signs underwater. This phenomenon, known as bioluminescence, is one of nature’s most hauntingly beautiful tricks. To witness it is one thing. To photograph it, especially up close, at extreme magnifications like 2:1, is another. Welcome to one of the most elusive and visually captivating niches of macro photography: the glowing world of bioluminescent life.
Bioluminescence is the production and emission of light by a living organism. It occurs when certain enzymes (usually luciferase) react with molecules like luciferin, producing light in the process. Unlike fluorescence or phosphorescence, which require external light sources to charge and emit, bioluminescence is entirely self-powered. It’s a survival mechanism used for hunting, mating, camouflage, or communication.
The phenomenon is more common than most people think. It appears in deep-sea creatures, fireflies, certain fungi, bacteria, and even some land snails and millipedes. Yet, very few photographers have successfully captured this rare light at extreme close-up levels – especially at a magnification of 2:1 or higher, where even a few millimetres fill the frame.
The Challenge of 2:1 Macro
In macro photography, magnification refers to the ratio of subject size on the camera sensor versus its real-world size. A 1:1 ratio means your subject is life-size on the sensor. At 2:1, it is twice as large. This kind of magnification reveals details invisible to the naked eye, tiny ridges on insect wings, the fine fuzz on moss, the glistening spore structures of fungi.
Now combine that scale with a bioluminescent subject, likely active only at night, incredibly small, and dim by photographic standards, and you begin to see the scope of the challenge. You’re not just capturing a small glowing organism; you’re capturing it at high magnification, in darkness, without external light.
A Rare Cast of Characters: Bioluminescent Macro Subjects
Let’s look at some of the subjects that might grace the frame of a patient (and lucky) macro photographer working in this niche:
1. Fireflies (Lampyridae)
The most familiar glowing insects, and perhaps the “easiest” bioluminescent organism to photograph. While their bodies are larger than most macro subjects, photographing the actual light-emitting organ at 2:1 allows for abstract compositions of glowing tissue, textures, and colour gradients.
2. Railroad Worms (Phengodidae)
These beetles possess multiple glowing spots across their bodies—some red, some green. At 2:1, each glowing node becomes a separate frame-worthy subject.
These glowing mushrooms emit a faint green light. Found in humid, decaying forests, their glow is often too dim for the human eye, but macro lenses and long exposures reveal stunning radial gill patterns and spore surfaces.
4. Marine Plankton and Dinoflagellates
Usually photographed in large-scale beach scenes, these single-celled organisms emit brilliant blue light when agitated. But under controlled lab conditions (and with serious patience), their bioluminescence can be observed and captured in isolation at high magnifications.
5. Bacterial Colonies (e.g., Vibrio fischeri)
These microbes glow as part of a symbiotic relationship with marine life like squid. Cultured under lab conditions on petri dishes, their colonies can be viewed at high macro magnification—revealing granular structure and shimmering wave-like patterns.
The Technical Hurdles
Capturing bioluminescence at 2:1 magnification is an extreme technical challenge. Here’s why and how a determined photographer might overcome the odds:
1. No External Light Allowed
By definition, bioluminescence must be shot in the dark. Unlike traditional macro subjects, you can’t use a flash, LED, or even a dim modeling light without washing out the glow. You’re forced to rely entirely on the emitted light.
Solution: Use long exposures—often 30 seconds or more—with high ISO settings. Multiple exposures may be required and stacked to reduce noise.
2. Minuscule Light Source
Most bioluminescent organisms emit extremely faint light. What looks magical to the eye is often too dim for a sensor.
Solution: Shoot with the fastest possible lens (f/2.8 or wider), and consider using image intensifiers or highly sensitive astro-modified cameras. Some researchers use cooled sensors for scientific imaging.
3. Shallow Depth of Field
At 2:1, even at f/8, your depth of field is razor-thin. But stopping down means losing light—already in short supply.
Solution: Focus stacking is one way around this, but it’s difficult with live subjects. Alternatively, you can embrace the shallow DOF and shoot creatively, emphasising a single glowing plane of focus.
4. Subject Motion
Many bioluminescent subjects are alive and moving – fireflies twitch, fungi sway in the breeze, bacteria multiply.
Solution: Stability is a key. Photograph in windless environments (ideally indoors), use remote triggers, and isolate your subject physically. With fungi and bacteria, create a dark lab-like environment to minimise disturbance.
Why It’s Worth the Effort
When it works, it’s spellbinding! Imagine seeing the tiny gill ridges of a glowing mushroom, radiating green like stained glass. Or the bioluminescent organ of a firefly, not just as a dot of light in the night sky—but as a textured, pulsating structure that looks like an alien gem. These images are not just rare—they’re revelatory. They expand our understanding of life and energy and demonstrate that beauty often hides at the intersection of science and patience.
Moreover, these photographs are powerful visual tools. They connect audiences with the wonder of the natural world. In conservation, bioluminescent fungi and insects are often used as flagship species to raise awareness about deforestation, soil health, and biodiversity. Macro bioluminescence photography can play a role in that education—bridging the gap between wonder and responsibility.
Final Thoughts
“Bioluminescence at 2:1” is more than just a technical challenge. It’s a frontier. It represents one of the most poetic and elusive forms of visual storytelling available to photographers. To pursue it is to slow down, experiment, and often fail. But the reward is a window into life’s quietest glow—a glimpse into the deep biological mysteries that surround us, mostly unseen.
As camera technology evolves and image sensors become more sensitive, this rare niche may become more accessible. But for now, it remains one of the most difficult and magical pursuits in all of macro photography.
In a world increasingly flooded with artificial light, perhaps the most valuable images are the ones that show us the natural light still flickering in the dark.
Vivo has launched the X200 FE, a compact flagship smartphone with high-end features in a smaller form factor. It features a 6.31-inch AMOLED display with 1.5K resolution, 120Hz refresh rate, and peak brightness of 5,000 nits. The phone runs on the MediaTek Dimensity 9300+ processor and offers up to 16GB RAM and 512GB storage.
The rear camera setup includes a 50MP main sensor, a 50MP periscope telephoto lens with 3x zoom, and an 8MP ultra-wide lens, developed in partnership with Zeiss. It supports advanced photo and video features including Stage Mode and telephoto stabilization.
The X200 FE is powered by a 6,500mAh battery with 90W fast charging. It has an IP68/69 rating for water and dust resistance and operates on FunTouch OS based on Android 14.
In India, the X200 FE is priced at ₹54,999 for the 12GB + 256GB model and ₹59,999 for the 16GB + 512GB variant. It is available in Ember Yellow, Frost Blue, and Luxe Grey through Flipkart, Vivo’s official website, and offline retail stores.
Decay is usually seen as a sign of failure, of neglect, corrosion, and abandonment. It marks the places we leave behind and the things we no longer touch. But for those who carry a macro lens, decay is not the end of something, but the beginning of a fascinating visual story. Up close, rot becomes a rich texture, rust becomes a complex pattern, and ruin becomes poetry. Welcome to the world of Decay Diaries, where beauty isn’t found in perfection, but in what is slowly falling apart.
The Allure of the Forgotten
Macro photography has a way of flipping the world on its head. What we might walk past without a second glance – a crumbling wall, a rusted hinge, a bruised fruit – suddenly transforms into something captivating when seen a few centimeters away. Details emerge: delicate cracks, explosive colours, structures layered like geological strata.
There’s something deeply meditative about photographing decay. It requires slowing down, seeing not just what’s there, but what’s happening. Every spot of rot or smear of rust is an unfolding process. Each tells a quiet story of time, transformation, and return.
Rot: The Slow Rebirth
Decomposition might be the most misunderstood form of beauty. When a leaf breaks down, it doesn’t simply vanish, it morphs! Its veins become skeletons, its surface flakes into lace. Fruit, as it ferments and collapses, glows with unexpected colours and textures: deep purples, bruised blues, earthy browns, even soft, ghostly whites of spreading mould.
Fungi and bacteria bring their own aesthetic. Under macro, a simple mould bloom reveals a forest of tiny filaments topped with dew-like spores. What was once repulsive becomes otherworldly. Photographed well, rot takes on a quiet dignity, almost painterly in its colour and form.
To capture rot is to embrace transience. Lighting plays a key role – soft diffused light brings out subtle textures, while directional light carves dimension. Subjects change rapidly. One day, you might see a fascinating bloom; the next, it’s gone. Decay doesn’t wait.
Rust: Time Etched in Metal
Rust is nature reclaiming what we tried to make permanent. Iron and oxygen dance slowly together, painting surfaces in flaky reds, fiery oranges, dark bruised purples. Rust spreads like frost or like lichen, in creeping maps that echo satellite imagery.
At macro scale, rusted surfaces are rich with terrain—ridges, craters, rivulets. Even a single screw head might resemble an alien planet. In the way it erodes, bubbles, flakes, and bleeds into its surroundings, rust becomes more than corrosion, it becomes artwork!
Macro photography reveals these details in striking ways. Use shallow depth of field to isolate patterns; explore angles to catch the way light clings to rusted edges. Often, what seems like a dull surface transforms into a dramatic landscape of contrast and colour under close inspection.
Ruin: Architecture in Eulogy
Decay isn’t limited to the natural world. Human-made structures decay too, and with them, the stories of those who built them. Peeling wallpaper, cracked tiles, broken window panes, all of these become powerful motifs when examined up close. The macro lens doesn’t capture entire rooms; it focuses instead on fragments that suggest an entire history.
A single rusting hinge, a charred beam, a moss-covered keyhole, these aren’t just textures. They’re symbols. Ruins don’t just show collapse; they whisper of life once lived.
In macro photography, details matter more than grand compositions. What paint is doing on the wall, how metal is warping around a screw, how spider webs weave into abandoned corners – these elements breathe character into ruin. Each image becomes a kind of archaeological sketch, small but emotionally dense.
A New Kind of Beauty
Why are we drawn to decay? In a world obsessed with gloss and filters, perhaps it’s refreshing to see something real. There’s no pretense in rot, no mask in rust. These are honest forms. They mark time’s passage without apology.
There’s also a deeper aesthetic at play. In Japanese culture, wabi-sabi celebrates the beauty of imperfection and impermanence. Macro photography of decay aligns perfectly with this. Nothing lasts forever, and when you look closely, the moment of falling apart is often where beauty peaks.
Photographing decay also invites stillness. It’s not fast photography. You wait, observe, adjust your focus millimetre by millimetre. The process is immersive, even intimate. You’re not capturing decay—you’re spending time with it.
Tips for Photographing Decay Up Close
Seek Soft Light: Overcast days or shaded windows are perfect. Hard sunlight can wash out textures; decay needs gentleness.
Get Closer Than You Think: Use a dedicated macro lens or extension tubes. A world exists at just 1:1 magnification.
Use a Tripod and Manual Focus: Depth of field becomes razor-thin. Tripods help with stability, and manual focus ensures control.
Focus Stack When Needed: Especially with rust and texture-heavy subjects, stacking multiple shots at different focus points brings out sharpness across the image.
Don’t Overstage It: While decay can be found at home (rotting fruit in a bowl, for example), allow it to stay natural. Don’t clean it up—it’s meant to be wild.
Be Safe: Some rot can release spores or unpleasant odours. Wear gloves, especially when handling mould or decomposing organic matter. Always photograph in well-ventilated spaces.
From Waste to Wonder
In the end, “Decay Diaries” is more than just a photography theme. It’s a mindset. It invites us to appreciate the cycles we often ignore. To find beauty in what fades. To treat neglect not with disdain, but with curiosity. To look at what the world discards—and give it attention, light, and presence.
Rot, rust, and ruin aren’t signs of failure. They’re part of a larger rhythm. Through the macro lens, we don’t just see the surface—we see stories, slow transformations, and the quiet elegance of time at work.
So the next time you see a flaking wall, a forgotten apple, or a rusted bolt—don’t look away. Get closer. There might be a masterpiece waiting there, quietly falling apart.
Christian Brockes’ fascination with arthropods started out as a chance encounter with one in his bathroom. Since then, he has documented many more species over the years, earning acclaim, partnerships, and an ambassadorship, for being a leading voice in macro photography as well as his creative expertise. Asian Photography had a conversation with him about techniques, patience, and purpose behind their highly stylised documentation of insect life. Excerpts:
Do you remember the first macro image you ever shot? What was it?
I started out doing portraits and business photos and had a 90mm macro lens, which I only used for its portrait capabilities. After finding a tiny jumping spider in my bathroom, I decided to use the macro lens for what it was originally intended for and was instantly fascinated by the interesting detail I was able to see in the photo – details which were hidden from the naked eye.
It sparked my interest and started my journey into the tiny world – always looking for new colours, forms, and textures.
What’s something people often misunderstand about macro photography?
To me, macro photography is like a window into that tiny world beneath our feet, which is generally and often overlooked. It is also a very powerful tool for conservation and to create attention to the world’s fascinating biodiversity.
However, macro photography is often featured less prominently in comparison to wildlife photography of bigger animals. People simply seem not to be aware of the wonderful things that are there to discover in and share from the tiny world.
Many people understand macro as only being photography at 1:1 magnification and above, but forget that also at these high magnifications there are stories to tell. Storytelling and composition can elevate macro photography even further.
Do you approach your photography more as documentation, art, or exploration?
Nowadays, I would like my macro photography to be seen as a mixture of stylised documentation. While I always emphasise on composition and also try to create a direct connection between the subject and the viewer, the thing I look for the most is the story: this can be a distinct behaviour of an insect, a hunting scene, mating, or any other interaction.
It is my wish to share my findings to create awareness and interest through these fascinating forms, colours, and features of the insects and spiders I photograph – hopefully leading to respect, which ultimately helps with conservation.
How do you balance patience and spontaneity when working with unpredictable subjects?
The trick is indeed to actually balance both: patience often rewards us with wonderful opportunities and scenes – but these happen spontaneously, so it is very important to be alert, have your setup ready and be able to control your camera blindly, when the moment comes.
I have one routine, where I stay at a promising spot for about an hour. Sometimes it is only 1 or 2 square metres. I adapted my photographic technique to align with this behaviour: I always use a flash and a diffuser, which gives me a highly mobile and compact setup and enables tack-sharp shots even during movements.
How do you see the future of macro evolving—AI, computational focus, mobile macro?
I think mobile macro is the way to go, but not necessarily with mobile phones. Smaller, real cameras, capable of reaching high magnifications while providing decent depth-of-field, would open up the field to many more people.
The Pink flower crab spider Thomisus onustus is a truly fascinating spider as it can change its color, trying to match the flowers it sits on and where it waits for prey. It can change from a plain white form to a plain yellow form and to its most spectacular pink form with stripes, which can be seen here.
The latest generation of mobile phone flagships have remarkable macro features. I use mine from time to time and the results are better than what I captured with my first camera and macro lens.
AI is far from being able to create realistic insect and spider macros – you can spot the AI-generated images easily if you’re a biologist or a naturalist.
Computational in-camera features are a big time saver. My current camera, the OM-1 Mark II, has tons of those: ND filter, graded ND filter, High-Res Shot, modes for light painting, photographing stars, and many more.
My favourites are the focus bracketing and focus stacking modes, which allow me to create a focus bracket I later combine into one image with enhanced depth-of-field. It also speeds up my process.
What are you currently experimenting with or trying to learn next?
Right now, I am pretty satisfied with both my gear and technique when it comes to macro photography of insects and spiders at high magnifications.
I’ve recently favoured single shots over focus stacks more often, as it is all about getting that one specific moment. It also saves time during post-processing.
The next thing I am currently experimenting with is filming macro at high magnifications. Creating macro movies with the same quality as my photos is challenging, as the lighting approach is very different.
Is there a specific image that you want to be remembered by?
I have two personal favourites, which are also my best known photos from publications. One is an Acorn weevil (Curculio glandium) just about to take off and spreads its wings, and the other is a zig-zag sawfly larva that has eaten its distinct zig-zag pattern into an elm leaf.
I specialise on jumping spiders, and my two favourite species, both extremely colourful – one, Habronattus americanus, is from North America and one, Stenaelurillus lesserti, can be found in southern India – would be my personal holy grail and the ultimate macro portrait.
Kristine’s journey began from a father’s influence and a curious eye grew into a deep, self-taught journey into the miniature world. She specialises in capturing flowers alongside insects, capturing and excelling at an intriguing perspective in macro photography. Asian Photography spoke to her about how macro photography shaped not just her creative process, but also her perspective on nature, patience, and purpose. Excerpts:
Were you always a photographer, or did macro come after exploring other genres?
My photography journey really started thanks to my dad. He always had a camera with him, capturing our family moments, and he was the one who put my first camera in my hands. Watching how he worked with his own, much more advanced camera, inspired me to keep learning and improving.
He also helped me choose my first DSLR. I remember the first time I tried manual mode and suddenly realised how much I still had to learn. While my dad’s guidance started me on this path, most of what I know now is self-taught through years of experimenting and making mistakes.
In the beginning, I just shared my photos on social media. I never thought much of it, but as people started to give feedback and encouragement, I realised this was something I wanted to pursue more seriously. Those early steps, the learning curve, and my dad’s support really shaped who I am as a photographer.
What’s something people often misunderstand about macro photography?
A lot of people think macro is easy. They think you just get close, and the background will blur out, and you have a nice photo. But macro photography takes much more skill and patience than most realise. Patience, precision, and observation are essential, but what really matters is the willingness to keep growing and improving.
Once I joined Instagram and saw the work of other creators, it pushed me to get more creative with my own photos. Inspiration from others has always driven me to try new things and keep evolving.
One technical challenge in macro is dealing with the shallow depth of field. You get super close, thinking you’ll capture the perfect insect photo, but only a tiny part ends up sharp. I had to learn how to balance distance, settings, and composition. For example, with insects, I try to shoot them from the front or side so more of their body is in the same focal plane. The same applies to flowers. It is not just about what is in focus, but choosing which parts are sharp to create a composition that works.
Have you had any close encounters with wildlife while shooting macro?
Most of my wildlife encounters are with insects, since they are my main subjects after flowers. I usually search for them locally, especially in the botanical garden. I have been lucky to spot and photograph many species, including different kinds of bees, damselflies, dragonflies, and even a cuckoo wasp. Seeing a cuckoo wasp for the first time was a real surprise.
Insects are often skittish, so I usually take a quick photo as soon as I spot one. Sometimes that first shot is the only one I get. There have been times when that photo ended up being the one I posted. Even if the subject is small in the frame, I do not mind cropping in a lot later.
One dream encounter I still hope for is photographing a praying mantis. I do not think they live in my area, but maybe one day, I will get lucky.
What’s the most important lesson you’ve learnt from a shoot-gone-wrong?
Preparation is key. Always check the weather forecast before heading out, especially the wind. Now, I make it a habit to check conditions and have a backup plan, such as staying home and editing the photos I have already taken.
Another important lesson is to make sure your gear is ready. With my old DSLR, the battery would drain quickly, especially in cold weather. I learned the hard way by running out of power before I was finished shooting. Now, I always carry a spare battery.
That said, sometimes you have to work with what you have. On a recent walk, it was really windy, but with enough patience, I managed to get many great insect photos. Nature can be unpredictable, so adaptability and a little patience can turn a difficult shoot into a successful one.
Are there still moments when you feel like a beginner, even after years of experience?
Absolutely. Even with experience, I still have days when nothing seems to go right. Sometimes I will come home with barely any sharp photos, or enough sharp photos of which none feel special or worth sharing. That is perfectly normal. I have learned that those ups and downs are just part of the creative process.
I am always discovering new techniques, often from other creators. I used to think you could only share single photos, until I learned about focus stacking. Now, I sometimes shoot multiple images and combine them for a fully sharp subject with a beautiful background. Learning new things like this keeps me feeling inspired.
Can you describe a time you had to really “earn” the photo?
Most of my photo walks are unplanned. But the photos that feel truly earned are the ones where I put in extra effort.
One photo that stands out is a dewdrop-covered cobweb during a foggy sunrise. I had to wake up at 5 AM, which is not easy for me, and drive to a bog trail. That morning, everything came together perfectly. There was thick fog, a golden sunrise, and more sparkling cobwebs than I had ever seen. I spent a long time looking for the best-looking webs and waiting for the light to be just right. When I finally got the shot, it felt incredibly rewarding.
Has macro photography influenced how you see life, outside of photography?
Definitely. Macro photography has made me much more observant and appreciative of the little things in life. Now I notice details everywhere, like tiny flowers, insects most people walk past, even the way light hits a leaf.
Getting into macro has also changed the way I relate to nature. I used to be pretty neutral about insects, but now I am much more considerate and careful around them. I even find myself moving snails or bugs off walking paths.
It has also inspired me to share what I know with others. I started a community where I share tips and tutorials. Teaching others, seeing them inspired by my work, and watching them grow brings me a lot of joy. Macro photography has helped me connect with a community and give back in a way I never expected.
