As a working photographer, I am very discerning about the tools I use. It should, then, be of no surprise that I am equally fussy about photography books that I consider as essential reading, because I have as much learning to do as the next person and I certainly do not wish to waste time with books that tell me what I already know.

Pop into any decent bookstore and you can surely find a book for just about any photography subject you are interested in. The problem with having such a myriad selection of titles is trying to separate the wheat from the chaff, since the gamut runs from those that are atrociously written or irrelevant to the informative ones.

The general rule of thumb I adopt in picking a book that is worthy to go on my bookshelf is this: if I pick up a title and, upon browsing, learn five things I do not already know about, I’m definitely taking it home.

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Yesterday, at Kinokuniya, I chanced upon Light—Science & Magic: An Introduction to Photographic Lighting (3rd ed.) by Fil Hunter, Steven Biver, and Paul Fuqua. I tucked it into my arm within a minute’s worth of browsing, for two reasons namely.

Firstly: because it is a title by Focal Press. I am self-taught, in both photography and filmmaking, the latter of which is my full-time profession. And I can say unequivocally that the only film school I have ever attended was the school of Focal Press books. It is for this reason that I pay attention each time Focal Press releases a new title.

Secondly: because Chapter One of this book goes like this (emphasis in bold my own):

Light—Science & Magic is a discussion, not a lecture. You bring to this discussion your own opinions about art, beauty, and aesthetics. We do not intend to change those opinions and may not even influence them very much. We will be more bored than flattered if reading this book causes you to make pictures that look like ours. For better or worse, you have to build your own pictures on your own vision.

What we do offer is a set of tools. This book is about technology. Science. Brass tacks. Information for you to use when you please, if you please, and how you please. This does not mean that this book is not about ideas, because it is. The basic tools of lighting are principles, not hardware. Shakespeare’s tool was the Elizabeth English language, not a quill pen. A photographer without mastery of lighting is like a Shakespeare who could speak only the language of the people in the Globe Theatre pit.

“The basic tools of lighting are principles, not hardware.” Reading this singular line was all that it took for me to know that this is going to be a worthy read.

Photography these days—for both the professional and the amateur—has become more of a pursuit of equipment and specs than art. Every other photography periodical, forum and website talk more about megapixels than approach and intent. Shutterbugs fret over why they should get this camera body over that one, or this lens over that lens. To that end, you are neither a photographer if you do not know your f-stops nor a professional if you are compounded by a problem you do not know how to solve. Should we not be fretting about our knowledge of the craft instead?

I was taught—and I believe in learning—the old school way. Fundamentals first, technique and style later. In the early days of my career, I took to heart something my mentor said to me: “Know your fundamentals and the rest will follow.”

Which is an ideology mirrored at the end of Chapter One:

Q: What is the “magic” part of this book?

A: Learn about the light and the science. The magic will happen.

Excuse me while I go learn something new now…