Pinhole photography is associated with paper, chemistry and long analogue exposures, but the process comes down to one thing, a hole that replaces the lens, and nothing stops you placing that hole in front of a digital sensor. If you already own a DSLR or a mirrorless camera, you have what you need to get a taste of the pinhole look with no baths and no darkroom, by replacing the lens with a drilled cap. This page explains how to turn a digital camera into a pinhole camera with a drilled cap, then how to set up the shot.
In short, in 7 steps:
- Choose a body cap that fits your camera's mount, either ready-drilled or to drill yourself
- Drill a hole of five to ten millimetres in the centre of the cap
- On the inside, glue a square of thin aluminium pierced with a needle and deburred
- Screw or clip the cap on in place of the lens
- Switch the camera to manual mode, without trying to focus
- Set the camera on a tripod and release the shutter with the self-timer or a remote control
- Adjust the exposure and ISO by reading the screen and the histogram
It is a convenient way in, giving the softness and depth of field of the process with the comfort of an instant preview. If the principle of the hole still needs clarifying, the complete guide to pinhole photography lays the foundations.
The pinhole principle on a digital camera body
An interchangeable-lens camera, DSLR or mirrorless, exposes its sensor as soon as the lens is removed. In its place, you screw or clip on a body cap drilled with a pinhole, and light then reaches the sensor only through this tiny hole, exactly as it would reach the paper at the back of a box.
The sensor then plays the role of the sensitive surface and records the image projected by the hole, with the enveloping blur that is the signature of the process, except that the result appears on the screen instead of lying dormant in an emulsion. Everything depends on the distance between the hole and the sensor, which acts as the focal length and determines the framing: short on a camera body, giving a fairly wide field of view.
The sensor replaces the paper: light reaches it only through the hole in the drilled cap.
Drill a cap or buy one ready-drilled
Two paths lead to the same result, and the choice depends mainly on how much you enjoy tinkering.
The easier option is to buy a ready-drilled cap, sold for your brand's mount, with a clean, calibrated hole. It is the reliable route, with no risk to the sensor and no trial and error, and it costs a few euros.
The other path, more in the spirit of pinhole photography, is to drill an ordinary body cap. You drill a hole of five to ten millimetres in its centre, then glue over it, on the inside, a small square of thin aluminium pierced with the actual pinhole using a needle and deburred with sandpaper. The technique is the same as for a box, detailed in how to make a pinhole camera, and the logic of pinhole diameter applies in exactly the same way, a smaller hole giving a sharper but darker image.

Digital pinhole settings for long exposures
Without a lens, the camera no longer measures the aperture and no longer focuses, which means switching to manual control and thinking differently.
The camera must be in manual mode, because the automatic settings cannot work without a lens. Focus cannot be adjusted either, since the pinhole renders the whole field with the same approximation, from the foreground to the horizon.
The hole lets in very little light, the equivalent of a tiny aperture, which calls for long exposures, from a fraction of a second in full sun to several seconds indoors. A tripod soon becomes essential, and the self-timer or a remote control avoids camera shake when releasing the shutter.
As for sensitivity, you raise the ISO to shorten the exposure when light is lacking, accepting a little noise, or keep it low for a cleaner image. The screen and the histogram tell you straight away whether the exposure works, and that is the great comfort of digital: you correct and start again without wasting anything.
What the sensor really gives you
The image keeps the characteristic softness of the pinhole, the slight blur that envelops the whole scene, and that almost infinite depth of field where nothing is truly sharp but everything holds together on the same plane. On this point, the sensor faithfully reproduces what the hole projects.
You also find the relationship to time that is specific to the process, since the long exposure stretches movement, smooths water and makes passers-by melt away. It really is pinhole photography, with its slow tempo.
What you do not get is film grain and the texture of paper. The sensor has its own signature, smoother, and the element of chemical chance disappears in favour of a more predictable result. The look is close, but the skin of the image is not the same.

The limits of pinhole photography on a digital camera
The main drawback is dust on the sensor. With the body open and no lens to protect it, the sensor is exposed to particles, and the slightest speck shows all the more because the hole renders the whole field evenly.
The act of developing also disappears, the moment when the image emerges before your eyes in the bath. You get a file, not a print you made yourself, and the instant preview takes away some of the waiting and surprise of the process. This is neither a flaw nor an advantage, just a different relationship with the image, which the pinhole versus digital comparison details for those torn between the two worlds.
Who is digital pinhole photography a good starting point for?
This approach suits anyone who already owns a DSLR or a mirrorless camera and wants to try pinhole photography without investing in chemistry or tackling paper straight away. You discover the look, learn to think in terms of long exposures and manual mode, and see straight away whether the way the process sees things speaks to you.
It is also good ground for practising how to estimate light, with the instant preview giving direct feedback where analogue makes you wait for the print. The logic remains that of pinhole exposure time, but you test it without using anything up.
That said, digital pinhole photography does not replace the full analogue experience, the one where you load the paper under red light, wait without seeing anything, and then the image emerges in the developer. To experience this whole chain, the Sténoflex kit brings together in one box the pinhole camera, photographic paper, the liquid concentrated developer and fixer in two bottles of 15 ml each, the red safelight filter and the exposure guide card. Designed in France in 2009 for beginners, it is the tool we use in workshops to get a first photo made in a single session.
The drilled body cap and the kit are not in opposition: one gives you a taste of the look without chemistry, the other lets you experience the process from start to finish, and many people start with the first before moving on to the second.
Éric Marais — Photographer, author of two books on pinhole photography (published by Pearson) and creator of the Sténoflex. Since the very beginning, he has run introductory workshops in pinhole photography and analogue developing.


