Photographer Jillian Lenser with models and crew, capturing BTS on a fashion shoot (crew credits at end of article)
The Sigma BF camera has become my unexpected companion on set. When I normally juggle multiple cameras for different casual use cases, this chic aluminum unibody camera now efficiently handles all of my behind-the-scenes needs.
The Sigma BF is not just easy to use, it’s visually striking, perfect for use in a studio or on set.
At its core is a 24.6 megapixel full-frame sensor delivering files crisp enough to blend seamlessly with my main camera’s output when needed. Its video capabilities are surprisingly high-quality for such a compact body: 6K at 30fps for primary footage and 120fps in Full HD when you need that slow-motion moment. It won’t replace dedicated cinema gear, but it exceeds expectations for quick clips and social content.
The 230GB internal storage might be my favorite practical feature. Say goodbye to that sinking feeling when you realize you’ve left your cards at home. When the day wraps, one USB-C cable handles both file transfers and recharging — a small but meaningful workflow improvement. No more juggling multiple memory cards and card readers.
Simple and intuitive, with a fast workflow (and no accessories and attachments to lose).
Sigma embraces minimalism with the streamlined menu, shutter button, a single dial, and just a handful of essential buttons. The uncluttered screen allows for thoughtful and accurate composition. For lower lift shoots, I typically offer a second camera to an assistant to snap some BTS. The simple interface of the BF means they catch on fast, letting me focus on the main project.
With no viewfinder or tilt/swivel screen, the fixed LCD screen initially threw me off. But what seemed like a limitation actually became liberating as it forced me to break my usual patterns and discover new perspectives. This disruption to my workflow pushed me to engage with subjects more intentionally, something that’s easy to lose when you’re operating on photographer autopilot. It’s definitely not for everyone, but this constraint ultimately refreshed my own creative approach.
The Sigma BF — beautiful from all angles and easy for anyone to pick up and use.
As an L-Mount camera, the BF plays nicely with lenses from Sigma, Leica, and Panasonic. I’ve been pairing it with a classic 50mm prime for straightforward BTS work, but Sigma’s variety of zoom lenses provide versatility when capturing wider sets or working in a smaller studio.
Battery life typically handles a full day of stills, though heavy video recording will drain it faster. The ability to charge via fast USB-C keeps things moving when I’m recording extensively.
A few standouts from the 13 color modes available are Standard, Rich, Teal & Orange, and Monochrome. The color modes offer creative options you can quickly cycle through to customize each photo without post-processing. I generally stick with the Rich color mode which warms up the image without drastically distorting colors, but having all of the alternatives helps match any specific mood or lighting situation.
The simplicity and design are the obvious standouts of the BF, but arguably more importantly is how this camera facilitates human connection. Its distinctive design sparks conversations, and its approachable interface encourages others on set to pick it up and capture moments themselves. This collaborative aspect creates more authentic behind-the-scenes content than I could manage alone.
In an industry where content deliverables now often include BTS video or social-friendly extras, having a camera like the BF feels less like a luxury and more like a smart adaptation. It seamlessly transitioned from being just a tool on set to becoming the camera I reach for in my personal life too. It’s so effortless to use that I find myself grabbing it for weekend walks, dinners with friends, or travel moments I used to leave undocumented.
It’s rare for a camera to feel equally at home in both work and life, but the Sigma BF has genuinely brought back the simple joy of photography for me. No overthinking settings, no menu diving… just seeing, composing, and shooting. It reminded me why I fell in love with photography in the first place.
This camera won’t replace your professional level gear, or those needing dual card slots or built-in viewfinders, because it’s not supposed to.
What it offers instead is something increasingly rare: photography stripped back to its essence of seeing and capturing, consistently delivering beautiful results.
Heidi: As a photographer and former mentor with Roam Media Core, what are your hopes for emerging femme creators working in outdoor photography? Anne: I started shooting photos in the bike industry in 2004. At the time, there was literally like one other woman shooting bikes. While I definitely felt supported by some of my male peers, I never had the experience of someone holding my hand and guiding me through the awkward first steps, or second steps, or third, etc. I didn’t even know that might have been a helpful thing to ask for. My experience last year as a mentor, and my hope for this year, is that we can create a safe space for that stumbling to happen, and for those hesitant questions to be asked. I think the experience of gaining entry is fairly universal. If this program helps provide any sort of guidance on how one builds a career in the outdoor world and hands over a few tools along the way, that sounds like success to me. It’s clear the industry needs more women behind the lens. The statistic I’ve heard is that in the world of action sports photography, participation hovers around 15%. That’s pretty low, so anything that can help reduce those barriers is a good thing.
Andi Zolton bleeds a set of bike brakes in her garage and is one of only two US based women who wrench professionally on the MTB race circuit, and in her spare time co-operates the Roam women’s bike fest, and fixes stuff on her friend’s bikes
How do the mentor and mentee relationships work? The program brings on six experienced mentors. This year we have four photo mentors and two video mentors, each paired with a mentee. Applications opened in early May, and we had over 120 people apply, which to me speaks to the need for programming like this. The idea behind selecting mentees was to find folks with a solid foundation of skills who were career-focused and genuinely interested in working in the outdoor industry. This isn’t a beginner program, and it’s not meant for someone who just wants to learn how to shoot bikes. We wanted this to feel like a valuable experience for both mentees and mentors, like the mentors could be instrumental in providing guidance that may help further someone’s career objectives. The mentor and mentee teams begin virtual work about three months before Roam Fest. They spend that time getting to know each other, talking about goals, career ambitions, and building some trust. Then, each team is paired with two outdoor brands and works virtually with the brand’s marketing team to develop guidelines for a shoot. The program all comes together at Roam Fest, where everyone gathers in person to execute a series of brand product and athlete shoots.
Have mentees developed brand relationships as well as community support? Yes, that’s absolutely the goal. The hope is that mentees can develop relationships with brands that show up at Roam Fest, and that some of those turn into long-term work. Community support happens a little more naturally, through time spent with their cohorts and mentors. Each mentee gets paired with one mentor, but much of the festival time is spent as a full group, which gives everyone the chance to learn from each other. Last year, that group dynamic ended up being one of the most impactful parts for both mentees and mentors.
You’ve been based in Fruita, CO, a trail-centric town, since 2002. How has living there shaped your photography projects and creative aspirations? Well, for one thing, it’s forced me to spend a lot of early mornings or late evenings out on the trail, because our lovely desert environment looks flat and shitty in mid-day light… haha. Fruita and the greater Grand Valley are unique-looking places, and I think that’s been helpful from a visual standpoint. There’s a whole swath of the country that, while beautiful, starts to look pretty similar from one location to the next. The desert southwest is a far cry from that. Our landscape is distinct, and while it comes with some lighting challenges, it’s also a fun place to shoot. Nothing else really looks like it. From a brand and media standpoint, the Grand Valley’s also a great location. It’s a good spot to product test, there’s a range of trails, and it’s gotten a decent amount of media attention. While travel is always possible, it’s nice when your backyard is already on the radar and is a desirable place for brands to visit.
You helped build Fruita’s sense of community through Hot Tomato Pizza. Now as a photographer, how do you use your photography in building community? That’s a great question, and maybe one I haven’t given a ton of thought to. But I think there’s something to be said about how much community already exists in the cycling world. It’s honestly one of my favorite things about the sport. It’s so common for surface connections to turn into friendships, just from time spent on bikes. Most of my favorite people have come into my life that way, and the way those threads weave through other circles is kind of amazing. While there might be six degrees of separation between us and Kevin Bacon, I’d argue it’s only one or two degrees between most people in the mountain bike world. So maybe it’s less about building community with a camera, and more about celebrating the community that already exists.
What do running a crankin’ pizza business, developing a fiercely loyal MTB community, and photography have in common? Well, for starters, I no longer smell like garlic every day or fall asleep with dried flour crusties in my eyes, so that’s a plus. I don’t know that we were responsible for developing the MTB community. It was on its way. But I can definitely speak to the connection between running a business and being a photographer. The outside view is always the fun stuff. That’s about 10 percent of either job. It’s invigorating to be behind the bar pouring beers and laughing with your customer friends, just like it’s fun to be out in the woods behind the camera on a shoot. But that’s such a small percentage of the work. The rest is the grunt stuff. And I think being able to accept and embrace that part might be what separates the romantics from the realists. I loved making pizzas. I love shooting photos. But I’m pretty indifferent about staring at my computer editing for hours, entering invoices in QuickBooks, cutting onions, or washing dishes. The behind-the-scenes is rarely glamorous, and also where the majority of the work happens. It might sound cooler to talk about the passion behind both things, but I try not to. Both the food and creative industries are passion-driven, and I’ve seen a lot of people dive in because of that. But I’ve also seen a lot of those efforts fail, because the reality of running a business is about a lot more than being passionate. It’s a lot of muck, and I’d rather help people be ready for that than glorify it. So maybe the commonality is to be passionate, but be even better at the mundane.
The Patagonia film Life of Pie features your story. What was it like seeing your entrepreneurial success translated into film? Oh gosh, it was a wild ride. While the film had premiered at a few smaller festivals before the bigger outdoor ones, 5Point in Carbondale was the first one that really felt like a launch. We were packed into an auditorium with over a thousand people, all laughing at the same scenes, cheering at others. When the film ended, people stood up clapping, cheering, stomping. It was so loud. That moment was probably the first time I actually felt the gravity of our story being told in that way. We never thought much about our success from an outside perspective. We were just in it, running the business. I think that’s true for most small business owners. You’re just doing the thing, not stepping back and thinking about the bigger picture. There was never any meta-level cognition about trying to ‘create something.’ But seeing that response was like holding up a mirror. It made the community impact feel very real.
You mentioned loving rides “headed toward disaster but not quite tipping over.” How does that sense of edge translate into your photo work? Yes, I totally love Type 2 fun. How does that show up in photo work? The other day, I was crouched so close into the trail corridor that my friend clipped my helmet with his handlebar as he passed. Thankfully I had the helmet on. I’ve been hit by pedals, handlebars, crashed with packs full of camera gear, been caught in hailstorms, had to light fires to stay warm, been stuck out in the dark, destroyed lenses, soaked cameras in rainstorms or at stream crossings, etc I really believe that the best action sports photographers actually do the sports themselves, usually at a higher level. I think you kind of have to, in order to access those special places and know what to do once you get there. Mother Nature isn’t always cooperative, and the same sort of experience you’d have on a big adventure ride is often what happens on a remote shoot. Give me someone suffering up a rain-soaked, muddy hike-a-bike any day. That’s where the emotion shows up. Even if it’s not pretty.
I had the pleasure of serving on the 2025 Communication Arts Photography Competition jury—a fantastic opportunity to step outside my usual discipline and review photography alongside my esteemed peers. One standout moment was discovering Sacha Stej Sacha, an Auckland-based photographer represented by Image Driven Content.Her accolades include being named one of the top 200 advertising photographers globally by Lürzer’s Archive and being recognized as one of the 23 World’s Best Sport Photographers by The Agents Club in 2023. I recently had the pleasure of catching up with Sacha to discuss her award-winning image.
Your photography is known for its cinematic and powerful portrayal of women—what are the key elements you look for when capturing intensity and resilience in your subjects? When I’m gearing up to capture my subjects, there are a few key elements I always keep in mind. First and foremost, getting to know my subjects is essential. I want to know what shapes who they are. Before the shoot and even during it, I dive into conversations that reveal what makes them tick.
Once I have a sense of them, I try matching their emotional tone; if they’re fiery and passionate, I want that to jump off the frame. I aim to include a piece of who they are in every shot, whether it’s a glimmer in their eye or the way they hold themselves. I strive to create an image they can recognize, one that resonates with their energy. It’s all about connection, and that’s what I love most about photography: being able to freeze a slice of someone’s narrative, a moment of resilience and intensity, in time.
In your “Girls in Sports” campaign for 2 Degrees, you highlighted both strength and vulnerability in your subject. Can you talk about how the casting went and what direction you gave? This campaign was shot alongside a TVC, and the fantastic Director Taylor Ferguson did the casting. When I met these young women I could see that they radiated talent and spirit. For this brief, I wanted to capture that passion and grit. They don’t just play the game—they own it. I love the dichotomy between their sweet appearances and the fierce determination they display on the field – there is nothing more badass than seeing these girls in their element. Take the rugby girl, for instance. I asked her to sprint full speed towards the camera, like she was dodging the opposing team. In that moment, she transformed into a powerhouse charging at me like a freight train, the fire in her belly blazing as she zoomed closer. It was exactly the energy we were after.
How do you balance storytelling with advocacy in your visual work, particularly around gender representation? Women in sports face a harsh reality—they often get overshadowed, and it’s disheartening to see that women’s sports internationally don’t get the same spotlight as men’s. That’s why campaigns like this are so crucial; encouraging fans—especially from a young age—to rally behind these amazing athletes.
In my visual work, I find that storytelling and advocacy naturally go hand in hand—probably without me even realizing it. As a woman photographer, I’m drawn to capturing fierce, strong women because I know just how powerful we can be. In a society that often tries to box us in or undermine our strength, it’s crucial to keep that fire alive. That passion burns even brighter as a mother to a spirited young daughter. I want her to see women as capable and unafraid, sensitive and kind, just like the women I photograph.
How do you ensure your images challenge traditional portrayals, particularly of femininity and athleticism, while still maintaining authenticity and emotional depth? I’m usually guided by how I want the image to feel, especially when it comes to capturing femininity and athleticism. My images become a deep dive into an energy that connects the viewer to the subject. I want to create an atmosphere where the audience feels confronted, pulled into the frame, and unable to look away.
I find authenticity through genuine human connections, digging beyond the surface, whether I’m photographing a seasoned athlete or someone new to the sport. There’s something superhuman about athletes; they possess more than just physical strength; they embody resilience and discipline. There’s a profound sacrifice that comes with striving for excellence, and that narrative fascinates me. Each image I capture is a testament to that journey—an exploration of what it truly means to balance vulnerability and power.
Can you talk about the role visual media plays in shifting public perception and promoting equity, especially in underrepresented communities and activist movements? Photography holds a unique power in shaping public perception and promoting equity. As a visual person myself, I’ve always felt that a single image can convey emotions and stories far more effectively than words ever could. It’s the raw authenticity of a photograph that can resonate with someone’s heart, breaking down barriers and connecting us all on a fundamental level.
Through the lens of a camera, we can reveal the complexities of human nature and amplify voices that often go unheard. In this visual storytelling landscape, images become tools for change, not just documenting reality but actively reshaping how we view each other. Ultimately, photography fosters a shared humanity that can inspire action and fight against injustice. They remind us that, at our core, we are all just humans with similar desires for love, acceptance, and dignity.
This week I wanted to share the story behind one of my favorite recent landscape photographs, Wonder. It was quite a cold morning. When I woke up, I saw the mist rise, so I headed out. I went around the nearby places and saw the mist rising on the lake. I had been waiting for the perfect shot of this majestic tree I had been photographing for years. I never was able to capture its full glory until that day.
As the sun began to rise, the frost-covered branches were illuminated by the cold morning light, creating an eerie and magical effect with a wonderful blue sky. One of those moments which reminds me why I do what I do. The feeling of being out in the cold, surrounded by the beauty of nature, is when I feel most alive.
If you look closely at the photo, you’ll notice that it’s not just one tree but two tangled together. This adds another layer of wonder and magic to the scene, making it even more special. It’s like something out of a movie, and moments like these make me grateful to be a photographer.
I used a low angle to go near the smooth snow and get the perspective without distracting background elements. I love the frost on the tree and how the snow looks crisp yet smooth simultaneously.