ISO
400
Control the camera, watch the picture full-screen, file every take into the day's shoot, cut and grade the footage, and treat the stills — all in one window, with finished files ready to go wherever you post them.
The sidebar keeps the whole job in view from wherever you are — REC while a take is rolling, an import's count — with battery, card space and shots remaining along its foot. It collapses when you want the picture to have the window.
One USB cable carries the picture and the controls at once. Everything you'd set on the body, you set here — with a monitor the size of your screen. And when the body is in the wrong USB mode, the app names the one to switch to — and the very first launch shows you where that setting lives on the camera. Focus and zoom are yours from the desk too: click the picture, drag a slider, hold a button. Reconnect straight after an unplug and it waits out the half-minute the camera needs to come back, rather than reporting a fault that isn't there.
ISO, shutter, aperture and white balance, read live from the camera — the options are the values your body actually supports, not a generic list. Exposure compensation is a ticked scale you read like a light meter.
Edge highlighting with adjustable sensitivity, and a live luma histogram over the picture. Know it's sharp and exposed before you roll, not after.
Zoom to 8× into the live picture and drag around it. The most-asked question in a tethered session is "is the eye sharp?" — a picture scaled to fit a pane can't answer that. This can.
Rule-of-thirds grid, plus crop guides for 16:9, vertical, square and scope — so the Reels crop is decided while the subject is still in the room, not in the edit.
Codec, frame rate, bitrate, chroma sampling, ticking SMPTE timecode, card time remaining per slot, shooting mode, focus state, lens and battery — read live down the right-hand side, plus the tether's own frame rate and dropped-frame count, so you can see the link keeping up. A figure the camera didn't report is left blank, never invented.
Send the take to the camera's card, or record the feed straight to a folder on your Mac — with the Mac's microphone if you want it, and a live level meter so you can set sound before rolling. Files are named by date and time, so they sort themselves.
Press the shutter — on screen or on the body — and the photo lands on the Mac and fills the screen, RAW included. Choose card, Mac, or both; the shot count and filename are right there, with a Reveal button.
One keypress during a take drops a timestamped mark — no dialog, because stopping to name a mark mid-take costs the take. Afterwards the Library counts them on every clip, the Player jumps to them, and the Editor steps between them.
Name the job, and every take, still and mark from then on files itself into one folder of that name. A shoot is its folder — no database, nothing to export. At the end of the day, you hand over a folder.
Your script scrolls over the top of the picture — on the screen that's already next to the lens — big enough to read from where you stand. It rolls when you press Record and pauses when you stop, so every take starts from the line you're on, not from the top. It never appears in the recording.
One key after Stop plays a take recorded onto the Mac back where the live picture was, with your marks one click away. Keep it, or junk it while the shot is still fresh — junking moves the take aside and never deletes it, so a wrong call costs nothing.
Put the dial on S&Q and the rail says what you're really getting — capture rate, playback rate, and the factor: 120fps → 24p · 5× slow. Set for quick motion, it says that instead. No mental arithmetic between takes, and no discovering in the edit that the dial was on the wrong speed.
A timer beside the shutter button: a photo every few seconds, hands off — sunsets, builds, long light. Each tick presses the shutter exactly like you would, so the destination and settings you chose all hold. Pair it with the Player's time-lapse assembler and the movie is one click more.
A countdown before the take rolls or the shutter fires — 3, 5 or 10 seconds, in big white figures over the picture, so you can read it from the far side of the lens. White, not red: nothing is recording yet. Press again or hit Esc to call it off; Stop is always instant.
Diagonal stripes over any part of the picture about to blow out to white. The histogram tells you that something is clipping; zebras show you where — on the forehead, the window, the white shirt — while there's still time to stop down.
Click anywhere on the live picture and the camera focuses there — the body switches to single-shot AF, puts its spot on the point you chose, and pulls. A green square marks the click. For the person alone in front of the lens, this is the feature every other tethering app has and the one that matters most.
A focus slider and NEAR / FAR steps, with the lens's position read back from the body; and on a power-zoom lens, hold W or T and it zooms until you let go, the focal length in millimetres beside it. Both go quiet, with a sentence, when the camera won't take them — a lens on AF, a lens with no motor.
Lay a picture over the live view at whatever strength you like — a pose to match, a product's place on the table, yesterday's framing. Load any image, or use the last still the camera sent, which lines up exactly. It zooms and pans with the punch-in, and it's still there tomorrow.
The picture painted by exposure, the way a field monitor does it: an 18% grey card lands green, lit skin pink, clipping red, with a legend along the foot. The histogram says that something's off; this says what, and where.
Put a .cube LUT on the live view — the Photo bench's own library, or load one here — so S-Log looks the way it will grade while you're still shooting. The recording is never touched, and the exposure tools keep reading the plain picture underneath.
Start Recording, Stop Recording, Take Photo, Mark This Moment and Connect Camera are Shortcuts actions — so Siri takes them, and so does a Stream Deck, a macro app or the Watch. Each one presses the app's own button, and when it can't, it says why in a sentence.
Card nearly full, disk nearly full, battery about to go, sound clipping or barely audible — measured all the time. Anything that would end a take early is already in red next to the record button before you press it; the rest surfaces over the picture only while a take is running, which is the only moment it matters. Nothing appears when nothing is wrong.
The still format — RAW, JPEG, size, quality — is on screen, read live from the camera. With a warning when the body is set to write no raw file at all: a camera left on JPEG after a holiday, carried into a paid shoot, is the mistake this exists to catch.
Save the exposure you've dialled in — interview, product table, golden hour — under a name, and set the camera back to it in one click next time. Anything the body refuses (a dial in the wrong mode) is named, not skipped silently.
Shooting slow & quick, the recording badge counts both clocks — time elapsed, and how long it will really play. Set for 5× slow, a 12-second take reads as the minute it will become.
Flip one switch in Settings and the app connects the moment your Sony appears on USB — no clicking Connect at the start of every session. Off by default, and it never interrupts a session already running.
Plug a card in and it appears. Everything the Mac recorded is already there. Browse it all the same way — thumbnails, Quick Look, and an import that organises itself.
Removable cards are detected as they're plugged in, scanned through Sony's own folder layout, and shown with a capacity bar. Anything else — a folder on a drive, an already-copied shoot — opens the same way.
Everything recorded or tethered onto the Mac sits at the top of the list and browses exactly like a card — same grid, same Quick Look, same import. Shoots are listed as jobs.
A thumbnail grid that fills in as the scan runs, badges for duration, resolution and size, Quick Look on any clip with arrow keys through the whole card, and sorting that knows C2 comes before C10.
Copy selected clips or the whole card into one folder, by date, by type, or by date then type — with an example path shown before you commit. Dates are laid out so they sort in every region.
Already-imported clips are skipped, checked inside the destination folder itself — so re-running yesterday's import only brings over what's new.
Right-click a clip: open it in the Player to watch, on the Editor's bench to cut, or export a copy wherever you like. Photos open on the Photo bench instead. The original never moves.
Type a few letters and the grid narrows as you type; filter to just videos or just photos. When a filter hides everything, the app says so — and shows the way back — instead of drawing an empty card.
Flag the keeper from the replay, the Player or a right-click, and the grid can sort your ★ takes to the top — with your ⌘M mark counts drawn on every cell. The day's notes, visible where the footage is.
One clip, one big timeline, three moves — trim the ends, split at the playhead, remove what you don't want. Then treat what's left. What plays in the preview is exactly the file that exports; the footage on your disk is never touched.
Drag the ends in like QuickTime, split under the playhead with one key, remove the piece you don't want. Restoring a piece heals the timeline — no scar lines, no track soup. Every move is undoable in words, not just ⌘Z.
Every clip's whole edit — the cut and the treatment — is remembered between launches, and follows an imported copy of the footage by name. Close the lid mid-edit; it's there in the morning.
Slow a piece down, speed one up, or punch into the frame for the second-camera look — per piece, right on the timeline. The fake cut that saves a real second body.
Put words on the picture — they stay put however the cut changes underneath them. Fade in from black, out to black, and join pieces with a crossfade or a dip. The fades end on black, pixel-checked.
Brightness, contrast, saturation, warmth — applied live as the sliders move, saved with the edit. Name a grade once and apply it to every take of the channel. Presets are honest: click WARM, open the sliders, and there it is.
An export with no treatment copies bytes — seconds, and nothing lost. Only a treatment that must be baked in re-encodes, and the app tells you which happened. Storyboard several clips and export them as one movie, or save every kept piece as its own numbered file with one button.
Tethered shots land on the Mac — now finish them there. Light, colour, grading wheels and a tone curve, with the shoot on a filmstrip underneath. The preview renders through the exact code the export runs, so what you see is what you get — literally.
Double-click any photo in the Library and it opens on the bench — .ARW through the real raw decode, not the embedded preview. Walk the whole shoot with ⌘← ⌘→, your ★ good takes starred on the strip.
Exposure, contrast, highlights, shadows; warmth, tint, vibrance, saturation. Every slider works in both directions — and every direction is proven by a test that reads the pixels, not the label.
Push the shadows, midtones and highlights toward different colours — the three-way grade from the colourist's desk, built the Resolve way. Three wheels cost one pixel lookup; a 26MP file stays smooth under the sliders.
Save a grade as a Look, tick the photos on the strip — or tick every ★ good take with one button — and paste it onto all of them. Then export the lot, each with its own edit baked in, into one folder.
Press and hold to see the photo as shot; release to see your treatment. Undo steps back one intention at a time — a slider drag is one step, not sixty — and Start Over forgets the edit, undoably.
Export JPEG or HEIF at full resolution. An untouched photo is copied byte for byte, metadata and all. A failed export can never destroy the file that was already there, and the original is never modified. Ever.
Click the line to add a point, drag it anywhere, with the photo's histogram behind it — on all channels together or red, green and blue apiece. The line stays smooth through every point and never folds back on itself, so tones can't reverse. The line you see is the one the pixels get.
Load any 3D LUT in the .cube format — the kind grading tools export and camera makers publish — and it becomes a look you can apply in one click, with a Strength slider to blend it back toward the untouched photo. It goes on last, where a creative LUT belongs in a grade.
Not a preview thumbnail. Step through the day's takes, check focus frame by frame, hear whether the mic was on — and send anything worth keeping straight to the Editor.
Right-click any clip in the Library and it opens full size, with the rest of the day riding along in a list beside it. One key steps to the next take, and a finished clip flows straight into the one after.
Pause and step a single frame — is the eye sharp? — or skim a long take at 2×. Loop one moment while you make your mind up about it.
Marking used to need a rolling take. Now drop marks on any clip while you watch — old footage, card footage — and they count exactly like the ones made live: chips in the Player, jumps in the Editor, frames on the contact sheet.
Watching turns into editing without a hunt: one button hands the clip — playhead and all — to the Editor. Cuts you made before the Editor existed come along too; nothing you'd already decided is forgotten.
The clip's sound is drawn as a strip the moment it opens. Dead silence gets called out in orange before you've played a single second — the check that saves a re-shoot.
Save the exact frame you're paused on as a full-resolution image — the frame, not the nearest one the file finds convenient. Or make a contact sheet: one image, a grid of the clip's marked moments, each stamped with its time. Thumbnails, sorted.
Point it at a folder of stills — an interval-shooting run — pick a frame rate, and it becomes a movie, one still per frame, in shooting order. The result opens right back in the Player.
Tether Remote, a companion iPhone app, puts the camera controls on your phone. The camera stays on the Mac's cable and the Mac does the work — the phone just talks to it over your own Wi-Fi. Walk away from the desk and the shoot comes with you.
The camera's live picture on your phone, with battery, lens, mode, recording format and the exposure settings beside it — the same figures the Mac shows, because they're the Mac's.
Record, stop, fire the shutter and change settings from wherever you're standing. Each press is the Mac's own button, so the camera's answer is what both screens show.
Nothing listens for a phone until you switch it on in Settings, and a phone needs the six-digit code the Mac shows to join. It all stays on your own network, and disconnecting the phone never interrupts the Mac's session.
A figure the camera didn't report is left blank, never invented. No 100% battery that isn't real, no made-up shot count, no bar drawn without a denominator. Blank means "not reported" — everywhere.
One colour is reserved for one meaning. If something on screen is red, a recording is at stake — nothing else in the app is allowed to borrow it.
No library format, no database, no export step. Rename the folder in the Finder and you've renamed the shoot. The thing you hand over at the end of the day is the thing the app was keeping all along.
No analytics, no account with us, no server of ours anywhere — the app never phones home, because there's no home to phone. Nothing is ever uploaded by the app — your footage stays on your Mac until you decide where it goes. The whole privacy policy fits on one screen.