Caring about validation can feel like weakness, especially in creative work. But when you’re learning photography, ignoring feedback can freeze your progress. Skill grows through friction, through seeing what others see in your images and understanding why something works or doesn’t. Confidence without calibration just becomes delusion, and the camera won’t forgive it.
Coming to you from Pat Kay, this sharp video unpacks the myth that “real” photographers don’t care what others think. Kay takes aim at a common piece of advice: that you should stop seeking external validation and shoot only for yourself. He argues that’s not just unhelpful; it’s harmful when you’re still learning. Validation, he says, isn’t about ego. It’s how you confirm that what you’re learning is correct. Feedback reveals whether your technique, composition, and editing choices are effective, not just emotionally satisfying. Without that, you risk circling in mediocrity, mistaking feeling for progress.
Kay’s point cuts deeper than photography. Advice only helps when it fits your level of experience. A beginner told to “trust your instincts” has no instincts yet. Early on, you need measurable reference points. Comparing your results against those of more skilled shooters and seeing what they see helps build that internal barometer. There’s an objective side to photography: exposure, light control, focus, composition. Those aren’t matters of taste. They’re learnable, repeatable, and testable. Ignoring validation too soon means you never refine those essentials.
At the same time, Kay isn’t dismissing creative independence. He draws a line between stages of growth. Beginners thrive on critique. Intermediates use it selectively. Masters eventually outgrow it because they’ve already internalized what “good” looks like. By that point, external validation becomes redundant, as you already know the outcome before anyone else says it. The creative search shifts from competence to purpose. You start chasing expression, mood, and meaning. But the only way to reach that level is to first invite judgment, not run from it.
Kay also touches on context, a word that does heavy lifting in his talk. Without context, you can’t judge whether their applies to you. Just as you wouldn’t take financial tips from someone broke, you shouldn’t take artistic advice from someone whose experience you can’t verify. Filtering is a skill, and it matters as much as aperture or shutter speed. Check out the video above for the full rundown from Kay.
22 Comments
Thank you for the link and introduction! To me, it’s a very important topic.
I find the idea of validation as a form of calibration very accurate. In creative work, we often confuse isolation with independence. But photographic vision and perception develop only through exchange, when you start to see as others see and understand what they do not see in your work.
Alvin,
In your genre, intentional camera movement abstracts, it is especially difficult to find insightful critique.
I used to post a few ICM abstracts to a photography forum for other members to critique, and the advice they would give me was dreadfully shallow and misguided. They had little to zero experience shooting those types of images, and had no idea what one "should" look like. It was frustrating because I really wanted to learn how to shoot those types of images in a more compelling way, but I could not find any critique that had any experience or insight behind it.
Are you part of a photographic community that understands the type of work you do? Have you found a source of image critique that can be trusted, and that helps you continue to grow?
I'm happy to offer my thoughts on ICM work, for what it's worth. However, I've been hammered on by enough people with big egos (see comment below) that I usually refrain from commenting until asked for an opinion. I do have a small collection of these type of images posted on my website, the link for which appears in my Fstoppers profile. It's definitely not a favorite or major part of my work, as it is for Alvin, but I've given it a fair amount of thought, and it's not just a matter of blindly whirling the camera around and getting a blurry mess. Composition of lines, patterns and color still matter.
If you, and/or Alvin, would like to give critique on this image, your thoughts will be appreciated.
This is a grove of aspen trees in a woodland with lush green undergrowth and blue sky in the background.
I wanted to communicate the sense and feel of this patch of forest, but to "keep it real" in some ways. By keep it real, I mean I an not at all open to holding the camera at an angle. In real life, tree trunks primarily grow straight up, almost perfectly plumb, and shooting it in a way that the tree trunks are angled would defeat my intention of communicating the way this place feels.
It was quite difficult to get this image, it literally took hours to find a place that didn't have any distractions such as a big whitish rock in the underbrush, a big dark knot in one of the tree trunks, a tree that was bigger, or darker, than the others, a place where the trees were devoid of branches, etc. Everything had to work in a way that if I moved the camera straight down during the exposure, it would all look "clean" with nothing standing out. Then meant no horizontal features whatsoever. And that is so darn hard to find because nature is quite messy and finding a place within nature that is not messy is no small task.
Another challenge was shooting in such a way that the middle of the frame was not "stronger" than the rest of the frame. See how the two white streaks just left of the middle are more distinctive than the other areas of the frame, how they are "visually strong"? If those two tree trunks had been in the center of the frame, the composition would have been a disaster. In fact, at least 80% of my attempts were failures because the middle of the frame had visual weight, and that just looks so damn stupid and awkward.
I realize that to many people, this may just look like a blurry mess. I get that and accept it. But I actually did put a lot of intentionality into this shot, and others similar to it, and everything is the way it is for a reason. I don't just shoot and "see how it turns out". I have a very clear idea of exactly what I am trying to accomplish, and exactly how I want the final image to look, and then I spend hours, or days, trying to get an image to look just like the vision that is in my mind's eye. That doesn't mean that I think the results are great or anything. It just means that the results accomplished what I wanted them to.
Be glad to... I have to get some projects done at home this afternoon, like disconnect the swamp cooler on the roof before it freezes around here. But will comment later.
You’ve answered the question, Tom: “How did I make this image?” The equally important question is: “Why did I make this image?” You touched briefly on that question in your comments: “I wanted to communicate the sense and feel of this patch of forest.” So what were you feeling when standing there with your camera, and did that emotion translate successfully for you in the photograph? I raise that point because I think it’s really important to understand the purpose for our images, which we can use as some sort of measuring stick for its success or failure. From my point of view and the pictures I make, visual interest and detail are my reasons for clicking the shutter. Secondarily are the emotions that I might derive from viewing the picture. I sometimes enjoy the sense of peace, calmness and serenity that I have from viewing many of my nature pictures. Other times, it's simply an exploration of details. This particular image of yours is totally different from your wildlife photos where sharpness, detail and subject matter itself are the key ingredients. I would imagine that you could stare at one of your favorite wildlife images for half-an-hour or more contemplating the beauty of the animal world. How does this picture, and ICM work in general, fit into your purpose for making the picture? Does it hold your attention similar to a bird photograph?
Technically speaking, I would ask the same questions of ICM work that I would of a literal rendering of any subject. Is the composition balanced? Are there distracting bright spots or unnecessary elements? Do the colors work together or clash? If you want to adhere to compositional rules, do the major transitions of form or color follow the rule of thirds? Is there depth in the image? In that respect, you’ve answered your own questions: “the results accomplished what I wanted them to.” You thought through what you wanted to create and did it, so I see no reason to find fault with the image. As far as what I see in the image… I see a well balanced composition, firmly anchored by a green area of grasses in the bottom portion of the image. I see a strand of dark trees on the right edge of the frame, and light trees on the left edge and upper left corner, which throws the symmetry off just a bit. Does it matter? Not if it doesn’t to you. Just an observation. The image also lacks some of the depth that Alvin speaks about, but that too is a matter of preference and an ingredient which you may, or may not want, to include in your work. As a continuation of that thought… I’m not sure that there’s a recipe for making an ICM image “correctly,” or what one “should” look like. Following a roadmap is a sure path to making redundant images.
I’m not sure about the critique, but I can share my own path in ICM with a similar subject for comparison.
When working with intentional camera movement, I try to preserve two things: depth and detail. My main issue was that many ICM images looked too flat and overly abstract, relying only on color to hold attention. So I started experimenting with different gestures and shooting techniques that keep the intentional motion visible while still retaining fragments of the real world within the frame. That, in my view, helps sustain the viewer’s attention and creates a sense of intrigue around the image.
The first example is a forest scene by a lake. I spent a long time trying to maintain spatial depth despite the density of the trees, which usually dissolve into alternating vertical bands. Eventually, I slowed down to a 10-second exposure and found a spot where sunlight partially reached the pine forest near the water. I wouldn’t call the image particularly strong in color, but I think the question of depth was resolved within the limits of ICM.
The second example follows the same idea — to blur the image to the edge of abstraction, but still preserve detail. The photograph works mostly through color, yet again, it required a long search for a balance between movement and a sufficient level of detail that keeps the image connected to reality.
Both images were made as single in-camera exposures.
These two images are quite beautiful. I find myself looking at them for much more than a moment, studying the distribution of color and the texture. I especially appreciate the bits of blue sky peeping through the tree trunks in the first image, and the yellow underbrush that underscores the composition (except on the left side) of the second image.
I do not understand how the texture was obtained, and must assume that you employ a very different type of camera movement than I do when shooting abstracts. My typical ICM images usually involves a shutter speed of 1/10th of a second to 1/20th of a second, with the camera being swung rapidly during that time.
I hold my camera up at head level and swing it as fast as possible down to waist level, and try to trip the shutter at exactly the right instant within that period of motion. This gives me the best odds of obliterating any little distractions or details that might draw the eye.
Obviously, the way you use camera motion is very different, as evidenced by the look of your images and by the fact that you mention a 10 second exposure time. Could you please describe how you move the camera during the time that the shutter is open?
I am also interested in how you get a 10 second exposure to yield a "proper" exposure. I just couldn't do that in the full sun conditions that I prefer for such work. Unless I used darkening filters or something, but that filter stuff just isn't for me. So how did you achieve what you did without completely blowing out the entire frame?
Thank you, Tom.
In my case, the specific movement matters less than the duration while the shutter is open. The longer the exposure, the more layers of light and structure are recorded, and that’s what creates the level of detail you see.
And yes, I do use ND filters, from ND16 to ND1000, depending on lighting conditions and aperture settings. That gives me enough flexibility for long exposures, even with wide apertures. I started with Hoya but later switched to B+W, as Hoya filters produced a noticeable color shift that didn’t work for me. B+W filters have been much more consistent for my workflow.
I've gravitated toward relatively fast shutter and quick/short camera movement, and not necessarily in a straight line. More impressionist in style than abstract. I'm not a big fan of purely abstract images. I'll also blend an ICM image with a stationary image, bringing some of the sharply focused elements into the scene for greater clarity as to what the viewer is looking at, and satisfy my preference for detail. There are probably hundreds of different techniques to use for different effects, and the best way I've found for deciding what results I prefer is to practice, practice, practice... changing combinations of shutter speed and camera motion.
I used straight movements mostly for illustration. I completely agree that more complex amplitudes tend to produce more interesting images.
There is an approach where photography begins to resemble painting. It is called pictorialism, and it helped to legitimize photography as an art form back in the nineteenth century. The term is broader, but the main idea is the same: to make it look like a painting.
It is an interesting direction, but there is also the opposite tendency, to avoid such resemblance and to keep photography true to itself. This principle also has a name, medium specificity, meaning that painting remains painting and photography remains photography.
I experiment with both, but the second one feels closer to me. For the first approach, you can indeed use F16–22 and 1/8–1/15 sec without ND-filters. Here are a few examples.
I could add a bit more fuel to the fire.
Panoramic photos are technically challenging. ICM panoramas take it even further. They require steady motion and a composition that can survive the split. Hard, but not impossible. This one was made from three separate shots. It could be printed in high resolution, measuring nearly 3.5 meters (about 11.5 feet) in length, quite a substantial size for a photograph. But this one is just an experiment.
Getting three ICM images to blend is impressive... doubt I could get two to have the same pattern if I tried all day. Now all you need is a client with an 11.5' high wall.
Very well done!
Multiple exposure is also a very interesting technique, but I decided to focus on a single frame without any post-assembly. Still, the method itself is fascinating and has a long history, with a heritage far richer than ICM’s.
I'm making sure you saw my response above to your ICM post? Most people expect a critique to state what is wrong with a picture, or how it can be improved. That is not generally my intent, at least beyond novice composition or exposure issues. My "critiques" are for the purpose of getting the photographer to think more about his work. By citing what I see in a picture and how I respond on an emotional level, it may also help the photographer determine whether he was successful in what he had hoped to communicate.
Ed, I completely agree.
For most photographers, my works look like obvious mistakes. FStoppers has actually been the only photography platform where I’ve received genuinely positive feedback from within the community. Still, I eventually found another context — the art world and fine art photography, where validation comes from curators, galleries, and museums. Interestingly, one of my works that was highlighted by Der Greif received a rather low rating on FStoppers. But that doesn’t mean photographers are wrong; it’s just a completely different way of seeing photography, and it takes a real shift in mindset to appreciate it. That’s perfectly fine.
In any case, considering that I’ve only been active in the public space for about half a year, I’m quite happy with the results of this validation process. And I’m fully prepared for the challenges that come with this genre.
Galleries and museum curators can be a great insight into all aspects of art.... if we have the type of work, story, and personality that fits with them. I recall talking here awhile back about art galleries, making the comment that it often feels like I'm speaking a different language than they are. I'm not even sure I'm convinced in my own mind that photography falls within the category of fine art. Surely it can be more than pure documentary, but sometimes getting over that hurdle of photography as art can be problematic before even getting to first base with a lot of galleries. Great if you can do it... I wish you the best. It certainly raises the value of your work.
Random musings....
The ego plays a supersized role in how we react to criticism. Comments from unqualified photographers are valid and welcomed graciously if they're praising our work, but stupid and discredited as a beginner if critical. That's an ego problem. In other words, if someone says our photo is stunningly beautiful, we don't say... "hey, you're just an ignorant beginner... you have no idea what you're talking about."
I agree that context matters, and that we can better understand how criticism can be interpreted in light of the other person's work. I wish every person who writes a comment here of any kind would post a few images in their portfolio. If someone wants to accuse my work as dull and boring, I'd at least like to see what they do themselves that's so exciting. In fact, it's my biggest complaint about the nature of these discussions... talk is cheap. Show us what you've got. After all, this is a photography site.
That said, I disagree that it absolutely requires an expert or professional to teach or offer any sort of valuable insight. Athletic coaches may have been lousy athletes themselves, but have a real understanding of strategy and motivation. They can see on film and replays what they may have been unable to do themselves. The best athletes often make bad coaches.
I agree, the problem does exist, and you’ve pointed it out very accurately. I’m still new to this field and often full of doubts about my work. But I’ve found a good approach: to ask curators rather than photographers. It was really intimidating at first, but I discovered that many of them (though not all) are open and willing to offer advice. It just takes time, and you have to be prepared to wait a long while for a reply.
When in the business of photography, the best place to look for feedback is always your customer, or the people who have some actual influence in selling your work. And the thing I've noticed about people is that when you ask them for their thoughts, they're far more likely to respond than if I try and beat them to death with what I have to say.
There’s a certain complication: customer feedback is useful only if you understand that it’s a mirror, not a roadmap. It reflects where you’ve been, but it won’t tell you where to go.
I think customer feedback can be a roadmap. I often invite them to speak about what they look for in making art selections. It can be especially enlightening when there are differences between their objectives and my style of work. Not that it totally changes my work on the spot, but various conversations of that type over the years have influenced my photography.
One such conversation about 20 years ago was during a portfolio review by a prospective client. She carefully looked at each of my favorite landscape prints, but said nothing for several minutes. I knew from her facial expressions that the pictures were not as compelling for her as they were for me. Finally I asked what she looked for in buying art, and I remember her answer as clearly as if it were yesterday: "Ed, I want to look at artwork that makes me dream."
Clearly deflated but not deterred, I've kept that comment in the back of my mind ever since, which has led to new and different styles of photography beyond just the literal rendering of landscapes. I'm sure you can relate as the ICM work you do connects on a different level with buyers of your photos than straight photography, as did pictorial work of the early 20th century. My point is that a conversation with designers and curators can suggest new possibilities that we may never have seriously thought of beforehand. Other photographers will tell you how you should have cropped your picture or brought out more shadow detail; customers will provide inspiration for pushing the envelope of your work.