They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but sometimes, a few of those words need to be cut. Cropping isn’t just about trimming an image—it’s about sharpening the story you want to tell.
The power of cropping. I see articles from time to time promoting the idea that only the original in-camera cropping of an image should be shown and that there is more intrinsic value to an image if it is shown uncropped. That is especially common among film photographers, and it's something I have never understood. Let me show you a few images that were taken from exactly the same position. Some are extracts from a larger photograph; however, circumstances at the time dictated that I could only be in that one position—personal safety was the issue since a fall would have been devastating. Some film users even used specialized film holders to show the margins of the frame of the image. Humorously, I see some digital photographers add those frames digitally, which seems kind of gimmicky to me, but to each their own.

Several more images were made from this exact spot above. The lesson here should be look for multiple images inside the image you're creating.
Typically, a photographer will crop out a lot of material in any photograph they make. For that matter, a painter does too. So what's the difference between showing only a portion of a much larger scene when you create the original image and cropping the image down once you see the original image as a proofed image or as a raw file on your computer?

So when is cropping indicated? My choice is to crop when there is an element that is visually distracting to me. I saw this pine from quite a lower altitude and worked my way up to a position above it, but not high enough to isolate it against the mountain behind it... I ran out of mountain to climb in this case. So what to do? The light was exactly what I wanted, but I could not go higher, and the ridgeline of the mountains in the distance is a big visual distraction to me.
So the trade-off was to cut off a part of the needles in the bristlecone and get rid of the ridgeline, or keep all of the tree and live with the ridgeline—which is a monster distraction for me. In the end, getting rid of the distraction was more important, and I could live with the crop here very easily. The bottom line is that sometimes we just can't get everything like we want it, so compromises have to be made.
BTW, this was done using a Toyo 45A camera. I ended up using a 210mm Sinaron-S lens, a #15 yellow filter, and Kodak T-Max 100 film. Using a longer focal length lens, like a 300mm, and a higher position up the mountain I was on would have solved the problem. However, I was at the absolute highest point of the peak I was on, so that solution was off the table. Working with the image in a digital milieu would have allowed me to clone the ridgeline out, a very simple thing to do, but this was using film and darkroom paper. Though I am a very good to excellent darkroom printer, that kind of operation is beyond what I can do in the darkroom.
Another time to crop is when there are distractions on the edge of an image that were either missed in the original exposure or that couldn't be dealt with in the moment. And sometimes it's necessary to include elements that we know will be a distraction, but they are there, so we have to deal with them.


And yes, I do see the stick that is still there in the upper left corner. However its prominence is greatly reduced, and cropping further down, which I could do, will crop out some material that I think is important to the composition as a whole. So sometimes there are compromises to be made and you have to pick the one that does more what you want it to.
Crop out Intrusions
One of the things I commonly do before I actually do open the shutter on the material I am portraying is that I will physically, with my eyes, scan the edges of whatever it is I will be portraying, and then make an effort to get rid of those things before making the exposure. Looking for what I call "intrusions" into my photograph. Those might be tree branches, twigs, cigarette butts or even a dirty baby diaper, or worse, that someone has left behind; and BTW, when you are out, take a big trash bag with you and pick that trash up! Sometimes though, in spite of your best efforts there might be something that you overlook. It happens to all of us. When in doubt, crop it out! Even when there is no doubt, crop it out.
Several years ago I was high in the mountains of central Colorado when I came on an aspen forest where there was a grouping of Cow Parsnip that was in bloom in a very thick forest of Aspen Trees. I, very excitedly, set up my tripod, took off my back pack and set up my camera. As diligent as I was, I missed the salad bar of greenery on the lower left edge of the image. It was only after getting home, processing the film, and proofing it that I realized what I had done. For me it was a no brainer. The salad bar would have to go.


The image, as presented here, is, for me, a much more satisfying image since the distractions of the curving aspen on the right side and the salad bar in the lower left corner have both been cropped out. The key for me here is to emphasize the blooms of the cow parsnips near the lower middle, and the many textures of the forest understory contrast against the bark and vertical form of the aspens in the forest.
Sometimes, there will be material on the edges of a scene that either wasn't seen in the original exposure or couldn't be cropped out in-camera, like in these images where I was, again, using a large format camera. Because of that, I wasn't using a zoom lens—only fixed focal length lenses are available. In the first one, I was walking into a location in Arkansas, and as I walked around a corner in the trail, I was confronted by these two sycamore trees. It was late spring, but there were still leaves that had hung on over the winter, and they gave an elegant color contrast with their red and brown tones against the wall, which appeared almost blue due to the luminance reflected from the bluish-cyan of the open sky to my right side. A complementary color scheme, and one of my favorites.

As you can see, cropping removed a visual distraction along the left edge and a spot of the open sky in the upper right-hand corner. Cropping can be a powerful tool!
Another time, while I was working as Artist in Residence for the National Park Service at Buffalo National River in Arkansas in the very early spring, the redbuds and dogwoods were blooming at the same time. (Interesting side note: that year, they had two springs—a rare occurrence—which caused the redbuds and dogwoods to bloom concurrently, so I was very fortunate to be there at that time!)
I was hiking down an extremely steep section of the Buffalo National Trail. The trail was extremely steep—the Ozark Mountains are basically vertical with a slight pitch—and there was physically no way to get closer or farther away from the material I was trying to portray. So I did the best I could with the tools I had available.


Cropping can be a very subjective tool. I preferred to remove the tree on the left side of the frame, crop out the ridgeline of the opposite mountain, and get rid of some of the tree material on the right side because I wanted the main attention to be on the white dogwoods near the upper center of the image, with the pink of the redbuds and the bright greens of the budding trees as supporting elements. Others might prefer to keep those elements in their image.
So the bottom line is to crop out what you don't want to show. Nothing is sacred, and no format or proportions are sacred. I was told early in my career that everything should be either 8x10 or 5x7 proportional and that all cropping had to be done in the camera. Of course, all of that is nonsense—it’s what horses leave on the floors of the stables where they spend the night. You are the artist! You decide what your photograph will look like. For better or for worse, it is your photograph—make it what you want it to be.
I'm not sure that there's a more personal and controversial subject relating to photography than cropping. I'm pretty fussy about what I've chosen to include or exclude in the frame of my images, so most people have come to realize they're wasting their breath trying to convince me of a better crop. After all, more than just eliminating distractions, cropping changes the balance of a photo, and balance is something we feel. I don't like someone messing with the feel of my images. It also plays a role in whether the photographer wants to show more of the context of their subject. I generally prefer filling the frame with a tight crop; but in other cases where I've chosen to include multiple subjects in a picture to suit my purpose, it drives me nuts when someone starts laying a piece of paper over one side or the other to show me how they think it should be cropped.
A lot depends on the competence of the one doing the "critique". I have had people comment on the color balance of one or more of my works. When I went to their page the problem was obvious! They were color blind. Cropping critiques from established masters will often serve to sharpen our vision, or perhaps remove scotomas. Comments from rank amateurs are received with kindness and discarded. Comments from established masters are regarded and often with great regard. All comments may be their right to say so, but not all commenters are equal.
BTW, my experience with camera clubs and photographic associations is kind of dismal.
The camera club in my community evolved from serious hobbyists beginning in the 1980s to people only casually interested in photography throughout the digital era. At one point the camera club was a thriving organization with a good mix of novice-expert photographers. Those days are gone.
So what do you do when you're out with a 3:2 camera and you see a scene that works best with a 1:1 (square) composition? Or out with your 4x5 and you see something that is best suited to 16:9? Do you just allow the opportunity to pass because you don't have a square format or 16:9 format camera with you?
I shoot with a Nikon D800E (3:2) and quite often crop an image. I'm not against cropping. Sometimes I see the final crop when shooting the picture... other times I recognize a better crop during post-processing. However, I make that decision after careful consideration of what I want to achieve with the picture. What I'm saying is that cropping is my choice, as much as the selection of the subject itself, and not something open to the opinion of other people who presume to know better how I should have cropped the picture.
Vertical format 3:2 landscapes typically don't feel right to me. But that's just a personal opinion. If I see the image as a panorama, I'll usually stitch a few images together rather than do serious cropping. I try not to give too many pixels away... they're a valuable ingredient for making large prints. Yes, I do end up with odd format ratios... whatever I feel best captures the subject. Thanks for asking.
Today, modern cameras have cropping tools on board. When shooting with my Fujifilm GFX 100s, I try different crops in the field to help my composition. The good news is that the raw files keep the native aspect ratio to allow you to fine tune in post. Here is a great video by Alister Benn on the subject: https://youtu.be/BtJ7Kq8RHNA?si=nwojicZMOu-wVOtA
Was the Bristlecone Pine above the town of Idaho Springs, perhaps?
Yes. There is a grove of Bristlecones there. Very, very cool old trees. One is 6000+ years old. One of the oldest on the planet. Rangers there will not divulge where it is. Oddly, that area is a city park for Denver. Only open a short period of time each year. I would love to get in there when there is a blizzard, but that's a very risky proposition since the road up to it is closed when the weather is bad, and it would be a very rugged height given the altitude gain involved.
Painters start from nothing at all and add in exactly what's needed, and nothing less. Photographers start with the entire universe and decide exactly what to remove, leaving nothing more. I try to do all of the work in camera that I can but, sure, we are all already cropping anyway.
Crop in the camera if you can is my thought. If not, then shoot the scene and crop in post-editing. You can make a dull image stronger with the correct ratio. Who says it has to be this way or that way? You are the painter and with the correct brush make a masterpiece even if the cropping is strange. For one of my final images in school, I used the 16:9 and scored an A+. It was so out of the norm, but it worked,
I’m really enjoying your essays! Your title is a phrase I often repeat to myself, and try to apply at every opportunity, but I also strive to achieve a subtle complexity that no one else appreciates! Regardless, I also wonder why we are stuck with rectangles, even specific ratios, the magic ratios excepted for some reason, and not able to able to compose in polygons or amorphous blobs. A sculptor can compose in space without a frame; we are confined to a box. We do not naturally experience visual space this way. Imagine cave art, or decorative art on objects of utility. That’s not what we do in photography. Somehow, photography has inhabited “the print” space of the Art world, small photographs, think etchings or drawings, or watercolor, large ones, think canvas, or mural. Priced at the square cm or inch, no? Then there is the book, and once upon a time, the newspaper, the photo magazine. The ideal of not cropping except in camera, so attractive as an ideal, not necessary for a clear mind.
"Somehow, photography has inhabited “the print” space of the Art world, small photographs, think etchings or drawings, or watercolor, large ones, think canvas, or mural." In some ways that's the fault of the photographers themselves though, since we have priced our work based on square inches, and the misconception that the image on the wall is as it came out of the camera, not as an interpretation or a creation of the artist. In some ways photography is the most difficult of all the arts since we have to be there when the event is happening, and we cannot create an image out of our imagination or combine a bunch of elements from someone else's labor. BTW, I have caught several people using elements of my work, or just using it outright and claiming it as theirs, including a major camera brand! It's a frustration when the makers of the tools they sell us don't have enough respect for the medium to credit it to the author. Digital and Photoshop have only exacerbated the problem, and AI is the height of the issue, IMHO, since it requires only a shiny new computer, the right software and a modicum of visual literacy and an inability to tell the truth of the image. Interesting times we live in. I do predict that there will be a time very soon when the artistic medium of photography - painting with light - will return to its roots and the darkroom print will again be the ultimate in photographic expression, since a film created darkroom print is an absolute creation of the artist. Hope it's soon!
The fact that photography is constrained by a small rectangular shape is what makes it so appealing for me. Extracting one little thing as a subject from within our vast field of view, and discarding the rest, is the beauty of photography. It's like writing a book and including only the elements of information which we choose. How well our photo is perceived as three-dimensional is a result of our skill in composing the image. But nevertheless it's still a two-dimensional piece of paper in which the photo is presented. The box form as made manifest in a canvas or print might not be natural, but it is the greatest gift ever bestowed upon the art world.
It's not that hard for me to imagine images rendered outside the traditional shape of a rectangular print. Dye sublimation printers can print on virtually any shape. Images printed as vehicle wraps conform to about any shape. Alas, images are taking on the shape and size of about any object imaginable. While those are examples of starting with a two-dimensional print and bending them into three-dimensional spaces, the Apple Vision Pro can capture a three-dimensional experience. But is it art?
I agree 110%. I am NOT a purist. Cropping can be a photographer's best friend.
I am enjoying this discussion. Ideas are interesting to me.
Cropping can be a powerful storytelling tool, and I can relate with the points made in this article. But cropping is not just a creative decision we make as photographers as it also happens after the fact when images are published, shared online, or adapted for different formats. Because of this, I often shoot a little wider to ensure my images work across multiple aspect ratios like 1x1, 2x3, 4x5, and 9x16. It is a small but intentional adjustment that helps preserve the integrity of the composition no matter where the image ends up.
Paul Tocatlian
Kisau Photography
www.kisau.com
The most cringe-worthy experience I ever had was with a customer who demanded that the image for a brochure cover fit a space without cropping, so it had to be scaled without constraining proportions.
I try not to crop, but, if it's for the betterment of the image, I will.
I am ruthless about cropping.
There seems to be at least two schools of thought about cropping. The Ansel Adams school where you compose your image as if you are going to make a contact print from a glass negative and the school explained to me by a Navy photographer friend who worked on Aircraft Carriers photographing the planes as they landed. He said leave room around the edges so you can straighten or compose your image in the dark room. The Ansel Adams technique is good for new photographers to learn to pay attention to composition whereas the leave room around the edges is good if you do not have time to compose an image, say during a sporing event or shooting something that just catches your eye and may be gone in a flash. Both have their uses.
I have had opportunity to stand in Ansel's darkroom and his archives. An assistant of his showed me some of his negatives, and I can guarantee you that while he may have photographed as though he would be showing a contact print, he was very willing to crop. Agreed, I try to work in the field to get the original as close to what I will want as possible. But errors in the field, things overlooked etc. often require cropping in the darkroom. Ansel must have been a horse. Consider that he hauled a 5x7 camera, lenses and glass film holders to "the Diving Board" in Yosemite to make his very famous photograph. He must have been very strong physically.