Looking for Landscapes That Don't Want to Be Photographed

After about 40 years of photography, the biggest change in my work has nothing to do with cameras, lenses, or the transition from film to digital. It’s what I look for when I’m out with my camera.

Early in my career, much of my photography involved shooting commercially for publications and brands. That meant solving a problem for someone else and delivering the photograph they needed. For a typical travel article, which I shot a lot of, that meant photographing beautiful landscapes, interesting buildings, and dramatic locations: views that would make people want to visit and see for themselves.

The popular views like the Grand Canyon or mountain ranges in the Canadian Rockies made me realize something about familiarity. We don't necessarily photograph what's interesting when we travel to these incredible locations; we photograph what we notice—or, maybe more accurately, what has been noticed and pointed out already by others. The obvious views and landmarks that are shouting for attention continue to get that attention. That familiarity has a way of making us stop really seeing and noticing.

Over time, I became increasingly interested in photographs that didn't announce themselves quite so loudly because shooting the same old views as everyone else shot, well, I felt like an uncreative sheep, if I’m honest.

As photographers, we often travel to find beautiful photos because that street we drive down every day can become invisible to us, even though someone from another country might find its architecture, cars, signs, shops, and everyday details fascinating. Travel can temporarily remove that familiarity and make us see ordinary things again. At least, that’s what we tend to believe.

Instead of asking, "Where's the great photograph?", I’m now more interested in asking, "What's interesting here that everyone else is ignoring?" This could be on my own street, at the Grand Canyon, or at Big Ben in London.

That might mean photographing an unusual piece of architecture, an interesting relationship between shapes, patches of color, a shadow, or simply something that catches my eye for reasons I can't immediately explain.

This has certainly led me away from the idea that every photograph needs to shout for attention simply to compete in a social media feed.

Epic landscapes, dramatic skies, spectacular sunsets, and famous locations all have their place, but I’m increasingly drawn toward quieter photographs: images that might initially seem ordinary but become more interesting the longer you look at them.

Many years ago, I was more concerned with whether other people thought my photos were good. Usually clients, as they were writing the checks! Today, my focus has shifted to whether I like a photo.

That shift is incredibly liberating. Once the photographer stops trying to make photographs that everybody else will approve of, there is more room to photograph what genuinely interests them.

After 40 years, improving as a photographer has nothing to do with better equipment or some secret “game-changing” technique. It has everything to do with having the patience to look a little longer.

Sometimes the most interesting photograph isn't the spectacular thing in front of you that everyone marvels at. It's the ordinary thing that everyone else has stopped seeing.

Watch the video above, where I explain how my approach to photography has changed and why looking beyond the obvious has become such an important part of my work.