A few days ago, a comment was made on my blog article about perfect moments : “I hope you run a travel workshop in the near future. Something really laid back, relaxing and being about experiencing the place. It’s not always about the shot.” In response, I quipped something along the lines about how people would be unlikely to pay for a workshop not about getting the shot. Given that one of the most successful TV series of all time was based on the premise of a ‘show about nothing’, perhaps there is more to this idea than meets the eye.
This morning, I engaged in my first landscape shoot of the year. Driving into Bude after a week of fine weather in Paris, I was reacquainted with my old Cornish friends : dense fog, driving rain, strong winds and a featureless overcast sky. Nothing had changed by the time I drove out to the beach the next morning. Fortunately this was one of those locations that has never failed to deliver a memorable experience, whether I came back empty handed or not. Even when blowing a gale, the conditions only add to the windswept ruggedness of the place. I was content to walk up and down the shoreline and marvel at the rusty cliffs, smooth rock formations, orange sand and the aquamarine water in the tidal pools. There was no hurry; whether I even made a single exposure was of no consequence.
At its most transcendental level, landscape photography becomes an almost spiritual pursuit. Watching the elements of earth, sea and sky interact, you are confronted by higher powers whether you believe in a higher entity or science. To take this analogy a step further, does a person pray because they have faith or because they expect results? Is the success of a morning outing dependent on whether the photographer bagged a shot or not? What is the best measure of how good a workshop is? The number of images added to a portfolio. How much you learned? Or perhaps how much you enjoyed it?
One aspect of landscape photography that I find increasingly tiresome, is the persistent trophy-hunting style of making images. It’s photography on steroids : more extreme angles, more intense colours, more post-processing and the rush to nail a shot at the most recent discovered location. Of course there are times when it is necessary to pursue an idea relentlessly, after all photos don’t take themselves. However when the hunt becomes an ingrained part of the art, it’s time to slow down. Instead of trying to score a great sunrise or sunset, with time I’ve become more concerned with listening to the story a place has to tell and what I have to say.
So what happened this morning on my first landscape shoot of the year? I eventually settled on a composition that incorporated the features that I had found most striking during my stroll. While setting up, a small break opened in the sea mist and sky – too long after sunrise to produce any colours but it added luminosity to the subtle colours of the scene and a touch of mystery. It was the perfect expression of my mood this morning.
Of course the large version on the website is much nicer and can be found here.

Certainly wasn’t expecting a scene like that from your initial description of the weather!
Good post though, reminds me of my own thoughts on bushwalkers/hikers who aim to reach every mountain peak but don’t seem to give time to enjoy it. I tend to look with disdain at people who spend the whole sunset/sunrise behind their camera lens..
Great sentiment Kah Kit
Simply being there is part of the joy of being a landscape photographer. I agree with you so much about this post, however, I do disagree with Nick’s statement regarding disdain; if a photographer happens to enjoy the scene by being behind the lens the whole time, then who are we as another individual to deny them their own internal pleasure derived from the scene?
Fair point and I admit that was probably harsher language then intended, but I do feel you miss out on part of the experience.. Different goals for different people of course.
Nick, photography is very much a secondary aspect of your adventures so you have different priority to that of a professional photographer for instance who needs to make some useable shots.
I saw this image in my RSS feed and had to admire the larger version. Bravo! Your points are well taken, as I always tell people that my camera does get in the way of my experiences. On the other hand, it is my livelihood, so I have to be out there shooting. It is a compromise that I have to reconcile with my experiences, but I have no right to complain.
Jon, I guess we need to strike the right balance between pursuing images and also knowing when to let the photos come to you. Both can be satisfying in their own way. I believe that constant trophy-hunting will eventually hurt the breadth and emotional range of one’s portfolio.
Interesting thoughts. Maybe trophy-hunting is like money. Once you have lots of it, it’s not so important, but for those not in that position yet it’s still what drives them. I include myself in this and also the category Nick has disdain for – I just love being behind the camera when the light is good! The only exception is when the location doesn’t justify shooting – then I can sit back and just watch the sunrise/sunset (albeit wishing I was somewhere else shooting it…)
The problem with photography is that you’re often not quite sure when the sweetest light is going to be, so there is the tendency to stay behind the lens all evening:)
Very well written and true. For me the journey is more important than the result.
This is so beautiful and emits a calm serenity. Why visit a place unless you can take at least a little time to enjoy it and photograph it? But trophy hunting is rampant in the world. I worked in the visitor center of the Grand Canyon, and too many people rushed in to get their national park passport stamped – some never even looking into the canyon. The idea of getting a stamp from all national parks was a mightier goal than enjoying them.
So, why go anywhere if you can’t/won’t take time to enjoy!
I thought I would give a separate response to Chris Gin’s comment about the need to trophy-hunt when one’s portfolio is still in its early stages. What I mean about the hunt is the single-minded pursuit of photos from each location visited. It’s pass or fail depending on whether you nail the shot or not. It’s about the photographer strutting his stuff rather than allowing the landscape to work its own magic. I believe a more immersive approach allows the artist to work outside the usual patterns of compositional algorithms and visual cues that he usual applies to a scene.
I would like to make more images that connect the viewer to a place, moment or feeling that I have at the time. Speaking from experience, these are the photos that you’re most likely to treasure. If the viewer is enjoying imagery in this way, I’m hoping that the first response will be something deeper than which aperture I used or whether I used a 2 stop or 3 stop filter.
I’m not saying that we shouldn’t work hard and actively at making photos – landscape photography requires a great deal of dedication. I’m advocating that we take the time to step back and examine what the heck we’re doing when we are out in the field.
A great read and a very fine image. I have had extended discussions with various people about this on my podcasts; Guy Tal, David Clapp and Sean Bagshaw. Many professional photographers are the worst offenders for trophy hunting as they know these are the images that are most immediately marketable.
Most of us have to consider a certain element of “utility” in our work, images that can pay our expenses or make a living. It is an unfortunate trait of contemporary landscape photography that people buy “wow” –
Finding the balance between creating meaningful, expressive and quality work that meets our needs to create an income is our Nirvana.
How do you reconcile your statement here saying, “One aspect of landscape photography that I find increasingly tiresome, is the persistent trophy-hunting style of making images.”
…with an earlier post stating:-
“It was another successful year in terms of photography contests. [list numerous awards]”
It really depends on your definition of “trophy”. Is the trophy the photo itself? (stamp collecting analogy), or is the “trophy” some photography-contest award? Choose carefully
Not sure what one has to do with the other. This article is about one’s mindset when out in the field. The other is simply a recap of awards I received during the year.