This article is the first in a series that I have planned about the role of creativity in photography. While this deep dive covers a few different topics broadly related to creativity, I am beginning with a reaction to two articles with similar messages:
Giving Composition Credit in Landscape Photography by David Kingham
Photographic Plagiarism by Eric Bennett
Both articles are written by talented photographers for whom I have great respect, and I strongly encourage you to read them both for yourself. Their messages are similar: that credit is due when a photographer creates a composition like one that came before it. This phenomenon is sometimes called “comp-stomping.” Bennett refers to it as “photographic plagiarism.”
A quick note: In this article, I spend a lot of time talking about composition, and I should be clear that I realize that this is only one early part of creating an image. I know that for many photographers, creative flexing happens during post-processing, when they are able to give the image the mood or “look” that suits their preferences and vision for the image. In this article, however, my focus is on the parts that come before post-processing: discovery and composition.
Intentionality#
In principle, I agree with the ideas that Kingham and Bennett put forth. Why wouldn’t we give compositional credit to someone who has influenced us so much that we are creating an image just like one they once created?
For me, the critical criteria in determining whether credit is due is intentionality, a notion that is present in both Kingham’s and Bennett’s articles (though a bit more explicitly in the latter’s). If you intentionally reproduce a specific composition with the goal of sharing the image with a broader audience and externally benefiting from it, I do think that as a photographer, you owe it to yourself, your audience, and the original artist to disclose the influence of the original work. By “externally benefiting,” I aim to exclude what I consider to be the primary acceptable justification for intentionally replicating a composition: as a learning mechanism through which one “internally” benefits. Much like a novice guitar player learning their favorite rock songs to get the hang of their instrument, I think that it is perfectly acceptable (and often even recommended) for novice photographers to seek out, reproduce, and share iconic compositions, as long they do so without the misconception that they are producing something original. In any other cases of obvious, intentional “photographic plagiarism,” it is my belief that crediting the composition appropriately is the right thing to do.
Composition provides artists with the means to communicate their creativity, and as a conduit of that coveted quality that makes an artist great, it is tempting to tap into their creative success through imitation. However, by intentionally lifting a composition from an image you’ve seen before, you shortcut the creative process and benefit from someone else’s hard work. I believe that this is a disservice to your own growth more than anything.
The But#
Despite my agreement in principle with the core idea that Kingham and Bennett put forth, when I first read these articles, something about them didn’t sit right with me. While an author or musician has more or less total control over their units of composition (words, notes), I don’t believe that the same cannot be said of a nature photographer. Creating a nature photograph is inherently a collaborative effort between the photographer and nature itself: nature provides the beauty, and through the deliberative process of composing the elements that nature has provided (the first of many processes involved in creating a photographic work of art), the photographer communicates a particular message or interpretation of what they see. This is not to say that nature is doing all of the heavy lifting; I fully acknowledge the challenge that the photographer faces in crafting an image that conveys a particular message about a particular subject, whether that subject is concrete or abstract. The photographer must make a number of conscious decisions about the image’s composition, such as which elements to include and which to exclude, as well as how to organize and arrange the elements within the frame. However, even though the photographer maintains nearly unlimited expressive freedom with regard to creating a particular image from a particular scene, to a large extent, they must work with what nature provides for the scene. Nature photography cannot exist without both the photographer and nature. My belief is that this is not a limitation; it is simply part of the craft itself.
Creating a nature photograph is inherently a collaborative effort between the photographer and nature itself.
I would like to emphasize that I do not intend for this idea to detract from what the photographer is doing or diminish their role in the process of creating an image. Our craft often involves agonizing over compositional decisions and spending countless hours returning to remote locations under different conditions. However, requiring photographers to give credit to similar compositions that came before them implies that there is some photographer, perhaps the first to create a well-known photograph of a particular area or landmark, has rights to or ownership of a particular perspective on a particular scene. I do not believe this to be the case. Furthermore, I believe that this diminishes nature’s role in what we do and mischaracterizes the role of nature photographers in the creative process of nature photography.
I don’t expect this to be a popular view among nature photographers, and admittedly, as someone who doesn’t make their living from photography, I freely acknowledge that the stakes here are low for me. Self-interest aside, however, I believe that it is important for nature photographers to at least be open to the consideration of their craft as a collaborative process with nature.
An example#
To illustrate my point, let’s consider an iconic location… before it was iconic. Say a photographer finds the icon on a backpacking trip, and stricken by its beauty, takes the time to compose a shot. They wait excitedly for sunset and it doesn’t disappoint. They capture their new discovery under a nuclear sky and can’t wait to share the image with the masses when they return to civilization.
Over the years, this same location is rediscovered many times by other hiker-photographers, and each creates a similar composition. Some make slight changes: different foregrounds, different light. Some have seen previous images of this location, but some have not.
What do these subsequent photographers owe to that first photographer who created and shared an iconic image? What if the idea to shoot at the same location was seeded by seeing the original image on social media? What if they end up creating an almost identical image?
Personally, I don’t believe that subsequent photographers owe anything to that first photographer. In fact, if the same composition can be repeatedly created over and over by photographers who simply need to put in the effort to travel to or find that location, then perhaps that first composition was not all that creative after all.
Part of the purpose of this example is to play devil’s advocate. Surely I understand and acknowledge the importance of artistic groundbreakers. And I understand the defensiveness that a photographer might feel when they see their compositions replicated or even improved upon by other photographers. My point is that as an artistic community, we should value being creative more than being the first to create a potentially obvious composition of a potentially obvious subject. Should we be lucky enough to discover an unknown location with iconic grandeur, perhaps we should ask ourselves: is this exactly how the next photographer will compose their image?
Holding Creativity to a Higher Standard#
I believe that rather than trace back endlessly duplicated compositions to their originator, we should redirect our efforts toward holding creativity to a higher standard. Groundbreakers in photography break ground not only by discovering and photographing a new location, but also by creating thoughtful, creative images that aren’t easily reproduced by the next photographer who stumbles across that location. Let us strive to create compositions that aren’t obvious. Let us focus on details, on subtleties, on depth. Let us create images with impact.
In my own work, holding creativity to a higher standard has led me to fully embrace a slower, more intentional approach to photography. While I’ve never really been one who seeks out iconic locations to shoot, I certainly went through a phase in which I was fixated on shooting grand scenes under the dramatic light of sunrise or sunset. During these shoots, I routinely found myself frantically scrambling to find compelling foregrounds, endlessly repositioning to catch the best light, taking dozens of shots for focus stacking and exposure bracketing, and stressing out about “getting the shot.” While I still enjoy shooting through all the phases of light during sunrise and sunset, a slower approach to photography in the field has led me to favor intimate landscapes and abstracts, focusing instead on expressive subtleties and details over grand vistas and dramatic light. No longer a stressful affair, shooting has become meditative for me.
No longer a stressful affair, shooting has become meditative for me.
While I am not suggesting that photographs of grand, iconic subjects are not worth seeking out, I do propose that we contextualize those images and be honest about what they contribute artistically. For example, if a photographer creates a simple composition at a beautiful vista or iconic scene, they might carefully consider not only what they wish to communicate with that image, but also whether it matters if another photographer comes along and creates a similar image (or potentially improves on what they did). Would that take away from the impact of the image that they created? If they believe that it does, it may be prudent to direct their efforts toward creating a more thoughtful, original composition that effectively communicates their vision for the image.
The Role of Inspiration#
As a final point, I believe it is important not to conflate committing “photographic plagiarism” creating work that is artistically inspired or intended to build on previous work. While I don’t think that studying the work of photographic groundbreakers is a prerequisite to creating great art, I do believe that their influence and the influence of the artistic community in general is difficult to avoid. In fact, I believe that inspiration is largely inevitable. We can’t unsee an image that has made an impact on us, and unless we actively try to keep ourselves in an artistic vacuum (what some call “photographic celibacy”), it is difficult to prevent ourselves from seeing the work of other artists. I think the best approach is for photographers to embrace inspiration, especially if they are beginners. There is great value in feeding the imagination with the work of artists who inspire us. Inspiration seeds our own vision and motivates us to better ourselves as artists. Realizing and accepting that inspiration is inevitable enables us to be more deliberate about how we choose to nourish our minds creatively. Furthermore, acknowledging the influence of other artists can be a valuable exercise that helps to clarify the themes of our work and our goals as artists.
Summary#
To summarize:
We should be honest about our intentions when creating a photograph. If we consciously seek to replicate a composition that we have seen for purposes other than learning, credit is probably due. By not acknowledging such intentions, we shortcut the creative process, benefit from someone else’s efforts, and potentially do a disservice to our own growth. That said, while a photographer may have rights to a particular image, I disagree with the notion that a photographer can have the rights to or ownership of particular compositions in nature. To me, this mischaracterizes the photographer’s role in the process of creating a nature photograph, which I see as a collaboration with the natural world.
We should hold creativity to a higher standard. There is much more to photography as art than creating beautiful images or being the first to photograph an iconic scene. Photographs have immense expressive potential, and composition is a powerful tool that we can use to produce creative images that have impact.
We should embrace the role of inspiration and acknowledge the artists who have played a role in shaping our work and perspectives on photography. None of us would be where we are with the artistic pioneers who came before us, whether their influence is direct or indirect, conscious or subconscious. Identifying our influences can help us to refine our vision and shape our goals.
Thank you for reading this article. If you have any thoughts on these topics, feel free to share them with me by commenting below or messaging me on Instagram or directly.
Referenced Articles#
Giving Composition Credit in Landscape Photography by David Kingham
Photographic Plagiarism by Eric Bennett
Creating Scenes by Eric Bennett