Recreating photographs we admire is a great way to learn.
We get to grips with composition, understand how light shapes a scene and develop the skills to turn an idea into an image.
There’s real satisfaction in standing somewhere familiar and finally making the photograph we’ve seen others take. But once we know how to do it, that satisfaction can quickly fade.
We come home with a perfectly good photograph, yet feel strangely unmoved by it.
We’ve achieved what we set out to do, so why does it feel as though something is missing?
The Peril of Cliché
The trouble with repeating a familiar photograph is that someone else has already done much of the discovering.
They noticed the possibilities, chose the viewpoint and decided what belonged in the frame. We might need considerable skill to recreate the result, but we’re still reproducing their view of the world.
Once we’ve mastered that challenge, there’s less to hold our interest. We know what we’re looking for before we arrive.
What to include, what to leave out, how to arrange the elements into a pleasing composition. These are some of the most important creative decisions in photography.
And someone else has already made them for us.
Find Your Own Voice
Making those creative decisions for ourselves sounds straightforward. But stepping away from a familiar photograph means pursuing an idea before we know whether it will work.
Our own ideas offer no guarantees. It takes courage to give them a chance.
It also takes time. Finding our own voice means creating space for ideas to emerge, develop and sometimes come to nothing. When every photograph begins with someone else’s example, there’s little room for that to happen.
We have to be willing to leave the familiar behind before we know what will take its place.
More of You in Every Photo
When we give our own ideas time to develop, our photographs begin to reveal more about us.
The things we notice, the subjects we return to and the compositions we choose reflect our interests and experiences. Two photographers can stand in the same place and find very different photographs.
That’s where a deeper satisfaction begins. The image matters because we discovered something and decided how to express it.
Even a simple photograph can carry that sense of ownership. We remember what caught our attention and how the idea took shape. The satisfaction comes from knowing that the choices were ours.
Learning from other photographers gives us a place to begin. Recreating their work helps us develop the skills we need, but there comes a point when we need to make more of the creative decisions ourselves.
That means allowing time for our ideas to develop and accepting that we won’t always know where they’re leading.
The reward is a deeper satisfaction in what we make. Our photographs begin to reflect our own interests, experiences and way of seeing.
The familiar photograph may still be worth taking. But it’s worth leaving room for the one you haven’t yet imagined.
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