HOW SIMPLE CAN A PHOTOGRAPH BE BEFORE IT LOSES ITS MEANING?
"How simple can a photograph be before it loses its meaning?"
It's a question I've returned to throughout my creative journey. Some of the strongest images hover near that line—pared down, quiet, yet full of presence. But simplicity in photography isn't about minimalism for its own sake—it's about essentialism. It's about focusing on what belongs in the frame and letting go of what doesn't.
In my work, it's not just the subject itself that matters—it's the space around it. That space, often overlooked, holds just as much importance as the forms within the frame. When you give it your attention, you realize it's not empty at all. It's where the feeling and spirit of the image come through.
"Last Remaining Form" is a photograph that embodies this idea for me.
The skeletal greenhouse, standing alone in an endless snowfield, tells part of the story through its structure. But what gives the image its depth is the open space surrounding it. That snow-covered expanse isn't blank—it amplifies the presence of the form and invites the viewer's imagination to participate.
What's left unsaid becomes part of the experience. The viewer might wonder what this place looks like in the summer, what grows here, and what's hidden beneath the snow. The space around the form makes the image feel expansive, inviting curiosity rather than closing off the scene.
Without that space, the image would feel crowded—overburdened with unnecessary details. But with it, there's balance and room to breathe, making the composition more dynamic and alive.
In Practice: Questions to Ask in the Field
When working through your compositions, think about what's essential and what isn't. Simplicity in photography is about including only what serves the story and excluding what doesn't. Here are a few questions to guide you in the field:
What is primary, and what is secondary?
Every scene has a primary subject, whether it's a striking form, a moment of light, or a relationship between objects. Are the secondary elements in the frame supporting the primary—or distracting from it?
Are the relationships between space and form balanced?
Pay attention to the space between elements. Is there enough space for the subject to breathe? Are the forms visually connected or competing for attention?
Am I including anything unnecessary?
Scan the edges of your frame and ask: Does this belong? Even small distractions—a stray line, an out-of-place object—can pull focus from the core feeling you're trying to convey.
Does the composition spark curiosity?
Powerful images allow the viewer's imagination to fill in the gaps. Does your composition simply show the scene, or does it spark the viewer's curiosity and invite them to imagine more?
"How simple can your photograph be before it loses its meaning?" That's a question worth asking as you compose your shots. When you focus on what's essential and let go of distractions, you create more than an image—you create an experience that stays with the viewer long after they've walked away.
