I have over 400,000 photographs on my hard drives. Of those, only 2,000 images have been compelling enough over the years to consider them final photographs or “keepers.” I suspect I’d have even fewer if I went through them all now. That’s a so-called keeper rate of 0.5% or less.
After almost 40 years behind a camera, only half of one percent of the images I make become something I’m proud of, something that feels like it does what I wanted it to, something I’d sign my name to.
Most of the 99.5% that I have rejected are sharp; most are exposed “properly.”
Those 398,000 images weren’t excluded from my final choices because they failed technically but for other reasons. The balance didn’t feel right. I missed the moment. The colours didn’t harmonize.
In many cases, the story didn’t work or the mood wasn’t…well, it just wasn’t. And sometimes they just feel too…safe. Or repetitive, like a crappier version of something I’ve already done better but tried to replicate because that’s just easier than risking something new.
And yes, sometimes I’ve tried to do something new with my technique and it didn’t go to plan. But I learned something, and that’s valuable.
Those 398,000 rejected images weren’t failures. They’re my most faithful teachers; I needed them to get me to the 2,000. But they weren’t successes, either. And every now and then, I send a couple thousand of them to the bin so their 1’s and 0’s get recycled into fresh efforts, saving me some much-needed hard drive space.
As I have grown as a photographer, my keeper rate (can we stop calling it that?) has worsened. I return from my trips with more image files and fewer that make the cut. Can you identify with that?
Far from being a bad thing, it might be important that your keeper rate is diminishing. It should be something we strive for.
That it takes more effort to get to an image that really works for you might mean you’re taking more risks and trying new things. If that were the case, you’d probably have more “sketch images”—more photographs that are a swing and miss. They’re important, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be showing them at the next club meeting or adding them to your portfolio.
If you love every photograph you make, you’re probably not trying hard enough—not risking enough.
Fewer keepers might also mean you’re getting pickier, that you’re refining your sense of what works and what does not as you seek to make photographs that express something specific or reflect who you’re becoming as a photographer.
Fewer keepers probably means your tastes are evolving and that you’re getting better at your craft and are less willing to accept the images you would have once been thrilled with. You’re growing, and that should be celebrated.
Photographers who follow their curiosity and ask, “I wonder what would happen if…?” will answer that question by pressing the shutter, then react to the results and try again and again. They are photographers who make a lot of sketch images and follow the process further because they aren’t put off by the stinkers. And because they get so familiar with the so-called failures, they’re photographers who become more courageous and less tentative in their efforts. They know that 99 efforts are a small price to pay for the one image that isn’t just sharp but poignant.
Growing into excellence in this craft is a long game. It begs patience from us—and perseverance.
It takes time to wrap our imaginations around the way the camera sees light, space, and time differently than we do.
It takes time to remember where all the buttons and dials are and get our fingers there without thinking about it.
It takes time to learn who we are as photographers, what we like and don’t like, which subjects we want to focus our efforts on and what we can leave for others.
Yes, it takes time. But what’s the hurry? Isn’t so much of the joy of this found in the process, in the looking, in the playful attempts at something better (or just different) than what we’ve done before? Isn’t so much of the pleasure found in the making, not just in the having made? Isn’t that part of the delight?
Keeper rates are a terrible metric to measure progress. They make us rigid where we should be free and hedge our bets and play it safe. I suspect they also make some very good photographers feel like they’re moving in the wrong direction when, in fact, they’re getting closer to discovering their voice.
Art-making is not measured with rates and ratios. You don’t measure wonder and delight and the thrill of discovery or expression. You feel it.
The goal of art-making is not efficiency. It’s not subject to cost-benefit analyses. It can’t be reduced to “this is what I kept and this is what I discarded” as if the one had nothing to do with the other. The one leads to the others. It’s necessary. It’s not waste; it’s process. It’s the price extracted for wanting to make something more than just good but truly your own. It’s the grease on the wheels of your creativity.
So screw your keeper rate. Make peace with your so-called failures. Celebrate them. Learn from them. And whatever you do, don’t let them make you feel like you’re on the wrong track. My “keeper rate” is getting worse every year. But I’ve never been happier with my photographs.
For the Love of the Photograph,
David
The biggest challenges for most photographers are not technical but creative. They are not so much what goes on in the camera but what goes on in the mind of the person wielding it. Light, Space & Time is a book about thinking and feeling your way through making photographs that are not only good, but truly your own. It would make an amazing gift for the photographer in your life, especially if that’s you. Find out more on Amazon.
Comments
Thank you for the important comments/Item that hit my inbox.
Whenever I open my Capture One catalog, I delete my old images, which I thought were good to keep a few years back. And yes, my keepers are going low.
I was anxious about that, but your point is important to remember.
Thanks for reminding us to keep moving forward and ignore the diminishing returns (so-called keepers).
My keepers are probably you first discards not imported at all . I am starting on my journey…. and every day is a school day ….
The more I practice my craft the better I get ….I started the year with 20,000 images in my catalogue and I have shot maybe 3,000 more but I only have 9876 …. sometimes fresh eyes and a new perspectives you can suddenly see the wood from the trees
I am shooting for the love of photography as a keen amateur. I do not belong to clubs, but set a high standard for myself and always try to improve with every shoot to the best of my ability and gear. At the moment I am going through my catalogue and weed as much as I can. That becomes easier and easier. It gives me great pleasure to keep your advice in mind and I am happy with my progress. If I try a new genre with a new lens, my keeper rate is low, but otherwise I am satisfied.
My “keeper rate” was higher before the advent of digital photography. Kodachrome film + processing cost about 35 cents a frame where I lived at the time. So I did not “explore” a subject with multiple exposures. I studied it carefully and left with two or three exposures. A few days ago I spotted a bald eagle. I took 42 photos. Because it’s an unpredictable creature, I wanted to be certain of at least a couple of “keepers.” If I was still shooting Kodachrome, I would have been satisfied with a small fraction of 42 exposures. Probably my digital keepers are better than if I were shooting film…simple probability suggests this is the case.
But my keeper rate has gone down.
I can only calculate my keeper rate from the past 25 years. It’s roughly 0.8%. But, I’d venture to say that overall it would be closer to 0.5% if I could include my early years. I was a military photographer from 1980 to 2000 (20 years). All of my early stuff is on file with the Navy and the National Archives, so I no longer have access to it. I’m sure my keeper rate was low in those early days. I do see the numbers improving over the last 10 years. Software is improving and it’s possible to recover missed shots. It doesn’t happen often but a couple times, I’ve been able to recover a photo originally marked as trash.
2:30 am there is pounding on the door of the unit I was in – with shouts of “they are out”. I was travelling in the Lofoten Islands with a group of extremely talented photographers, lead by a very talented photographer. This was our last night and the Northern Lights had not shown in the week we were there. In a fog, I pulled on outer clothes mumbling the technical settings our photographer had drilled into me. Out in the night it was so much more challenging – in practice we had been on the beaches – now I was in the middle of the town with bright lights all around me. Everyone was out and everyone was shouting the lights are there, no, now they are there! Whirling to capture them I took countless shots – and in reality only one was deemed worthy by me. Family and friends tell me is it amazing. I know it is not going to win awards. My keeper rate is extremely low. And yes, I can get discouraged – but thank you David for reminding me that it is about learning…….
“Sketch images” is a great term. Thanks for coining that.
To me sketch image denotes learning rather than ‘failure’, as may easily be thought of with the term ‘keeper rate’.
I’ll keep ‘sketch’ in mind out there and when returning for that next try, or for that light position.
Hello David,
It might be interesting for you to go back and see how many times you write about this theme. It’s clearly something that’s on your mind a lot. I’ve never calculated my rate, either actually or as a rough approximation. I’ve recently returned from a 3-week trip to India, led by a photographer based in San Francisco. At our orientation meeting they asked about our photographic goals for the trip. I responded with “if I could go home with 5 photos I truly loved and thought were exceptional, that would be great.” And I meant that. I shot roughly 3000 photos on the trip. I definitely got my 5. And enjoyed every moment of photographing. I guess I see it as it takes what it takes. Sometimes 1 shot makes it. Sometimes it takes 50 or 100. Sometimes even that many won’t yield something. I’ve never thought to count. It’s all in the doing.
I think, over time not only your keeper rate is shrinking, but the rejected photos become better as well …
Hi David, I am somewhat relieved to hear that your keeper rate is getting worse – so is mine. I also have more than 400.000 sharp pictures on my hard drive and I just started to get a little frustrated, when I realized that there are not many 5 star results that remain. So it’s nothing to worry about – how nice! I’ll just go on having fun taking them all!
Awesome article!!!
Couldn’t agree more and it applies, of course, to all forms of art! 🥰
Good to see you “keep at it”… Hope the leg keeps improving as well….
Thanks again for your shared musings!
Take care!!! 😁
Hello David,
I’m so grateful for your thoughts on “keeper rates”. I have for a long time now ceased to give credit to those who boast about the fantastic keeper rate of such and such “great new combo”. That the percentage of keepers should decrease as our skills improve is a new concept, but how thoughtful! Thank you also, David, for the sketch image approach. I can’t apply it constantly (e. g. on birding tours) but whenever feasible, critically reviewing sketch images, printing them, brought me to produce improved “keepers.”
I learned photography with film and while I have switched to digital, I still think in terms of film rolls. Thirty-six shots, seventy-two shots, etcetera. The only exclusion to this would be wildlife when I use burst mode. I’m not a professional, I’m not selling my images, I do this as a hobby, so I can afford to be picky. I volunteer my time to several organizations and even then, I’m not turning in hundreds of images. My keeper rate isn’t bad, but it’s not anywhere near even two percent and could go below that if I really weeded the garden.