It takes a while to learn to use your camera like a photographer for whom the camera feels natural in the hands, to move your fingers across the buttons almost unthinkingly, with intent and purpose. It takes even longer to think like a photographer for whom thoughts about composition and the look and feel of the image come in a way that feels intuitive.
Photographers seem more excited to lean into the former than into the latter, which is unfortunate if you believe that your thoughts as a photographer must be thunk before you decide what to do with your hands.
Our photographs are a result of how we think about the world, the scenes in front of us, and how our perceptions of those scenes can be translated into a picture by our creative use of the camera.
If you and I were photographing together and you asked me, “What are you looking for?” your actual question would be, “What are you thinking?” It’s not how I use my eyes that you’d be inquiring about, but what I think about what those eyes are seeing. And when I’m alone, sitting in the presence of some wild thing and failing to make the beauty translate to the picture, I usually ask myself the same kind of question: “How should I be thinking about this?”
When the process is challenging, it’s not my eyes that aren’t working; it’s my mind. As a starting point, it sometimes helps to think about specific things and look for them. One of those things is contrast.
The contrasts or differences in the scene are often something we can build a photograph around. That could be a contrast of tones or of colours. It might be a contrast of shape, texture, or line. A contrast between the sizes of elements, perhaps, or the magical contrast of light.
It might be a contrast of ideas, what we usually call juxtaposition. Organic and inorganic in one frame. Hard and soft. Old and new. Ancient and modern. Predator and prey.
And it could also be contrasts that will only really come to life when I amplify them with the camera. A contrast of moving subjects against stationary backgrounds made clearer with a slow shutter speed. A contrast of focused elements against those I allow to blur with a wide aperture. Even the contrast between highlight and shadow might look one way to my eye, but magnified in effect by my exposure choices.




In the images above, which contrasts do you identify? Can you find the colour contrast? The contrast in size? The contrast of ancient and modern? What contrast do you see in the image of the vultures?
It is not necessarily true that the stronger the contrast, the stronger the photograph, but I think it’s certainly the case that more interesting contrasts captivate us. I don’t know why, but I know that we’re drawn to the differences. And I know this:
The fewer interesting contrasts I see in an image, the fewer mood and story hooks there are on which to hang my emotions and my imagination.
Not all contrast is helpful. We’ve all looked at a scene where the light is hot and contrasty, but not in a good way. Some colours contrast in an unappealing way. And there might be other contrasts in a scene that pull the eye, but not how you’d hoped. And maybe that’s what I’m getting at: contrast naturally pulls the eye. You can use that intentionally or pretend it’s not there, but it won’t pull the eye any less without you making some decisions. Maybe that’s where wider apertures and shallower depth of field help. Maybe a longer lens to exclude those unwanted contrasting elements. Perhaps this is when you convert the image with clashing colours into black and white.
Before you mash that shutter button or spin the dials, it’s worth asking which contrasts you see in the scene and if there’s a way—either with the camera or in post-processing—to draw my attention to them. It might just be that all you need to do is notice them and follow whichever instincts take over from there, but I know that learning to see is about learning to notice, and we notice things we think about.


I am amused by the contrast of the “have and have not” in the image on the left (click it to see it larger on my blog). Without that contrast, the image wouldn’t have the interest it does or the appeal to my humour. The image on the right is a contrast of size and age, but also of action: attentive vs. asleep. That’s where the story is.
So think about contrasts. Maybe look at some of your photographs today and seek out the differences. Contrast isn’t everything, but it’s one element I see in the best images. And when you’re sitting down doing post-production, asking where the interesting contrast is and how you might want to amplify it is a worthy question.
Without differences between elements, we have nothing to look at, no hook on which to hang our interest. The more interesting those differences, the more intentionally you work with them, the stronger your photographs have a chance of becoming. The more you think about this, the more you’ll see it.
For the Love of the Photograph,
David
Comments
David,
MENTOR OF MY DREAMS
Thanks for your mentoring article on contrast—an evergreen reminder that makes me eager to get back into editing from my last week’s trip deep into Southeastern Oregon.
During that trip, I was just learning my new Oly OM-1 System camera and accompanying 100–400mm (x 2 for crop sensor), a chunk of lens that is really a bit too heavy for me. But I soldiered on.
On the last night, I dreamed I was in an outback cafe. I took that lens out of its case and noticed the lens inside the barrel had completely turned to a slurry of water and sand. Heartbroken, I just stared at it in my hands, not knowing what to do.
Then you came in and sat down at the counter and ordered coffee and breakfast. I recognized you right away and exclaimed, “David! My mentor!”
“What seems to be the problem? Here, let me take a look.”
You fixed it before your breakfast arrived and handed it back to me.
I stared at the shiny, new lens in awe and gratitude.
Which is just about how I always feel about you.
Awe at that jackel photograph (dingo? Wilddog?)
And gratitude for a mentor moment about being aware of contrast.
Another thought provoking article David. I think like so many when we hear contrast, we immediately gravitate to black and white, dark and light, As a creative who is always looking to learn more of his craft, you opened my minds eye to that fact that the possibilities are endless when it comes to contrast.
Thanks for the article David. I believe contrast is the most important element in a photograph and I always try to capture that. I have come to understand the importance of it by its absence…if that makes any sense. 99% of the photographs I don’t like lack contrast. I won’t say that contrast is enough but I will say that contrast is a must!
Hi David – as ever, loved your essay. Always thoughtful and challenging! I’m a sensory physiologist and when I hear ‘contrast’ I always think of ‘lateral inhibition’; a vital part of how we sense our environment. You can google it easily … or perhaps try the first part of one of my own (photo)essays entitled ‘who are ya?’
https://prem-kumar-in-my-view.com/who-are-ya
that describes the phenomenon before going in to discuss the London Olympics and Dune Part 2!
I saw your talk at the Photography Show earlier this year where you kindly signed your latest book for me! Take care – all the best.
I’ve been doing this for years, such as someone smoking in front of a “No Smoking” sign, or an “adult” store immediately adjacent to a candy store. I love that stuff.
Thank you, Sarah! I’ve replied to you by email.
Hello David! Thank you again for such helpful insight to enhance my experience of creating images. I am following up on an invitation I sent a few months ago to share your journey after your amputation in the Journal of Humanities in Rehabilitation. We are a unique academic publishing model that co-creates content with individuals with lived experience. Your reflections during the time of your recovery would lend themselves nicely to a piece for our narrative writing section.
Thank you for considering- happy to talk further with you!