A Landscape Photographer’s Dilemma: Should I Capture Locations or Unique Compositions?

A white barn with red doors stands in a snow-covered field, surrounded by a wooden fence. Snow blankets the ground and trees, with mountains and a colorful sky in the background.

It’s 7:30 PM. Sunset begins in Marblehead and a full moon starts to rise, right over the cast iron skeletal structured lighthouse, built in 1896. I’m standing next to several other photographers at Fort Sewall — a great vantage point to view the lighthouse from — and we all have our lenses pointed in exactly the same direction. Same spot. Same composition.

Marblehead, Massachusetts is a beautiful seaside town, incorporated in 1649 and exceedingly rich in history. In Marblehead’s historic district, more colloquially referred to as “old town,” homes are generally 200 to 300 years old, colorful, and found within winding roads, frozen in time. It is an artist’s dream to explore and channel as a template of expression. There are many photogenic areas to shoot in town, beyond the lighthouse and historic district. Sunrises can be dazzling as the first light of the day can be seen over Marblehead Neck, many times accompanied by a spectacular array of pinks, purples and oranges. The harbor contains thousands of vessels and oh how picturesque it is. The list goes on.

As a photographer, the most intuitive thing to do is pick up a camera and start shooting. To shoot where you live, or perhaps down the road where a nicer view exists. You can wait for the sky to change colors and line up the sailboat in the background, or for an incoming storm and start clicking away with purpose and excitement. You feel lucky when conditions are just right. But what are we chasing and why? We live in an era where social media rewards shooting the familiar.

The same iconic locations. The same angles. The same compositions that earned someone else a flood of engagement.

Four horses stand and run in a snowy field near a wooden barn. One horse is in the barn doorway, while the others are outside on the snow-covered ground. Trees and a hillside are visible in the background.

I have been there more times than I’d like to admit and if you’re a landscape photographer — or any kind of photographer, really — you probably have, too.

I started to question all of it a few years ago, after a portfolio review with the executive director of the Griffin Museum of Photography (I would highly encourage portfolio reviews and constructive criticism!). Afterward, a question started percolating:

“Am I shooting what I want? Am I too tied to location? Am I shooting what I think society wants and rewards most?”

A lighthouse and sailboat masts partially obscured by thick orange mist at sunrise or sunset, with golden clouds filling the sky.

As landscape photographers, especially those of us selling prints, we eventually face a crossroads: Do we become known for a specific place, tying our name to a location that defines our brand, or do we develop a unique photographic style that transcends location, so people recognize our work no matter where we shoot?

Both paths can be commercially successful but they’re very different ways to build a photography business and to create a body of work you’re proud of.

A person wearing a helmet sits on a dirt bike on a grassy hill under a cloudy sky, with a large rock in the foreground. The scene is in black and white.

There’s immense selling power in associating yourself with a specific place. When you become “the photographer of Marblehead,” or “the Vermont photographer,” you tap into a ready-made audience. Locals, tourists, and art collectors seek you out specifically because you represent that place. SEO advantages help drive more traffic to your website and your images evoke an emotional connection through memories, nostalgia and local pride.

However, there are caveats to this approach; a location-based brand can also pigeonhole you into a specific location, making it difficult to step away from that comfort zone and shoot elsewhere. It can also be difficult to differentiate yourself, especially if there are many photographers that shoot the same town. Lastly, outside of your region, your appeal is likely to taper.

Three boats are docked in the foreground, while two people paddleboard in the misty water behind them; several boats are faintly visible in the foggy background. The image is in black and white.

The alternative is cultivating a recognizable style that transcends location. This is challenging. I have been shooting for 20 years and am just beginning to crack that code; it’s just not something that jumps off the page. It is trial and error, being yourself, minus external expectations, and being willing to look in the mirror and not only be comfortable with that image but profoundly knowing and understanding it. It is finding meaning in things and following your gut.

When channeling yourself through photos, you are left with photos that are unique and true. It is easier said than done. Sometimes it is the way light is used. Other times an editing style. The possibilities are endless. If it were as simple as following directions, the world would be full of Picasso’s. Maybe it is. If people see a photo and instantly say, “That’s definitely Mark Katz’s work,” you’ve created a brand that’s not tied to geography.

Silhouettes of four children standing under a large tree beside a body of water, with boats and mist in the background. The scene appears calm and serene.

There are pros and cons to this approach as well. The freedom to shoot anywhere without being tied down to a specific location can be liberating. Also, art lovers love photographers with a consistent style. Staring at an Ansel Adams masterpiece, Andreas Gursky’s “Rhein II”, or one of Steve McCurry’s powerful storytelling photos is so Earth-shatteringly moving. Those personal styles of artistry are captivating as they tap into our psyches and strum emotional chords that we didn’t know existed. Not being limited to a place or subject allows room for creative growth, as geographic constraints can force one to ignore visuals that don’t fit the narrative. As such, there is potential for higher pricing should one choose to go down this path.

Conversely, it takes longer for customers to latch onto an abstract “style” than a specific place. There is less of an SEO advantage as people tend to search for places rather than styles. Locally, people may prefer familiar scenes over artistic interpretations. Collectively, these headwinds can put a damper on gaining traction, earning accolades and increasing visibility.

One glaring question is why are so many of us pushed towards shooting locations? In a world full of individualism and independence, why is location perceived to be the end game? Society and the algorithm have pushed us toward locations and social media has helped facilitate that dynamic. Platforms like Instagram reward recognizable places, trending locations and viral compositions everyone’s seen before. Photographers feel immense pressure to chase iconic spots because that’s what racks up likes, comments, and algorithm boosts. It is what drove me to initially shoot certain scenes and was a powerful source of inspiration for a long time.

A small white barn stands alone in a snowy field, with bare trees and dark pine forest in the background under a cloudy sky. The image is in black and white.

From a sales perspective, shooting well-known spots can generate instant attention and drive people familiar with that location to purchase “that place” for their wall. But you risk blending into a sea of similar images. And as algorithms churn endlessly, yesterday’s viral shot quickly becomes today’s cliché.

Can you be known for a certain location and have your own style? Absolutely. The sweet spot is often a mix, whereby infusing your personal style into a homebase location makes it feel uniquely yours. There is a sea of talented photographers in Marblehead and in Vermont, where I shoot frequently. The collective artistic acumen represented in these two locations is mind blowing, as I’m guessing some readers know of, or have favorite photographers in these areas. Tiptoeing that geographic and artistic line has been done locally, but differentiation is difficult with so much talent condensed into so few square miles.

Let’s explore ways of shooting beyond the location, using my hometown of Marblehead as an example: the harbor is quite picturesque. A postcard picture could be taken by walking to Crocker Park, which has a magnificent view of the harbor filled with boats. Many well-composed photos could be taken from this spot (and have been), and one could integrate themselves into the Marblehead photography scene by finding more spots like this in town and accumulating a stunning portfolio.

A tall lighthouse stands on a snowy, rocky shoreline under a cloudy sky. Sunbeams break through the clouds, illuminating the lighthouse as dark water and rocks fill the foreground. The image is in black and white.

To have a signature style means that someone could blindly identify your shot across different locations. In the case of the harbor, how would someone be able to do this? Here are a few ideas to create a bit of originality: on a windy day bring a long lens and take a long exposure shot of a boat. The movement of it, combined with the stillness of identifying background elements will surely make you raise a brow. Bringing non-standard equipment could also introduce a means of introducing style.

For example, a lens water cover could create some interesting visuals. Maybe if the light is just right, a wide angle or aerial black and white image could tell a provocative story. Similarly at night, imagine a single vessel cruising across the harbor and taking a photo that only exposes for its lights. There are infinite possibilities for how one can go about obtaining aesthetics that cater to non-conformity, but it must come from a place deep within.

Aerial view of nine colorful small boats arranged in a diagonal line on calm, dark water. The boats are spaced apart, with some blue, green, and white hues visible against the contrasting water surface.

In terms of finding that balance, ask yourself who you want to be known as. Are you the voice of a location or the creator of a style? Does your portfolio scream “one place” or does it showcase a unified artistic vision? Mix iconic with obscure. Even in a famous location, find quiet corners nobody else photographs. Tell your story. Clients connect with photographers who explain why they shoot what they shoot.

Three people and a dog stand on rocky terrain at sunset, silhouetted against a pastel sky with the sun low on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the scene.

In the end, there’s no single “right” path. Some photographers thrive as ambassadors of their chosen locations. Others find joy and commercial success in a style that transcends place. I am currently straddling that line but acknowledging it has been helpful in my own photography journey, and I hope it does the same for you. But whichever you choose, remember: the most powerful photographs and the most sustainable photography businesses are rooted not in chasing trends or likes, but in the unique way you see the world. So whether you’re known for Marblehead or for your unmistakable way of seeing light, keep asking yourself: am I shooting what society wants- or what feels true to me? Your answer will shape both your art, and your business.


About the Author:
 Mark Katz is a landscape photographer based in Marblehead, MA, passionate about capturing authentic scenes and helping photographers navigate the crossroads of creativity and commerce. See more of his work on his website and Instagram.

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