People, Are They Essential in Architectural Photography?
The German Pavilion in Barcelona. Including the person walking across the terrace shows scale.
I recently read an article on Dezeen featuring one of the great living architectural photographers, Hélène Binet. As an architectural photographer myself, I found the article intriguing, but it was the readers' comments that truly captured my attention. An extended discussion unfolded around the subject of including people in architectural photography.
This is something I've been contemplating for a while. I've always seen great architecture as being designed around its intended purpose. Often, when viewing images of remarkable buildings, I find myself pondering the absence of human interaction. This is peculiar because architectural renderings seldom omit human elements.
What struck me as stranger was the recent trend in podcasts and interviews where photographers expressed disinterest in including people in their photos. "We're bored of the blurred person walking through a scene," they say.
Conversely, the comment section I mentioned earlier suggested that those lamenting the lack of human representation in modern architectural photography were from the architectural and design sectors.
Why the disparity of opinion? Why would photographers seemingly act contrary to the desires of the architectural community? Immediacy is certainly a factor, as noted in the comments. Blogs and social media demand rapid delivery of project visuals for digital consumption; otherwise, studios can't promote their work effectively and be seen to be ever-present. It's quicker to photograph an empty design than to arrange models and the accompanying release paperwork.
Purely minimalist design, bordering on art, often captures better without human interaction. However, minimalist designs are rare for photographers because they are more art forms than practical living environments in modern society. Modern life adds too many layers to allow minimalism for the masses.
Homes, workplaces, and social spaces appear to be obvious subjects for photography, where the inclusion of people seems natural. Yet, somewhere along the timeline, including people has become less desirable. When educational establishments are photographed, they are rarely devoid of life, which is commendable. A school or university would be unappealing to potential students if presented as an empty, imposing structure rather than a nurturing place of education and social development.
There are buildings where photographing 'use' can be tricky to balance aesthetically. Airports, for instance, can be chaotic or devoid of life, with no happy medium. Security requirements often necessitate quieter times for photography, which is why airports are frequently photographed just after completion, before general use, or late at night during no-fly times.
The aforementioned article also touched on photographer style. In the past, architects and designers often worked with select photographers whose creative styles aligned with their studio's ideals. Think of Le Corbusier and Hervé or indeed Daniel Libeskind and Peter Zumthor working with Hélène Binet. Today, perhaps due to the 'consumption' problem, many photographers excel in architectural photography, but few are distinguishable by style. Geographical differences in style certainly exist. In the USA, bright, even lighting regularly appears the norm, with little acknowledgement of shadows in building design. Scandinavian photography leans towards natural shadows and muted tones, likely due to the naturally muted lighting often encountered in the region. Scandinavian designers exploit environmental strengths, and their photographers effectively convey this balance of nature and built environments. Interestingly, the photographers opposed to including people in the aforementioned podcasts were mostly working in the North American region. Could the decision to include people in architectural photography simply be a geographical preference?
Another issue with including people in architectural photography is cost. Engaging an architectural photographer is an investment. Whether a small architectural practice or a large multinational, hiring a photographer incurs costs. Licensing the images incurs costs. Modelling fees increase costs. Removing the human element within the photos can potentially allow for more licensed images within a budget or save significant revenue. However, we as photographers are more than happy to direct volunteers in a shot if there are any available, so don’t discount the notion of people in your images due to potential model fees.
Ema Peter is currently on many architectural practices' wish lists for photographers. With a seemingly Midas touch in contributing to architectural studios winning awards, Ema admits to a full calendar and doesn't undertake her own processing and retouching. Many architectural photographers, including myself, dream of such demand necessitating a standalone retouching team.
Interestingly, Ema's work often includes a human element in whatever global market she’s working for. Most of her award-winning shots feature people. I love that. As an architectural photographer, I believe our built environment should be shown with us interacting with it. Wherever possible, I try to include people in my work. Whether to show scale or use, I believe people enhance an architectural photography project rather than detract from its design.
Ultimately, the choice of whether to include people in architectural photography seems to be as much about individual style and intention as it is about geographic norms and financial considerations. Each choice we make as photographers adds a layer of narrative to the story we're trying to tell through architecture. As we continue to navigate these choices, we must consider how they impact not just the aesthetic but the context and connection of the spaces we capture.
