
Japanese rowan tree in a thermal area, Hokkaido, Japan. A complex photograph that I discuss in depth below.
Hokkaido has become known for its minimalist landscapes, with trees, fences, or other objects isolated against the snowy winter backdrop. These zen-like compositions can be striking and beautiful, and I made my share of sparing, super-simple photographs there, following in the footsteps of Shinzo Maeda and Michael Kenna.
But there are many ways to photograph any location. My co-instructor on our Hokkaido trip for Visionary Wild, Toshiki Nakanishi, has lived in central Hokkaido for 20 years, and his images tend to be more complex and dramatic. Check out this image, for example – taken from his house! (With a telephoto lens.) Or this amazing photo.
Since I had never been to Hokkaido before, everything was new to me, and I tried to approach things with an open mind. Although I looked forward to making some of those simple, clean photographs à la Maeda or Kenna, I have my own way of seeing things. Everyone does.
And I often like to make images that are more complex, where there are a lot of things to look at, to discover, and keep viewers engaged – as long as the photograph doesn’t cross the line into visual chaos and confusion.
When teaching composition, I emphasize keeping things simple, because the most common mistake I see – by far – is including too much. For every photograph I see where I wish that the photographer had included a little bit more, I see ten where I think they’ve included too much. Simpler is usually stronger. Less is more. Anything unnecessary dilutes a photograph’s impact. The ability to pare a composition down to its essentials is, I believe, a vital skill for every photographer.
Paring things down could produce one of those clean, sparing, zen-like compositions. But not necessarily. You could make a photograph that’s quite complex, with lots of different elements blended together into the frame, but which still includes only the essentials – the bare minimum necessary to convey your idea, and tell the story you want to tell.
To do that – to make images that include only what’s indispensable – you need to first figure out what’s really necessary. Start by asking yourself what caught your eye in the first place. What made you stop and get out your camera?
Be as specific as possible. Maybe what caught your eye was a tree. What about the tree? Was it the shape? The color? The texture? A pattern? Part of the tree? The juxtaposition between the tree and another object? The more detailed your answer, the easier it becomes to decide what’s really important.
Then, try to go a little deeper, and ask yourself why – why do you think you were attracted to this subject? If something caught your attention, it may be that you recognized, at an unconscious level, the potential for the scene to convey a mood, or tell a story you’d like to tell. See if you can figure out what that is. Even a vague idea about a mood can be helpful.
Then, once you’ve identified what caught your eye, and maybe what kind of mood you want to convey or story you want to tell, try to distill the composition down to its most vital elements. That means including only the bare minimum necessary to convey your idea, and no more.
In this next photo, there were three essential elements I wanted to include: the tree, the snow bank below, and the sky with falling snow. I wanted the image to be simple, clean, and sparing, and saw an opportunity to tell a story about a lone, delicate tree surrounded by snow and emptiness. There were some other trees just out of the frame to the right, which weren’t necessary, and would have actually detracted from that story, so I kept them out. I wanted to include some of the lines of the snow bank to the left of the tree, because I felt that added something – some design, and maybe a touch of elegance. And I wanted to include some sky to show the falling snow, and make the tree relatively small in the frame to convey its isolation. But not too much sky.
Those parameters determined how I framed this scene. This was a situation that lent itself to making a sparing, simple composition, and I like how it turned out, and the feeling it conveys:

White birch in a snowstorm, Hokkaido, Japan. This is one of the cleaner, simpler compositions I made in Hokkaido, but I hope there’s enough detail here to hold people’s interest.
The photograph at the top of this post, on the other hand, is much more complex, with branches going every which way, berries across the frame, and patterns of snow and bare earth in the background. But although this is a more complicated image, I tried to pare the composition down to the essentials – only what was necessary to tell the story I wanted to tell.
The berries were the first thing that caught my attention. But I also saw patterns in the branches that could give the image some design and structure. And I also liked the idea of including the snow and thermally-heated ground in the background; the snow because it could convey the season, as well as provide a nice, clean backdrop for the tree and berries; the bare ground because it could add another note of color, and convey something about the place. In other words, instead of just being a photo about a tree with red berries, it could be a photo about a tree with red berries in a thermal area in winter. That was a lot of stuff to try to meld into a cohesive composition, but I thought it might work.
So what was essential in conveying those ideas? Some branches, some berries, some snow, and some of the bare earth. I didn’t necessarily need a lot of any of those elements – just enough. Also, I needed to emphasize the patterns and designs in the branches, berries, and background, and integrate the foreground and background in a cohesive way. For that last part it was important to find the exact right camera position, where the patterns in the background would complement the patterns in the foreground, rather than clash or compete with them.
Patterns and repetition can help any photograph, but are especially important with complex scenes. Adding repetition and rhythm to the image helps give it structure and order, making it easier for people’s brains to make sense of the scene, and not get lost and confused in the complexity.
What wasn’t essential in this scene, to me, was the top, bottom, or sides of the tree, or the top of the hillside in the background, or any of the things that might give the image more context. I think context is overrated; in fact leaving out context can engage the viewer more, making them think about what they’re looking at, and adding some mystery to the photograph. Also, if I had included the sides, top, or bottom of the tree you wouldn’t really notice the patterns in its middle, which were, to me, a big part of the story. And including any of the tree’s edges would pull the viewer’s eye out toward that edge, and away from the more interesting stuff in the middle.
So although this is a complex photograph, I don’t think it includes any excess – anything that’s not essential for conveying the ideas I wanted to convey. And I hope it “reads” well; that is, the ideas come through clearly, despite the complexity. In a photo like this I’m trying to make the image rich and complex, but avoid crossing the line into visual chaos and confusion.
Below you’ll find more images from Hokkaido, both simple and complex. I like making all kinds of photographs, and Hokkaido was the perfect place to explore different compositions and photographic ideas.
— Michael Frye
P.S. Another key aspect of any photograph is directing the viewer’s eye and emphasizing the elements you think are most important. You can do that with light and composition, but also with processing – especially dodging, burning, and other local adjustments. In my Lightroom webinar next Saturday, March 8th, called Painting With Light, I’ll give in-depth demonstrations on using Lightroom’s Masking Panel to subtly (and sometimes not-so-subtly) guide viewer’s attention, take them on a visual journey through your image, and enhance your photograph’s message. Click here to sign up or learn more.

Grass, snow, and clouds, Hokkaido, Japan. Another very simple composition, dependent on a momentary juxtaposition of the patch of blue sky above the grasses.

Waterfall and snow-covered branches, Hokkaido, Japan. This is definitely more complex. I made some simpler compositions of this scene, but kept getting drawn back to these snow-covered branches in front of the waterfall, and finally found a composition that I thought integrated the branches and fall cohesively, without too much clutter.

River and snow-covered trees, Hokkaido, Japan. I’d call this moderately complex. The snaking line of the river creates a strong graphic element that helps organize the image. Without that, it would just be a mass of tree branches.

Trees and snow, Hokkaido, Japan. No, this isn’t a drone photo! It was taken from a bridge, looking down onto a forest below. Although there’s a lot going on here, the fan-shaped pattern of trunks helps organize and simplify the composition.
Related Posts: Winter in Hokkaido; Simplicity vs. Complexity in Photography
Michael Frye is a professional photographer specializing in landscapes and nature. He lives near Yosemite National Park in California, but travels extensively to photograph natural landscapes in the American West and throughout the world.
Michael uses light, weather, and design to make photographs that capture the mood of the landscape, and convey the beauty, power, and mystery of nature. His work has received numerous awards, including the North American Nature Photography Association’s 2023 award for Fine Art in Nature Photography. Michael’s photographs have appeared in publications around the world, and he’s the author and/or principal photographer of several books, including Digital Landscape Photography: In the Footsteps of Ansel Adams and the Great Masters, and The Photographer’s Guide to Yosemite.
Michael loves to share his knowledge of photography through articles, books, workshops, online courses, and his blog. He’s taught over 200 workshops focused on landscape photography, night photography, digital image processing, and printing.
Micheal,
Really beautiful shots! I especially love the Rowan tree image. It has a kind of Japanese woodcut vibe. The red berries pull you in, and then you see the images in the background which might be traditional huts or rocks, and these give it depth and a bit of mystery.