A version of this article was published on DPReview.

When was the last time you tried something new in photography? When did you last challenge yourself beyond what you thought you were capable of?

Even outside of landscape photography, I like my comfort zone as much as the next person. Whether that’s ordering the same coffee from the same cafe each morning. (A strong flat white, thanks.) Or listening to the same bands I loved when I was a student.

And as landscape photographers, once we know enough about exposure and composition, it’s easy to slip into simply going through the motions. Like using the same tried and true techniques and revisiting familiar locations. It’s a safe, low-risk approach.

Slow and steady refinement can be incredibly powerful—especially when it’s compounded over time. But when we pursue our craft on autopilot, we risk becoming stagnant. And settling for mediocrity. 

To counter this and gain new ways of seeing, I like to give my photography a push every now and then. Last year, I gave street photography a crack. I picked up a Fujifilm X100V and hit the streets of Melbourne. Then, I froze. I didn’t know what I was doing. 

Sure I knew about exposure and not to blow out the highlights. And I knew about depth of field and freezing (or intentionally blurring) passing pedestrians with the right shutter speed.

But I was out of my depth. I felt like–and became–a beginner again. I found it both humbling and rewarding to grow my photography toolkit and solve new challenges.

I watched hours of YouTube vlogs through the streets of London, Malta and Istanbul. I tested new composition ideas—like window reflections and embracing harsh contrast in direct sunlight. I even shot jpeg for the first time in eight years.

It was a hard slog at times, with many missed frames and soft shots. But I kept at it. With each outing, I honed my eye and expanded my capabilities. And when I travelled to Vietnam recently, I captured some street scenes I’m proud of. 

I remain a landscape photographer at heart. Yet throughout this experience, I’ve learned several lessons and skills that I’ve been able to apply in my landscape photography. And you might be able to too. 

Let’s jump in.

1) Adapting to the conditions as they unfold

We often travel to locations—both new and familiar—with preconceived ideas about what we want to shoot. Perhaps we’ve tracked the clouds all day and the sunset is set to explode in colour. Or recent rains should mean the waterfall will be flowing nicely.

But then we arrive. And too many low clouds roll in, blocking the evening light. Or the sheer volume of rain has churned the river into rapids.

It’s easy to become frustrated. Particularly if we’ve come a long way. Or this is our one chance to shoot the scene before we have to return home.

I know all too well that in photography, expectations create limitations.

Yet street photography has shown me a different approach. On the sidewalk, conditions are constantly changing. The experience is fast-paced and highly variable. 

Which means your only option is to adapt. Yes, you can find a compelling frame and wait in place until a stylish subject eventually walks past. (And I have done that.) But the best balance, I’ve found, is to adjust to the conditions and follow your nose.

For example, rain might momentarily dampen my spirits. But when it passes, it will have provided colourful reflections and deeper blacks. (Not to mention, it will clear out tourists in scenic spots and offer me more open frames to work with.) 

Weather and light are largely out of our control. So as creatives working in external environments, we need to adapt to and work with what we’re presented with.

Landscape lesson: Go with the flow. If the sunset fizzles out, don’t pack up your bags—look for textures and patterns in the rocks that eliminate the sky. If the river is flooded, look for abstract details in the flowing water or shift your attention to the surrounding trees and ferns. You may not always get the shot you had envisioned—you might get something better.

2) Learning that high sharpness is better than low noise

Clean, noise-free images are overrated. I know that might sound like heresy. But it’s one of the most important lessons I’ve learned from street photography.

Out on the street, moments pass you by, often arising as quickly as they disappear. You might see a flicker of a smile in a dimly lit storefront. Or hear a classic car zipping down the street.

So to capture these fleeting frames, I often push my ISO to 2000 and beyond. In the fast-paced nature of street photography, having a faster shutter speed at the ready allows me to freeze moments before they disappear.

Likewise, I’ll regularly use smaller apertures too. I might default to around f/5.6—instead of the X100V’s possible f/2, at the expense of letting less light in—to help ensure my moving subject falls within the greater depth of field.

But hold up there young whippersnapper, I hear you say. I photograph quiet scenes in nature on a tripod. I would never go above ISO 200.

Fair point. Let’s consider two examples.

Scenario A: You’re shooting a waterfall. It’s overcast, the light is soft and you’re happy with a one-second exposure for silky smooth water. But what about the foreground ferns swaying in the breeze? You’ll need a faster frame so they’re not blurry. You could try widening your aperture—but then you’ll run into depth of field issues, like trying to focus stack moving objects. I’d rather bump my ISO to get the faster frame with my foliage in focus and avoid unnecessary hassles in post-processing.

Scenario B: You’re shooting a seascape at dawn. The sky is exploding well before sunrise and you’re able to get a clean, balanced exposure at two seconds. But to retain texture in the moving water, the shutter speed will need to be closer to a quarter second. So I’ll bump my ISO to 640 to get the faster frame, capturing the force and energy of the crashing waves.

Landscape lesson: Sometimes, you will need to make compromises. A sharp image at a high ISO is better than a blurred one at ISO 100. Too often, the fear of noisy images becomes a bigger impediment to good images than the noise itself.

3) Not letting imperfection impede your photography 

I once believed the aim of landscape photography was the pursuit of perfection. To capture the perfect sunrise. The perfect waterfall. Or the perfect wave.

But street photography, among other things, has truly shattered that falsehood.

Strolling down sidewalks, my eye would dart towards appealing features like colourful doors or historic buildings down cobbled lanes. But then I’d notice parked cars, rubbish bins or garish signs that detracted from the scene.

I often wouldn’t take a shot as I was stuck in the mindset that one imperfection ruined the entire photo. Yet over time, I decided to take a shot regardless, even if it was only a reference frame to revisit later. As I did, I began to accept and work with these distractions.

Perhaps I could blur out the bin with a wide aperture. Or take a few steps to reframe the shot without the car. Or obscure the sign behind a tree. Or darken the distractions and subdue harsh colours in Lightroom.

Photography isn’t about perfection. It’s about using your creativity to overcome challenges as best you can.

Landscape lesson: The world around us—both natural and urban—is often messy and unscripted. So work with distractions when they arise. Try wider apertures to blur messy foregrounds. Or switch to a zoom lens to isolate your subject from competing elements.

4) Learning to pay attention, it’s free

Cities can be, and often are, chaotic environments. 

Beyond the buzz of sensory inputs swirling around you, you also need to be aware of pedestrians, driveways and trip hazards on the sidewalk. And that’s before you even start looking for and taking photos.

So to help pay attention to the scenes unfolding around me, I’ve been approaching street photography as a phone—and headphone—free zone. (That is until I inevitably wander too far and need to consult my local tour guide, Google Maps.)

Being present helps me notice what I otherwise might have walked past. Colour contrasts. Patterns and reflections. Light and shadow. With a single prime lens and no tripod, I’m less encumbered and free to take smaller shots as I see them. 

So in landscape photography, when you step out of your car to embark down the trailhead, zip your phone away in your bag. Give yourself the mental space and solitude to take in all that you experience. 

Follow your eye as it’s drawn to different scenes. Perhaps it’s the way that backlight illuminates moss-covered branches. Or the interaction of flowing water and solid rock. 

Before expanding your tripod, take handheld test shots of those features and forms. Then once you’ve gone through the freer, trial and error type process, you can be more methodical. Go through your technical workflow to finesse your focal length and dial in the optimal shutter speed and aperture.

Landscape lesson: Be present when you enter an environment. Remove external distractions and freely take snapshots as new scenes catch your eye. Sometimes your ideas won’t work. But sometimes, they’ll be a compelling capture of your experience. 

5) Seeing beyond the sights

Let’s say you’re planning a photography trip to a new destination. You’ll likely have a few sights in mind that you’ve already seen on social media and you might search online to check out what hikes are nearby.

But photography can be so much more than recreating what came before.

Now don’t get me wrong. I find Instagram tags and Google Street View incredibly powerful as I research new locations. And I’m just as guilty as the next photographer to take a sunrise snap of Yosemite’s Tunnel View when I passed through in 2016. 

Yet street photography has reinforced and strengthened the notion that just as compelling frames await discovery off the beaten path.

Recently, I explored the top sights in Ho Chi Minh City, like the old post office and opera house. But then I made time to wander down lanes and narrow alleys. And I sought out distant cafes where I’d then walk around the suburbs to gain a richer understanding of the city beyond the main attractions.

Throughout these wanderings, I didn’t always find a portfolio image. (The inherent uncertainty in this approach will produce more misses than hits.) But when I did find a frame I liked, I walked away with a more memorable image for my efforts.

Landscape lesson: Check out the main sights. But make time to go beyond those. Hike less popular trails or explore forests near where you’re staying. You don’t always need a giant sea stack or a thunderous waterfall to make a strong image.

Final thoughts

I’m not a street photographer. I’ll escape to my comfort zone of nature away from the chaos of the city any day of the week. And I have high regard for pros who’ve honed their craft over the years. How they can enter unfamiliar cities to capture compelling frames from the get-go is a feat I truly admire.

Yet I have enjoyed the challenges that street photography presents. For me, it’s about the learning process and starting from scratch. It’s about pushing myself beyond what I know. It’s about trying—and sometimes succeeding.

So if you’re a landscape photographer looking to expand your skill set, I encourage you to become a beginner again. 

Perhaps you might try woodland photography, even though you’re more familiar with open vistas. Or you might learn about something further afield like portraits, starting with your family and friends.

I can’t guarantee you’ll become the next Henri Cartier-Bresson or Helen Levitt. But I can guarantee you’ll be a more rounded landscape photographer for trying, failing and growing.

Want to sharpen your skills and take stunning landscape shots? Check out my 8 essential guides and lessons, packed with insightful theory and practical tips.