The Dilemma of Cropping

If you’re interested in when and why to crop, you may want to read this scroll.

Here, I’ll share the philosophy behind my approach to cropping.

I will not be discussing technical aspects, such as comparing megapixels to silver halides. This, in my opinion, has nothing to do with cropping. But what then does?

Composition and certain constraints. These are the only aspects I am governed by when facing the dilemma of cropping.

We live in a cropped world

Our eyes only see a section of a bigger picture. When we look at the world through a camera’s viewfinder, ground glass, or viewing screen we see an even smaller section of the world.

I love square format in photography. In drawing, on the other hand, format doesn’t matter to me. It’s important to note that I also love horizontal and vertical panoramic formats — in both drawing and photography.

In film photography, we are limited to half frame, full frame, medium format, and large format. In digital photography, the sensor is the limit. In drawing, there are fewer limitations in terms of paper sizes. It is actually safe to state that there are no limitations at all. You can get, probably, any paper size, within common sense of course — A4, A3, A0, square, portrait, landscape, etc. But still, you are limited to a size or format.

So, tell me, what is a paper format if not a cropped surface?

But, it looks to me like the term ‘cropping’ is applied to photography only. If you draw on A3, then cut it down to A4 — no problem at all. But if you shoot square and make the final image landscape — that’s where the debate starts. My question is — why? Why, when you crop in drawing, does no one even mention it, but in photography, we have two opposing camps? This doesn’t make any sense to me.

The world we see is already cropped! 

Composition

In drawing (or painting), the paper or canvas size depends on our idea and vision of the final piece. So, we make sketches, preliminary drawings, studies, etc., and work on the composition. We develop the idea further to the point when it’s ready to take its final form. At that point, we’re more or less happy with the composition and know the size and format of the paper (or canvas, wall, or whatever surface) that will suit the idea best.

For argument’s sake, let’s say I choose landscape half A1. I go and buy a full A1 because that’s the nearest format to what I need. Then I either cut it in half along its longest side or finish my work first and then cut it. Exactly — I just crop it.

If you decide to paint or draw on a wall or your task is simply to work on a set format, then cropping is not an option. In that case, you have to compose to suit the size and format you are working on. This is a slightly different approach. It’s more demanding as you have to develop the idea to fit a certain size and format.

I apply the same rules to my photography. As I love square formats and shoot medium 6x6, my goal is to compose in-camera. This simply makes sense to me. If I want to have a square image and use the square film frame, why wouldn’t I compose square at the shooting stage? Pure logic. The same applies to any other film format I shoot, be it 35mm or 9x12. I always compose for the format I use and do my best not to crop.

However, there are a few exceptions here.

Exception 1: Lens limitations

Say, the composition would’ve been perfect if the scene I am looking at filled the entire frame. But I can’t come closer because the perspective will change, or the image wouldn’t be in focus — I have a fixed lens, no zoom. I’m presented with two choices here: walk away, or compose accordingly and shoot the scene from a distance where the perspective works or the scene stays in focus, and then crop it during post-processing. I will always choose the latter unless the composition wouldn’t work.

Exception 2: Situational Barriers

Again, the composition would’ve been perfect if only I could get closer to the scene. But I couldn’t. There’s a barbed wire, electric fence, minefield, and a crazy fire-spitting dragon in front of me. Walk away or take the shot and crop later? Of course, compose accordingly and take the shot! Then crop in post-processing. How often do you get a chance to photograph an angry dragon?!

Exception 3: Second Thoughts

At first, genuinely, I thought my composition was perfect. That’s why I took the shot. Then, on a monitor or in the darkroom, or a few sips of whiskey (or brandy) later, I realised that the composition could and should be improved. Here comes the cropping. This can then be either a square or panoramic format… or whatever works best for composition.

Or… I have my 6x6 camera and am looking at the scene that would work perfectly in a landscape format. There’s no chance in the world it would look great as a square. What should I do? Go buy or build another camera to take this shot? Nah… The fire-spitting dragon wouldn’t wait that long. So, I just compose accordingly, take the shot, and then crop in post-processing.

Cropping: Is it a waste?

I also heard people say that cropping was a waste — a waste of money, film, or paper. What can I say? One of the universal laws, the Second Law of Thermodynamics, tells us that heat flows from hot to cold, order naturally turns into disorder, and—pay attention here—every action produces waste. Photography, being an action, inevitably produces some waste, as the Second Law dictates. And yes, whatever ends up in the bin is a waste of resources… and money too. But we cut paper or film not because we enjoy wasting it or throwing away money, but because it’s part of the creative process (which is where the Second Law comes into play) as we explore different ways to express our visions and ideas. It’s a learning curve too. With film, an abandoned idea, a missed shot, or a lost moment can cost us far more than a ‘wasted’ cropped portion of film or paper.

Also, if we went down that road — are preliminary or failed sketches a waste of paper? They often end up in a bin too. Are unsuccessful shots a waste of film? No, it’s a big NO. They are not. Not to me, at least. They are the part of the process. The wrong or unexpected result is still a result. Learn from it. Use it. If the process takes you to the next level, it’s not a waste. Quite the contrary — it’s a gain.

Crop to the story

Cropping is a tool for me. It’s not something I avoid; I just don’t use it when it’s unnecessary. I don’t use it to save a bad image—I use it to improve a good one. Cropping is a deliberate, conscious choice aimed at establishing the right composition and enhancing the story.

Remember, at the end of the day, the final print—your story—is all that matters.