Telling Stories Through the Art of Framing: Maximising Possibilities in a Single Shot

As a highly discipline photographer, I often practice the approach of getting everything right in-camera. That also means being one of those meticulous individuals who goes through the length of things in my workflow and seeks to maximise every ounce of image quality straight from the sensor. Generally speaking, I am not an advocate for cropping unless it’s strictly to achieve a non-native aspect ratio. Because it will usually throw the balance of an image off. However, from my years of experience serving in the realm of high-level commercial shooting, adaptability is just as critical as technical perfection.

There are definitely times (when shooting personal projects) when the rigid rules of purist photography would reward the inner artist in me but knowing when to bend to achieve greater advantage is a crucial skill to have as a commercial hospitality photographer. In this article, I aim to share one of my core philosophies on the art of framing: maximising possibilities through a single, meticulously crafted master frame.

In commercial campaigns, clients frequently need to cater to multiple usages—from horizontal web banners to vertical social media stories, social media campaigns, and even billboards. That means in order to keep the production costs manageable while maintaining a premium standard, we have to rethink how we shoot. This is where the concept of creating a master frame comes into play. By carefully planning for a single shot, we can yield images with highly crafted lighting and intentionality across the board, and ultimately, creating an image that can be cropped and adapted without losing its essence.

For this to work, you need to think of composition as a series of building blocks. A wide-angle perspective can easily be decomposed into multiple distinct elements. Some of these blocks contain the primary subject, some contain the surrounding context, and some may even turn the context into a subject in its own right. These elements break down even further into sub-elements. For eg: A wide architectural shot that contains a person may turn into an environmental shot or even a lifestyle portrait. I believe every image is built from these blocks, and if planned correctly, each block can stand alone as a compelling image in itself.

For this very reason, this concept is usually not possible in a run-and-gun scenarios as it requires static highly plan frames executed in a deeply controlled manner. The more control we have over the placement of individual elements—and the better we become at identifying them during the styling phases—the stronger the overall master image becomes. Everything must be intentional. Not to mention, we also need the image quality to be at its highest level possible to crop it.

Now, why did I think this would work. If we look at this from a technical standpoint, it entirely supports this approach, especially if we see where most images are being used. If we start with a 50 megapixel frame, it is entirely possible to output multiple 5 megapixel crops in various aspect ratios and still yield very usable frames. While a pixel-peeping purist might point out that the crop lacks the optical compression of a dedicated focal length or the image lacks the pixel bite, the reality is that the target audience is unlikely to notice or care anyway. Practically, even if you print, five clean beautifully lit megapixels are more than enough for a crisp 6x4", an email blast or even social media, and web usage. Furthermore, with the sheer power of modern AI enlargement technology, achieving an A3 size print from the cropped file is completely within reach.

Main frame. So, how many images are actually hidden inside a single frame?

Let’s take the first image in this article as an example. This frame is intentionally composed in a way so that it works perfectly for different variation of aspect ratios. When composing the master frame, the process involves continuously pulling out to add more and more context. You do this right up until you pass a specific threshold: the point beyond which the context begins to dominate the subject. In this case, the final master shot was framed in this manner both because 1) that was the absolute farthest I felt I could pull out to maximise context, while still perfectly isolating the subjects within the frame and also 2) that is the furthest I could stand using the widest lens I had for this composition without the elements being out of place. One point perspective was also intentionally chose so that all the elements are aligned and will not be imbalanced once cropped.

Wide aspect ratio for banners

Closer crop for normal point of view

Vertical ratio for social media or posters

Achieving multiple aspect ratios in a single frame.

Now as for the second frame, what I find most interesting is that each of the smaller elements—or specific crops—works perfectly as a standalone composition.

Starting with the tightest crop.

Pulling out for more context.

What about a little more?

And the final master frame.

From what we see above, theoretically in a perfectly composed frame, if we had infinite resolution, we could keep subdividing and cropping endlessly. But practically, we are, of course, limited by sensor resolution and the unbending rules of optical physics. Shrinking pixel pitches on modern sensors mean that a lens's maximum aperture and its diffraction-impacted aperture are rapidly converging. To truly maximize the resolution of a sensor for heavy cropping, you eventually have to invest in excellently designed, well-corrected, fast lenses and shoot them wide open to squeeze out every drop of optical data. This means that despite having being long passed the point of "resolution sufficiency" for most commercial delivery, being able to endlessly crop is still not practically possible.

Let's just assume in a perfect world, even if the above discussed approach is possible, it will still end up causing its own set of challenges. In some ways, the skill of extracting these sub-frames is almost as crucial as capturing the initial image. In fact it might just be more difficult because now you are limited to whatever that is already captured. Being able to see a secondary frame of a larger composition requires highly trained eye. If the person who is doing the crop is unskilled, the resulting image may feel awkward and may even impact the original photographer's reputation. Besides, if the person doing the crop is highly skilled. It also opens up a philosophical debate regarding Intellectual Property. If a photo editor or art director crops your original photo down to a much smaller, entirely different frame, whose photo will it be? Does the credit belong to the person who pressed the shutter and aimed the camera in the right general direction, or to the editor who actually "saw" the new composition hidden within the master frame?

Lastly, understanding the use of these "building blocks" to create a final composition is paramount. Knowing exactly when you’ve gathered enough context—and recognising when too much context overpowers your subject—is an indispensable skill to refine, regardless of the technology, resolution, or lenses involved. While my personal preference will always default to maximising image quality right out of the camera, I do practice this philosophy of delivering these adaptable master frame in my commercial shoot. Because I strongly believe it elevates the value of a shoot at the same time also allows flexibility for clients to adapt the contents for their usage—allowing the content to grow further than its initial specs.