How constraints fuel creativity in photography
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I love cooking. I could happily stand at the stove every day (in fact, I do).
At home, we have a fixed monthly food budget. As the end of the financial month approaches and the budget starts shrinking, we do everything we can not to touch our savings. We buy only what’s absolutely necessary and rely on whatever is left in the pantry and freezer.
Just yesterday I prepared one of those “leftovers” meals, as we call them. But if you had seen what we ate, you’d never guess that this multi-course dinner came entirely from what I found in the kitchen.
We had home-made fries, tofu-chickpea burgers, and three different salads made from fresh and preserved vegetables. I even considered dessert, but that would have been too much.
What cooking on the budget taught me about creativity
During dinner we talked about how, when the list of available ingredients shrinks, my creativity reaches sky level. That’s when I cook the most inventive (and, according to my partner, very delicious) meals.
My mom learned to cook when store shelves were empty (the end of communism in Poland). Food was rationed, and dietary variety was almost unimaginable.
Back then she climbed to remarkable level of her creativity and fed us with simple, but always delicious and healthy food. To this day, she’s a master in the kitchen.
Raising kids methods vs creativity
I don’t know if you have children, but you’ve probably heard of “stress-free parenting” - a model that doesn’t involve any kind of discipline: no punishment, rewards, limits, prohibitions, or commands.
Children are allowed almost anything, based on the idea that rules and constraints irreversibly weaken their innate creativity.
This model has gained many critics who equate it with parental helplessness and argue that - rather than creativity - it leads to entitlement, lack of self-control, and dependence.
You might wonder: what on earth does my monthly menu and raising kids have to do with photography?
And yet both examples strongly reflect the world of art.
The psychology of creative limits
According to psychologists, constraint is one of the most powerful engines of creativity.
In Creativity from Constraints, psychologist and artist Patricia D. Stokes argues that it is not unlimited creative freedom but rather self-imposed frames and limitations that lead to great art.
Constraints force new combinations, reinterpretations of rules, and redefinitions of problems. They drive exploration in search of possible solutions.
And this increases the chance of originality.
It’s a very simple cognitive mechanism: without any limits, artists (cooks, entrepreneurs) reach for the most obvious solutions.
Similar thing applies to kids: not limiting them by any form of healthy discipline leads to chaos.
That’s why, for example, when I have an unlimited budget, I often choose predictable dishes that repeat weekly. But when the budget shrinks, I invent wildly unconventional combinations that often can’t be recreated later.
How great artists used self-imposed rules
A great example of how constraints generate style and breakthroughs in art is Picasso. His painting periods were essentially conscious acts of imposing rules on himself, tightening them, and changing them regularly.
Picasso worked in series, exploring to the limit the means available to him (or rather, those he allowed himself).
Within each period this helped him intensely investigate form and develop style.
Picasso defined his color palette, Monet the source and direction of light, Stravinsky compositional rules, Kundera narrative structure.
All four (and many others) achieved originality through long-term exploration of a narrowed field within their discipline.
Constraints in photography practice
Introducing constraints as a tool for developing form or personal style works equally well in photography.
External constraints (materials, tools, rules, budget, environment) and internal ones (style, compositional rules, form, aesthetics) not only provide structure and direction, they also reduce decision-making friction, one of the most common speed-breakers in the creative process.
I experienced this kind of liberation myself when I moved from a full set of lenses covering 24–400 mm to the Fujifilm X100V with a fixed 23 mm lens (35 mm full-frame equivalent). Reducing my gear to minimum was the best thing I could do to find my compositional style (and to save my back from injuries).
Over the years I’ve practiced exercises built around constraints: focal length, color, or light direction. Their impact is undeniable. These exercises triggered a new way of seeing reality.
The results of many were so satisfying that I integrated them into my daily photographic practice (minimalist composition is one of them). Combined with a clearly defined subject - the North Sea - they became a serious foundation for my style.
Build your style through daily practice and limitations
I didn’t always have such a clear approach to finding direction in my photography. In the beginning I often lacked even a simple idea of what and how to practice.
With photographers facing the same challenge in mind, I created the 100-Day Photography Programme, offering 100 prompts and assignments.
The program is divided into four parts: Art of Noticing, Mastering Visual Aspects, Developing Style, and Finding Inspiration.
It’s designed to bring regular creative practice into daily routine through tasks that stimulate creativity (including systematic use of constraints).
Each of the 100 prompts is accompanied by one of my photographs showing how I approached the task, plus guidance on how to achieve certain effects or apply techniques.
Completing the program will not only boost your creativity, it will also reveal recurring motifs in your images. That’s an excellent foundation for further exploration in search of your own themes, direction, and style.
