Through the Lens: Tips for Photographing Iconic Landmarks Creatively

Through the Lens posts offer a practical take on how I approach travel photography in the real world. The travel photographer’s most important skill? Flexibility. We shoot landscapes, portraits, architecture, wildlife, events, macro, food, fashion, fine art, sports—sometimes all within a 20-minute span. We document. We chase light. We tell stories in a single moment.

We often have to shoot handheld in low light, and yet we lug tripods across the globe.

These posts aren’t about gear or settings. They’re about how to see—how to think like a photographer when the scene in front of you is a glorious, chaotic mess that evolve faster than you can change your f-stop.

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Seeing the Unseen in the Over-Photographed

There are some places—like the Taj Mahal, the Sydney Opera House, and the Duomo in Florence—that have been photographed so many times you’d be forgiven for thinking there’s nothing new left to capture. And yet, as travelers with cameras (and perhaps a stubborn streak), we keep trying. This post is about that effort. About trying to see something familiar with fresh eyes. Each of these photos captures an architectural icon, instantly recognizable. But the thread that ties them together isn’t just novelty—it’s perspective. Framing, timing, and a willingness to shoot around, through, or beneath the obvious made these images feel like mine. Because that’s the challenge of travel photography: not just documenting the places everyone knows, but showing how you saw them.

1.  Sydney Opera House – Shape, Texture, and Shadow

Some landmarks are so iconic, so frequently photographed, that capturing something “new” can feel like trying to reinvent the wheel—with a camera. The Sydney Opera House is one of those subjects. Its sculptural sails have graced countless postcards, Instagram feeds, and travel brochures. So when I set out to photograph it, I knew I didn’t want to replicate what I’d already seen a thousand times. I wanted to make something both instantly recognizable and visually fresh.

My strategy? Shoot in the “in-between” light. I headed out in the late afternoon—long before golden hour when the sky still held its deep, even blue, but the sun was angled enough to cast structure-revealing shadows. I composed the shot tightly, filling the frame with the swooping roofs. Then I underexposed the image by about a stop and a half. The idea was to control the highlights while letting the shadows fade into deep obscurity.

That exposure choice allowed the brilliant white tiles of the sails to stand out in stark contrast to the rest of the scene. Their curved surfaces caught the light just enough to highlight texture—those subtle, scalloped patterns on the roof that often get blown out in normal exposures. In post, I leaned into the effect, crushing the shadows at the base of the building into black and muting the sky just enough that the white of the Opera House seemed to glow.

The result is an image that plays with geometry and contrast—recognizably Sydney, but with an emphasis on structure, texture, and tone rather than the typical wide, harbor-focused panorama.

What Could Have Made It Better?

There’s a strong argument to be made that including a touch of the surrounding harbor—just a hint—might have grounded the scene without sacrificing the abstraction. Completely removing the base removes the sense of scale and location, and although that was intentional, some viewers might crave a bit more context. Also, a slight shift in angle might have made the central sail better aligned or layered the shapes even more dramatically. But overall, for a “seen-it-a-million-times” subject, I think this image does what it set out to do: it makes you look again.

2. Florence’s Duomo – Framed in Shadow, Revealed in Light

Florence’s Duomo is a cathedral that doesn’t just dominate the skyline—it sneaks up on you. One moment you’re threading through tight alleyways, enjoying a gelato, and the next you’re stumbling out into Piazza del Duomo, craning your neck to take in an architectural marvel. That surprise, that visual ambush, is what I wanted to capture in this photograph.

Most shots of the Duomo step back—often way back—to capture the whole dome rising gloriously above the city. But this image came from the opposite instinct: rather than stepping away, I stayed tight. Really tight. I wanted to show the Duomo as it so often first appears to a pedestrian: in pieces, in slices, framed by the darkness of the alleyways that surround it. I didn’t actually plan this shot in advance. I was heading back to the main square after a quick gelato break when I turned a corner and caught this glimpse. I recognized a great shot, and I raised my camera.

The alley provided a natural frame of deep shadow that allowed just a sliver of the façade and that unmistakable dome to stand in sharp contrast. The ornate marble geometry of the cathedral glows in the light, sandwiched between two towering, shadowed walls. It feels like peering through a keyhole into something vast. And in many ways, that’s what Florence does—it reveals itself gradually, like a whispered secret you’re not sure you’re supposed to know yet.

This shot isn't just about the Duomo—it’s about the experience of finding the Duomo.

What Could Have Made It Better?

This was a reactive shot, not a composed one—and that shows in a few small ways. A step or two to the right might have opened up more of the dome or reduced the overlapping rooftops at the bottom of the frame, adding clarity to the composition. Also, the image could have benefited from slightly more separation between the dark framing buildings and the cathedral to create a cleaner silhouette. That said, sometimes spontaneity wins over perfection, and this shot captures a feeling more than a structure—and I’m OK with that.

3. Taj Mahal – Through My Eyes, On My Phone

There are few landmarks on Earth as instantly recognizable—or as over-photographed—as the Taj Mahal. And for good reason. That iconic shot, dead center, with the Taj reflected perfectly in the long rectangular pool? It’s a masterpiece of symmetry and design. And you should absolutely take it. I have described elsewhere the great lengths I was willing to go through to get the classic shot.

But after you’ve taken that shot, challenge yourself to find another way in. That’s what I did here. This photograph is as much about the act of photography as it is about the subject. The composition layers the classic view of the Taj as seen on my phone against the blurred, overexposed marble backdrop of the Taj itself. The image on the screen is vivid and contained; the image beyond the screen is soft and massive. It’s a contrast of scales, of realities.

We’re so often behind the camera, documenting everything, that we disappear from our own narratives. This shot brings the photographer—and by extension, the viewer—back into the scene. It says: I wasn’t just pointing at something beautiful. I was here. I was part of this moment.

The framing of the fingers around the phone adds a sense of human presence. The viewer sees not just the Taj, but the act of seeing the Taj. That tiny reflection of experience—of being a witness—is the photo’s heart.

This shot screams “I was there!” without actually needing to scream “I was there!”

What Could Have Made It Better?

While the concept of this image is strong, the execution could have been more refined. The phone is tilted ever so slightly, just enough to throw off the geometry of the Taj within the screen. A tiny adjustment in alignment could have enhanced the visual harmony.

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In the end, finding a fresh angle on the world’s most photographed landmarks isn’t about avoiding the postcard shot—it’s about going beyond it. It’s about asking what drew you there in the first place, and how your lens can reflect that personal pull. Sometimes it’s light, sometimes it’s framing, sometimes it’s just being lucky enough to notice something others missed. But always, it’s about the experience of being there, of seeing it for yourself. And maybe that’s the best reason to keep chasing new ways of seeing familiar places—because travel isn’t just about what you see, but how look at it.