The Problem of Photographic Burnout and Dealing with the Artistic Comfort Zone

Marian Hill
she/her
Published in
5 min readFeb 21, 2020

The rain outside comes down hard. My shoulder is bruised from strong arming roughly 30 lb. of lighting equipment from the supply room on the fifth floor to the ground level parking garage; I rub at the sore as I wait for my ride. I drag my five foot strobe light case, a rolling bag of camera equipment, and two light stands into the trunk of an Uber driver’s Chevy Impala.

Product Lighting from Studio Lighting: Products to Portrait (Image by Marian Hill)
Studio Set Up (Image by Marian Hill)

There is little to no room in the shooting bays on campus, and it is well passed 8 p.m. I don’t have many other choices in terms of how I will get this project done before midnight. On the drive back home, the Uber driver asks what kind of project I’m working on.

“Oh, you know. Studio lighting, still life shots. Pretty boring stuff.”

But I’m thinking, “why in the world did I take a studio lighting class online?”

Arriving home, I rearrange my apartment into a makeshift photo studio, shoving around the books on my table, unplugging lamps from my bedroom, all to create a bare minimum set.

What I wouldn’t give to be ankle deep in muddy jungle floor with all the equipment I need on my back, and not have to redo my living space just to get the right shot.

Hindered by a lack of skill in the studio environment, I’ve faced more struggle this term in my classes than ever in my photography major. I’m running on empty fumes to keep up with my projects and feeling the burnout of photography.

Burnout in photography can be caused by a number of things, such as stress that can lead to exhaustion and cynicism.

For me, it is a combination of my own choices that make the burnout harder each quarter. It’s been taking on the workload of a double major, my pursuit of making my passion my job, and pigeonholing myself into travel photograph.

I’ve had my eyes set on being a travel photography for a long time now. And this is the cause of my tunnel vision photography, which is when one masters a style or form in the medium and doesn’t equip themselves for much else.

It’s not necessarily the worst thing for a photographer to be. But tunnel vision photography is what has made my past quarter as an art student frustrating. Every week seems to descend into the chaos of studio work, drowning in stress over how to work lighting equipment or set up a backdrop. The process makes me feel incompetent.

The psychological stress adds to the creative wall in front of which I stand daily at school. Good Therapy, an online service which connects people with counselors and shares information on mental health, explains that artistic frustrations can come from an inability to be confident in their work. And for those who make a living from art, “even a short-lived creative block may cause anxiety, doubt, and fear.”

My aversion to studio work turns me into a one-trick pony.

Portrait Lighting from Studio Lighting: Products to Portrait (Image by Marian Hill)
Studio Set up (Image by Marian Hill

It is common for artists — especially photographers who must find their place among hundreds of thousands of other professionals and amateurs — to find their creative niches and stay within them. Explorations of other forms can halt when one finds what they are good at. This is a problem for artists across all fields, from students to professionals to amateurs.

Photography students at the Savannah College of Art and Design, which are required to pick a concentration when entering the major, often fall into the lackluster feeling that photography as homework can have. The idea initially is intriguing as a senior in high school who can’t wait to have art projects as assignments, but as time passes and it becomes the norm. Making one’s passion their college degree can dampen the excitement of art school.

Elyse Cox, senior photography student at SCAD with a concentration in commercial photography, when asked what kind of work she does promptly responded, “I don’t even know.”

And a lot of photography students feel this way at SCAD despite having a concentration-based major. Many can’t or don’t feel the need to define themselves as one kind. SCAD’s overall curriculum incorporates other forms of art within and outside of one’s major, making it difficult to stick to a single path of photography.

Maybe this burnout is a side effect of making one’s passion in art their career. And maybe that same burnout can get in the way of branching into something new.

Cox says that as photographers in school they are, “very limited to our resources,” which makes large scale studio work, like fashion photography, sometimes intimidating when it isn’t your concentration. Some, when confronted with time consuming studio projects, can find that they lack the energy and the mindset to complete it.

Creative limitation can lead to burnout, and its normal for non-student artists too. Of course, burnout does not have to necessarily come from an academics.

Le’ Andra LeSur is a SCAD alum and New Jersey based artist who focuses on black female identity. Her work, which she has been recognized for in Refinery 29 and Artprize, consists of videography though she received her B.F.A in photography.

LeSur says that she experiences creative burnout daily. She’s found that reading can relieve herself of burnout as well as challenge herself as an artist outside of her medium.

“Words are extremely important in how I understand the work that I create on my own so I tend to push myself to read close to 15 to 20 books a year while also practicing journaling,” says LeSur.

The photographer and literature have always been inadvertently connected. For Michael David Murphy, digital director of the annual Atlanta Celebrate Photography events in the fall, also says that reading helps in his artistry as well.

“I read as much as I can, see as much as I can, and engage as much as I can,” says Murphy.

As a dual major in both photography and writing, I’ve understood of my creative abilities that balance is ultimately what I need. The only way to keep my passion for photography going to to allow myself to step away from time to time. Writing allows me to do this.

Most photographers in this new generation are finding that mastering one field isn’t going to cut it in terms of being a successful, happy artist. And burnout in photographers, especially for those who dabble in many kinds of styles and subject, is relatively regular and not something to be discouraged by.

Always drive yourself to explore things outside of the artistic comfort zone.

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