Chasing Authenticity in Photography

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about authenticity. I try to live that way — be genuine, keep things real — and I like spending time with people who do the same.

But today, I’m thinking about authenticity in photography. At its simplest, authenticity means “the quality of being real or true.” Easy to say, but not so easy to define when it comes to photography. There’s a trend you’ve probably seen — images labeled “No Filters.” You’ll find them on Instagram or Threads, usually taken on smartphones or point-and-shoot cameras, proudly claiming purity. But here’s the thing: those little cameras are doing a ton of behind-the-scenes processing. They automatically set the white balance, contrast, exposure, sharpening, make color adjustments and more — basically making a bunch of creative decisions for you. Sometimes it works beautifully; sometimes it doesn’t. Either way, “No Filters” is a bit of a myth. Those photos aren’t as untouched — or as “real” — as they appear.

So what does an authentic photograph actually look like? How do you take something three-dimensional and full of life and represent it honestly in two dimensions?

Finding Balance Between Real and Ideal

When I’m out on a golf course with my cameras, I’m mostly gathering raw material — light, composition, atmosphere — trying to tell the story of a hole. But back in the studio, things can get tricky. That’s when I’m studying an image closely and realizing that a little digital “course repair” might be needed.

Nature isn’t perfect — not even when maintained by the best superintendents in the business. There are divots, worn spots, and the little scars that come from daily play. Those things might not matter on the course, but they can pull attention away from the beauty of the scene in a photograph. My goal is never to make a course look different — it’s to help it look the way it feels when it’s at its best. That fine line between creativity and authenticity is what keeps this work exciting. A great photo has light, depth, and a sense of place that makes you feel like you’re standing right there. That’s what I’m always chasing.

A Shoot That Got It Right

A project I shot a couple of years ago — photographing both of Indian Wells Golf Resort’s 18-hole courses — really reminded me what that balance looks like. Indian Wells is one of the finest properties I’ve ever had the pleasure of shooting. The setting is gorgeous, the conditioning is top-notch, and even though the courses see a ton of play, the maintenance crew keeps everything pristine. And they do it quietly — I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an invisible maintenance staff! For this old guy with a camera, it was paradise. I shot with every lens in my bag — even pulled out the 400mm a few times to bring the mountains closer for dramatic effect. That’s a little creative license, sure, but it doesn’t break the truth of the image. The goal is always the same: create a photograph that makes people feel like they’re standing there, soaking in the view. If I can do that — if someone sees one of my photos and thinks, “I’d love to play there” — then I’ve done my job. That’s what it’s all about.

I hope you’ll take a moment to see Indian Wells Golf Resort through my eyes. [CLICK HERE]. Who knows… it might just end up on your must-play list.

A Quick Note on Shooting in Camera RAW

Most professional landscape photographers — myself included — shoot in Camera RAW mode. That just means the camera records all the raw data from the sensor without making any adjustments. It’s as close to “No Filters” as you can get, but it also puts all the creative responsibility squarely on the photographer. A RAW file by itself looks dull — flat, lifeless, uninspiring. The magic happens in the editing room, where you shape the image into something that captures the light, mood, and emotion of the real moment. That process is both the gift and the challenge of digital photography. After sixteen years of doing this, I still learn something new almost every day. And believe me, I’ve made my share of over-edited mistakes along the way. Looking back, I sometimes laugh (and occasionally cringe) at how heavy-handed I was early on.

But growth is part of the process, and thankfully, so is grace — both from the clubs who hired me and from myself. Authenticity, it turns out, isn’t just about the photograph. It’s about intention — being honest about what you see and what you want others to feel. And when all those things line up, that’s when the work feels truly real.