Marie
Why These Photos Are Perfect (Just Not the Way You Think)
Every year, I look forward to the International Photography Awards winners being announced.
Not because I'm hunting for perfect composition or flawless lighting - though those things are there. I look forward to it because this competition asks a different question than most: What does this photo do?
What's the story behind it? What was the photographer trying to accomplish? Did they succeed?
That changes everything.
Most photography competitions reward technical excellence. Perfect exposure, perfect composition, perfect moment. And those things matter - don't get me wrong. But the International Photography Awards go deeper. They ask: Does this photo matter? Does it make you feel something? Does it change how you see?
The result is a collection of winners that is stunning, yes - but also dérangeante. Unsettling. Challenging. Fascinating. These aren't photos you glance at and move on from. They grab you and don't let go.
These Photos ARE Perfect - Just Not "Pretty"
Here's the thing that hit me looking at this year's winners: these photos are technically perfect. The composition is there. The light is right. Everything works.
But they're not "pretty" in the safe, decorative way we often think of as "good photography."
They're perfect for the story they're telling. And that's so much more interesting.
Let me show you what I mean.
Benedetti Marco - 1st Place Analog/Film Portrait
Photo: "Sandstorm" by Benedetti Marco - 1st Place Analog/Film Portrait, International Photography Awards. Shot on Nikon F90x, analogue photography.
The composition is flawless. Symmetry. The mountains in the background draw your eye directly to this gorgeous face in the center. The tones, the grain of the film - technically, this is a masterclass.
But what makes it powerful isn't the technique.
Look closer. The women in the background are masked. Hidden. Their faces completely covered.
What's the story there? Are we in Afghanistan where women must hide their faces? Or somewhere cold where it's practical? I don't know. The question is intriguing - but what I see in this photo goes deeper.
This image shows who women are when you actually look at them and remove the masks.
Whatever the mask is - a literal ski mask, a burqa, or even the California uniform of shorts and crop top that says "I'm just a pretty beach girl and nothing more." When you remove the masks we wear (or are forced to wear), you see beautiful, strong, determined eyes.
That's why this image is so powerful.
It's not just a pretty portrait. It's a statement about seeing people - really seeing them - beyond whatever covering or persona they present to the world.
Abdelrahman Alkahlout - Editorial/Press Photographer of the Year
I can't show these photos here without warning you first. Alkahlout's work documents the human cost of war in Gaza - children in hospitals, families in grief, the raw, unfiltered reality of conflict. They are almost unbearable to look at.
But that's exactly why they won. That's exactly why they matter.
These photos do what photography is supposed to do when it matters most: they make you see what you might otherwise turn away from. They bear witness. They refuse to let suffering happen quietly, invisibly, forgotten.
This is not pretty photography. This is not comfortable photography. But it is essential photography. Alkahlout risked everything to document what the world needs to see, even when - especially when - it's hard to look at.
The technical skill is there. The composition is there. But what makes this work powerful isn't the perfection of the craft - it's the courage to point the camera at what matters, even when it breaks your heart to do it.
Pedro Luis Ajuriaguerra Saiz - Special Photographer of the Year
And then there are the insects looking right at us.
Photo: "Damselflies from Another Planets" by Pedro Luis Ajuriaguerra Saiz - Special Photographer of the Year, International Photography Awards.
After the weight of war photography, these macro shots of insects feel like taking a breath. Fun colors. Big eyes. Bubbles. Creatures we usually ignore or swat away, suddenly looking directly at the camera with what can only be described as personality.
There's a damselfly that looks curious. A beetle that seems bemused. The detail is extraordinary - you can see individual droplets of water, the texture of each hair, the geometric perfection of compound eyes.
What makes these photos special isn't just the technical skill required to capture macro photography at this level (which is considerable). It's that Saiz makes you care about these tiny creatures. He makes you stop and look. He finds beauty and character in something most people would walk past without noticing.
That's the magic trick of good photography - making people see what was always there but invisible. Whether it's the humanity in war or the personality of an insect, the job is the same: make people look.
These photos put a smile on my face. They're joyful, fascinating, and I would absolutely hang a print of any of them on my wall.
The Lesson: Perfect Technique in Service of Meaning
This is what I love about the International Photography Awards.
Yes, the technical excellence is there. These photographers know their craft inside and out. The composition, the light, the timing - it's all working.
But the technique isn't the point. It's the tool.
The point is: What does this photo do? What does it make you feel? What does it make you see that you couldn't see before?
A photo can be technically flawless and emotionally empty. We've all seen those - the perfectly lit, perfectly composed images that leave you feeling... nothing.
These photos are the opposite. They might make you uncomfortable. They might break your heart. They might make you smile at a bug. But they make you feel something. They change how you see, even if just for a moment.
That's the difference between a beautiful photo and an important one.
And honestly? That's the kind of photography worth making.
You can see all the winners at photoawards.com - but I'm warning you now, bring tissues and prepare to have your perspective shifted.