The Chair That Ruined the Photograph

 

 

The Chair That Ruined the Photograph

 

Sometimes it is the chair.

Not an ugly chair.

Not a badly placed chair.

In fact, it may be an exceptionally beautiful chair sitting exactly where the interior designer intended it to sit.

And then I put the camera on the tripod.

Suddenly, the chair has joined forces with the cocktail table, the floor lamp is growing out of the sofa, and a perfectly innocent vase appears to be balancing on the back of another piece of furniture.

Welcome to photographing interiors.

 

The Camera Flattens Everything

We experience rooms in three dimensions.

We walk through them. Our eyes move around objects. We instinctively understand that the chair is six feet in front of the console table and that the lamp behind it isn’t actually attached to either one.

The camera isn’t nearly so accommodating.

It takes all those layers and compresses them into a single two-dimensional frame.

Objects that have plenty of breathing room in real life can suddenly collide.

This is why I often make small adjustments before photographing a room.

A chair moves three inches.

A lamp shifts slightly.

A bowl disappears.

And occasionally something lovely gets temporarily banished to the hallway.

Not because the room was designed incorrectly.

Because the photograph has its own geometry.

 

Three Inches Can Change Everything

One of the misconceptions about architectural and interior photography is that the photographer simply finds a good corner and photographs what is there.

But much of the work happens before the shutter is ever released.

I am watching edges.

Spacing.

Sightlines.

Where furniture overlaps.

How one room appears through another.

What the eye notices first—and what quietly gets in its way.

Sometimes the difference between a photograph that feels effortless and one that feels strangely cluttered is remarkably small.

Three inches can do it.

 

Then Everything Goes Back

This is the funny part.

After carefully moving a chair, shifting a lamp and relocating the offending bowl, I make the photograph.

And then I put everything back.

Because the designer wasn’t wrong.

The camera was just being difficult.

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About Deborah Scannell

Deborah Scannell is an architectural, interior, luxury real estate, and commercial photographer based in Asheville, serving clients throughout Western North Carolina. Before becoming a full-time photographer, she spent more than two decades as a professional interior designer, earning credentials through ASID, NCIDQ, and AKBD. That experience continues to shape the way she photographs architecture, interiors, luxury homes, vacation rentals, commercial spaces, and thoughtfully designed mountain homes—seeing not only how a room looks, but how it was intended to be experienced.

She believes light does more than illuminate a place—it reveals its atmosphere. In addition to photography, Deborah is an FAA-certified drone pilot, creating cinematic aerial imagery and video for luxury homes, architects, builders, designers, commercial properties, and real estate professionals throughout Asheville and Western North Carolina.

This article is part of Project Lighthouse—an evolving knowledge library exploring photography, architecture, light, atmosphere, and the art of seeing.

If this perspective resonates with you, explore more articles in Atmosphere Matters, or learn more about Architecture & Interiors and Beyond the Listing,  to see how these ideas come to life through architectural photography, luxury real estate imagery, cinematic film, and aerial drone photography.