How Eduardo Ortiz Uses Color Theory to Make Street Photos That Feel Cinematic and Balanced
Welcome to this edition of [book spotlight]. Today, we uncover the layers of art and photography book 'UNDERSTANDING COLOUR,' by Eduardo Ortiz (self-publishing). We'd love to read your comments below about these insights and ideas behind the artist's work.
Great color photography isn’t about saturation. It’s about balance.
Eduardo Ortiz understands how colors work together and how they affect the mood of a photo. He studies color like a language and uses it to guide the viewer’s eye. He doesn’t rely on editing tricks or presets. He makes decisions while shooting. That’s why his street photos feel so cinematic, calm, and precise.
Eduardo didn’t start as a photographer.
He began in 2018, learned by walking, observing, and studying art forms like painting and cinema. His background gives him a different way of thinking about photography, not just as documentation but as composition and rhythm. He also teaches color theory to his students, showing how even small changes can improve their images.
In this interview, he shares how color, light, and timing come together to create photos that feel intentional and alive.
Understanding Colour
Understanding Colour is the first photography zine by Eduardo Ortiz. Created after years of shooting in black and white, the book documents his personal transition into color photography through a series of images taken across India. Blending visual examples with accessible breakdowns of color theory—like complementary, analogous, triadic, and monochromatic schemes—Ortiz shares what he learned from both art history and hands-on street photography. This is not a technical manual, but a personal, thoughtful guide for photographers who want to see color as a storytelling tool, not just a visual effect. (eortizdelacruz.com/shop)
Martin: You’ve photographed in many places, both in black and white and colour. How has your perspective on the world changed over time?
Eduardo: I haven’t seen much difference yet because I’m kind of a new photographer. I’ve been photographing since 2018. I was talking with Jonathan Jasberg, who I met by chance in Uzbekistan. He’s a great photographer and has been shooting for about 15 years. I was always criticising the cars in Uzbekistan because all the cars were white for some reason. There was some sort of law or something, and white was cheaper. So everybody had white Chevys, and they were horrible cars. If you see photos of Uzbekistan from 15 or 10 years ago, it’s full of old Soviet cars, all different colours, and it was beautiful to see.
Jonathan told me that when he first came here, it was iconic, full of Fiat Soviet cars, and it was beautiful. Now it’s just gone. He’s able to see more difference than I do. I also heard that in Kolkata, the iconic yellow taxis are going to be removed, I think by 2030. It was supposed to be next year, but I heard they just postponed it. But it’s something iconic from the city that’s going to disappear. The taxis there are amazing. They’re always these old Mercedes taxis, very beautiful to see, and they’re going to be gone in four or five years. So yeah, streets are always changing, but we need to embrace that, I guess. Change is always there, so we need to do what we can.
I mean, the world isn’t changing. Some things are changing for the better, maybe, but some things are changing for the worse. We need to accept it and just keep on photographing this. Like the phones, too. Everybody’s on their phone now. I hate it. But well, it is what it is. It’s harder to look for moments, but yeah, there are no excuses.
When you visit a new place, how do you start looking for photos? What helps you get into the rhythm of taking photos?
I usually let myself be absorbed by the place. Honestly, I'm not obsessed with getting photos. For me, it's about walking, enjoying life, and the day itself. The photos come as a byproduct. It depends on the place, but if I'm visiting somewhere specifically to take photos, I spend the first few days just walking a lot. I shoot whenever I see an opportunity.
However, if I’m going somewhere for a specific shoot and only have two or three days, I do a bit of research beforehand. There’s an app called SunTracker that helps me understand where the sun will be at different times. It shows me which areas will be in shadow and which will be sunny. This is especially useful in hilly places where you could spend the whole day just walking in the shade.
I quickly check that to get an idea of where the sun will be, which helps me plan my route. I’ll start where the light is likely to be good, then move to different spots as the day progresses, ending in an area where I expect the best light. I also try to include lively places in my route, like markets, train stations, bus stations, and city centres.
But generally, I let myself wander. I wake up early during the first few days and just walk. For example, two weeks ago in Rome, I shared on Instagram that I walked around 39,000 to 40,000 steps in a single day.
Do you shoot more deliberately, or do you tend to take a lot of photos when you start?
I'm selective. I'm becoming increasingly picky. Sometimes, I can go quite a while without taking any photos. On a long day, I might take around 200 to 250 photos. On a shorter day, maybe 100 to 150. I try to be more intentional in shooting single shots.
How many photos do you usually take per day?
I’d say around a hundred.
I don’t like to press the shutter aimlessly. I try to calculate and read the moment. I’m not someone who shoots a lot; I prefer to observe more and shoot less.
You’ve mentioned that movies and paintings inspire you. How do you incorporate those ideas when you’re out taking photos, whether on the street or while travelling?
For me, movies have really helped me understand composition on a broader scale. Typically, we think of composition as how we group or arrange elements within a frame. But in cinema, you can see how this arrangement serves the story.
For example, have you watched Fargo? There are many minimalist shots in that film. One beautiful scene is when the main character, the female police officer, is having breakfast with her husband. The space is divided into two parts: one with the door leading outside and the other where they’re sitting. When both are in the frame, it feels balanced. But as she gets up to leave, one side of the frame becomes empty. Suddenly, the husband looks isolated, almost trapped and lonely. The scene shifts from companionship to loneliness through composition alone.
There's also this concept often referred to as the 'regard law.' Typically, if I'm positioned on one side of the frame, I should look towards the wider part of the frame to create balance. But if I look towards the edge where I'm positioned, it creates a sense of constraint. Imagine there's stress in my life; this approach visually communicates that tension.
Understanding how breaking those rules is more commonly seen in cinema. I think it's easier to grasp in cinema than directly in photography. I often find myself watching a movie, pausing it to look at a specific frame. Then I take a screenshot. Yes, I do that. Sometimes I share these screenshots with my followers when I'm watching a movie. Recently, I watched Lawrence of Arabia, and some of the shots are just amazing.
Okay. You take a screenshot or something like that?
Yes, I take a screenshot and try to analyse the moment, the composition, and also think about the mood, how the composition complements the mood and the context of what's happening. This helps me understand how composition isn't just an aesthetic element but also serves to tell a story.
For me, the main thing about cinema and paintings is understanding light. I love Impressionist painters like Monet and Manet, but I also appreciate the Luminist period. It's somewhat like Impressionism but with more lively scenes. If you look at the work of Joaquín Sorolla, the light is beautiful.
Additionally, there's movement, action happening in the scene. Unlike Manet's work, where the beauty of light is paired with more static characters, Sorolla’s paintings capture motion. It’s beautiful to see the light in his paintings is stunning, almost like beautiful photographs.
I'm always trying to draw inspiration from other sources as well. I believe there's limited growth in photography if we confine ourselves solely to photographic art. We should expand our horizons, read more literature, poetry, explore dance. Everything can enrich your photographic soul, or rather, your photographic being.
Is there a rule you used to follow but later decided to break? Like composing with the rule of thirds, then realising you didn’t like it anymore, so you deliberately moved away from it? Or was that not the case for you?
Yes, the rule of thirds. I never really found it pleasing to my eyes. Then I understood why after studying composition. The rule of thirds isn't always the answer. What really marked a change in my work was freeing myself from the need to have everything straight. In the beginning, I did a lot of landscapes and portraits, always trying to get everything perfectly straight, with straight lines, using guidelines, turning my camera carefully.
When I visited Istanbul for the first time, I shot a lot of concerts with a friend of mine. He’s actually a photographer, though he doesn’t believe it, I think he is. But he’s primarily a filmmaker. I helped him shoot concerts called Cataclysm Sessions.
He was always breaking angles, and his photos had so much energy. That inspired me to start looking at more concert photos. I began to understand the rhythm and energy captured in those images. Often, you see broken angles and crooked lines. For example, if I had a guitar and held it straight, it might suggest I’m playing folk music. But if I tilt it slightly, you might think I’m playing rock even without hearing a single note.
Just that diagonal shift can change your perception of the music. Through concert photography, I learned to read the moment. Sometimes, tilting the camera adds more energy. Tilting can also direct attention to another area, bringing dynamism to the composition.
From a straight line, you create disruption, introducing more dynamism and energy. A diagonal line can lead the viewer’s eye elsewhere in the frame. This realisation freed me in how I compose. I’m super free now I move my hands, adjust perspectives, always using my eye to compose, but without rigid rules about lines.
I think that’s one of the main things: adding more energy and dynamism to my images.
Okay, let's talk about colour a little bit. You mentioned that learning colour photography felt like learning a new language. How can someone tell when they're starting to understand colour better?
That's a good question. Well, when I started studying colour theory, it felt overwhelming, a huge, never-ending thing. There are so many colour palettes, relationships, and concepts to grasp. But then I went to India. I had a lot of time to practice, and India is full of colour. I wasn’t there specifically to take photos; I was there to enjoy India. But at the same time, it served as a kind of test to see if I was really understanding colour theory.
From'UNDERSTANDING COLOUR,' by Eduardo Ortiz
For instance, I’d find myself looking at a green canvas and thinking, "It would be nice to have something purple here." I started noticing how things naturally fell into place, as if I was instinctively making the right colour choices. I was consciously thinking about finding analogous colour palettes. Monochromatic palettes are some of the hardest to manage, but in India, I found them. I’d look at an image and think, "Wow, this works." Not just because the colours looked nice, but because they served the image itself.
Royer Dickens says something like, "It’s easy to make colour look nice, but it’s harder to make colour serve to tell your story." That idea really resonates with me. Sometimes, treating colour is like working with layers in photo editing. Adding layers can make a photo more complex, but it’s not always about adding more. The same applies to colour. I don’t just add more colours to make a photo interesting. In fact, sometimes I do the opposite. If there’s someone in the frame wearing a colour that doesn’t fit, I’ll wait for them to leave to get a cleaner, more muted look.
In this photo, when I took it, there was a girl wearing pink in the frame or rather, outside of the frame. In the first shot, she was in the frame, and I just didn’t like it.
Either she was doing the main action, as she was getting a lot of attention because of the pink colour, or it was better to leave her out of the frame. So, for this image, I waited a good five, maybe even almost ten minutes, for the right moment. I was actually with a Russian friend there. Things started falling into place, and I love the background.
This is the Korn neighbourhood in Yerevan, which is likely to disappear. I like the contrast between the old building and the crumbling structure. The background helps tell a story about this neighbourhood. The kids were playing, but there was this girl wearing pink, and I’d say the pink didn’t serve the theme and look of the image. If you see here, there are no colours that stand out.
So, I was observing what was happening, and suddenly she ran behind me. That’s when the scene started taking shape. I thought, okay, everything is falling into place. Then the ball went up, and I felt like, wow, now it’s happening. One of the kids went to get the ball and pushed it while the girl, who you don’t see in the image, was behind me. It was a lucky shot I captured the ball just as it was coming out of the frame. The ball is one of the brightest colours in the image.
The colour contrast led me to compose the photo this way. If I had been thinking in black and white, I might have included the girl in the frame. I’d have stepped back a bit to add her. But in colour, it wouldn’t work. The pink would attract too much attention. Either she had to be doing the main action, making her presence in pink acceptable, or she needed to be out of the frame. I actually love that she’s out of the frame because it adds to the idea of a crumbling society a very poor place, I’d say.
So in general, what would you say makes a scene work in colour? What do you look for in a scene before deciding to take a photo in colour?
It honestly depends on the moment. I always worry about the background. For me, it's essential that the background works. If I have someone wearing a muted colour against a red background, it draws attention. I wouldn’t add someone if the main action is done by someone wearing a beautiful colour, like light brown, and there's someone in the background wearing pink or green, it would get too much attention. I try to avoid clutter and avoid things that steal attention, like someone wearing a bright colour such as red.
People wearing red or having a red background will always grab more attention. So, I’m always conscious of the amount of each colour present. In cinema, there’s often an effort to balance colours like having 60% of one colour, 30% of another, and then an accent colour. I try to maintain a good relationship between them. When I’m deciding on the background, I usually consider the relationship between the amounts of colours. For example, if I have 50% red and 50% blue, the colours will compete with each other. I try to find a nice balance and apply it, but it’s also very spontaneous. I don’t want to over-intellectualise what I do; I let myself go with the flow.
For me, it’s really important that the colours aren’t in equal amounts. I always try to create contrast. If you look at the work of René Burri in black and white versus his work in colour, you can see how colour and black and white are different languages. Comparing Cartier-Bresson’s black and white photography to Harry Gruyaert’s colour compositions, they both have a similar structure. For me, Harry Gruyaert is like the elegant, perfectly composed Cartier-Bresson but in colour. However, René Burri’s work in black and white versus colour feels like two different people. He really understood that colour requires a different approach. In black and white, you look for contrasts, expressions, textures, elements that lead better in the absence of colour. The form has to be super precise in black and white; otherwise, the photo needs to be more interesting to compensate for the lack of colour.
In René Burri’s colour work, sometimes the compositions are simpler, but the colours are used so effectively. The amount of each colour is perfectly balanced. His visual language changes; it’s like speaking German and then switching to French.
So, when I’m shooting in colour, I think about how the colours work together and how they support the story I’m trying to tell or direct attention to the right place. Sometimes, if my main subject is wearing a colour that doesn’t fit, I won’t even take the shot. But when I’m shooting in black and white, I’m more visceral. I just approach and shoot. I worry less about these things; I simply take whatever comes.
What are some common mistakes people make when they start shooting in colour? How can they improve?
I think one of the main issues is the light. People often don't wait for the right light to shoot or fail to understand how to manage it. For example, shooting at midday without underexposing can result in completely washed-out colours, especially when shooting against the light. However, if you keep the sun behind you, even at midday, the colours appear much better. The direction of the light significantly affects the colours.
Understanding light is crucial because it helps you see how it impacts colour. Here in Istanbul, for instance, I almost never take photos on the ferries between 10 a.m. and 5 pm because the sun is too high. The contrast isn’t ideal; inside the boat is mostly in shade, while outside is much brighter. This dynamic range makes it challenging to work effectively. But when the sun is lower in the sky, casting a warm, deep light, the colours become richer and blend more harmoniously. That warm light makes it easier to capture beautiful colours.
Another common mistake is taking colour for granted. Modern cameras shoot primarily in colour, and because we naturally see in colour, people often don’t think critically about how colours influence the emotions conveyed by their images. Many photographers neglect studying colour theory, assuming that a preset will magically give their photos the desired look.
I frequently get asked about my presets. People say, "Your photos are so punchy in colours," and assume I achieve this by increasing saturation. In reality, I often reduce saturation. The vibrancy comes from the relationships between colours. For example, red and green pop more when placed together because of their contrast, not because I've added saturation. Conversely, pairing pale green with light brown results in more muted tones because they are closer on the colour wheel.
Ultimately, it’s not about presets. I always emphasise the importance of studying colour theory. I’m not interested in selling presets and never will be. I’m completely against that approach.
From 'UNDERSTANDING COLOUR,' by Eduardo Ortiz
How can someone learn to see colour combinations, like complementary colours or different combinations, while they're actually taking photos?
Well, the basics start with the colour wheel. It's essential to understand colours and how they relate to each other.
And how do you put that into practice?
I’d say the best approach is to simplify. During my workshop with students in a very colourful neighbourhood called Ives and Sarai, I told them: if you find a great opportunity to capture a photo with people, movement, something that makes a good street photo, go ahead and take it. But our focus was on finding colour combinations. I introduced them to the colour wheel, explaining briefly the concepts of analogous colours, complementary colours, and even triadic colours, which can be a bit more challenging.
I encourage them to go out and actively look for these combinations. For example, if you find green with red, try to balance them thoughtfully, perhaps having more green and just a hint of red. Avoid equal amounts of both. The goal is to find colour combinations that are pleasing to the eye.
Also, consider the proportion of colours; they shouldn’t all have the same intensity or amount. I stress the importance of simplifying: take photos of something as simple as a wall and focus on getting the right balance of colours.
In one of my recent workshops, I captured a simple photo to demonstrate this concept. It featured a shade of blue with a hint of red, almost complementary, as they sit opposite each other on the colour wheel. I used a lot of blue with just a touch of red, and it looked visually pleasing. For beginners, I suggest not worrying too much about the subject or composition, just focus on getting the colours right. That’s exactly what I did during that exercise; I went outside with the sole purpose of looking for colours.
After practising this for a good amount of time, I encourage integrating this new understanding of colour with your existing photography knowledge, like composition. When tackling a specific challenge, I find it helpful to isolate the problem. It’s similar to learning music. When I was learning to play classical guitar, I didn’t play the entire piece repeatedly. Instead, I focused on a small section, maybe 10 to 15 seconds, and practised just that part until it was perfect. Once I mastered it, I moved on. I apply the same process to photography.
You mentioned that some colour styles are easier to find in cities, while others are more common in nature. Can you give some tips for finding good colour where you live?
In cities, it's easier to find triadic colours, like blue, yellow, and red. These triadic colour combinations are really hard to find in nature almost never, really. But in cities, they're very popular because they have a pop culture vibe; they're very catchy. You'll see a lot of signs using these colour combinations.
In cities, you might find these vibrant colours, but then you have monochromatic colour palettes. Monochromatic doesn't just mean black and white; it refers to shades of the same colour. When it comes to monochromatic colours, you can wait for the light to be more even, like during sunset or the blue hour. I took a photo showing that concept, waiting for dim light, like during the blue hour, so everything gets imbued with one sort of light. It’s not fully monochromatic, but it conveys the idea.
Then there are analogous colours, colours that are close to each other on the colour wheel. It's almost like monochromatic but with a little more variation, a bit more taste. And then you have complementary colours, which are easier to find both in nature and in cities.
For example, you might see some red in a small area while the rest is green. Maybe there's even a child wearing red, which helps balance the whole frame. When you spot a colour combination like that, try to work with it. Complementary colours are easy to find in both nature and cities. Monochromatic colours are super easy to find in nature. Think of a foggy day; everything is imbued with that fogginess. Or when you're in a forest, everything is almost entirely green.
So, in nature, you're more likely to find certain colour palettes, like monochromatic ones. In cities, it's a bit harder, but you can wait for the right light to capture images with a monochromatic feel. Every type of light offers different possibilities, and every place offers its own unique options. It's all about being attentive.
Okay, what’s one small exercise someone can do to become more aware of colour in their everyday life, even without using a camera?
I’d say it’s all about simplifying. Just find a nice colour palette, take a photo with your phone, and maybe create a folder with different combinations. Study the colour wheel and learn a bit about the various colour combinations. Whenever you notice something, like a red ribbon somewhere, take a photo of it and observe how much red is present.
You might want to get closer to that red ribbon to make the red occupy a larger portion of the frame. See how it relates to the other elements. Notice what happens when you adjust your proximity to colours and change their proportion within the frame. Simply playing around with your phone is enough to develop an understanding of how colours interact with each other.
Also, watch films and pay attention to their colour schemes. When you come across an amazing colour palette, pause the movie and analyse it. Look at the composition, the colours, the mood. I believe the most challenging part is ensuring the mood aligns with the image. The colours should complement the mood of the moment you’re capturing. When you successfully combine mood, colours, and composition, that’s when you achieve a striking shot.
Do you have a favourite colour combination you go for?
I always love blue during the blue hour. The combination of blue hour with warm lights or artificial light, I just love it. I was recently taking some photos with my students, and I captured this simple, cinematic-looking scene. The blue light outside combined with artificial light inside, like on a ferry in Istanbul, is beautiful.
The dim light during blue hour is very pleasing to me. But that window of time with this kind of light is short, about 20 to 25 minutes, not even 30. You have to be in the right place. So I’m always running during this time, trying to get on a ferry or find a good spot with artificial light and the blue dim light. I just love it. Those moments make me rush.
How does editing your photos help you understand colour better? Are there things you only notice later, when you're not shooting?
Honestly, I’m kind of old school. I try to compose everything in-camera. I barely crop my images and don’t spend much time editing, just about five minutes. I already have my presets for different times of day. I apply a preset, adjust the colours slightly, do a bit of dodge and burn, and that’s it, five to ten minutes per image.
About your editing process, what approach do you use?
Like I said, I’m old school. I don’t edit my photos much. If I have to spend more than ten to fifteen minutes editing an image, it probably wasn’t good enough to begin with. Also, I’m super pragmatic. I shoot with a Fujifilm camera, and when I’m shooting in black and white, I set the viewfinder to black and white.
This way, the preview is in black and white, and when I import the images, they’re already in black and white. I don’t have to decide later whether the image should be in colour or black and white. If I choose black and white for the day, that’s it. When I upload the photos, I stick with that choice, without second-guessing whether it might look better in colour. I prefer to keep it straightforward.
Is it difficult to switch your mind between shooting in black and white and shooting in colour?
I love both. For me, it's like speaking several languages, like switching between French and English. They're both languages I love. It’s just about changing the language and focusing on different things. Usually, when I shoot in black and white, I also use flash during the day because I love the drama it creates. When you see my work in black and white, you’ll probably notice that I see things differently and focus on distinct elements. The form becomes much more important, and I try to make the photos more stylised.
Let’s talk about your project “Chukiyawu“. What first brought you to La Paz, Bolivia? Why did you feel like this place needed to be photographed in black and white?
Good question. I’m working on a project focused on expressing magical realism through photography. If you ever visit Bolivia, it’s a little bit crazy. It’s overwhelmingly beautiful, the people are nice, the food is good, but it’s also just weird. There are festivities where people take human skulls, worship them, and keep them as part of the family to give them a ‘better time in life.’
It’s a place where you clearly see the clash between Western society and indigenous traditions. The presence of Christianity and Paganism is constant; the syncretism is very visible in daily life. Some things work, and others are just messy. It’s like the Latin American experience, but on steroids.
I chose black and white because I wanted to focus more on the features of people. Black and white helps highlight details like wrinkles. When you see a colour photo of someone from Bolivia, your attention often goes straight to the colourful attire. I didn’t want people focusing solely on the clothing; I wanted them to focus on the faces and their shapes. I use flash to bring out the wrinkles. If you flash someone’s face from below, the lines of expression become much more pronounced.
Also, black and white helps capture textures better. I even used a zoom lens, which I never do, because some areas in La Paz are very constrained with little space to move. Then there are wide, open areas with beautiful textures. La Paz is like a hole surrounded by hills, and you see these houses that look like they’re almost falling apart. It’s a very weird feeling.
And then you also have the cable cars. I wanted people to see this background layer a bit more. So instead of using a 50mm or 18mm, I used a 23mm or 35mm to compress everything a little more and bring the background closer, so you can really see it. These kinds of houses became more like textures. Black and white is much better for telling the whole story of this place.
I didn’t want to focus on the exotic part of Bolivia, the colourful clothing or the hats. If I shot in colour, your attention would go straight to how vibrant everything is. But I don’t want people to focus on the colours. I want them to focus more on the magic, the weirdness of the place, and the unique things that happen there.
If I used colour, it would feel more like a documentary about Bolivia, about La Paz, rather than conveying the energy of the place. That’s why I think black and white maintains a level of abstraction that’s better suited for the story I want to tell about La Paz.
'UNDERSTANDING COLOUR,' by Eduardo Ortiz can be purchased here - (eortizdelacruz.com/shop)
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