The Devil Really Is in the Details

In my previous article, I wrote about what luxury actually means and what creates a sense of a certain level in a hotel. If we simplify it, it is a set of promises: quality, service, attention to detail, privacy, personal care, and the place where all of this happens. But how does a potential guest understand from photographs that a hotel actually delivers the level they are looking for?

They look at the images and gradually build an overall impression. They see the architecture and interiors, the space, the view, the people, the food, the pool, the details in the room. They probably don't analyse each photograph separately. Instead, at some point, they simply get a feeling: this looks like the kind of place I want to stay in.

That is why different images in hotel photography have different jobs. Architecture and interiors show the space, design, scale and character of the place. I have already written about the role of people in the frame in Architecture for Living: Why a Human Presence Matters in the Frame — a person helps show how a space is used, its scale, and how a guest might feel in it.

There is another layer: details. And as banal as it may sound, the devil really is in the details.

If you look at a hotel from arrival to the end of the day, there are a lot of them. The reception desk, paper and pens, the key card, door hardware, light switches, materials in the room and bathroom, robes and towels, toiletries, plates and glasses, cutlery and table linen in the restaurant, and later in the evening, bed linen, pillows and a blanket. These are the things and materials a guest comes into direct contact with throughout the day. This is where the tactile side of a hotel lives: the texture of fabric, the surface of wood, the thickness of a towel, the quality of glass and ceramics, the weight of an object, the feel of paper or cardboard in your hands.

Most of these things are not consciously examined or evaluated one by one. But all of them become part of the overall perception of the hotel. Research into consumer behaviour shows that tactile characteristics can influence how people evaluate the quality of a product, while visual cues of materials and textures can help form an idea of them before there is any physical contact.

And this is where photography becomes particularly interesting. On a screen, a person can't touch the fabric or feel the weight of a glass, but they can see its texture, density, surface and quality. It gives them additional information about what they will actually encounter at the hotel.

This doesn't mean photographing every cup or towel as a separate shot. If a hotel has invested in quality materials, objects, textiles, table settings or toiletries, all of that is part of the product. The question is how much of that actually makes it into the photographs.

This is where the devil really is in the details. Imagine a hotel with an expensive designer interior, high-quality textiles, carefully chosen furniture and everything else needed to create the right impression. Then the guest goes to lunch and is served drinks in glasses left over from a champagne delivery, while the coffee comes in cups with a supplier's logo. There is nothing inherently wrong with those things. Somewhere else, or in a different context, they might even be perfectly appropriate. But here they start to clash with everything around them. One small element can disrupt an impression that much more money has gone into creating.

The opposite works too. Take a hypothetical Mandarin Oriental. No one chooses a hotel just because they liked the robe. But when photographs include high-quality robes, fans, distinctive tableware, textiles, table settings, spa products, tea accessories and other details, it is hard not to notice them. Together, they reinforce the image of the brand: attention to quality, objects, service, aesthetics and, depending on the particular hotel, culture and sense of place.

So for me, details in hotel photography are not interesting simply because they are details. They help show the things a guest will see, touch and use every day, but which are easy to lose if you look at a hotel only through its architecture and interiors. A good shoot needs to take all of these things into account, because they are part of what makes a hotel feel consistent with the way it presents itself.

Architecture shows the space and character of the place. A person in the frame shows scale, presence and how the space is used. Details add the materials, textures and objects that surround the guest.

Does this article need some super-smart conclusion? I don't think so.

I believe hotel photography is not just a collection of beautiful pictures. It is one of the tools — and, in my opinion, a pretty important one — that helps introduce a person to the hotel. Photography shapes their first impression of the place and makes visible everything you have created for your guest.