Why I Fell in Love with Multiple Exposure Photography

Dreaming in Color (double exposure shot, Sheung Wan area - Hong Kong)

I first became curious about multiple exposure photography when I was living in Hong Kong. The city’s vibrant streets made the perfect canvas for experimentation: neon lights, skyscrapers competing for attention, alleys so narrow you could almost shake hands with your neighbor…

I had the privilege of meeting talented photographers there, but not many were playing with this technique. Most of them were exploring their own creative paths, producing compelling images with clean compositions and a strong sense of storytelling. Meanwhile, I was out there deliberately making blurry chaos. Still, their ability to experiment and make magic out of reality and most of the time from ordinary situations, reminded me why I fell in love with this art form.

My first experiments: beautiful chaos (mostly chaos...)

My first attempts at multiple exposure photography were exactly what you’d expect: messy, confusing, and full of mistakes. I decided one day to go out and shoot only with multiple exposure turned on. What came out of that session? Layers upon layers of confusion, mostly. But it also taught me something valuable: this technique requires lot of practice, patience, and the ability to laugh at your own disasters.

Learning through mistakes (...and embracing them)

My own mistakes quickly became my first teacher: I realized that turning on multiple exposure on your camera isn’t just about slapping one photo on top of another like a random collage. Instead, it’s more like a dialogue between images, that could also be unrelated, but, if used in the right way, capable of creating magic together.

Mobius city (double exposure shot, Causeway Bay area - Hong Kong)

For instance, I started experimenting by combining two shots of the same street, rotating the second one by 180° first, then trying it again, this time rotating the second shot by 90° instead. Were those masterpieces? Well, for sure not, but from that moment something clicked. But from that moment, something clicked in my mind, triggering a curiosity that pushed me to keep experimenting and stretching my creativity further.

The moment I got hooked

The turning point came during one of my nightly wanderings with the double exposure on: when the sun goes down, Hong Kong reveals its dark cinematic side and it seems to dress up just to be photographed.

That night I was just wandering around my neighborhood, so I didn’t have to go that far to be finally satisfied with my first double exposure experiments. I simply shot one of the iconic Hong Kong cabs waiting at a taxi stand with its light on: I combined this simple shot with another one in which I intentionally blurred the colorful city lights of the cars passing by.

Hong Kong Boogie-Woogie (double exposure shot, Mong Kok area - Hong Kong)

The result? Well, this time it was cinematic and dreamy, it gave me a feeling of suspension… exactly the kind of magic I’d been chasing with multiple exposure photography!

That was the moment I got hooked. Unlike traditional photography, where you freeze one moment in time, multiple exposure felt like layering memories and moods into a single image (…or in other words, it was just the way I could finally justify my tendency to overcomplicate things!).

Why I’m still obsessed

Years later, multiple exposure is still my favorite creative tool. It’s not about the perfect final image, but about the process: the unpredictability, the excitement of pushing your creative boundaries, the constant experimentation.

Living in Hong Kong gave me the best playground for all this: a city full of contradictions, bold contrasts and a vibrant chaos that somehow could be transformed into beauty.

Multiple exposure taught me to see connections where none seemed to exist, to find beauty in imperfection, and to remember that sometimes a mistake is just creativity in disguise.

If you’ve never tried it, I encourage you to do it: of course, expect messy, sometimes horrible results and plenty of “what the hell am I doing?” moments. But also expect flashes of magic, the kind that make you see the world not as it is, but as it could be.