Some clients prefer traditional photos to styled sessions, whether for professional head shots or to mark a particular moment in their lives. Every now and then I have a client who truly wants only one or two high-end photographs worthy of framing. They are not looking for a large variety of looks or choices, but still desire something more creative and personal than a stereotypical head shot session.
These short photo shoots feature the look the client wants while still showing different aspects of his or her personality and stage of life. Though simple, they allow for creativity in many ways, with the goal of highlighting any feature or mood important to the subject. Every client comes with a story to tell. Every one of them comes with a purpose, a “why” for having photographs created.
In this instance, Gabriel was finishing his senior year of high school. These images mark the end of his K-12 school career, during which time he was an outstanding student and accomplished athlete. He is a clean-cut, service-oriented teenager with many typical adolescent interests and aspirations. He possesses a quiet strength and a solid understanding of the direction his life is headed. His session was a fitting blend of straightforward optimism and emerging adulthood.
Creative play days are opportunities for me to collaborate with other professionals, learn new techniques, and expand my portfolio. Things I tested this time around: Gelling a white background, using a printed background, creating depth in the studio, experimenting with an optical spot, and making partial silhouettes. Controlling the light for these looks challenged me, but the creativity and problem solving required was as much play as it was work.
I take the lessons learned from creative days into regular sessions with clients, using new techniques when they serve to elevate the shoot. Shout-out to wardrobe stylist, Kathy Friend, who also works with me on my client sessions. All of those little style details, even beyond the clothing–the jewelry, shoes, and sometimes hair accessories and miscellaneous props–can be credited to her imagination and fashion sense. Thanks also to Ally at Lips and Lashes by Crazy Aimee, who is responsible for the variety of hair and makeup looks in this shoot.
And finally, we have our talent, Kate. I asked her to model because, obviously, she is absolutely gorgeous. But I also needed a dedicated ballet dancer. Her expressive eyes, freckles, and dramatic dark hair were icing on the cake. Most importantly, she was game for anything I asked and helped make the session that much more fun.
Simple gets confused sometimes with plain. But the two words convey different meanings. Plain implies boring. Simple connotes fresh, clean, and authentic–without extraneous elements or need for explanation. For Annie, simplicity reflects the purity of her beautiful face and her sweet, friendly disposition. She’s a gorgeous girl with a smile for miles and freckles that add to her charm. Though she is a blossoming sophisticated young woman, her natural expressions convey her youthful way of being.
Annie needed professional head shots for a school application. And head shots speak for the person whose photographs must give a meaningful impression to those who view them. Planning for a head shot session begins with knowing what the client wants her photos to say. Annie wanted to show her look, her character, and some range of mood and emotion. In order to achieve a polished feel without being either too basic or, on the other hand, overstated, everything in this shoot was kept simple. Wardrobe, makeup, jewelry, lighting, and background worked to keep the focus on Annie, the applicant. She needed to stand out, but not appear to be showy.
Annie’s head shots were meant to be an introduction to her personality. They promote her upbeat and easygoing temperament as well as her academic potential and attention to details. And while a lot of thought was put into them ahead of time, they’re really pretty simple.
In my mind, Phil has always been a quiet guy. I first met him back in the 2010s when our families shared a hockey practice carpool. I might be able to count on two hands the total number of words he said to me that season, outside of “Thanks for the ride.”
Sometimes quiet can be a little intimidating. It can be mistaken for empty space that needs to be filled. But there are times, places, and situations for quiet. Some people feel more relaxed and more at peace when they are not obligated to make noise. Quiet is not a void. One might say that it is a freedom from noise. But that doesn’t mean it says nothing. In fact, it speaks volumes if you just listen.
When my kids were little, one of my favorite books to read to them was The Quiet Book by Deborah Underwood. It’s a brilliantly illustrated work that lists many different kinds of quiet, all very relatable to children and adults alike. The words and pictures have a very soothing effect even on the pages where you can feel energy growing. The quiet can be heard and is palpable. I get a similar feeling when I look at these photographs of Phil.
During his session, Phil didn’t talk a lot. He remained as polite as ever while owning an air of excitement and anticipation. He approached the end of his senior year and the beginning of the next stage of his life with confidence. His expressions are all his own and completely fitting with his personality. He has accomplished so much, including a miraculous recovery from a life-threatening injury just a few years ago. (That is his story to tell, if he wants to talk about it.) It was clear he was looking forward to new adventures–even though he didn’t actually say so.
I first met Sandy in a scrapbooking store when our oldest children were in preschool (more than ten years ago.) I overheard her conversation with someone else and I wondered if her son might be my daughter’s preschool friend. We ended up talking and confirming that our children were in the same class. And then we bonded over scrapbooking (one way of leaving a legacy) and our preschool-aged kiddos.
Scrapbooking was big at the time, which was right before I really started to learn photography. I was all in. I had the paper, some punches, stickers, stamps, buttons, Silhouette . . . you name it. At some point, I attended a scrapbooking weekend retreat when a question came up about the most important factor in making a good scrapbook page. Someone answered that it was the layers on a page or some other design element. And I remember thinking, no, the most important component of a great scrapbook is the photographs! The photos are the emotions and memories. They are what the scrapbook is all about–the reason for the scrapbook in the first place! The papers and embellishments can make the pages pretty and give them dimension, but ultimately, they frame the stories told by the photographs. The people in the scrapbooks make the scrapbooks what they are.
And while we’re talking photographs, I wonder how many mothers include themselves in their children’s scrapbooks. They have pictures of all the other family members, but oftentimes the moms are the ones behind the camera taking the pictures. So when their children go through their photo albums, reliving their younger years, a huge chunk of their lives is missing from those books.
Personal experience has taught me that after we leave this world, (and even while we’re still in it) our loved ones look for photos of us. They smile and laugh and cry as they remember all the times–regardless of the quality of the pictures. And they also look for “a good picture,” one where your face isn’t dark or blurry or your expression awkward. They try to find an image that characterizes you in the best way possible. They want to show your features and personality to the world and they want it to be clear, flattering, and emblematic of you.
I hope these images of Sandy are a part of her legacy. She is a gorgeous woman with the most welcoming smile. She is also a brilliant and caring physician and an independent thinker. Perhaps most importantly, she is a mother setting the example for her children. I hope that someday, her children look back at these and recognize themselves in her. Imagine these photographs (and more) in an album or framed on the wall. I envision her children smiling to themselves as they think of their mom and talk about her–maybe to their own children.