Weak photographic portraiture occurs when the subject of the photo unconsciously commandeers the process and imputes the thing with a mood or disposition that is one-dimensional.
How does this happen?
It happens because the subject surmises silently that a) the photographer lacks imagination and b) that the photographer is powerless to prevent the subject from falling back on an easy, false emotion, most often recognised in the standard portrait with a generic, slightly embarrassed-looking friendly smile. Or worse, the subject will manufacture a look that is designed to steer the observer to see the subject in a favourable light.
This sequestering of power is certainly not malicious; the subject cannot be blamed. Rather, it is mostly the photographer who is responsible for this imbalance. Steps must be taken to prevent this middlebrow type of photo from occurring and it all starts the moment you have your eye at the viewfinder.
Brilliant, compelling portraiture hits the viewer with an emotional force that empowers the subject and offers that same viewer something of a superpower…ie the superpower to see the subject as they truly, undeniably are in this world. The photographer enables this subject/viewer transaction through skill, wisdom and of course timing.
The crux of the matter. When you shoot a portrait of someone, you are not only recording a person and making a photo of that subject, you are also taking a photograph of yourself. These twin notions of portraiture (i.e. the taker and the subject being enjoined in a single frame) is a difficult concept to grasp. But not grasping it means your portraits will only, at best, be 50 per cent of what is on offer.
You doubt this theory? Take a series of photos of a baby. When you go “goo-goo-gaga”, the baby might smile. Take that photo.
If you inadvertently scare the baby by using a creepy deep voice, the baby might cry. If you take the photo, in both cases, your image is registering not just the baby, but you. The baby’s emotions are a direct result of how the baby feels about you.
So now that you recognise the equal partnership involved in portraiture, you will find the process of engagement easier, and you will be less likely to be harmlessly undermined by your subject.
I’m not suggesting you become a sort of chameleonic “conjuror” behind the lens to yield an emotion from your subject; instead, adopt an attitude of openness and willingness to participate in this small dance, as you would in a conversation with perhaps a stranger at a bar.
This ability to talk to anyone in life is the self-same skill that some great portraitists in art possess. It means that portraiture is a very human skill, and like all skills it must be practised.
Here is an exercise to achieve fluency in this realm. Ask a friend or a trusting relative to sit down with you (no camera required at this point). Ask them to describe their life story, beginning, middle and present.
If that is too much, perhaps default to the last five years. You will notice that as the conversation ebbs and flows, and as moods undulate and vanish, an array of emotions will pass across the eyes of that person. When they speak of an achievement or high point in life, you will see it.
When they delve into the darker corners of their minds, you will likewise notice the changes in their disposition and attitude. It follows that when you talk to someone with your camera at the ready, you’ll be pressing the shutter at these key moments.
You’ll need to be fast; emotions come and go like the wind, and are never repeated.
So, as a jazz musician practises by listening to the solos of Miles, Coltrane and Herbie, you should set aside time to listen to the oral histories of fellow humans in order to become fluent and fast with portrait skills. ‘Listen”, as a means of ‘Seeing’.
Decide on whether your subject should be photographed in situ or in a controlled studio environment. It may depend on context.
If, for example, I sought to photograph a farmer doing it tough in the drought-stricken Mallee, someone trying, as it were, to “hang onto the farm”, I’d want to shoot that photo in a dry, dusty paddock that sheds light on the psychology of what the farmer is experiencing.
In this case, the subject of the photo is both the farmer and the backdrop. If however, I wanted to use lighting to isolate a subject’s face against a black backdrop, I’d choose a studio (or room) environment for the intimacy and control that the space brings.
Lighting is not just a technical device; it is a potent emotional tool for portraiture.
Ask yourself “what kind of lighting will complement the mood I’m creating in the photo?”
Stark, harsh lighting will throw a very different complexion on a subject compared to broad, soft lighting.
For the latter, use scrims on your light source, or, if you don’t have access to lighting gear, use curtains and window light to diffuse the sunlight streaming in.
I avoid very wide-angle lenses in general but particularly for portraiture. I’d say my starting point would be the 35mm lens and 50mm for exteriors where the backdrop is important.
Moving indoors to a controlled environment, I would admit that 90 per cent of my work is shot with an old Nikon 85mm f2 prime lens from the 1980s.
I love this lens; at f2.8 or f4 it is superb, with great bokeh and sharpness. This is all very personal. What is your favourite lens for portraiture? A new 50mm f1.8, or a clunky old 28-70mm 1990’s piece of plastic that just sings when you shoot it at f5.6?
Experiment with landscape and portrait orientation when shooting people…too often I find that people default to the landscape shape for no good reason.
Remember, you’re not shooting a movie for delivery on a 16×9 TV. Movie close-ups and photographic portraits are very different beasts. Some of the great portraitists shot on 6×6 square film, (Richard Avedon, Mapplethorpe) a size which eschews notions of landscape and portrait shapes, because, well, it’s square.
Alex Frayne’s book of portraits, THEATRE OF LIFE is available from Wakefield Press.
Alex has published two large-format landscape books (Wakefield Press) since 2020. Distance and Desire and Landscapes of South Australia.
This is one story in a series Alex is writing for CityMag. To keep up to date, subscribe to CityMag’s free, weekly newsletter.
See Alex’s other instalments on landscape photography, street photography and photographing Asia.