The Portraitist
I was a photographer before I called myself one. I ran around capturing whatever intrigued me when I realized photography was a way to manifest fantasies. If I couldn’t draw it (and I couldn’t draw) or write it, I would shoot it.
After my first studio photography experience in 2014, I was hooked. I leaned on my friends to create a ‘Hall of Many Faces’ of sorts. My early portfolio. I cringe at some of the editing choices I made with exposure and contrast back then, but they were necessary for my growth as a portraitist.
Black people, my people, will always be my favorite to photograph. I see me in us. I learn about our power, our magic, through shooting. In America, it’s easy to feel like no one wants us. I want us. I want our stories, our triumphs, our pain processed.
As a portraitist, half the time, I just want to capture what’s there. I don’t want to disturb my subject at all. The more I shoot, the easier that job gets. I love hands, I love eyes, I love smiles - I will dial down my influence on the subject as much as I can so that I can extract the essential Them.
But during the other half of the time, I want to create. I want to pull an idea out of my brain, or a feeling out of my chest, or a hope out of my heart, and shooting is the only way I can do it. That’s when I need my models to be models. I need them to move, and be open to suggestion and direction. I need to tell jokes, or open up about something difficult. Unbeknownst to everyone else, that’s when I see myself in my photos. The woman that I am softens my male subjects, or uplifts my female subjects.
The one thing I never worried about was my focus. There’s nothing accidental about the way I focus a camera. It’s a lot like the way I work, or love. If it’s not focused and intentional, it won’t see the light. The danger in that is how it feeds my perfectionism. Perfectionism is my Hulk.
Thankfully, shooting a little closer to home in the Bay Area, my photography is grounding. It can be art, or it can be freelance, or it can be service. But it’s no longer about the celebrity of the people I shoot, or getting my name published. It’s how I move through my life, and remember it through everyone else’s faces.