What makes a good portrait photograph?
What is it about portrait photography that makes it so special for both photographers and our audience? Why do some portraits become a permanent fixture in our visual memory? And what sets apart a decent ordinary portrait from an extraordinary one?
Here, I will attempt to find some answers. My goal is to unveil some of the mystery surrounding portraiture. I hope it helps you expand and challenge your own portrait creation, now and in the future.
Photography is like love; it's not enough to just feel it; you have to act on it. And if it's every day, even better. Portrait photography is not as simple as it may seem. It's a complex beast, and when we're starting out, we need to know and understand the traditional rules of portraiture. Soft directional light, a captivating expression, and a pleasing posture can assist us, but it doesn't always result in an image that moves our audience. Breaking the rules and experimenting can achieve the same effect, or not! Consciously or unconsciously, or simply through luck, sometimes we manage to infuse that indescribable element into our process, and the result is an extraordinary image.
With time, practice, and reflection, the frequency of remarkable work only increases. I have achieved it consistently, so I will share my experience with you to help you discover a personal approach and create compelling and captivating portraits.
THE SECRET SAUCE: What makes a good portrait?
Just as the definition of photography is changing, so is the idea of what makes a good portrait. There's no longer a rule that defines portraiture. Whether it's analog or digital, handmade or computer-generated, doesn't matter. What matters is originality, mastery of the medium, and the ability to connect with your audience. Look for authenticity, commitment, a tender and compassionate perspective, something sensual. It's about a sense of presence, where you feel the subject isn't just looking at the photographer but looking at you. It's a kind of deep gaze, a presence rather than self-awareness. Sometimes it's about the quality of the light or the mood. If a portrait has a narrative, it usually draws us in. I don't necessarily care if something is staged, but when things start to appear too artificial, I think it's a crutch. I believe a good portrait empowers the subject and is ultimately a collaboration between the subject and the photographer. Trying to impose too much on the subject often creates a forced image that the viewer can't relate to.
Establishing a connection and allowing the subject to present themselves to the camera is often all that's needed for a good portrait. And a good portrait can be one that says more about the photographer than the person being portrayed. The subject or person you choose to photograph, the placement of someone, the moment that is captured, the selection, the editing, the use of light – all these are our choices. I believe we are all (subconsciously) seeking recognition, something we know, something about ourselves. I think that's having "your own style" within the medium; the photographer's reflection can be seen in the work.
Of course, THERE IS NO MAGIC FORMULA.
There are many misconceptions surrounding this genre: people often consider it as an easier approach. However, delving into and focusing on this genre takes a lot of courage. Portraiture is much more intricate than we think, especially street portraiture. I've always been drawn to portraiture because I like people, I enjoy looking at them, observing them, and the camera is an extension of the eye that legitimizes that gaze.
When I started using a medium-format camera and working with analog photography, it allowed me to reinvent my process and start from scratch. I could truly delve into what it meant to make a portrait. It's about humanity and our interest in ourselves, our fascination with the human figure. We're intrigued by what we do, where we are, how we feel, how we dress. We're interested in the surface of ourselves, and we're also interested in our inner lives. There's a curiosity about human psychology. All these things are within the human shell, and our shell is very dominant when we're alive, sitting in front of a camera.
There's undeniably something magnetically captivating about photographic portraiture that defies explanation. I often wonder whose identity it truly represents. Is it really that of the subject, or is it something internal in me, etched into my memory in a powerful way? Perhaps a fragment - a mere moment in time - is, after all, the best way to connect with another person.
One of the portraits that I believe holds tremendous power is Richard Avedon's portrait of Marilyn Monroe. To me, it epitomizes an unguarded portrait. Apparently, it was taken at a moment when she didn't realize the camera was supposed to be "on," and it captures what I surmise is exactly the opposite of what she was trying to portray, likely her typical flirtatious persona. But what it truly reveals is a person who seems lost within herself, gazing deeply inward.
Now, of course, no one knows what Marilyn was feeling at that moment, and we all know that photography is the best truth-teller and the best liar, all at the same time. Things appear magically different when they are photographed, as Mr. Gary Winogrand used to say. So that leaves us with what I believe is the most important aspect of photography: that we, the viewers, fill the photograph with meaning and bring our own issues and concerns with us.
As a teacher, I always advise that to create portraits, one must be kind. Being kind is the most important aspect. After that, everything else can fall into place, but if you're not kind, you won't achieve any meaningful portraits. Then, you need to prepare with a plan on how you're going to create the portrait. In my case, whenever I'm about to photograph someone, I prepare the lighting scheme and decide on the background. In the case of indoor photography, I usually explore the location beforehand and try to anticipate how the lighting will be and modify it if necessary (and if possible, of course).
Sometimes it's useful to communicate well with the person you're working with. However, I've also discovered that not giving specific directions can lead to something that appears very believable and less scripted, which ultimately makes the photograph better. I always avoid things that couldn't have happened because I want the sense of reality to permeate my work, whether I've completely constructed the image or not.
Another very important aspect is the wardrobe. It's obviously a significant component in photographs. You can go with whatever the person is wearing if you're tied to reality, but if you're not, it's great if the person brings various different outfits, as having the right clothing can make a big difference.
I typically opt for solid dark colors because it highlights their face in the resulting portrait.
Much of a good portrait photograph lies in the psychological power of color and mysterious implications. The exterior of a house at night could be considered in some way a portrait of the people who inhabit it. Although everyone will see it differently. As an artist, I've always felt that my task isn't to create meaning but to charge the air so that meaning can happen. In my photos of people or places, I see something of myself. It's no mystery that we can only effectively photograph what truly interests us or, perhaps more importantly, what concerns us, often unconsciously. Otherwise, the photographs are merely about an idea or concept, and those things fall flat for me. There has to be something more, some emotional hook, for it to really work.
I know, I know. Portrait photography is challenging. Interacting closely with someone, especially if that person is someone you don't know, can be an anxiety-inducing, nerve-wracking, and confrontational experience on both sides of the lens. As a photographer, you have to be a quick reader of people and be able to capture the small details that individualize the subject: their gestures, and so on. It's all about chemistry, whether it's good or bad. Interesting things can come from both types of interactions.
