Portrait Photography Speed Dating
Over recent years I have been drawn increasingly into the world of portrait photography. There is something about sitting opposite a person and attempting to capture their likeness as you, the photographer, perceive it. It did not take me long to realise that, as humans, we have an internal opinion of what we look like to the rest of the world.
When someone sits in front of me, with a camera between us, almost without fail, you will see a facade appear across their face. A subconscious effort to project outwardly how they want the world to perceive them. I call this the wall. We all have it to some degree, and our past will play a considerable part in how big or high that wall may be. To navigate around this wall, there needs to be an openness to vulnerability from the sitter and the photographer. In a short space of time, a relationship is required. Therein lies my fascination with this form of photography.
As mentioned in my previous post, I am in Belgium to document the professional cycling season-opening races. As I write this, I am sitting most gratefully in a sunny room in my Airbnb, feeling somewhat exhausted but at the same time energised and appreciative of the fantastic experience I have had these past weeks.
I was under no illusions about the challenge I had set myself by coming out here and attempting to follow a path I now know to be correct. (note: where the way leads still needs to be discovered). I was also under no illusions about the level at which the other photographers operate. They are the best of the best at what they do.
When documenting a bike race, everything happens quickly, and I mean everything! These racers are flying past at anything from 35-55 km/h. In the blink of an eye, you need to decide the shot's composition, the direction of light, and your camera settings and still be able to execute.
If you want to test your skills (and the ability of your camera), try to take a picture of a pro cyclist as they approach from behind you as you line the shot up ahead of where they will fly around a corner. You can see it in your mind's eye; they will fly past, into your frame, bank over and take the corner with speed and CLICK! Either you will have your focus manually set for where you think the action will be, or you trust all the money you paid for this camera will provide you with suitably effective autofocus.
Needless to say, there are a lot of variables that need to go right for you to get the shot. This does not take into account the crowds blocking the road in front of you only to part like the Red Sea milliseconds before the rider flies past. And then, just like that, they are gone! Over an hour spent navigating to arrive at this 'perfect location' for one shot, and it's over in the blink of an eye. That's where cycling is so different to other sports. There is no track or field that offers a photographer numerous opportunities to capture something suitable. You have one shot.
Now I realise that the photographers at the pointy end of this game are on motorbikes and therefore can create a few more opportunities out on the course. This, however, does not guarantee success. Many stars have to align to get the results they do. And that they can do this week in and week out is truly unique.
So it was with that in mind that instead of trying to emulate what these seasoned professionals were creating, I should try first to concentrate on my strengths and build up from there. I am a documentary photographer and an observer of everyday moments, and I, too, am a portrait photographer. My creative strengths lay in the ability to slow things down, observe a situation before me, and then capture and interpret the moment as I see it. The trick was to find a way to overlap this process with the incredible pace of bike racing.
It took me only a short time to realise that each race's start and finish area would be where I would create my best work. The part that fascinates me is that you could not have a more fantastic juxtaposition than before and after a professional bike race. As a note, when I talk about racers, I am referring to both the men's and women's pelotons as they exhibit similar emotional states before and after a race.
At the start, riders are relatively calm and understand their duties regarding the press and smiling for the camera and the crowds. Some are chatty; some seem sullen with mirrored sunglasses perched firmly atop the bridge of their noses. Overall it is calm and relatively easy to move in and out of designated press areas to gain access to riders and teams. This is when I go into documentary mode or 'wedding photographer' mode, as one of my new photographer friends pointed out.
The end of a race is a different kettle of fish. Standing there in the finish line chute with team members waiting for their riders to arrive, some joking around, probably because their rider is about to win. While others are more subdued as their team has had one of those luckless days, and they now want to get back on the team bus and head to the hotel.
This part of the race is, without a doubt, my favourite. The anticipation of the oncoming rush of riders, the chaotic circus that then ensues as soigneurs, riders and members of the press swarm to capture the decisive moment of the day's event. It's a fine balance between rushing in to try to capture the rider's elation as they cross the line and standing back to observe how the moment might unfold. Then when the time is right, step in to take the shot. It's easy for us as photographers, like the riders we are capturing, to get swept up in all the chaos.
What I am learning, though, is as the adrenalin starts to subside, the rider will often experience a brief moment of reflection on what they have just put themselves through. Be that winning the race or having a big crash but still managing to get over the finish line. It is this moment I am looking for. It is this short view behind 'the wall' that will provide me with the portrait I am looking for. Perhaps that is why the title of this post seemed appropriate. It is like speed dating, bouncing from one person to the next, trying to connect and learn something about them before moving on.
I am still new to this world, but quickly, I am finding my feet and learning the ropes. Part of that process is learning to be brave enough to trust one's gut feeling. I am not here to imitate or replicate. I am here to take pictures my way.
Remember, there will always be doubters, people who have things to say (or nothing to say) and want to put you down. That's just part of life. But I promise you if you go about your day graciously and kindly in a way that is authentic to who you truly are, those voices will soon drown out. They are replaced with the sound of excitement and belief and a knowing. A knowing that although at times you feel apprehensive or scared, you also know you are heading in the right direction.
So trust the process and lean in because, as Denzel says, "if you are going to fall, fall forwards".
Thanks for reading.