Why a good portrait in portrait photography begins where posing ends.

A good portrait doesn't show a person at their best, but at their most authentic. Read why posing is the enemy of a true portrait.

Look at the camera. Or maybe not.

Why a good portrait in portrait photography begins where posing ends

"Look at the camera."

It's probably one of the most commonly used phrases in portrait photography. And perhaps one of the worst.

Because what happens the moment you say it? Someone stops what they were doing. Their expression changes. Their posture straightens. The corners of their mouth turn up slightly. And suddenly, it’s no longer just a person looking at your camera, but someone trying to look their best in the photo.

Click.

Technically, it could be a perfect photo. Beautiful light. The eyes are in focus. A calm background. Good composition. And yet, something is missing.

The person.

We often photograph how someone thinks they should look

Set up a camera in front of someone, and something fascinating happens. People suddenly become self-conscious.

"What should I do with my hands?" "Should I smile?" "Does this look okay?" "Can you take a picture from my best angle?"

I see it time and time again. Not because people don't want to be photographed, but because a camera can instantly make you feel like you're being judged.

So we're going to adjust our posture. Chin up a little. Tuck in your stomach. Straighten your shoulders. Smile. And the photographer happily helps out.

"Turn a little to the left." "Tilt down a little." "Pull your shoulder back." "Yes, perfect. Hold that."

But what did we actually photograph? The person standing in front of us? Or our version of what that person should look like?

A good portrait doesn't have to be perfect

Perhaps that's one of the biggest misconceptions about portrait photography. We think a good portrait should show someone at their best.

I think a good portrait should, above all, show a person as they truly are.

That's a different matter.

A face isn't symmetrical. A smile doesn't have to be perfect. A shirt doesn't have to be perfectly smooth everywhere. And someone certainly doesn't have to look directly into the camera all the time.

It's precisely those little things that make someone recognizable.

The raised eyebrow. The gaze that wanders for a moment. A hand that moves while speaking. The smile that appears only after the formal smile has faded.

Those are often the moments when I think, “There you are.” And then I take the picture.

Make it stand out

The raised eyebrow. The gaze that wanders for a moment. A hand that moves while speaking. The smile that appears only after the formal smile has faded.

Those are often the moments when I think, “There you are.” And then I take the picture.

Sometimes the most interesting photo is created after the photo is taken

There’s a moment during almost every portrait session when something changes. The initial tension fades. The person gets used to the camera. We talk. We laugh. Sometimes I tell them we’ve got the shot, and they literally let their shoulders drop.

And that's exactly when it happens. The pose disappears. The expression changes. The face relaxes. For a few seconds, the person is no longer focused on being photographed.

For me, those are often the most interesting moments of a shoot. Not because the other photos are bad, but because something suddenly becomes visible that you can't stage.

Someone momentarily forgets how he wanted to pose for the photo.

Why do so many business portraits look so similar?

Take a look at twenty random business websites. You'll recognize them.

Arms crossed. Body slightly tilted. Head facing the camera. Smile. Perhaps an office wall in the background, or an industrial wall. These days, maybe a plant in the background, out of focus somewhere in a corner.

Nothing wrong with that. But if you replace the person, the photo often still works. And that’s exactly where, for me, something gets lost.

A professional portrait of an entrepreneur, executive, or employee shouldn’t just say, “This is what this person looks like.” It should also convey something about: “Who is this person standing before me?”

Calm or energy. Openness or determination. Curiosity. Experience. Humor. Vulnerability. Authority. Maybe even a little bit of discomfort.

Not everything has to be smoothed out. After all, people aren't like that either.

A camera doesn't see. A photographer does.

These days, a good camera can do an incredible number of things. It recognizes eyes, tracks faces, adjusts the exposure in a flash, and focuses better than we could ever do by hand.

But there's one thing he can't do: tell when someone is truly being themselves.

To do that, you have to pay attention—not just to the lighting, background, and composition, but to the person in front of you. How does someone move? When do they relax? What do they start talking about enthusiastically? What happens to their face when they’re no longer focused on the camera?

Make it stand out

That’s why, for me, portrait photography doesn’t start with taking pictures. It starts with observing. With talking. With trust. And sometimes just with doing nothing for a moment.

Three meters to the side

In my photography, one thought keeps coming back to me: if you stand where everyone else stands, you see what everyone else sees.

Sometimes you literally just need to step three meters to the side to get a completely different perspective. In portrait photography, that’s actually exactly how it works. It’s just that it’s not always three meters. Sometimes, as a photographer, you mainly have to step aside—figuratively speaking.

Your own ideas about how someone should stand. How someone should look. What should be considered professional. What should be considered beautiful. What a “good portrait” should be.

Set that aside for a moment. And see what's left.

Maybe that is a good portrait after all

Not the photo in which someone is posing perfectly. Not necessarily the photo with the biggest smile. And not even always the technically most perfect shot.

But that one photo where someone looks at the picture and doesn't say, "I look great in that," but instead says, "Yeah. That's me."

That's why I do it. Because, at the end of the day, I'd rather photograph a person than a pose.

And maybe that's why a good portrait begins at the very moment someone forgets there's a camera there.

Looking for a portrait photographer who sees beyond the pose? Discover my approach in [my workshops] or view examples of past portrait sessions in my [portfolio].