What Portraits Have Taught Me About People

Years ago, a man walked into my studio carrying a bag of marbles.

At the time, I was photographing subjects for REVEALED: Personal Visions of Transformation and Discovery, a ten-year portrait project that eventually included more than 200 participants from coast to coast. The project became a book, documentary film, NPR collaboration, museum solo exhibition, and traveling exhibit.

For each portrait, I asked subjects to bring objects that represented their spiritual experience and place them inside a small wooden box.

Some subjects arrived with photographs. Others brought heirlooms or objects that immediately sparked ideas. This man brought marbles.If I'm being honest, my first thought was, What am I supposed to do with that?

It wasn't a proud moment.

It wasn't something I said out loud.

But it was an assumption.

By the end of the session, I realized I had been judging the idea before giving it a chance. More importantly, I had been making assumptions about the person before taking the time to understand him.

That portrait session taught me something I've carried with me ever since.

Curiosity will almost always take you further than assumptions.

The longer I photograph people, the more important that lesson becomes.

Portraits Begin Before the Camera Comes Out

When possible, I like to learn something about a subject before we meet.

Not because I'm trying to impress them.

I'm looking for a place to begin.

Years ago, I was assigned to photograph the CEO of a large corporation. Before the assignment, I was warned not to waste his time and to keep the session brief.

While researching him, I discovered he owned a 40-foot Herreshoff racing sailboat.

What he didn't know was that I had grown up racing Herreshoff boats.

When we met, the conversation quickly shifted from business to sailing. We talked about Newport, classic boats, and experiences on the water. What was expected to be a short portrait session became a genuine conversation.

Years later, I would sail with him aboard that same boat.

The portrait wasn't successful because we talked about sailing.

It was successful because we found common ground.

The camera wasn't the starting point.

The connection was.

Everyone Wants to Be Seen

Whether I'm photographing a CEO, a physician, a student, or someone participating in a personal project, I've learned that most people want the same thing.

They want to be seen for who they are, not who others assume they are.

That sounds simple, but it isn't.

• We all make assumptions.

• We notice appearances.

• Job titles.

• Clothing.

• Age.

• Confidence.

The stories we tell ourselves about people often begin before they ever speak.

Photography can fall into that trap too.

Recently, I watched Canon's "The Lab: Decoy," an experiment where six photographers were given different background information about the same subject before creating a portrait. The resulting images were remarkably different.

The experiment wasn't really about the subject.

It was about perception.

Each photographer responded to the story they had been given. Their assumptions influenced what they noticed, what they emphasized, and ultimately what kind of portrait they created.

That idea stayed with me because I think it happens more often than we'd like to admit.

Not just in photography.

In life.

REVEALED taught me that the most meaningful portraits often emerge when curiosity replaces assumption and people are given space to reveal themselves.

Looking Beyond the Obvious

One of the reasons REVEALED became such an important project for me was because it forced me to slow down and listen.

The project wasn't really about the objects people brought.

It was about the conversations that followed.

People often arrived believing they had selected something simple to represent their spiritual experience. As we talked, deeper stories emerged. Sometimes the object wasn't the story at all. It was simply the doorway into a much larger conversation.

Again and again, I found myself surprised.

People revealed parts of themselves that weren't immediately visible.

The more curious I became, the more interesting the portraits became.

And the more interesting the people became.

What Hands Reveal

One of the unexpected lessons from REVEALED had nothing to do with lighting, posing, or camera equipment.

It came from watching people's hands.

Over time, I noticed that hands often revealed emotional states before facial expressions did.

• Confidence.

• Anxiety.

• Excitement.

• Discomfort.

• Uncertainty.

I've seen portraits where someone wears a perfect smile, yet their hands tell a completely different story.

Once I became aware of it, I started noticing hands everywhere.

They often reveal the emotions people are trying hardest to hide.

Sometimes the strongest portrait isn’t the pose itself. It’s the unexpected moment that happens in between.

Looking for the Unguarded Moment

When people think about portrait photography, they often imagine the pose.

The smile.

The expression.

The moment when the photographer says, "Hold that."

What interests me most usually happens somewhere in between.

I may ask someone to shift their posture, look in a certain direction, or hold a specific expression. But often the photograph I'm looking for isn't the pose itself.

It's the moment before.

Or after.

The unexpected reaction.

The brief expression I never asked for.

The instant someone stops performing for the camera and simply becomes themselves.

One of my favorite portraits from recent years happened during a conversation that drifted far beyond the assignment. We found ourselves talking about life, travel, and shared experiences. At several points, I had to pull us back toward the portrait because the conversation had become more engaging than the task itself.

That connection created something I couldn't have planned.

The portrait felt honest.

Not because of the lighting.

Not because of the location.

Because for a brief moment, there was no performance.

Just a person.

When Connection Doesn't Happen

Connecting with subjects is important to me.

That doesn't mean I need to become friends with everyone I photograph.

Most portrait sessions are brief encounters.

But I do hope to find some level of connection, even if it's only for a few minutes.

Some people open up immediately.

Others take time.

Occasionally, a connection never fully develops.

I've photographed subjects where conversation felt guarded and minimal. I've also photographed people who wanted to talk nonstop.

Sometimes I've even felt uncomfortable myself.

Not every interaction comes naturally.

Not every personality is an easy fit.

The challenge is finding enough common ground to create trust while keeping the portrait moving forward.

When that happens, something meaningful often follows.

When it doesn't, the photographs may still be successful, but I sometimes leave feeling like I missed an opportunity to understand the person standing in front of me.

Curiosity Over Assumption

The man with the marbles still comes back to me from time to time.

Not because of the marbles.

Because of what I learned.

The man with the marbles taught me one of the most important lessons of the REVEALED project: don’t decide who someone is before they’ve had a chance to show you.

I realized I was judging ideas before giving them a chance.

I realized I wasn't as open-minded as I thought I was.

Most importantly, I realized that every person carries a story that isn't immediately visible.

The longer I photograph people, the more convinced I become that great portraits aren't created by assumptions.

They're created through curiosity.

The willingness to listen.

The willingness to observe.

The willingness to remain open to being surprised.

Because sometimes the most truthful portrait isn't the one you planned.

It's the unguarded moment you never saw coming.