On taking portraits and my daylight atelier.
As of this year [2024] I have gotten back into taking portraits. My passion for photography started with taking portraits. Especially when I discovered the black and white button in Lightroom. It was in 2019 when I took a portrait of the “Model.” Her face showed a play of light and dark with mesmerizing shadows of leaves, perfectly highlighting her eye. Turning this image into black and white ignited my love for black and white. A love that continues to grow. Now, 5 years later, this is how I perceive the world around me. Through a lens of black and white. In the meantime, I have done lots of portraits. In studios with artificial light. In daylight studios. On the streets and in many various places. Now my own living room is my atelier: I just move my dinner table and the room becomes my daylight atelier. A safe place.
I want to briefly touch on my “Daylight atelier” and the importance of it to my portrait photographs. The atelier being my living room and the living room being my atelier has major benefits to the work itself. Let me sketch you an image of how the atelier is set up. One wall I’ve painted by hand, using three shades of grey, a sponge, a brush, and an old cloth. And some good music. This combination created my backdrop. The backdrop for almost all of my recent portraits. On the right-hand side of this wall, there is one big window. Facing the east, these 7 square meters of glass on the 4th floor of the building catch sunsets perfectly. When the sun sets the light dances on my wall, creating a unique play every evening. I can watch the daylight change throughout the seasons and use this in my work. There is no other place on earth where I can predict the light better than here.
There are moments when I take my chair and sit down to watch the light die. Then watch it fade away. Although it is the one thing I can’t control, I know it best. I let the light guide me. It sets the mood, it takes the lead in our dance. The dance between me, the one in front of my lens, and the light.
The fact the “Atelier” is also my home and living room brings a sense of trust to the one in front of the camera. As I said: it’s a safe place. A “professional” studio could feel too serious. To me, the most important aspect of a good portrait is comfort and trust. I’ve learned that these two elements are essential pillars to create one’s best work. It establishes the connection between me and the one in front of the lens. Once this connection is there, the dance starts and time seems to fade away. The world outside my window no longer exists and the atelier is a universe in itself. Through my glass eye, I reach out and enter the soul of the one on the other side.
During these portrait sessions, I have the most profound conversations. I strongly believe that a good portrait is 50% conversation, more specifically: being a good listener. Playing with light adds another 25%. Pressing the shutter button 24%. And 1% is for good luck, for the unexpected turn of events. I envy painters, poets, and composers who are able to create their work after the encounter with their objects of inspiration. Photography by its nature requires unity of time and place of the photographerand the portrayed. Inviting someone in front of my lens is a very personal act. An act that takes me out of my comfort zone. And I have to admit that many pictures are yet left untaken due to the fac that I did not find the courage to drop the question. I still remember faces. Faces I will probably never see again. Because they crossed me in a street of a foreign country. Because the person passed away.
I consider taking portraits as a celebration of life. To freeze a moment in time. To dance with the ever-changing light. To capture someone’s portrait is a privileged and fulfilling journey.
Have a look at my portraits
Brent Souverein 200724