Why I Look Slowly

I have never really believed that a good portrait is made by quickly putting someone in the right position.

Of course you can ask someone to sit upright. Turn a little to the left. Chin slightly down. Eyes towards the lens. All of that can be useful. Sometimes it is even necessary.

But that is not yet a person.

It is a posture.

For me, a portrait usually begins when that posture briefly disappears.

That rarely happens on command. It happens in conversation. In silence. In the moment someone stops thinking about how they look and is simply present.

That is why I look slowly.

Not because I want to be slow. Not because I want to make things difficult. But because much of what is real does not show itself immediately.

A hand on a coat. A look that changes when the past is mentioned. A small relaxation in the shoulders. Someone who suddenly stops trying to become a good photograph.

That is often where the image is.

I used to think photography was mainly about catching the right moment. That is still true. But I have learned that a moment also needs room to happen.

That is not the same as waiting.

Waiting is passive. Attention is not.

Attention means staying present without pushing. Looking without fixing someone in place. Creating enough room for a person not to perform for the camera.

Maybe that is also why I am less drawn to fast images that mainly try to convince. They are often clever. Sharp, clear, technically fine.

But sometimes you cannot feel any time in them.

And without time, a photograph quickly becomes thin.

I prefer images that stay a little longer. Not because they are spectacular, but because there is something human in them. Something you cannot point to immediately, but can feel.

That, to me, is character.

Not acting tough. Not looking interesting. Not a trick.

Character is what becomes visible when someone is given enough room not to resemble an image.

That is why I work the way I work.

With coffee if that helps. With silence if that is better. With patience, even when the image only appears after twenty minutes.

And sometimes, suddenly, it is there.

Then I do not need to say much.

I can see it happening.

A face is no longer a pose, but a presence.

And that is exactly why I look slowly.