©Bryan Formhals

I fear portraiture more than any other type of photography, except perhaps for the type where bombs, guns and insurgents are involved.  That aside, if you’re working in the fine art or documentary territory I can’t really think of anything more confounding, perplex and complicated than portraiture.  If you’re shooting candidly it’s all about instincts, reacting, anticipating, getting lucky, failing and shooting a shitload. Ok, that’s simplistic too, but something like that. If you’re shooting landscapes it’s really about wandering and making the shapes work out.  And of course, no matter what, it always helps to attempt to work at the highest level and have an idea of the type of photographs you want to live with.

With portraiture, there’s no escaping, no ignoring, no hiding and waiting for something to happen. It’s you and the subject.  And you better know what you’re doing otherwise you’re going to fuck up the dynamic.  An uncertain photographer staring at you with a camera can be incredibly uncomfortable. As if standing or sitting for a portrait isn’t uncomfortable enough.  So  yeah, it’s challenging and there’s so much more than the simple act of photographing involved.  It’s about an ephemeral relationship.

The only type of portraiture I’ve even attempted has been of the candid variety, capturing a friend in a little moment. They’d know I was photographing but would never really know when I’d pop the flash or raise the viewfinder to my eye.  It was all about me. They, the most critical component in the photograph, had no control.  They just had to trust me and go about their business.

I’ll always be interested in candid photography and working as closely as possible.  But it’s a completely different story when you level the playing field and allow the subject into the secret world.  It’s this dynamic that I fear.  Giving away the control that I’ve become addicted to. My photography has always been on my terms, when I want, where I want, how often I want.  And now, I feel if I don’t change the dynamic, I may end up in a conceptual game of chess with myself that has no end.  It’s time to allow other people to participate.

At the end of my time in Los Angeles, when I was drunk enough at the bar, I’d start to ask people if I could take their photograph.  Almost all would say yes, and at that moment a door was opened. I could feel the energy. Photorapher eye to eye with a willing subject.  As subtle as it may have been, I could sense people dropping their guard a bit and putting some trust in me.  Then I felt the crushing weight of responsibilty that goes with making a portrait.  At this point, you are not allowed to suck.  And as the photograph above demonstrates, I still suck very much.  But I never expected it would work like magic. Nothing does. It takes work, discipline, studying and an enormous amount of self-reflection.  Why do I want to do this?  Why do I wan to make a portrait of this person? I feel I’m getting closer to answering these questions.  I feel it’s time I enter the wilderness of portraiture.  I’m going to start with my friends. Work close, and branch out.  Eventually I want to get to a point where I’m like my good friend Ben Roberts and can stop people cold on the streets of New York and persuade them to enter into the wilderness with me for a few moments.  I have the fear…but I’m excited.