Getting a Snapshot Portrait Worth Framing
I’m sure we all have many chances to whip out a pocket camera and take a quick snapshot portrait of friends and family. Usually these opportunities are in less than ideal conditions, and quite often the subject isn’t exactly happy about having their portrait taken just then so if you’re anything like me, most of your snapshot portraits are not something you’d want to put on the wall. Their only value is to help you personally remember the moment.
I had an opportunity like that at a Chinese restaurant last week. I went to lunch with two sixth graders who had worked on a speech contest with me and their mothers. After we all took a group picture, I asked the boy if he would mind sitting for a snapshot portrait real quick. Of course he would mind. What 12 year old boy wants to sit there while his English teacher takes his picture? But he really is a forbearing kid, and reluctantly agreed.
I knew I only had a matter of seconds to get it right before his patience wore thin. I tried natural lighting first, but since I had no tripod, it was just a blur, so on went the flash. Next I just asked him to say “swimming.” (I hate having people say “cheese” – must be where the expression “cheesy grin” comes from.) That was a disaster. His eyes were squinted to nearly closed, and he had a painful grimace that would have convinced you he had appendicitis.
There are three really beautiful qualities about this boy. His hair’s always standing on end like an oriental version of Tom Sawyer, he has a quizzical half smile on his face much like the Mona Lisa even when he’s being serious, and his black half moon eyes fill up a huge part of his face. I think in order to take a successful snapshot, you really need to stop and think about what makes that person beautiful or unique, and try to capture it.
In this case, I couldn’t emphasize the hair. The flash made it blend into the background. So I asked him not to smile (the smile would be there anyway) and to look up. He promptly pointed his whole head at the ceiling, and all I got was neck, so I asked him to look down, and then move only his eyes up to the ceiling. Viola. It wouldn’t win a photo contest, but it captures this particular boy’s strengths, and when I showed it to his mother, she nearly wept. I’ll be giving her a print, and I know it will be displayed somewhere, even though it’s only a quick snapshot portrait with a pocket camera in a dark restaurant.
Now if only I had asked him to fix his collar…