Dad, Hampton Ponds III, 2002
© Mitch Epstein
Miguel Garcia-Guzman of Exposure Compensation and Joerg Colberg of Conscientious ask, “what makes a great portrait?”
They received responses from Timothy Briner, Thomas Broening, Chris Buck, David Burnett, Doug Dubois, Joakim Eskildsen, Rob Haggart, Bruce Haley, Bill Hunt, Kalpesh Lathigra, Jason Lazarus, Colin Pantall, Amy Stein, Bill Sullivan, Tribble & Mancenido, Brian Ulrich, Peter van Agtmael and Dylan Vitone.
I took a little too long thinking about how to properly respond to such a question and, as a result, I sent my answer to Joerg and Miguel late in the game. I felt it was hard to get into detail without getting into a lot of detail and spent the last few nights writing long-winded explanations that would just leave me having to write more to explain myself. In the end, my final response was this, which really puts how I feel about a large and captivating subject into very few words: “A successful portrait elicits feeling in an honest account of a person [or place].”
Furthermore, I would add, a great portrait will often make viewer forget that the photography is present.
Mitch Epstein‘s portrait of his father will never fail to move me.
Read all of the responses here.
I encourage readers to offer their thoughts on this thread.
6 Comments
February 6, 2008 – 6:40 am
To me, what’s important in a portrait is the person photographed. He or she has a decisive part in the picture, as he should be aware that he has to drop the border between him and the photographer, in some kind of abandon state…
Then, the light, the framing is just the cherry on the cake, if that makes any sense in english…
Maybe I’m a bit cheesy, just my own 2 cents…
February 6, 2008 – 9:22 am
I think one of the best explanations IÄôve ever heard about portraiture is that:
ÄúIt is more about the space between you and the subject. It is your reaction to the person depictedÄù ÄìAlec Soth
This is of course something completely subjective. So perhaps when a photograph has the ability to be interesting, or even to go so far as to say, moving, for a wide range of people, that could be considered a great portrait. As Roland has stated, the exploration and discourse of the photographic portrait is often described as ÄúcheesyÄù and rightly so. It is the ability to convey or reveal a set of mysterious elements in a person that is thrust upon the viewer in a deeply meaningful way. It is inherently emotional and warrants an emotional response. Now thatÄôs cheesy!
February 6, 2008 – 8:04 pm
I was happy to see Jason Lazarus said this:
“3) The removal of the subject, well illustrated by Christian Patterson’s picture ‘Ernestine’s Portraits’… Christian does not make portraits, but this picture i consider a great portrait! Circumventing the conventions of portraiture, for me, often creates compelling possibilities.”
Its nice to hear I’m not the only one looking at portraiture with that train of thought.
I tried to make a post a couple of days ago about certain types of portraits that felt lifeless in some respects because of how the person in the frame was being captured. Some portraits fall into a category of having no person-to-person relationship. I was using a friends photograph where the subject was unaware, but the more I thought about it the more I started to realize that it wasn’t about the person being unaware of the camera, but maybe more about the photographer being unaware of person he/she is shooting, and because of this they cannot transcend a certain plain in their own mind.
February 7, 2008 – 4:23 pm
I think a great portrait reveals something about the subject, or communicates an essence. When I see life or feeling in the eyes it can be great. Yet I also see “greatness” in the work of Scott Schuman on “The Sartorialist” whose fashion portraits are outstanding in their craft and in communicating with the viewer.
February 8, 2008 – 11:12 pm
A portrait is nothing about the truth, neither in the subject, nor in the viewer, not the photographer…
It is a lie for all…
February 8, 2008 – 11:13 pm
And the best one’s… brilliant lies.