Stories

One portrait,
one story.

The words of those who passed through the gallery — how they arrived, what they feared, what they took home.

Female portrait with closed eyes, a serene expression

The fear of not coming out well

“I’m not photogenic.”

It’s the phrase we hear most often, almost always at the door, like a defensive preamble. Those who say it usually carry years of photos endured — taken in a rush, in the wrong light, at the wrong moments.

That’s why with us the portrait never begins with the photograph: it begins with a conversation. Time does its work, trust does the rest. And when the moment comes to choose the images, that opening phrase has already dissolved on its own.

The portrait in two

What binds two people shows.

Couples often arrive thinking they must “look good” together. The couple portrait seeks something else: the way two people belong to each other — a hand, a distance, a look they’ve known for years.

They are the quietest images we make, and the ones that age best: in twenty years they won’t tell of how you were dressed, but of how you looked at each other.

A time entirely your own

Ninety minutes outside the calendar.

Some arrive for a specific occasion, others simply to treat themselves. In the gallery the phone stays in the bag, time slows down: we talk, we laugh, we truly look at one another.

Many tell us on the way out: more than the portrait, it’s the ritual that stays with you. The framed work, weeks later, is how that afternoon goes on living in the home.

Children

No one has to stay still.

With children the portrait follows their lead, step by step. We play, we wait, we let curiosity run its course — and at some point that look arrives, the real one, that parents recognise at first glance.

These are the portraits that grow in value over time: in ten years that face will be gone, and that print will remain.

Portrait of a child with blond curls, a surprised expression

Portrait of an older gentleman, a hand in his hair

The portrait at a certain age

The best faces arrive late.

Some think the portrait is a thing for the young. We think the opposite: a face that has lived has more to say, and the light knows it. Wrinkles aren’t hidden — they take the light beautifully.

Often it’s the children who give their parents the appointment. Then something curious happens in the gallery: the one who came “to do a favour” is the one who enjoys it most.

One portrait,one story.