Miranda

There’s something a little different about pointing a camera at your own wife. I’ve photographed hundreds of faces over the last twenty years, but as always, when photographing Miranda, there’s always that little bit … ok, a lot of (admittedly self-imposed) added pressure. Once again, she was in front of the lens, but this time with her flute in hand.

Miranda has been playing flute and piano for many years and knows at least three chords on guitar. Through many years of quiet observation, I’ve always thought there was something powerful about musicians when they’re holding their instrument. It’s not a prop. It’s an extension of who they are. So when I decided to keep building out my black and white musician portrait series, she was always going to be part of it. This felt like the right time. Especially as she came to me and said: “Ok, let’s do the shoot.”

I had recently picked up the Nikon 20mm 1.8 S lens, and this shoot was my first real chance to put it through its paces. It’s a different way of seeing things compared to the 50mm I usually reach for. Wider, more environmental, a lens that pulls you into the space around the subject rather than isolating them from it. For a portrait session, that’s a bit of a departure, but I wanted to see how it handled the kind of style of portrait I was chasing, wide to the point of distortion, collaborating with the high contrast, dramatic lighting I’m building my work around.

There’s a new excitement to some of the images that comes from getting a bit closer and purposely pushing the physics of a photograph in slightly different ways. It’s the same philosophy I take from the masters, stripped back, honest, just approached from a slightly different, albeit wider angle this time.

I keep coming back to musician portraits because there’s a rawness to musicians that translates so well to black and white. No color to distract, just light, shadow, and expression. Miranda picking up her flute for this session reminded me why I started this project in the first place. Every person who sits for one of these portraits brings their own relationship with their instrument, and that shows up on their face whether they mean it to or not.

I’m looking forward to doing a lot more of these sessions. There are more musicians I want to work with, more stories to capture in that same stripped back style.

This shoot also had me thinking about where else this approach could go. I’ve spent a long time in the roller derby community, both photographing it and officiating, and I want to bring that same high contrast, honest portrait style to the skaters and community who make that world what it is.

Alongside that, I want to turn my camera on photographers themselves. It’s a strange thing being on the other side of someone else’s lens when you spend most of your life on this side of your own. There’s something worth capturing in the people who spend their careers capturing everyone else.

And funnily enough, Miranda has a foot in all of these worlds. She’s a long-term member of the roller derby community, and she’s a well-established professional photographer in her own right, which means these categories aren’t as separate as they might first appear. It’s all connected, and I like that.

More sessions to come. Stay tuned.

Richard Mayle is a portrait photographer from the Bayside area of Melbourne. After nearly 20 years of photographing in colour, he has turned his gaze towards his love of black and white and the work of the masters.

To organise your own session, fill out the form on the Contact page.