I make tintype portraits in Salt Lake City.
One plate, poured and exposed and developed by hand while you sit in front of me. No file, no retouching, no second chance — and nothing between us but the time it takes.
How I got Here
I fell for large format portraits in 2005, and I have been practicing wet plate seriously since 2016 — the year large format Polaroid was discontinued and the alternative stopped being a hobby.
Before that I took the long way round. I studied photojournalism, then spent years writing and photographing for magazines in the outdoor industry — that work is still online, in the film archive and the digital archive. As print dried up I followed the money into advertising and worked as a creative director, helping businesses build their brand identities; that portfolio is here. I taught and mentored in the same field for a while. Then I left all of it to run a river guiding business, which lasted until covid closed it.
The whole time, a complicated hobby kept quietly getting more attention than the career did. In 2022 I started marketing the portrait work. It has not been smooth, and it has not made me rich, but I have not looked back once — and it means I do not have to work on the days I have my daughter.
How I work
My approach is a contemporary one. I am interested in wet plate as a living medium, not as a re-enactment of a particular decade.
I am not a chemist. I am not a gear head. I think the human part is the most important part of the process. Making, shooting and developing a plate in front of someone is a situation that demands respect — if I could get the same reverence out of a digital camera or a phone, I would.
The medium requires stillness, patience and a certain vulnerability from everyone involved. That is the part I actually want. It gives me permission to slow down and pay attention: to shape the light, build the pose, direct an expression, find the composition. All of it is an attempt to get someone's whole self onto one piece of metal. I seldom manage it. The pursuit is what keeps me going.
Still Learning
I am constantly pushing and tweaking, and the fastest way I have found to grow is to work alongside other people — events, pop-ups, gallery shows, and at least one afternoon making portraits inside a derelict prison.
If you sit for me, here is what you get: I will pay close attention, push you a little, and do what I can to make sure you leave with more than you came with. We will have a serious amount of fun doing it — the kind that occasionally involves a ruined plate, a deep breath, and trying it again.