Friendly Competition

I’ve never really seen other photographers as competition. To me, they’ve always just represented different perspectives and unique processes. Two photographers can shoot the same subject and produce completely different results—and there’s more than enough room for everyone to shine. As Parliament Funkadelic put it, “Everybody’s got a little light under the sun.” That’s always been my outlook. Still, photography has an undercurrent of “alpha energy” to it. So, from time to time, we find ourselves in these unofficial, unspoken competitions—friendly ones, of course—when the conditions are right. I remember one such occasion a few years back when I was invited to a photo meetup.

Now, I’ve never been a huge fan of these gatherings, for a few reasons. First, there are usually far more photographers than models, which means you’re often jockeying for time and angles—taking turns instead of building a rhythm. Second, I prefer using my own gear—the tools I trust and have invested in. Third, not everyone works at the same speed or skill level, which can create awkward dynamics. And fourth, the collaborative connection between photographer and subject—the flow—is usually hard to establish in such settings. But when Raymond, owner of House of Blended Inks, personally invited me, I accepted. It was a chance to network, and of course, another excuse to shoot.

When I arrived, I was pleasantly surprised. There were four or five well-planned stations, and the model-to-photographer ratio was actually favorable. There were MUAs, stylists with wardrobes, a DJ spinning music, and even hostesses serving wine and hors d’oeuvres. Raymond really put thought into the event. I told him as much, then asked if I could bring in my own light. “Absolutely, do your thing, man,” he said.

 So I grabbed my camera and a light from the car and set up at the first station: a clean white wall with a pair of v-flats angled at either side. I’d never worked with that exact setup before, so I was curious to see what I could create.While metering my light, I noticed a model across the room just stepping away from the makeup chair. She had curly red hair, a short fur jacket, and the styling and makeup were absolutely on point. I approached and asked if she’d be willing to shoot. She agreed but told me she had never modeled before—a friend had talked her into coming. I reassured her that experience wasn’t necessary and that I’d walk her through it step by step.

We made our way to the setup, and I gave her a few simple directions. I gestured where I wanted her to look and guided her into the first pose. She followed, and I took the shot. The lighting hit just right—pristine—and she looked absolutely glamorous.

I turned the camera around and showed her the image, something I like to do early in a shoot to help build confidence. A great first shot can shake off nerves and instantly change the energy. Her eyes lit up: “Wow, that’s amazing.”

“That’s you,” I replied.

We kept shooting for a few more moments—quick poses, small adjustments. Then I thanked her and got her contact info. At events like this, you keep it moving. No monopolizing anyone’s time. You get your shots, and then you move on. As I was packing up my light to move to the next setup, I heard a voice behind me: “So, what are you shooting with?” I turned and replied, “Canon 5D Mark II.”

He nodded. “That’s okay. I’d shoot with you, but I left my Hasselblad out in the car. I’m just using my walk-around camera today.” I couldn’t quite tell if he was being sarcastic or trying to establish dominance. So I shot back, “Well, I’ve got my old shoebox camera in the trunk. I’ll go get it—if you get your Hasselblad. I’ve never seen one up close.”

He smirked and said, “Nah, I’ll just use this one.” Then he launched into telling me how he was an instructor at the Art Institute and held two degrees in photography. That’s when I realized—yeah, he was definitely trying to flex a little.

So I suggested, “Why don’t you shoot with the same young lady I just worked with? Then we can compare shots.” He agreed. His process was completely different from mine. He placed the light high, almost against the ceiling, had the model stand right against the wall, and then rapid-fired very little directions—telling her to cycle through thirty poses in about thirty seconds. The light flickered from the intensity, and the surge made the extension cord buzz. “Hope I didn’t damage your light,” he said. “That’s why I don’t buy cheap gear,” I replied. “The light’s fine, but you might’ve fried that cord. Anyway, let’s see the shots.”

As he flipped through his images, he started explaining his approach—how he prefers a less posed, more natural style. I nodded and then showed him one of my shots from earlier. He looked down at it, paused, and said, “That’s very nice.” Then he turned and walked away.

I watched him go, smiled to myself, and said, “Too bad you didn’t bring that Hasselblad, huh?”

There’s nothing like a little friendly competition.