The Energy of a Subject in Photography

A subject's energy isn't just about a perfect pose or a well-placed gaze. It emerges from the exchange between the photographer and the person being photographed. Sometimes gentle, sometimes intense, it gives the image a soul. 

The difference between a "nice photo" and an inhabited image often comes down to one very specific moment: when the subject stops trying to control their image. Where vulnerability appears. A gaze that's thinking. A breath that lets go. A moment of truth.

But this energy doesn't depend on the subject alone. It also depends on the state I bring to the session myself. Being too preoccupied with the outcome risks creating an invisible barrier. Conversely, being present and available opens up a space. Technique remains essential, of course, but at this stage, it becomes secondary.

I experienced this during a portrait shoot with Catherine Chabot, for a magazine cover. We were alone, no crew (which I love!), in a café on Ontario Street, on a cold, rainy autumn morning. This kind of intimacy is often an advantage when trying to create an authentic dynamic.

Few customers, a helpful barista, big windows... but also unpredictable light and a busy backdrop. At first glance, not the ideal setting for a cover shoot.

Catherine arrived a little nervous, worried about being late. I suggested we grab a coffee. We talked, chatted, with the camera set aside. Then, quietly, we moved near a window, my Nikon Z8 over my shoulder. I guided her, showed her the shots. Everything was going well, so we kept going.

Since space was tight, having Catherine move around wasn't really an option. I let the conversation take over. Her pose became more natural, and her gaze started reflecting the ideas and emotions we were discussing. That's often the moment when the energy appears.

As I got to know her better, her personality inspired a softer, dreamier, almost sensual image. We were in the present moment. I suggested a game: directing without speaking, using only gestures. Intrigued, she agreed. I stepped out into the rain with my Nikon 50mm f/1.4 to photograph her through the window. The mirroring did the rest. The gestures answered each other. The energy was there.

We finished our coffee together, looking through the images and picking the ones that spoke to us. The editing happened naturally, through dialogue.

Letting go of the preconceived image

Having an initial idea is useful. Being rigid isn't. A photo shoot is above all teamwork. Energy flows better when the subject feels involved in the creative process.

Letting someone offer ideas, talk about their insecurities or desires, gives them back creative power. They become an active participant in the image, not just a photographed object.

This is what happened with Mary, my neighbor, during a portrait I wanted to create for Earth Day in 2025. My initial idea was very specific: an older woman with blue eyes, surrounded by flowers, lit in chiaroscuro, evoking the Earth partially lit by the moon, conveying a sense of frustration at our collective indifference toward our planet.

Mary hates being photographed. I had to reassure her, tell her we'd have fun and that nothing was mandatory. Once she was convinced and the light was set, holding both flower branches and a camera wasn't easy. She's the one who suggested tucking the flowers into her hair, making a half-crown out of them. We laughed while I tried to pin them in place.

Styling someone's hair creates intimacy, trust. Mary then actively took part in shaping the scene. I didn't set up a tripod to hold the flowers: I wanted her to feel fully involved in the project.

Once she was settled, I simply asked her to think of a moment when she'd felt angry. She looked up at me and my Nikon Z8 with my 50mm 1.8 lens. The memory was there, in her gaze. I had my wounded Mother Nature.

Taking care of the subject also means reminding them that mistakes are allowed. Self-deprecation is often an excellent tool. Showing your own imperfection opens the door for the other person.

Understanding before photographing

Even before pressing the shutter, asking questions changes everything. Understanding a person’s fears and desires helps establish a human throughline, not just an aesthetic one. Taking a genuine interest in people, in what drives them, is, for me, the first key to capturing a subject’s energy..

I think of this luthier I came across in Montreal. I only had my 85mm f1/8 and my Nikon Z6III over my shoulder when I walked into his workshop. A jumble of guitar cases, strings, and tools: the clutter of a passion that’s lasted over forty years, thick with dust and memory.

We chat. I ask him what his favorite tools are. He takes the time to find them and shows me his father's plane and hammers. A passion passed down through generations. It's beautiful to see.

I let him move around, tell his story, and explain. All I have to do is listen, be genuinely interested, and capture it.