You may have the best work of your career.
The lighting is beautiful. The production values are high. The retouching is excellent. Every image does exactly what it is supposed to do.
And yet, you are still not getting as many calls as you would like.
That is a conversation I have quite often with photographers.
After more than 35 years working in advertising, and many of those years as an Art Buyer and Producer, I can tell you that being technically good has never been the whole story. But I think it is becoming even less of a differentiator now.
There are simply a lot of very good photographers out there.
And when I say good, I mean genuinely good. Beautifully lit work. Strong production. Excellent post-production. Portfolios full of images that would once have stood out.
Today, that level of competence is expected.
The question is: what else am I seeing?
The problem with trying to make everything perfect
When I was looking through portfolios, I wasn’t usually wondering whether a professional photographer could take a good photograph.
I assumed they could.
What I wanted to understand was who they were.
What did they notice?
What interested them?
What was their particular way of looking at people, places or products?
Could I get a sense of them from the work?
And, importantly, could I remember them?
That is where I think many portfolios struggle.
There may be plenty of good photographs in them, but when I close the website, I am not quite sure what I have just seen.
Nothing has really stayed with me.
That doesn’t mean the photographer isn’t talented. Quite the opposite. Sometimes the problem is that they are trying so hard to demonstrate everything they can do that the work loses its own personality.
I am not looking for perfection. I am looking for a reason to choose you.
When I worked as an Art Buyer, there were often several photographers who were perfectly capable of shooting a job.
Technically, they could all probably deliver.
So the decision became about something else.
Who feels right for this particular brief?
Whose work has something about it that we want?
Who brings an interesting eye?
Who understands the idea?
Who can work with the Creative Director and the wider team?
Who do we trust to find something when the shoot doesn’t go exactly as planned?
That is the bit photographers sometimes forget when they are editing their portfolios.
Your portfolio is not there simply to prove that you are competent.
It is there to help someone understand why they should choose you.
Your point of view should be visible without you having to explain it
I often talk to photographers about finding their point of view.
I don’t mean inventing a grand statement about your work for the About page.
I mean: can I see it?
Can I see the things you are drawn to?
The moments you wait for?
The way you photograph people?
The atmosphere you create?
The details you notice that somebody else might walk past?
Sometimes it is difficult for a photographer to see this in their own work. You are too close to it. That is one of the reasons I enjoy portfolio reviews so much. I can often see the threads running through someone’s work before they can.
But those threads are important.
They are often where your most valuable work is hiding.
Sometimes your most expensive image isn’t your most interesting one
This can be a difficult one.
You have spent three days producing an image. There was a big crew, a large budget, complicated lighting and hours of post-production.
Of course you are proud of it.
But does it belong in your portfolio?
Not because of what it cost to make. Not because of how difficult it was. Not because it won an award.
Does it actually tell me something about you?
I’ve looked at portfolios where the photographs I remember are not necessarily the biggest or most polished ones. Sometimes it is a quieter image. A moment that feels observed rather than constructed. Something with a little tension in it. An expression you can’t quite read.
Those are often the images where I start to feel the photographer behind the camera.
And that matters.
What AI can’t bring to the shoot
I am talking to a lot of photographers about AI at the moment and, understandably, there is concern about what happens next.
I don’t think anyone can honestly tell you exactly where the industry will be in a few years.
But I do think it is worth asking yourself this:
What do I bring that isn’t just about producing the final image?
Because on a commercial shoot, you bring a great deal more than the camera.
You bring your judgement.
Your experience.
Your ability to read a situation.
Your relationship with the people in front of your camera.
Your ability to make somebody feel comfortable.
Your instinct to recognise when something unexpected is happening.
And your experience to know whether it is worth pursuing.
I’ve been on enough shoots to know that the best moment doesn’t always happen when everyone expects it to. Sometimes it happens between setups. Sometimes the original plan isn’t quite working and somebody spots another way through.
That is where experience, collaboration and a good eye really matter.
A client is not always just buying the finished photographs. They are hiring somebody to help get there.
Your taste matters more than you think
This is something I would like photographers to think more about.
We spend a lot of time talking about improving our craft. Better lighting. Better equipment. Better production. Better post-production.
All useful, of course.
But what about your taste?
What do you choose to photograph?
What do you leave out?
What makes you stop and look?
What do you think is beautiful, funny, uncomfortable or interesting?
Your taste is visible in your work, but it is particularly visible in your edit.
A portfolio is a series of decisions.
What you include tells me something.
What you leave out tells me something too.
And a strong portfolio should feel edited by somebody who knows what they are trying to say.
If I removed your name, would I know it was your work?
This is one of the questions I would ask you to consider when looking at your portfolio for 2027.
Not every photographer needs a style that is instantly recognisable from one frame. That isn’t what I mean.
But if I looked at your work as a whole, would I get a sense of a person behind it?
Or could the same portfolio have been put together by twenty different photographers?
Have a proper look at your work and ask yourself:
- If I took my name off this portfolio, what would it tell someone about the photographer?
- Which images do people tend to remember?
- Which images feel most like me?
- Which images are there simply because they are technically impressive?
- What am I trying to show too much of?
- What work am I actually hoping to be hired to shoot next?
- Is there anything here that is diluting that message?
- If an Art Buyer spent ten seconds looking at my homepage, would they have a reason to want to see more?
That last question matters.
You don’t have long to create interest.
You don’t need to tell me everything about yourself in those first few seconds.
You just need to make me want to keep looking.
Don’t try to become everything to everyone
When work is quiet, it is tempting to add more.
More styles. More subjects. More examples of everything you are capable of.
You want to reassure potential clients that you can handle whatever they might throw at you.
But there is a risk.
The more you add, the less clear you can become.
I have seen photographers with 150 excellent images on their website and still have no idea what I would hire them for.
Then I have seen someone with 25 images where, within seconds, I understand their world.
That doesn’t mean you need to put yourself in a tiny box.
It means you need to make it easier for the right people to understand what you do well and what makes your work worth looking at.
Clarity helps people remember you.
And if they remember you, they are far more likely to think of you when the right brief arrives.
My advice? Don’t try to compete on perfection alone.
Technology will continue to change. AI will continue to improve. Photography has been through enormous changes before, and there will undoubtedly be more to come.
But I don’t think the answer is to try and beat technology at its own game.
I would concentrate on becoming more recognisable as yourself.
Keep improving your craft, obviously. Keep learning. Understand the technology and use the parts that are useful to you.
But don’t lose the things that make you different in the process.
Your eye.
Your judgement.
Your taste.
The way you work with people.
The experience you bring to a production.
The things you notice.
The choices you make.
That is where I think your value increasingly lies.
So, when you are editing your portfolio, don’t just ask whether every image is perfect.
Ask whether the portfolio feels like it belongs to you.
And ask whether, when someone closes your website, they have a reason to remember your name.
Is your portfolio helping you get the work you want?
This is exactly the kind of conversation I have with photographers in my portfolio reviews and coaching sessions.
I look at the work from the other side of the desk and help you see what is working, what is getting in the way and, most importantly, what your portfolio is actually communicating to the people you want to hire you.
Sometimes you need new work.
But sometimes you don’t.
Sometimes the answer is already sitting in your archive. It just needs a better edit, a clearer story and someone experienced enough to help you see what is there.
Because you may not need to become a better photographer.
You may simply need to become easier to remember.
Thoughts?
Message me if you want to chat with a coffee,
Warmly,