From the first image taken by Robert Cornelius (1839) and Nadar through Sander and Lange, Avedon and Leibovitz, Penn and Ritts to the present day, the photographic portrait has always been of central importance in bearing witness to the individual and recounting his or her peculiarities, dreams and sufferings.
From cartes de visite to anthropological research, from sign photography to social photography, from self-portraiture to fashion, photographic portraiture has ranged over far wider realms than one can imagine and even today remains one of the most practiced genres. Over time it has lost its guise as a family photo of remembrance to remain mostly strongly anchored in commercial circles.
I had the good fortune to meet Enzo Dal Verme, an internationally renowned Italian portrait photographer, now almost 10 years ago at one of his first workshops and immediately appreciated his philosophy, approach and, above all, his style.
Enzo Dal Verme is known for having portrayed celebrities such as Donatella Versace, Laetitia Casta, Marina Abramovic, Bianca Jagger and Wim Wenders.
His images have been published by Vanity Fair, L'Uomo Vogue, The Times, Marie Claire, GQ and many other magazines.
In addition to portraiture, he is also involved in reportage, often related to social initiatives, such as the series of Urban Heroes portraits taken in Asia, Europe, America, Africa and the Middle East that document the achievements of ordinary people who, staying true to their inspiration, accomplish small and large feats that benefit the entire community.
Since 2010, he has taught his successful portrait workshops in which students train their sensibilities and explore the relationship between photographer and subject. The introspective, intimate and reflective approach of his classes has attracted a diverse audience ranging from professional portraitists to amateur photographers.
His work as a commercial photographer is complemented by a schedule of exhibitions featuring his more personal work. Enzo has exhibited in numerous galleries in Italy and abroad and in a number of festivals, including Arles.
What is your personal history of photography and when did you realize that portraiture is your favorite form of expression?
I started publishing my photos toward the end of the last millennium (which seems like a long time ago!), and in 2001 I decided to close my communications agency to devote myself solely to photography. At first, I was a bit of a mess – lots of enthusiasm with no clear direction. Then, little by little, it became clear that portraiture was the genre that stimulated me the most. My work immediately developed mainly in the publishing industry (magazines, etc.).
In previous years I had been fortunate to work as an art director and in other capacities in both fashion and advertising with many different photographers. The value of that experience would later prove to be very important. I hadn't memorized lighting schemes and technical settings, but I had absorbed years of discussions among image professionals about how to improve the impact of certain photographs. Without my really realizing it, all those encounters had helped me hone my photographic eye.
What great portrait photographers of the past do you draw inspiration from, if any, and what lessons have you learned from them?
I must confess that I never studied photography and got to know the great photographers little by little. Many images have moved me for different reasons and at different times in my life. Some of Irving Penn's shots have incredible strength because of the balance of their composition. I love the intensity of the characters photographed by Berenice Abbott. I consider Herb Ritts's portraits to be resounding in their elegance and essentiality. I have a passion for Peter Lindberg and admire Avedon's clean synthesis. I could go on with a long list of names: Bruce Weber, Mapplethorpe, Cartier Bresson... at the risk of uttering platitudes.
In reality I am not inspired by any of them to shoot; inspiration is something that happens inside me. I generally don't have a clear idea of what the end result will look like, but I recognize when I'm getting close.
Recently, it was pointed out to me that my images have a simple setting, a face and a gesture, as in paintings in the Italian portrait tradition.
In fact, there are some artists who fascinated me during my art history studies. For example, Giovan Battista Moroni, a sixteenth-century painter who was famous especially for his ability to combine fidelity to his subjects (even with their physical imperfections) with introspective investigation. In his portraits, I have always been struck by the intensity and stillness that characterize the gazes.
I have a hard time admitting that those canvases have influenced the way I photograph, but they are part of my training and belong to my language.
Portraiture is one of the most complicated photographic genres because it puts two people face to face: what is your philosophy, what is your approach, and how important is empathy?
I look at the subjects of my photos as if we are two waves in the same ocean. Two unique and unrepeatable waves, each arising, developing and then dissolving like no other. Each has unique and unparalleled characteristics. And at the same time, both are water, ocean, the same thing. When shooting, I sometimes recognize something of me in the person I am photographing; other times, I am amazed at how different we are.
There are occasions when our meeting is difficult, but most of the time it goes smoothly. The direction things take depends on a multitude of factors, including how I respond to the situation. Sometimes I am particularly enthusiastic and curious; other times, something bothers me. In each case, while shooting, I don't only observe the subject but also myself because each encounter presents different stimuli and difficulties.
If I pay attention, in addition to capturing an aspect of that person with my camera, I have the opportunity to discover something about myself. This is one of the great privileges of being a photographer. And it is also one of the reasons why I photograph.
To what extent do you try to evoke characteristics peculiar to the subject in your portrait photographs and how much do you look for yourself?
I used to be convinced that I was aiming my lens at a nuance of the subject's depth and capturing it in my photo. An exact definition, but incomplete. I am also in the photo. I am the one who emphasizes an aspect that strikes me about that person. I am the one who decides to give her authority by photographing her from the bottom up, to show a sunnier version by choosing that particular light, or to show a naughty side by teasing a sly expression.
And it is also my responsibility to make sure that my presence in the photo is only my point of view, the view from a certain angle of something that is really there. Otherwise, it is no longer a portrait of that person but a person acting out a fantasy of mine.
Diane Arbus argued, "I really believe there are things nobody would see if I didn't photograph them." How far can portrait photography go in this regard?
A photograph shows not only the subject but also the photographer's point of view. It shows us "things that no longer exist" from a certain point of view and "things that no one can see" because everyone's selective attention rests on different aspects of the same context.
From the moment a photographic image is taken, it begins to age. If we think of photography as something that documents an event, that immortalized moment no longer exists in the next moment. The subject's expression is no longer the same, neither is the situation. But if we consider photography as a tool that allows us to connect, for example, with the essence of a state of mind, then linear time fades into the background, and that image will potentially have the power to evoke in the viewer something beyond the passage of time.
Depending on what the photographer has managed to capture and what the viewer can perceive, the same photograph can document a moment of past existence, connect with a particular emotion, symbolize a historical moment and much more...
Reconnecting to the previous question, is there room in portraiture to evoke without showing and interpret without representing?
In my opinion, yes, and it's not easy because each person who observes that image will do so through the filters of his or her personal history. The photographer may use their own language, but they can never be certain how it will then be perceived. The risk of being misunderstood seems to increase as we move away from immediate or didactic images, but I don't think this risk should hold us back. There will always be those who see in our images something far removed from what we see.
Light is crucial in photography and perhaps even more so in portraiture, what do you think?
Light is one of the main ingredients, but not the only one. There are portraits with impeccable lighting that are, in fact, a bit empty because they don't show anything intimate about the subject. A portrait is most interesting when it touches the viewer and helps tune them into a certain mood. Striking lighting or harmonious composition can help a lot, and at the same time, an image can capture an aspect of the subject's essence even without the help of special lighting.
Which of your works are you most attached to and how much does personal involvement help?
I like some shots from the beginning of my career when I didn't have so much awareness of what I was up to but still followed my intuition. Then there are some images that mark discoveries or changes in my way of photographing: Le Baiser (portraying love in an elderly couple), Carlo (the first subject of my successful series Portraits In Silence) or the recent shots of Benedetta Barzini in which I allowed myself to truly photograph as I wish, without thinking too much about the needs of the photo editor or director.
You have written a valuable book "Marketing for Photographers." Can you briefly describe to us what your intent of the book is?
Shall I tell the truth? I had proposed a book on portraiture to Feltrinelli, but they had just published two and asked me for another topic. I had written several articles on marketing for photographers and it was natural to go in that direction. At first, I was hesitant about a marketing book. In fact, I didn't really want to deal with it, but then I got into it, and as I was writing, I realized how much I knew about the subject. I like the idea of making what I've learned over the years available to others.
Actually, I also decided to share the contacts of my hardest-to-find suppliers in the book. The result is a very rich and practical handbook, chock-full of concrete advice. So many people have written to thank me, amazed that I was sharing what others would keep secret. That's good enough for me. It's the perspective of a professional who has tried many strategies firsthand, explored different client niches and... also made many mistakes before finding what works. Someone also asked me if I teach marketing courses, but I don't plan to. But I gladly give book presentations in which I talk about the current state of photography from the perspective of my long and eclectic experience.
Of course, I haven't given up the desire to publish the book on portraiture; in fact, I have almost finished writing it and there is a publisher who is interested. But I haven't yet decided on publication, and I still have to put the finishing touches on it.
So it's not just another portrait manual?
It’s not a manual but an exploration of those aspects of portraiture that are rarely considered. Photography books often talk about technique and everything that can be measured: light, depth of field, proportions... But a photograph is also made up of things that are hard to measure: feelings, evocations, impressions. We are used to thinking that things that cannot be quantified are not logical and, therefore, not really real. Yet life is made up of many such things: who has ever heard of a pound of love or a pound of fear? Can one measure shyness in inches? Yet these are very real things, even if you cannot measure them. The presence of these elements in a portrait means that it is not just a reproduction of a person's form but that something of his or her intimacy is also revealed.
For some time now, you have also gone down the teaching path. In your workshops, you use an approach that steers away from technique to help people understand what the fundamental elements are to create a portrait that is not contrived.
I enjoy teaching very much. I share the things I could have benefited from learning early in my career and the aspects I think are important to consider when shooting portraits. In 20 years as a professional photographer, I have dealt with people and contexts that were not always easy. I had to develop the ability to put my subjects at ease and adapt to the most critical situations. My approach has developed little by little, snag after snag, mistake after mistake. I have learned the importance of knowing how to be present and connect with the person I am to photograph, even if all hell is breaking loose around me. I've learned to come to terms with my worries while shooting and make sure they don't interfere with the result. I treat them the same way I treat unfavorable lighting conditions or a problematic background. i>
Anything can happen while shooting a portrait: communication difficulties, excessive enthusiasm, dislike, tantrums... It's essential to know how to manage the relationship with the subject and also our difficult moments. And not only that. We need to focus on the result we want to achieve while being open to what may happen – controlling the composition, stimulating our subject to show something interesting, being creative, sensitive, empathetic, quick and – why not? – having fun.
And then there is technique. It serves to express oneself, like words. And just as grammar and syntax alone are not enough to write a good book, photographic technique is just a support, the basis by which to express oneself. That's why I don't teach technique; I prefer to focus on what you can do once you already know the technique. Even having very little technique – knowing how to focus and set time – is enough to participate in one of my workshops. But you have to be curious about what comes next. Be willing to do a lot of creative gymnastics and also confront your own little discomforts as a photographer so that you can overcome them and then express yourself more easily.
What is your assessment of the state of photography in Italy today in terms of teaching, awareness and proposals?
When I visit the Paris Photo events or the European Month of Photography exhibitions in Berlin and think of certain cultural events dedicated to photography in Italy, I get goosebumps.
But we also have extraordinary exhibitions, for example, those organized at Castello Di Stupinigi or PAC in Milan. And then I really appreciate the fact that even with limited resources but a lot of passion, some interesting initiatives can emerge.
In general, we have many good professionals but also many incompetents and others who take advantage of their position to favor whoever they want. I have read critics sing the praises of inept photographers and seen highly talented photographers fail to make ends meet. By and large, meritocracy is ignored. This is not a favorable situation.
Photography also needs cultural ferment, enthusiasm and opportunity to develop. This was the case for the photographers at Bar Jamaica in Milan in the 1960s and also for the photographers who were able to experiment so much in the 1980s thanks to the fashion industry. Photographers today do not have it easy. These are critical times, and it takes a lot of resourcefulness and creativity to continue to photograph, experiment and express themselves.
This interview by Mirko Bonfanti was originally published in Italian on Discorsi Fotografici on April 10, 2019.