Part II – Sensuality Is Not a Matter of How Many Buttons Are Undone
The first part explored the boudoir as a room, as a photographic card format and, finally, as a personal, sensual portrayal. Now we turn to the practical side. How do these images come about? What am I looking for? And why might a lumberjack shirt contribute more than an elaborate lingerie ensemble?
My path began with food photography. When I told an acquaintance that I did food photography, he waved it away and said feet were not his fetish. I had been talking about food. He had already moved on to an entirely different preference. Occasionally, it is worth establishing how a photographic genre is spelled before passing judgement on it.
Later, boudoir photography became an important part of my development as a photographer. It taught me a great deal about lighting, posing and directing a model. Above all, though, I had to discover what kind of sensuality interested me. You can photograph a great deal of skin and still end up with a remarkably impersonal image. The camera then dutifully records that someone is wearing very little. That is an observation. Not yet an idea for a photograph.
Elegance Before Overt Seduction
If I had to put my idea of boudoir into numbers, it would be roughly sixty to seventy per cent elegance, with eroticism making up the rest. This is not a recipe I weigh out during a session. It describes my priorities: for me, sensuality comes through posture, expression and the composition of the image.
Elegance does not arise solely from expensive clothing or luxurious surroundings. I am interested in lines, curves, triangles and the transitions between skin, fabric and light. A slight turn of the upper body can change a pose. The position of a hand can introduce stillness or tension. A glance can create intimacy without overtly offering anything to the viewer.
So the lumberjack shirt has by no means wandered into these reflections by accident. A familiar item of clothing can bring a personal quality that carefully chosen lingerie does not automatically provide. Fabric, posture and expression all play a part. A shirt is not inherently sensual, any more than lace underwear guarantees a good photograph. The garment offers possibilities. We have to make something of them.
How many buttons are undone remains a creative decision. There is no point along the button placket at which ordinary photography officially becomes boudoir.
A Woman Does Not Have to Arrive With a Pose Ready
For a commissioned session, I photograph a woman who wants pictures of herself. She does not need to arrive with modelling experience. It is my job to guide her and work with her to find poses that suit the portrayal we want.
“Be sexy” is a rather inadequate instruction. You might just as well tell someone at a piano lesson: “Play beautifully.” At best, it expresses a hope and leaves all the work to the other person.
Guidance becomes useful when it is specific. Where should the hand go? How far should the upper body turn? Should she look towards the camera or past it? What changes when the shoulders relax or the weight shifts? A pose develops from these small decisions. The woman can explore how she feels in it, while I see how it works in the image.
A reference image she brings along can be a good starting point. It shows me what appeals to her. But it is not a set of instructions we have to follow as closely as possible. A pose takes shape with a particular body, camera position, clothing and light. If we borrow it, we have to adapt it to our own situation. Otherwise, we may copy the placement of the limbs while losing everything that made the original image interesting.
Nor does every woman have to look seductively into the camera. A quiet gaze, or one directed elsewhere, can be much stronger. What matters is whether the expression suits the person and the image. A forced seductive expression remains forced, even with impeccable underwear.
The Light Does Not Take a Break
What looks easy and natural in a photograph may require considerable preparation. The lighting has to be arranged and the camera position chosen. We develop the pose together, too. Naturally, this does not involve physically moving the model into position. I explain and demonstrate the pose; the woman takes it herself and adjusts it following my guidance. Much depends on the transitions between skin and fabric.
When an explanation alone is not enough, I sometimes photograph an unflattering position and show her the result. The image allows me to explain what I do not like about the pose and how a change might work better. A second photograph makes the difference visible. We are discussing the effect of a pose in a photograph. Her body is not being judged.
Light can emphasise contours, make surfaces appear calm or direct the eye towards a particular area. Shadows can extend a form while leaving something unresolved. What interests me is how the woman appears in the image and what mood the composition creates.
The camera position matters, too. Whatever is closer to the camera can appear proportionally larger; the angle changes how the forms of the body overlap. That is why looking at a pose in isolation is not enough. I have to assess it from the actual camera position. What looks convincing in the room may have a completely different effect in a two-dimensional photograph.
The model should not have to solve these technical questions for me. She can concentrate on our collaboration. I am responsible for bringing pose, light and perspective together. Explaining a failed image by saying that the woman simply did not know how to stand would be an exceedingly convenient division of labour.
Ideally, You Will Not See the Preparation
Before the session, we discuss what pictures we want to create and which clothes will help us do so. This includes small practical details that can become surprisingly prominent in the finished photograph: a distracting label, a badly positioned strap, fabric bunching in the wrong place. The sooner we notice them, the less we have to correct later.
Tight clothing can also leave pressure marks on the skin. If both nude and lingerie photographs are planned, it may therefore make sense to take the nude pictures before those involving tight lingerie. That is one possible sequence, not an obligation. Whether nudity is involved at all, and when, depends on what we have agreed and what the woman feels comfortable with.
There is little point, in any case, in spending minutes refining delicate lighting only to discover that the bra has pressed a second composition into the skin.
Preparation also means allowing time to settle in and take breaks. I always say: “We are not doing a shoot. We are celebrating your beauty.” A woman takes this time for herself, for who she is and for her body. She is free to enjoy it and take pleasure in being seen. My job is to shape that celebration so that she experiences our work together in that spirit. This must come through in how I treat her, in the way the session unfolds and, ultimately, in the images. The photographs should do justice to what she experienced during that time.
I wrote in more detail about the preliminary conversation, trust and the care required in a vulnerable situation in “Seeing Yourself Through Different Eyes”. What matters for the photographic work is this: I have to understand her wishes so that the images feel right for her. A comfortable experience and carefully crafted images belong together.
What a Companion Can Contribute
A companion is welcome. They can, for example, fix her hair or help with small adjustments to her clothing. This makes the work easier and can give the woman an additional sense of security.
The woman being photographed remains the person I work with directly. We are developing her pictures. A companion should support her, rather than decide on her behalf how she should look or present herself. That applies even when the photographs are intended as a gift.
During the session, my feedback concerns the image: a successful pose, a fitting expression or a glance. Compliments about her body are not part of my working practice. In that moment, I am a photographer.
Boudoir and Artis Umbrae
Boudoir was also a school for me, and I carried much of what I learned into my subsequent work. Light, posture and expression concern me just as much at Artis Umbrae. The intention there, however, can be different.
In a commissioned boudoir session, the woman’s personal, sensual portrayal is central. At Artis Umbrae, I develop an idea for an image through the body, shadows, lettering and references to art history. Echoes of Art Deco and expressive dance form part of my visual language. The body can embody a shape, create tension or become part of a statement.
The presence of nudity says nothing in itself about how erotic the result is. These categories cannot be neatly sorted by wardrobe. But there is a difference between developing a personal portrayal for a client and working with a model on an artistic concept.
What I learned in boudoir photography remains important in both cases: a body in front of the camera does not become a photographic image simply by being there. Posture, light and expression have to work together.
The Personal Image
For me, boudoir succeeds when the woman and I create a portrayal that she is happy to recognise as her own. It can be elegant, sensual, playful or quiet. There is no compulsory facial expression and no prescribed amount of visible skin.
The apparent effortlessness of these images often comes from very precise work. The woman can discover what she likes, experiment and enjoy this time for herself. My job is to give her wishes photographic form.
A lumberjack shirt can be part of that, too.
The buttons can wait. First, we need a picture.