How Many Portraits Do You Really Need?

On slowing down, seeing clearly, and making fewer, better images

Gail Shalan at Union Square, New York City.

Somewhere along the way—between the first front-facing iPhone camera and the tenth swipe of an Instagram reel—we forgot what a portrait is.

We started running. Producing. Chasing content like water in our hands. There’s digital noise now, a constant hum, making us feel like we need hundreds of images to prove that we were there, that we were seen.

But the truth is, we don’t need hundreds.

In the editorial world I came from, it was normal to spend an entire day with a creative team—stylist, makeup artist, hair, photographer, assistant—just to produce six to twelve carefully crafted images. That was enough to fill a magazine spread. That was enough to say everything.

When I worked as a film director, the average on a well-paced, narrative shoot was two to three minutes of finished screen time per 12-hour day. Commercial work asked for more—always more—but you could feel the difference. The race left no room for soul.

Now I work with private clients. And while I understand the current pace of things—the pressure to produce, to select, to choose—I quietly offer something else.

I don’t take mini sessions, unless it’s a quick studio shoot for holiday cards. I usually spend around two hours on a portrait session. I ask clients to bring two or three outfits. We walk, we talk, we slow down. I promise 50+ images - and I almost always deliver more.

But in truth?

From each outfit, each location, I see two or three portraits that truly matter. That hold something timeless. That feel like cinema.

That’s more than enough.

I know the market expects options. I know people want to choose. But the more I shoot, the more I realize: if I were the client, I wouldn’t want more. I’d want to trust the photographer to see me—not as a service provider, but as an artist.

When I worked as a photo editor, I saw this play out in real time. One photographer—brilliant, generous—always over-delivered. And every time, he’d call and ask, “Why did you pick the one I liked the least?” I’d tell him, “Then stop giving us the choice. Be braver.”

Because in that magazine office, the editing team would gather around the art director’s desk, weighing every frame. And the more there was to choose from, the more the image—the right image—got lost.

Another photographer, who had spent years as an art director in advertising, did it differently. He selected just one image per look, right on set, with the stylist beside him. He delivered only what he believed in. And you know what? No one ever asked for more.

So yes, I over-deliver. I understand how it works. But in my heart, I believe that five to ten truly great portraits are enough to tell a story.

Enough to last.

Enough to stop the scroll.

Enough to feel seen.

And maybe it’s time I tell myself—just as I once told that photographer—be braver. Deliver less.