Take us back to the very beginning — what first pulled you toward photography, and how did portraits become the thing you kept returning to?
My journey into photography was quite organic. I came from a background in IT, but somewhere along the way I realised that I was far more drawn to observing, documenting and telling stories visually. Photography became a way of slowing down and paying attention to the world around me. What began as a curiosity gradually became a profession, and over the years it has taken me through commercial, documentary, heritage and editorial work—always bringing me back to people and their stories.
What I love most about photography, though, is emotion. I’ve always felt that emotions are transient—they exist in a particular moment and then disappear. Photography gives us the ability to freeze that feeling and return to it years later.
I find myself observing people wherever I go. There is often something in their eyes—a fleeting expression, a certain intensity—that makes me curious about the story behind it. That curiosity is what keeps drawing me towards portraits.
In the studio, I have developed a very distinct process of bringing those emotions to the surface. It takes patience, trust and a certain amount of letting go of the camera. Getting beyond a posed expression and reaching that honest moment in someone’s eyes can be difficult, but when it happens, it is incredibly rewarding.
I don’t think I photograph people simply to show how they look. I want to make them feel something—and then freeze that feeling for them. Because sometimes, a photograph becomes more than an image; it becomes a way of remembering who we were, and what we felt, in that particular moment.
Can you recall the first shoot that made you think, 'this is what I'm meant to do'? What happened that day?
I think my journey into photography began quite naturally with documenting life. I was always the one photographing everyday moments, processes and events. What fascinated me was how, later, when we looked through those photographs together, they would bring everything back—the people, the little details, the atmosphere, and most importantly, the feeling of that moment.
But I remember one particular moment when photography suddenly felt much bigger to me. One of my fashion photographs, created as a collaboration with a brand, was published on large outdoor hoardings. We actually went out just to see it—to see a photograph I had clicked occupying such a huge space.
I remember standing there and looking at that image and thinking, “I made this.” Seeing something that had started with me behind a camera become a part of the city was incredibly surreal. That was perhaps the first time I truly felt, this is what I’m meant to do.
It made me realise that photography could do more than preserve my own memories. It could create something that people see, feel and remember. And that feeling stayed with me.
Somewhere along the way you became a mentor as much as a photographer. Who or what nudged you toward teaching others?
I’ve had the opportunity to learn from different mentors who approached photography as a science—through technique, equipment and process. Those things are important, but I believe anyone can teach technique; what I want to teach is how to see photography as an art.
For me, photography is a language. It gives you a way to express your feelings, experiences and perspectives when words may not be enough. It is also an incredibly vast medium, with endless possibilities to explore, experiment and create something new every day.
I want my students to look beyond simply taking a “good photograph” and start asking themselves what they want to say, what they want someone to feel, and how they can use an image as a form of creative expression.
I hope to teach, inspire and, most importantly, create experiences that make my students curious enough to keep exploring photography long after they leave my classroom.
Which portrait from your portfolio feels the most like *you* — your signature frame?
What makes this portrait so unmistakably yours — is it the light, the mood, the connection with the person?
I think what makes a portrait unmistakably mine is the connection I try to create before I even make the photograph. Light and composition are important—they shape the image—but for me, they are tools to reveal something rather than the end goal.
I spend a lot of time observing the person, understanding their energy and finding what makes them feel comfortable enough to let their guard down. I’m particularly drawn to the eyes, because that’s often where the most honest emotion lives.
My process is very intentional about creating that moment—sometimes through conversation, sometimes through direction, and sometimes simply by giving a person the space to be themselves. When the light, the mood and the emotion come together, the photograph starts feeling less like a posed portrait and more like a glimpse into the person.
That emotional connection is probably the strongest signature of my work.
Which frame from your senior-citizen portrait series stands out to you as a favourite?
You said you walked in to make portraits and walked out with lessons on life — what's one story from that day that stayed with you?
One of the most profound things I took away from photographing senior citizens was a different understanding of how life moves on—and how people move with it.
Their stories reminded me that problems are a part of every stage of life. What changes is how we choose to live alongside them. I saw people who had experienced loss, challenges, change and uncertainty, yet had still found reasons to laugh, connect and choose joy.
It made me realise that perhaps happiness isn’t about having a life without problems. It is about learning how to live fully despite them. Watching them embrace life with such warmth and acceptance was a beautiful reminder for me to do the same.
What does a shot from a fashion shoot your students created from scratch look like?
What's the moment you love most — watching a student go from 'what's shutter speed?' to executing a full fashion story?
What I love most is watching the transformation. Seeing a student begin with “What’s shutter speed?” and, somewhere along the way, become confident enough to conceptualise, plan and execute an entire fashion story is incredibly fulfilling.
For me, teaching photography isn’t about making someone technically perfect. It’s about giving them enough understanding and confidence to find their own visual language.
The moment a student stops asking me what to do and starts making creative decisions on their own—that’s when I know something has shifted. Watching that journey from learning the basics to creating something that has their own perspective, thought and voice in it is probably my favourite part of being an educator.
What does a behind-the-scenes moment from one of your workshops or classes look like?
When you're teaching, what's the one idea about light or composition you find yourself repeating the most?
I find myself repeating one thing more than anything else: learn to see the light before you learn to control it.
Light is everywhere, and it is constantly changing. The same subject can tell a completely different story depending on where the light falls, how hard or soft it is, what it reveals and what it leaves unseen.
The same goes for composition. I encourage my students to first ask themselves what they want the viewer to see and feel, and then use composition and light to guide the eye towards that.
Photography has rules, of course, but I don’t want my students to become afraid of breaking them. Understand the rules, understand why they work—and then experiment. That’s where photography starts becoming an art rather than just a technically correct picture.
What does the camera and lens you reach for most often look like?
You've mentioned your '85mm Nikon days' — what is it about that lens and setup that you keep coming back to?
I’ve always had a soft corner for prime lenses, especially for portraits. The 85mm has been an important part of my journey, particularly during my Nikon days, but I wouldn’t say there is just one lens I keep coming back to. I love experimenting with different primes—the 35mm, 85mm, 105mm—depending on the story and the kind of connection I want to create.
What I love about a prime lens is that it makes me more intentional. You can’t simply zoom in or out; you have to move, observe, find your frame and connect with your subject. Each focal length also gives me a different way of seeing a person—the 35mm can bring their environment into the story, while the 85mm and 105mm allow me to get more intimate with expressions and emotions.
So perhaps it’s not one particular lens that I keep returning to, but the simplicity and discipline of shooting with a prime. It makes me slow down, look harder and photograph with intention.
What's a shoot, series, or workshop idea you're most excited to bring to life next?
I’m excited about exploring both a new personal portrait series and new ways of teaching photography. I have been thinking about a series around women and the different identities we carry through life—who we are, who we are expected to be, and who we become when we allow ourselves to simply be. I want to explore emotions, memories, strength, vulnerability, ageing, freedom and self-discovery through portraits, using light, movement, styling and symbolism to create visual stories rather than just beautiful images.
At the same time, I want to bring this approach into my workshops—to teach photography not merely as a technical skill, but as a language for creative expression. I want my students to experiment, question, observe and find their own visual voice.
Ultimately, whether I’m creating a photograph myself or helping someone else create one, I want to explore the same thing: how we see, how we feel, and how we can turn that into a visual story. There is always another emotion to discover, another perspective to explore and another story waiting to be photographed.
Contact and Follow
Email: Thevandanap@gmail.com
Instagram: @thevandana
