MMS 173 ASSIGNMENT 5B: SELF-PORTRAITURE
HELLO!
For this project, I was tasked with creating two self-portraits: one headshot and one candid image. Guided by specific technical and visual rules, I explored ways to present myself authentically while experimenting with composition, storytelling, and emotion. The headshot required clarity and honesty, my full face, eyes open, no distractions. In contrast, the candid portrait offered room to reflect on who I am beyond the surface, using props, setting, and atmosphere to evoke a story.
HEADSHOT
Grace Under Glow
Concept
Beyond simply capturing my likeness, I wanted this portrait to convey a deeper sense of presence and introspection. By sitting on a familiar couch frame and leaving generous negative space to my left, I aimed to evoke the duality of comfort and openness, suggesting that while I am grounded in my own world, I remain receptive to what lies beyond. The single, warm lamp light symbolizes curiosity and quiet confidence, illuminating not just my features but the contours of my personality.
Execution
Although I shot in landscape orientation for maximum compositional flexibility, I activated my phone’s Portrait mode to achieve that headshot look. The wider frame allowed me to play with negative space on my left, balancing the lamp’s subtle red accent against the simplicity of the wood‑paneled wall. I chose 4 : 3 because it balances vertical space with enough distance to include the upper chest, creating a natural “head‑and‑shoulders” look without feeling cramped or overly distant. Each frame was triggered with a Bluetooth remote, giving me freedom to explore slight shifts in expression and posture without bumping the camera.
Setup
Camera Position: I placed my Vivo V30 on a tripod directly in front of me at eye level, ensuring the lens sat parallel to my face to avoid distortion.
Background: Perched on the living‑room couch, I leaned slightly toward the light source. Behind me, a plain wooden panel wall provides warmth without distraction.
Key Light: A single decorative lamp to my left served as the only illumination. Relying on one bare lamp created strong shadows and noticeable fall‑off. A simple reflector or secondary fill‑light would have softened the shadow side and reduced contrast.
Accent Element: The lamp’s carved red tassel peeks into the frame, introducing a dash of color and cultural texture that contrasts with the neutral tones of my environment.
Camera Settings
Focal Length (46 mm equivalent): This focal length prevents perspective distortion and maintains a natural sense of proximity.
Aperture (ƒ/5.6): Wide enough to separate me from the background with a pleasing blur, yet narrow enough to keep both eyes sharply in focus.
Shutter Speed (1/25 s): While slightly slow, the tripod and wireless trigger guaranteed stability; the slower speed also invited more of the lamp’s warmth into the shot.
ISO (4,145): The phone’s auto‑ISO climbed to compensate for low light, resulting in noticeable grain. ISO 4,000+ on a smartphone sensor brings visible noise, especially in shadowed areas. In future shoots, I’ll either bring a reflector or use a continuous LED panel to lower ISO and maximize tonal richness.
Exposure Compensation (0 EV): I trusted the camera’s metering to strike a middle ground between highlights and shadows, reserving most contrast adjustments for post.
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Post‑Processing
Hypic Touch‑Up: I enhanced subtle color in my lips and cheeks, restoring warmth that the dim lamp had flattened, while smoothing stray hairs.
Lightroom Mobile:
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Applied moderate luminance noise reduction (+40) to soften digital grain without losing detail.
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Increased exposure (+0.25 EV) slightly to brighten midtones, then dialed down highlights (–20) to preserve sculptural facets of my face.
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Boosted contrast (+15) and clarity (+10) to accentuate the lamp’s directional effect, while lifting shadows (+30) just enough to reveal depth.
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Fine‑tuned vibrance (+3) to keep skin tones true and sharpening to bring out eyelashes and the necklace’s subtle sparkle.
Reflection
This portrait became more than just a technical exercise, it turned into a quiet reckoning with myself. Early in the process, I found myself overwhelmed by ideas I had seen online, especially those involving creative projector techniques and dramatic lighting. I admired their artistry, but I quickly realized that recreating them was out of reach with my current gear. Rather than let that limitation discourage me, I leaned into it. In embracing those constraints, I rediscovered a kind of creative resourcefulness: working with what I already had, my phone, a tripod, and a single lamp, allowed me to create a more honest and personal image.
What began as a challenge to get the "perfect" shot slowly evolved into something more meaningful. The act of sitting in front of the camera, triggering each frame, and sifting through countless variations became a metaphor for how I’ve learned to face myself. I battled self-doubt, questioned my appearance, and tried angles and lighting that didn't always flatter me. But each attempt became a step closer to understanding not just what I look like, but how I want to be seen.
Editing the photo brought a quiet satisfaction. Adjusting the noise, enhancing soft textures, and lifting the tones felt like giving myself permission to exist fully in the frame.
This headshot stands as more than an assignment, it involves patience, adaptability, and the courage to confront one’s own reflection. It reminded me that clarity and confidence don’t always come from the best gear or the most elaborate setups. They come from presence, from intention, and from choosing to show up exactly as you are.
In the future, I’ll keep evolving, I’ll bring a reflector, maybe an LED panel, I’ll aim for an ISO under 800, and consider adding a soft fill light for balance. But no matter how my technical approach changes, this first headshot will always feel like a milestone: raw, real, and resolutely mine.
CANDID SHOT
Chapters of Her Light
Concept
This portrait is a confession of absence. Once, I escaped into novels every evening—lost in characters, worlds spinning beneath my fingers. Now, my reading is confined to textbooks and articles, each page a reminder of what’s been shelved. By placing myself half in shadow, lamp light brushing my features, I invite the viewer into that private tension: the ache of a reader whose passion flickers but never quite burns out. The frame hints at memory’s warmth and the void left by time’s demands.
Execution
I chose a 3:2 aspect ratio to mirror classic film dimensions, timeless, intimate, almost cinematic. Mounting the DSLR on a tripod roughly one meter away, I composed so that the lamp, the book and only half my face shared the frame. I set a ten‑second self‑timer, settled into a natural reading pose, and let the camera capture the unguarded moment.
Because the kit lens metadata glitched, showing “0.00 mm” in EXIF, even though I was shooting at 55 mm, I treated the focal length as a creative variable, using its mild compression to bring the lamp and my plane of focus closer without exaggerating perspective. No on‑camera diffuser was used; instead, I leaned into the lamp’s raw, unsoftened glow. Its bare shade created hard‑edged shadows that carve out my silhouette against the darkened room, lending a sense of solitude and honesty.
Setup
Camera & Lens: My borrowed DSLR sat on a sturdy tripod at eye‑level, fitted with the 18–55 mm kit lens zoomed to its sweet spot of 55 mm. Although the EXIF stubbornly read “0.00 mm,” I knew exactly the field of view I was working with—a normal portrait perspective that doesn’t distort features.
Background: I sat on my sofa against a plain wooden panel wall. This uncluttered backdrop keeps the eye on my profile, the book’s pages and the lamp’s gentle radiance, a pared‑down stage for my story.
Key Light: The only illumination came from the bedside lamp. With no diffuser or softbox available, I embraced its unfiltered warmth. The lamp’s shade became my
impromptu modifier, its fabric scattering the glow just enough to reveal skin texture while plunging the rest of the frame into lush shadow.
Camera Settings
Focal Length (00 mm): Despite the EXIF hiccup, the 55 mm perspective felt natural and personal, akin to how we perceive each other in quiet conversation.
Aperture (ƒ/5.0): A moderate depth of field keeps my eyes and the book sharply in focus while letting the background melt away. This separation mirrors the emotional distance between my present self and the stories I long for.
Shutter Speed (1/40 s): Slow enough to gather the lamp’s warm tones but fast enough to freeze my still posture. Any slower and my slight movements during reading would blur the image.
ISO (800): High enough to expose my form under dim light without unleashing unbearable noise. The gentle grain that remains contributes to the photograph’s tactile, film‑like quality.
Exposure Compensation (0 EV): I trusted the lamp’s native output, embracing deep shadows as part of the narrative rather than lifting them for evenness.
Post‑Processing
Lightroom Mobile
Exposure and Shadows: I lifted shadows slightly (+12) to reveal subtle facial details, then pulled down highlights (–18) so the lamp shade retained its texture.
White Balance: I nudged Temperature toward +400 K for a cozier glow and added +8 Tint to counteract any green cast from the bulb.
Tone Curve: A gentle S‑curve deepened midtone contrast, drawing the eye along the plane from lamp to face.
Noise & Sharpening: I applied moderate sharpening to define the book’s text and my eyelashes, paired with Luminance noise reduction at 20 to smooth out shadowed areas
Reflection
This assignment was far more challenging than I anticipated. I planned an ambitious projector‑light portrait, only to discover my limited gear and room lighting couldn’t support it. After countless trial shots, I shifted to this simpler lamp setup. Still, each take left me doubting my pose, my expression, my very presence in the frame. Shooting myself without the safety of a photographer’s gaze forced relentless self‑critique.
The planning and conceptualization stretched over days. And even in post‑production, I hovered over every slider, questioning if my edits honored the mood or undermined it.
Yet in that struggle, I discovered an unexpected truth: vulnerability can be a creative ally. By leaning into uncertainty, both technical and emotional, I arrived at an image that is beautifully imperfect, profoundly honest, and entirely my own. This portrait stands as proof that creativity doesn’t just survive constraints; it is born from them, forged in the tension of limitation and emerging stronger, more original, and utterly unforgettable.
