An In-Home Family Session Near Alamo Square

You can learn a lot about a family before anyone says hello.

In this home, it was the walls. A row of framed family photos above the living room sofa. Two black-and-white prints from their wedding hanging over the bed. Before I’d unpacked a single lens, I knew this was a family that keeps its story close, somewhere they pass it every day.

So the job was simple, and a little intimidating. Make photographs worthy of hanging next to the ones already there.

They live a few blocks from Alamo Square. Mom, Dad, a four-year-old girl with no volume knob on her affection, and her nine-month-old brother, who takes it all in stride.

Where Everyone Lands

Every home has a center of gravity. Here, it’s the sofa.

I always start with one frame for the grandparents, everyone looking at the camera, everyone accounted for. Then I wait. It didn’t take long for this family to forget I was there. Dad leaned toward his daughter, Mom glanced down at her son, and both kids broke into smiles at something that had nothing to do with me. That’s the frame I’d hang.

The Hug

Four-year-olds have one setting, and hers is all in.

When I handed the bed over to the kids, she wrapped both arms around her brother and didn’t let go. In the next moment she rested her cheek on top of his head, while he stared straight into my lens with the calm of someone who has been hugged exactly like this many, many times.

Above them hung the wedding prints. Where this family started, and below them, two of the best things that came of it.

The Room They Made for Him

You can tell when a room was made with love before anyone lived in it.

His nursery has pale palm-leaf wallpaper, a white crib, and a big window looking out at the Victorians across the street. His whole world, with San Francisco in the window. We sat on the rug there for a family portrait, then let things get quieter. Big sister leaned over and kissed the top of his head while Mom held him and Dad watched. When Mom lifted him nose to nose, he laughed so hard she started laughing too.

Babies don’t fake laughs. Neither, it turns out, do moms.

The Mirror

Most of my job is helping people forget they’re being looked at. The mirror flipped that.

A tall mirror leans against the wall in his room, and I photographed the family over their own shoulders, so you see them from behind and in the reflection at once. The crib, the window, the four of them on the rug, all held in a single frame. Dad mid-sentence. Then Dad leaning in to make his son smile, while his daughter tucked herself into Mom’s arms.

Nobody was looking at me. They were looking at themselves, together, in a room they built for the newest person in it.

I think that’s what a family session is really for. Not to show you how you look. To show you what you have.

Barefoot in the Backyard

A backyard in San Francisco is a small luxury, and we saved it for last.

Tall wood fence, soft green turf, an outdoor sofa. We started in the shade with the baby on the grass, looking just past me with his mouth open in pure delight. Whatever he saw, it was better than me. His sister sat down behind him and wrapped him up again, the same hug from the bedroom, now barefoot on the lawn. Some things don’t change from room to room.

Then everyone stepped into the sun and walked the length of the yard together, her between Mom and Dad holding both their hands, him on Mom’s hip. We finished on the outdoor sofa, all four of them in full sun. Right back where the day began, just on a different couch.

Why In-Home Sessions

Parks and beaches are beautiful, and I love shooting at Crissy Field. But a location can’t give you the sofa where everyone ends up, the nursery you made before he came home, or the yard where your kids run barefoot. They’ll outgrow all of it. The photos stay.

And if I’ve done my job, a few of these will end up on those walls.

Your Home, Your Story

If you’d like your family photographed as you actually are, in the rooms that hold your everyday, inquire about a session here.