These are one-of-a-kind images made with the wet-plate collodion process of pure silver on metal or glass. Each plate is exposed and developed in real time during the session, resulting in a final object—not a print—that shows the marks and character of how it was made. Tintypes are made on black-painted aluminum. Ambrotypes are made on glass. This is a wet-chemistry medium, which means the process is far less stable and predictable than dry mediums such as film. Unexpected features and artefacts appear and change from plate to plate. Wet-plate collodion photography is one of the earliest photographic processes, originating in the 1850's, a little over a decade after the 'birth' of photography in 1839. I found the process in 2019 in a workshop with Mike Chylinksi and Brian Cuyler. I am drawn not by the historical nature of the process but by the quality of the emulsions, together with the immediate results. The straightforward, procedural nature of the process is also quite soothing. It's always a delight to share.

These are two different modes. A single plate session is quick for both myself and sitter(s): we meet, I pour a plate, we quickly arrange the shot, expose it, develop it, watch it appear in the fixer, and we're done! I process all plates after the fact and either ship it to you or you pick it up from me or the place where we made it. A studio session is slower––the iterative process in the studio gives us the freedom of adjustment and discovery, and removes the pressure of time. Maybe we're aiming to create a portrait of you, or you and a loved one, that captures this point in time, and we agree that you'll keep two plates. We make five or six as the session progresses, adjusting as we go, honing in on what we want, and you choose the two that stand out to you. Or perhaps we're aiming for a set of three (common for two people) and we make a couple of takes for each image, refining as we go. The former is a great way to get one tintype quickly, and it allows me to share the process with many people all in one or two days. The latter is a one-on-one studio process, where an image or series of images is built through multiple exposures and refinement.

Studio sessions typically last between 90 minutes and several hours. Overall time depends on how many images we want to make. As described in the previous answer, each image involves preparation, exposure, and developing in the darkroom. This slow, attentive, and collaborative rhythm tends to shape the experience. If you reserve a spot one of my single plate session/pop-up days, we'll have about 20 minutes together to create your tintype. We only have time for one plate so we'll use our time to orient you to the process and tailor the frame & lighting to suit you.

It's helpful to think in terms of shapes and textures, fabrics and layers: necklines and collars, for example, and how much skin is showing around the neck and shoulders. In general: reds and reddish colors (yellow/orange/red) tend to appear darker with this process, and blues and bluish colors tend to appear lighter. For more than one person, my recommendation is to create some contrast between you: don't wear the same color, or a color that may render the same. This will bring some depth and dynamism to the image, and help avoid flat tones. I always recommend bringing options we can work with on the day––this can be especially helpful when there is more than one person in the image. If you're unsure where to start or have a question about a specific piece of clothing, reach out.

Yes—however: Modern lenses often have UV or blue-light coatings that can appear tinted or totally opaque in tintypes, and look like you're wearing sunglasses. Try to bring an older pair or non-coated lenses if this is a concern. Otherwise, you’re welcome to remove them for the exposure if you feel comfortable doing so. If you see yourself wearing glasses, and it would feel strange to be photographed/have a photograph of you without them, let's try our best to find a solution together.

Each tintype is a singular object and cannot be duplicated. I do create and include high-resolution scans of the plates you take home. The tintype itself—the physical plate—is the true image: a piece of light and metal that exists only once.

Imperfection is inherent to this medium, and often where its beauty lives. A chemical streak, a blur, a shift in exposure—all are part of the conversation between chance and intention. I don’t discard these moments; I let them speak. Sometimes the so-called “flaws” are the very heart of the image. If something has gone wrong chemically, I'll reshoot the plate, of course. In rare cases I'll offer a discounted reshoot if someone is really unhappy with an image. These are offered at my discretion, and are, as I said, quite rare.

Yes—with a bit of patience and flexibility. Tintypes require the subject to stay still for several seconds during exposure, so I approach sessions with kids/pets gently, allowing time for movement, curiosity, or rest. The goal isn’t strict stillness but a kind of shared attention. Sometimes the smallest gestures become the most memorable images.

Yes. My work extends beyond portraits into still life, landscapes, and material studies.

I plan on offering my first tintype workshop sometime in July of 2026. It will be limited to four participants. I'm still planning and preparing for it, but you're welcome to read the description below. It's subject to alteration. Wet-plate fundamentals A two-day 4x5” tintype workshop in Kingston, WA. This is a hands-on introduction to the wet-plate process, from pouring plates through varnishing. Across two days, we’ll move through the full workflow together, with time to observe, ask questions, repeat steps, and build familiarity through practice. The goal is not just to complete the process, but to understand how it behaves in real conditions. You’ll leave with a working understanding of how to make tintypes, what materials are required, and how to build a simple, functional setup of your own. You’ll also keep all the tintypes you make during the workshop. This workshop is especially suited for those interested in working: • without a professional darkroom • without running water • with a mobile setup • with little-to-no electricity ⸻ Structure Day One (6 hours, including a 30-minute lunch): Introduction to the full wet-plate process. We’ll work step-by-step through pouring, sensitizing, exposing, developing, fixing, and varnishing. Day Two (5 hours): A return to the process with more flexibility. This day is focused on practice and refinement—revisiting any part of the workflow, or shifting toward portraiture, natural light, and working with others. You’re welcome to bring objects to photograph on either day, and people to photograph on the second day. Notes This workshop does not include instruction on mixing raw chemistry. All chemistry used is sourced from UV Photographics; sourcing information will be provided. Wet-plate materials involve hazardous chemicals. Participation requires signing a liability waiver. You are welcome to bring a respirator; these will not be provided. I do not use one. –––––––––––––––– If this interests you, you can email me directly at redroomtintype@gmail.com –––––––––––––––– If you're interested in another type of workshop, send me a message. I'm open to suggestions and ideas –– if you have a group of a 3-4 people that are interested in a given workshop, we can make it happen.

Commissions, both individual and collaborative, are welcome, whatever it may be –– a portrait session, an installation, or an ongoing dialogue between materials, place, and image. Reach out with your idea, nascent as it may be. Let's talk about it.

Yes, if the time, space, and occasion calls. If you have a question or idea you're wondering about, feel free to reach out — I'm happy to discuss what's possible.

Handle your tintype gently, by the edges, and don't display it in direct sunlight. You can dust it off with a soft cotton shirt. It's best stored and displayed in a dry, stable environment. Like any metal object, it can age over time—an evolution I see as part of its life rather than a loss.

Because the process slows me down. Because I find the emulsions endlessly beautiful. Because it allows me to think in the elemental terms of light and shadow. Because it brings me together with so many people. Because it invites presence, patience, and a kind of collaboration with light and matter. Because I love working with long exposures. Because imperfection feels honest. Because each plate is a small act of attention—a record of the moment as it really was, yet seen it a way I never could without it.