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.

Studio: Sessions generally last 2-3 hours. I move at the pace the process requires. Overall time depends on how many images we want to make. Each one involves preparation, exposure, and developing in the darkroom. This rhythm—slow, attentive—tends to shape the experience. It’s less about efficiency, more about being present to what unfolds. Pop-Ups: If you reserve a spot at a pop-up, we'll have 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, or the two of you. Parents are welcome to bring one child or two small children (read my notes below about working with children). As a general rule of thumb, my images at pop-ups tend to hold two shoulder-widths max.

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. I always recommend bringing options that we can discuss on the day.  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. 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.

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.

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 and material studies—often using found, made, or discarded objects as surfaces or subjects.

Absolutely. I welcome commissions, both individual and collaborative. This might take the form of a portrait session, an installation, or an ongoing dialogue between materials, place, and image. Reach out with your idea,(https://www.redroomtintype.com/booking) small as it may be, and we’ll discuss a shape that fits.

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 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 imperfection feels honest. Because each plate is a small act of attention—a record of the moment as it really was.