A tintype is a direct, one-of-a-kind photograph made on a metal plate coated with light-sensitive chemistry. Each image is exposed and developed by hand in real time. The result isn’t a reproduction—it’s a physical object bearing the traces of its making: fingerprints, light leaks, uneven edges. Every tintype carries a singular presence.

If you reserve a spot at an event or an open studio day, 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.

A private session at my studio generally lasts a couple of hours, though I move at the pace the process requires. Overall time depends on how many total tintypes you want, ranging from 1 to a set of 3 or more. Each plate 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.

I'm not currently offering private sessions, but will update my Seattle availability for 2026 by early December.

Wear something that feels like you. Subtle textures, muted tones, or garments with personal significance often translate beautifully. The process renders color into tone and contrast, so natural fabrics, layers, and shapes tend to reveal unexpected nuances. Think of dressing as part of the collaboration rather than a performance.

Yes—though it depends on the lenses. Modern glasses often have UV or blue-light coatings that can appear opaque in tintypes, sometimes obscuring the eyes. If you have an older pair or non-coated lenses, those usually photograph best. 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 these sessions 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 beyond the tintype—often using found or discarded objects as surfaces or subjects. These images explore transformation, memory, and the quiet mysticism of what’s been left behind.

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, and we’ll find a shape that fits.

I do, when possible. The darkroom setup can travel, and I’m always open to invitations that make sense with the work. Send me a note with where you are and what you have in mind.

Handle your tintype gently, by the edges, and keep it out of direct sunlight. It’s best stored or 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 invites presence, patience, and a kind of collaboration with light and matter. Because imperfection feels honest. Each plate is a small act of attention—a record of the moment as it really was.