The intention behind shooting dialogue-driven conference portraiture came about in May of 2017. As then interim-editor of Clay & Milk, I was interested in covering EntreFEST — the two-day conference, “celebrating the spirit of entrepreneurship and innovation where professionals at every level can come together, share ideas, and own their success.”
Most conferences ensure coverage encompasses their keynote speaker(s) — as it should, since in most cases, that’s the greatest draw for attendees and probably the largest budget allocation. Most conferences are covered photographically from the back of the room forward, ensuring proper speaker stage presence is captured (and so so many backs of heads). Also: can’t forget the food. So many pictures of the conference food. We get it. A sponsor paid for it. Okay.
I wanted the online tech publication’s coverage to be different. Because EntreFEST is different. While you perhaps go for the speaker, I’m more inclined to say one goes to EntreFEST for the sense of belonging. You go because you're an entrepreneur and sometimes so young of one that you’ve got no where else to go.
Perhaps you go because you just got business cards for the first time and damn if you’re not going to try and give them all away in one day.
Maybe you go because you desperately want to believe your idea has a fighting chance.
You desperately want to believe that you have a fighting chance.
While the shooting philosophy wouldn’t be called the Creative Confessional until many months later when I had a full moon a-ha, EntreFEST was its first inception.
I was tucked into the corner between a window and a record player because I was a late add and there was no where else to put me (best case scenario, in my opinion). In most cases, I had to plead for someone to sit on my barstool. But because of that spirit, they did. One at a time and only a fraction of the EntreFEST attendees in 2017, but they did. And they played along, providing earnest answers to my questions — part required for publication coverage, part necessary so I could understand who they actually were behind that lanyard. Because it’s not until you dismantle the LinkedIn Professional into the like-minded soul that you really capture who they are.
