Chris Michel
Chris, you’ve worn many hats: Naval officer, entrepreneur, writer, explorer. Your photographs reveal something quieter, more essential. What has stayed constant at the core of who you are, regardless of the chapter or title?
Curiosity and reverence. Those two have never left me. Whether I was flying reconnaissance missions over the ocean, building a company, or standing knee-deep in snow photographing a scientist, I’ve always been pulled toward the edge of human experience. The places where the familiar begins to slip away and something larger starts to speak. Sometimes that voice comes through in wind and silence. Sometimes it appears in a glance, a gesture, or a moment of stillness between thoughts.
Photography became the through-line. A way to stay present in the midst of motion. It gave me a way to hold onto the awe that otherwise slips past us in real time. A way to make meaning out of fleeting encounters. Over the years, I’ve come to see the camera not as a tool to take pictures, but as an instrument for witnessing. What I’m really trying to do is honor what is already there…the quiet dignity of a scientist in their lab, the resilience etched into a face weathered by polar storms, the calm resolve in the eyes of someone facing the unknown.
What stays constant is a sense of humility in the face of it all. Titles come and go. Roles evolve. But standing in front of another person with a camera, or watching the sky turn pink over an empty stretch of ice, I am reminded again and again that the world is far more intricate, more beautiful, and more mysterious than I can ever fully grasp. That reminder keeps me searching, keeps me grateful, and keeps me still enough to pay attention.
Much of your work centers on bearing witness to what makes us human, whether on the edge of the world or in a quiet corner of a lab. When did you first realize that the camera could be a tool not just for documentation, but for meaning-making?
I remember photographing a scientist in a cluttered lab late one afternoon. The air was still. Equipment buzzed softly in the background. The light fell just right, cutting through the shadows and catching something unguarded in their expression. It wasn’t triumph or certainty. It was doubt, wonder, maybe both. And in that moment, I understood that the photograph wasn’t about their résumé or achievements. It was about their interior world—the fragile, searching part of them that makes curiosity possible.
That was the turning point. The camera stopped being just a recorder of facts and became something else entirely. A way to honor what exists beneath the surface. A tool for capturing what cannot be easily explained: the vulnerability, the awe, the quiet conviction that propels someone to explore.
Since then, that has been the work. Whether I am in Antarctica or in old laboratory at Berkeley, I am trying to capture something human and fleeting. Because in the end, it is not the facts we hold onto. It is the feeling of being seen.
New Heroes brings a soulful gaze to the world of science, capturing those who’ve invested their lives in expanding human understanding. What drew you to create this project, and how do you earn the trust of your subjects in such personal portrayals?
The world needs new heroes. At a time when public attention is often pulled toward the loudest voices and the most fleeting stories, I felt a deep pull to turn the lens toward those working quietly behind the scenes. Scientists, engineers, and medical researchers are shaping our future in profound ways. Their work often unfolds far from the spotlight, in long hours, in solitude, in pursuit of ideas that may not show results for years. That devotion moved me. I wanted to honor it.
The National Academies gave this vision a home. As their Artist-in-Residence, I was invited into a world most people rarely get to see. What I discovered was not just brilliance, but humanity. These are people driven by questions more than answers. People who live with uncertainty, who work toward solutions that serve others, who care deeply about the long arc of knowledge. New Heroes was created to share that world. To put faces to the people behind the breakthroughs. To give form to a kind of quiet courage that often goes unnoticed.
Trust begins with presence. I do not arrive with assistants or spectacle. I come alone, and I listen. Sometimes we talk about science, sometimes we talk about nothing in particular. The camera stays away until something shifts. When there is a moment of calm or honesty or reflection, I begin to photograph. These portraits are not performances. They are conversations.
The most meaningful images often come in silence. A glance, a breath, a moment between thoughts. I am not trying to impress or direct. I am trying to witness. My goal is always to create space for the subject to simply be themselves. That is when something true appears.
In the end, New Heroes is about shifting attention. It is about placing value on inquiry, persistence, humility, and care. It is about reminding people that science is not an institution or an abstraction. It is a human endeavor. And the people behind it are worth seeing clearly.
In photographing these remarkable individuals, light becomes a quiet collaborator. What role has light played in shaping the emotional tone of New Heroes, and how have Harlowe’s lights and modifiers helped you shape the stories you envision without losing intimacy?
Light is language. I’m not after spectacle. I'm after depth, dignity, subtlety. The Harlowe 80W paired with the 24 inch Quick Release Softbox gives me control without intrusion. It wraps the subject in softness, with just enough falloff to hold space and shadow. It's portable, but more importantly, it’s poetic.
- Regular price
- Sale price
- from $699.00
Can you walk us through a typical lighting setup for one of your portraits? What gear do you reach for first, and how do you approach building light that meets your vision?
The entire setup fits in a backpack & a small sling: the Harlowe 80W with battery and the 24 inch Quick Release Softbox. That’s it. I’ll often place the light just off-axis, slightly above eye level, feathered gently. I mostly photograph in dark rooms but will supplement with ambient light when it serves the image. I never let gear get in the way of connection. It has to be fast, quiet, and beautiful. Harlowe delivers.
- Regular price
- Sale price
- $299.00
You've mentioned that modifiers have become an essential part of your toolkit. Which specific Harlowe modifiers do you find yourself returning to, and what qualities do they bring to the image?
The 24 inch Quick Release Softbox is my go-to. It’s lightweight, collapses fast, and gives me the kind of soft, directional light I love. It’s perfect for tight quarters, labs, offices, corners of observatories, yet never compromises on quality.
- Regular price
- Sale price
- $299.00
You’ve now used Harlowe lighting for over a year. Looking back, has it changed the way you prepare, shoot, or even see your subjects? What is it about the Harlowe approach that resonates with the way you move through the world as a photographer and a human being?
Harlowe has changed the way I see. Not just the way I light, but the way I observe. The way I wait. The way I bring a subject into focus, not only with the lens, but with my full attention. From the first time I used it, I could feel the difference. The light is soft but articulate. It contours a face without overwhelming it. It gives depth without demanding drama. It allows me to shape a scene with subtlety, to carve out mood from shadow and quiet from brightness.
It helps me see emotion more clearly. It lets me work in service of the subject, not the setup. That shift is not technical. It is personal.
Because I often work alone, I need my tools to disappear. Harlowe does that. It is compact, self-contained, and intuitive. But more importantly, it helps me stay present. I can move through a space with calm. I can adapt. I can respond to the energy in the room instead of fighting it with gear. That mobility allows me to stay in relationship with the person in front of me. And that relationship is everything.
Over the past year, I have noticed a change in how I prepare. I think more about light as an emotional presence. Not just something that reveals form, but something that carries feeling. I pay attention to how it moves across skin, how it wraps around a moment. I notice how a single shift in angle or intensity can change the entire emotional register of an image. That kind of awareness stays with me, even when I am not holding a camera.
The Harlowe system has become part of my rhythm. It supports the way I work, but also the way I think. I am drawn to what is quiet, what is human, what is real. I want my photographs to hold something of the interior world. That requires a kind of trust between subject and photographer. Harlowe helps create the conditions for that trust to emerge. The light does not intrude. It listens.
In the end, the best portraits are not about performance. They are about presence. They capture something unspoken. Something true. That is what I am always chasing. And Harlowe has helped me get closer.
If you could ask Harlowe to design a new light, something that doesn’t exist yet but lives in your imagination, what would it be? What kind of creative or emotional need would it help fulfill in your work?
I'd love to see modifiers that are even smaller and faster, something that fits neatly in a camera bag. Is a 12 inch lightbox even possible? That kind of portability would be a game changer for photographers like me who work solo and need to move quickly without sacrificing quality. It would allow me to keep the same soft, intimate light I rely on, even in the most space-constrained environments.
