Why I Don’t Always Do Family Photo Sessions in a Studio

An honest take from a Milwaukee family photographer who loves a little chaos and a lot of real life.

Yuuppppp, I know…This might be an unpopular opinion.

Possibly a hot take. Maybe even a mild scandal in the world of family photography.

So let’s start with an important clarification:

I do have a studio. I use it. And I genuinely enjoy it.

But if you ask me where I prefer to photograph families—especially families with kids who have energy to spare—I’m going to gently point us outside.

Not because studios are “bad.”
Not because beautifully lit, clean, classic portraits don’t have their place.

But because I’ve seen what happens when kids get a little room to move, breathe, and shake out their wiggles.

And wow—does that change everything.

The Small Space Problem (Also Known as: “Please Don’t Touch That”)

Studios are, by nature, contained. Controlled. Clean. Minimal.

Which can be wonderful—until you invite a toddler, a preschooler, or a curious seven-year-old into the mix.

Suddenly the room becomes a list of rules:
Don’t run.
Don’t touch the lights.
Stay on the mark.
Look at the camera.
Smile again. Bigger this time.

Even in my own studio (which I truly love), I can feel that shift happen. The energy tightens. The pressure sneaks in.

Outside?
That pressure tends to melt away.

Kids get to walk.
They get to climb a little.
They get to burn off that first wave of “I HAVE SO MUCH ENERGY” before we ever ask them to stand still.

And when their bodies relax, their faces follow.

The Pressure to “Perform”

In a studio, it can feel like all eyes are on the kids.
The lights are on.
The camera is ready.
The room is quiet.

And suddenly, instead of being, they’re acting.

Even when we get candids (and yes, we absolutely do), there’s still a sense of “this is happening right now, for the camera, in this one spot, in this one moment.”

When we’re outside, in your home, or walking through one of your favorite Milwaukee spots, something different happens.

Families start talking to each other instead of to me.
Kids forget I’m there.
Parents stop “directing” and start just being with their people.

That’s when the good stuff shows up.

Real Life > Perfect Backdrops

Don’t get me wrong—studio backdrops are beautiful. Clean. Timeless. And sometimes, exactly what a family wants.

But your life?
Your life is layered.

It’s the way your kid insists on bringing the same stick home from every walk.
It’s the way your dog somehow ends up in every family photo.
It’s the way your youngest always needs to be held for “just one more minute.”

When we photograph your family in places that mean something to you—your backyard, your living room, your favorite Milwaukee park, your neighborhood street—that context becomes part of the story.

Years from now, you won’t just see what everyone looked like.
You’ll remember what life felt like.

When the Studio Is the Right Fit

Let’s be real—sometimes a studio is exactly what a family needs.

Maybe you want something clean and classic for holiday cards.
Maybe you love a simple, distraction-free look.
Maybe your kids actually thrive in a calm, quiet space (they exist, and I admire them).

That’s when my studio becomes a great option. And I’m happy to use it.

This isn’t about being anti-studio.
It’s about being pro-choice, pro-connection, and pro-whatever-brings-out-the-best-version-of-your-family.

What I Usually Recommend

If your kids have energy to burn (and most do), I often suggest starting outside or in a more open space.

Let them walk.
Let them explore.
Let them get the wiggles out.

Then, when we do pause for those “everyone looking at the camera” moments, it feels easier. Lighter. Less like a task and more like a natural pause in your time together.

Grandma still gets her frame-worthy photo.
You still get your holiday card image.
And you also get the in-between moments that feel like real life.

The Big Picture

This isn’t about choosing a location.
It’s about choosing a feeling.

I want your family photos to feel like a memory, not an assignment.
Like time spent together, not something you had to “get through.”

Whether that happens in my studio or under a big Wisconsin sky, my goal is always the same:

Photos that feel like you. Peroid.