Kelly Wenham, photographed by James Melia
I met Kelly Wenham for the first time in my Manchester studio on a grey morning that felt very Manchester about it. No big build up. No elaborate plan. Just a shared sense that we could keep things simple and see what happened if we paid attention.
Kelly is an actor and comedian, which is obvious in conversation in a subtle way. Not jokes for the sake of it. More an awareness of timing, of when to speak and when to let something sit. That rhythm matters in a portrait session more than people think. It shapes the pauses. It changes how someone stands, how long they hold a look, how quickly they reset.
We talked for a bit before picking up the camera. The usual getting to know each other, but without forcing it. First time meeting, first time working together, and one of those situations where things felt easy early on. I tend to notice that more than anything technical. If the room relaxes, the photographs usually follow.
The shoot was studio based, black and white, and intentionally stripped back. No distraction. No props doing the heavy lifting. Just light, space, and time. Black and white has a way of asking for honesty. It removes the safety net of colour and pushes everything onto expression and posture. You feel it when someone leans into that rather than performing for it.
What I liked about this session was how collaborative it felt without ever being discussed as such. We adjusted things quietly. A half step forward. A pause before the shutter. A look held a second longer than planned. Kelly was open to small suggestions but also brought their own instincts into the room, which is often where the most grounded portraits come from.
There was no pressure to arrive at a specific version of themselves. No “this is my serious face” or “this is my comedy headshot”. We let the lines blur a little. That space in between tends to be more interesting anyway. Especially for actors, where stillness is often doing more work than expression.
Manchester studios can sometimes feel enclosed, but that intimacy worked in our favour here. The quieter the room became, the more present the images felt. Less about projecting outward. More about staying with yourself long enough for something honest to surface.
I don’t think portrait sessions need to be intense to be meaningful. This one wasn’t. It was calm. Attentive. Slightly introspective. The kind of shoot where you leave feeling like you were listened to, rather than extracted from.
Those are usually the sessions I remember.
And the ones that tend to last.
Portrait of actor Kelly Wenham
