Click here to view a slideshow of families' experiences during an hour at Sears Portrait Studio.It’s 10:10 a.m. The phone is ringing and a woman at the front desk is in full multi-task mode.
An employee is calling to check on the hours of her shift while a woman waits at the desk to pick up pictures.
Another customer is in line to purchase a gift card, made more difficult than it should be due to a tricky computer only a manager can sort out. A mother is sitting in the lobby next to her 6-month-old daughter, waiting to be ushered into the studio for a 10 a.m. appointment and hoping her baby will save some of those googly faces she’s sharing with strangers for the camera.
Most of the commotion, however, is going on in the next room. Screechy tones, immediately recognized by the adults in the lobby as being of the toddler variety, are spilling into the hall.
A little girl, maybe 3 or 4, wearing a fancy black and cream dress and pig tails, runs out of the room, pausing to flash her goofiest grin to the strangers who turn to put a face to the stomping foot steps. She trots out again moments later wearing pink this time, making lobby dwellers wonder how Mom could have managed to keep her still for a wardrobe change.
This is a five-minute glance at the Sears Portrait Studio in Mankato during the holiday season. During the entire month of December, Sears is overrun with adorable kids in their Christmas best, moms and dads standing by tugging on shirts and spit-licking cowlicks.
About 200 families will come through the studio per week, each with challenges for the photographer. Whining, tears, tantrums, fear, refusals to pose without Mom or Dad, babies preoccupied with something shiny in the corner, fights between siblings, fingers in noses, fingers in siblings’ noses, spilled Kool-Aid on new dresses — so very much stands in the way of that perfect portrait Mom already cleared space for above the mantel.
Yet, somehow, the magic happens. In the flash of a bulb, the staticy hair calms down. The fingers retreat from the mouth and settle onto the lap. The stubborn frown curves into a toothy smile.
And the camera manages to capture that perfect moment in an instant.
It’s a battle, that’s for sure. Ask Jennifer McMahon, Heather Knudson, Jasmine Valentine or any of the other photographers how much time, on average, they spend working for that moment — playing peek-a-boo, making funny faces, bribing with toys.
But as each will attest, they wouldn’t be doing this if they didn’t get a kick out of the chaos.
10:15 a.m.
The pig-tailed toddler and her sibling walk with Mom out of the studio and into the lobby, signaling to little Addison Wassman that it’s her turn. She’s still smiling in her stroller with Mom, Megan Wassman, pushing from behind.
Addy’s practically a pro at the smiling-for-the-birdy thing. This is her third go-round in the portrait studio in her six-month life. She knows the deal.
Having opted for the casual look in a pretty pink tee and baby blue jeans, she sits leaning slightly forward on a purple sheet with Mom a few feet to her right.
The photographer starts with a feather on a stick, dancing it on Addy’s nose. The tactic appears to confuse rather than enthuse, so she moves on to the goo-goo noises. Addy gives a half-smile but not quite what they’re looking for.
Mom knows what to do.
“She does like to play Peek-a-boo,” Megan says.
“Peek-ahh-boooo!” the woman says, jerking a piece of cardboard away from her face.
Addy’s eyes start to squint. Her mouth opens wide into a toothless grin. The shutter closes.
10:30 a.m.
The most trouble little Addy presents is a little drool between shots during her belly poses. Lest the Sears photographers become spoiled by such an easy customer, the Filter twins decide to make Jennifer, studio manager, earn her wage.
Trouble already is brewing when they file into the room with their mom, Jessie Filter, and Grandma, Betty Richter. As Jennifer squats down in front of them offering her friendliest smile and hello, the 3-year-olds scurry behind Mom, who’s sitting on the floor, and hold onto her shoulders.
“There’s a reason we’re six months late for our 3-year photos,” Jessie says. “I dread doing this.”
A little coaxing and Jennifer gets Devin Filter onto the paper backdrop. And just as she does, he begins scooting on his bottom back to Mom and Aubrey, who’s still clinging for dear life.
Negotiations begin.
How about I show you how it works? Jennifer says, and takes a picture of Mom and the twins to show them it doesn’t hurt a bit.
How about I go get a ball? She offers.
This is more like it.
“A ball?” Devin says. “What ball?”
Holding it in his hands is enough of a distraction to keep him still. But it’s too much of a distraction to get him to look at Jennifer.
“Look at me. Hey, honey, look at me,” she says.
Doesn’t work. So Jennifer politely takes the ball back and tries another way.
She tosses the ball up in the air, and Devin’s eyes follow it right back down to Jennifer’s hand as she catches it, smiling all the way.
The shutter closes.
10:42 a.m.
The lobby has started to buzz. A delivery of large boxes filled with studio supplies arrives and staff works to put things away.
Several moms are standing in the lobby, waiting for their turns to be taken into the studio for portraits. Addy and Megan are sitting by a computer, waiting for their photographer to pull up the shots they had just taken to make their selections.
Addy’s still smiling.
Aubrey, however, is not smiling yet. Jennifer has won the Devin battle, but Aubrey is feeling particularly stubborn today. She’s also a little preoccupied.
“Get your finger out of your nose,” Jessie said.
Negotiations begin.
“Do you want to hold a teddy bear?” Jennifer says.
“No.”
“How about a puppy?”
“No.”
This is a difficult case. Jennifer recognizes it right away. So she pulls out the big guns.
She tells Jessie to lay her legs across the paper backdrop. Jennifer positions Aubrey on top. The camera won’t see Aubrey’s makeshift chair, and Aubrey has the security blanket she needs to offer a smile to the camera. Now if they could just keep Devin out of the picture.
“Devin, it’s not your turn,” Mom says, trying to shoo the grinning boy out of the frame as the bulb flashes
10:55 a.m.
A young couple with a 4-month-old baby walks into the room Addy had been in. It’s Jasmine’s turn to coax a smile out of this little customer. As she sets up the shot, Jennifer mounts her next offensive: attempting to get the Filter twins together in a shot.
Much needs to happen. Grandma runs back to the stroller in the hallway for hairspray. Aubrey’s baby fine blond hair is defying gravity.
Jennifer has to break the ice all over again and lure the children out from behind Mom.
“Did you steal my cow?” Jennifer says. “What am I going to do if you steal my cow?”
Last year, Jessie recalls, Jennifer had to take Devin’s and Aubrey’s pictures separately and Photoshop them together. But Grandma saves the day. She steps out into the hallway once again, this time for Twizzlers. Devin lights up and runs after her.
“Gramma, can I have Twizzers?” he says, wrapping his arms around her legs.
It works. He sits down on the white bench set against a wintery backdrop and smiles. Whether it be the Twizzlers or her brother’s sudden comfort with this uncomfortable little situation, Abby joins him.
The shutter closes again.
11:05 a.m.
The trouble isn’t over, of course. Just because 3-year-olds suddenly decide to become cooperative doesn’t mean they’re going to stay that way.
Aubrey keeps biting her lower lip, and further applications of hairspray are needed. Devin puts his fingers in front of his face, and a bathroom break is needed. They both make goofy smiles once in a while, and they both decide to retreat behind Mom again.
But the magic does happen. Between the nose-picking, the stubborn “No”s, the hiding and the whining, Jennifer hits the shutter at just the right moments, and Jessie and Grandma end up with so many good shots, they have some negotiating of their own to do in the lobby to choose which photos to order.
“Good job, guys,” Jennifer says. “You did it.”
In the studio over, the process starts all over again with Jasmine behind the camera. Luckily, Aubrey Vogel, the 4-month-old baby of Nick Vogel and Kelsey Krueger, isn’t going to pose a Filter-size challenge.
She’s pretty laid back. Literally, actually, because Jasmine has her positioned on blankets inside a basket.
It just takes a bit of work to coax out that smile. Goo-goo noises, high-pitched hellos, clapping in front of her face and Dad leaning in to say “Hi ... hi ... hi ... hi” doesn’t work too slick.
But then Jasmine leans in with a piece of cardboard and waves cool air in her face.
And like magic, the perfect shot presents itself.
