Michiel Heijmans

From the street to the treehouse

Wednesday 10 December 2025, 23:23 by | 1,552 views | 0 comments

This article was translated from Dutch with the help of AI. Read the original.

Five years ago, when I walked away from a desk job, I could never have dreamed of the treehouse where I now take my photos.

The end of the year is approaching, and whether you like it or not, December is the month for reflection. Have I done enough? And do I have enough plans for 2026? Am I disappointed by things, or have things gone differently than expected? Which dreams have I achieved, and which are still nowhere near within reach?

A month ago, I walked back from a photo shoot, got into my car and drove to my new studio. A new studio was not even a dream of mine, really. Let alone having my own studio.

Last year, I was not really focused on studio portraits at all. I gave my street photography workshops, the talks for CameraNU and I took corporate portraits.

I still take those corporate portraits. And the workshops and talks have all become regular parts of my working months.

Treehouse


I look out of the window across the meadows, and see a bird flying in the distance. There are some horses grazing in the distance, and in the foreground are the lorries of a haulage company. I do not even see them any more, because nature has my main focus.

That nature, and the distant views, are why I jokingly call my studio my treehouse. It really does feel that way. It is that Wednesday afternoon hobby club where you come to do woodwork and mould clay. That place where your own creativity makes everything possible.

In my treehouse, there is mainly a lot of space to be yourself. I do that too. During hours-long conversations, I reflect with the people I later photograph on dreams, plans and the future.

And sometimes we also talk about the things we have experienced. The things that have shaped us and made us who we are today. There is power in those conversations. People look softer in the photos, or stronger. But in any case, they look like themselves.

London street photography


Street photography


Street photography was not eating away at me. Not at all, in fact, and it still makes up about half of my working week. I like being there, outside, among people.

In fact, I have just returned from my workshop in London, and I have developed a renewed love for this genre of photography. Really, it was a deeper exploration of what I was already doing.

I have even adapted my workshops to reflect this. No longer just street photography, but conceptual photography on the street. Is that very different? No, the main difference is the reason, or the idea, you take with you when you go out onto the street.

I ask participants to define a key word. What kind of images do you want to make? What type of photography best suits the street photography you want to learn?

Perhaps it has to do with photographing more consciously. And I think that partly comes from the deeper conversations I have in my treehouse.

In principle, my portraits are a logical consequence of my street photography. I meet a lot of people in the street, but they do not meet me. They are fleeting contacts, where they sometimes thank me with a smile, but have no idea why.

It is a small step to corporate portraits, where I have the pleasure of seeing someone for seven minutes, while the next person is already waiting. Two people in fifteen minutes, eight people in an hour. You only meet those people very briefly too.

Getting used to a studio


I do not even remember exactly which month it was, but when my photography friend Roy was looking for someone to share his studio with, I felt that I had to say yes.

I had things to work out. Was studio photography something for me? I had tried it a few years earlier, and had concluded that it was not.

But the need to talk to people, have somewhere for coffee and take the occasional photo drew me to that shared studio.

At the studio, I occasionally left something there, to make it a little bit mine too. But 90 per cent of what was in the room was naturally not mine.

That is not a problem at all now, and I was happy to use the reflectors and other props that were there. But it was not my place.

Now that I have my treehouse, I realise that very clearly. I did a number of photo shoots there, and it left me wanting much more. When Roy left the studio and space became available close to my home, I realised that I had to go for it.

Investing


It is not as if my week is filled with paid portrait shoots, meaning I can pay the rent without a care from the work I do in the studio.

I see it as an investment. When a very strong gut feeling tells me that this is my path, that this is a fantastic addition to street photography, that the two complement each other and can exist perfectly well side by side, I have to give in to it.

And yes, that can sometimes feel a little scary, but in this case the end justifies the means. It will be all right. Everything in me tells me it will work out.

My plan is to make 20 portraits as personal work, discover my style, or at least work out what I enjoy making, and then put it all in a little box. That should eventually become a product. I am currently on 14 portraits.

Looking ahead


In 2026, I will focus on a specific target group: photographers, theatre-makers and musicians, other creative people. They are people who make stories. Storytellers.

I recognise myself in their stories, and grow while discussing the things we still want to do. I gain insights, get people to reflect, but above all, let them "be". It is a slightly strange word, but I notice that the result of those conversations is an authentic portrait.

"I have never looked like this in a photo before, I just look like myself!" Or: "You have brought a calmness to the photos that I normally see much less of."

I said to someone the other day: I want someone to go home with more than just a photo. I want them to go home with a photo that sums up a good conversation. An open conversation. Being able to be yourself in my treehouse.

Looking back


I myself may not have changed all that much over the past year. I have grown from a very interested street photographer, looking for quiet images in a chaotic city, into a portrait photographer with an above-average interest in other people.

In their motivations, inspirations and in the other person themselves. There are so many beautiful people in the world, and half of them do not even know it. It is the sparkle in your eyes, or that very lovely, modest smile.

It is the way you deal with your insecurity, or the mask of confidence that hides it. It is your dreams, your plans. Your enthusiasm.

It is all those things that I hope you will pursue in 2026. They are what allow us to have a good conversation in my treehouse.

I look forward to seeing you in my treehouse.

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Michiel Heijmans

About the author

Michiel is professioneel straatfotograaf en geeft workshops en lezingen over straatfotografie. Hij schrijft columns voor Focus Magazine en is erg actief op Instagram. Daar vind je dagelijks inspiratie en tips voor je eigen straatfotografie!

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Elja Trum

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