I remember the first time I tried to organize a sports car photoshoot—it was an absolute disaster. The lighting was wrong, the location didn't complement the car's lines, and we ended up with mediocre shots that didn't capture the vehicle's spirit at all. That experience taught me that planning a perfect sports car photoshoot requires the same level of dedication that professional athletes bring to their game. When basketball player Rondae Hollis-Jefferson said, "It's us fighting like hell. Fighting to win, fighting to play an excellent game," he might as well have been describing what it takes to create outstanding automotive photography. You need that same fighting spirit—that commitment to maximum effort from start to finish.
Let me walk you through what I've learned over my 12 years in automotive photography. The first step is always understanding your subject intimately. Last month, I shot a 2023 Porsche 911 GT3, and I spent three full days just researching the car's design philosophy, its racing heritage, and what makes it special. This isn't just about knowing specs—it's about feeling the car's character. Does it have the aggressive stance of a track weapon or the elegant lines of a grand tourer? This understanding directly informs every other decision you'll make. I typically allocate about 15-20 hours for this research phase because getting it wrong means your photos will lack soul, no matter how technically perfect they are.
Location scouting is where most photographers drop the ball, in my opinion. I've seen too many amazing cars photographed in boring parking lots. You need a location that complements the car's personality while providing practical advantages for shooting. For that Porsche shoot, I chose a winding coastal road at dawn—the asphalt's curves mirrored the car's flowing lines, and the morning light created incredible highlights along the bodywork. But here's the thing I learned the hard way: always visit locations at exactly the time you plan to shoot. A spot that looks perfect at noon might be useless at golden hour because of shadow patterns. I once wasted an entire shoot because I didn't account for how surrounding buildings would block the late afternoon light I was counting on.
The equipment question comes up constantly, and while gear matters, it matters less than you might think. I've gotten my best shots with relatively modest setups—a Canon R5 with two lenses (24-70mm and 70-200mm) and a polarizing filter to control reflections. What makes the real difference is how you use it. My rule of thumb: bring only what you can comfortably carry and set up quickly because when the light is perfect, you have about 27 minutes on average to get your shots before conditions change. That's why I always pack light and know my gear inside out—no fumbling with settings when magic is happening.
Now let's talk about the actual shooting process, which is where Hollis-Jefferson's philosophy really hits home. "Fighting to give maximum effort. All 48 minutes, whether we go up or not. Just staying locked in." That's exactly the mindset you need during a shoot. I break my sessions into segments—establishing shots, detail shots, action shots—and approach each with complete focus. For dynamic shots, I use a follow vehicle about 85% of the time, maintaining a distance of 20-30 feet while matching speeds of 25-45 mph. The key is constant communication between drivers and photographers—we use helmet comms systems so we can adjust positioning in real-time. When you're tracking a car through corners, that split-second coordination makes all the difference between a good shot and a breathtaking one.
Lighting is everything in car photography, and this is where I disagree with photographers who rely too heavily on artificial lighting. Natural light reveals a car's true character—the way sunrise highlights carbon fiber weave or how sunset makes paint colors depth you can't replicate with strobes. My preference is always for golden hour shooting, but I'll sometimes shoot at blue hour for those dramatic urban backgrounds. The trick is understanding how different paints respond to light—metallic colors need angled light to pop, while solid colors often look better in soft, even lighting. I've found that matte finishes require completely different approaches, usually needing overcast conditions to look their best.
Post-production is where many photographers go overboard, in my view. I keep editing minimal—basic exposure adjustments, careful color grading to enhance the car's lines, and removing temporary elements like license plates. But I never alter the fundamental shape of the car or add elements that weren't there. My philosophy is that editing should enhance reality, not replace it. I typically spend about 45 minutes per final image, which is significantly less than some photographers I know who might spend 3-4 hours on a single shot. The car should look like it did on location, just with the distractions removed.
What separates good sports car photography from great work, ultimately, is storytelling. Every shot should communicate something about the car's essence—the aggression of a supercar, the elegance of a classic, the precision of a track machine. This is where personal perspective comes in. I have particular affection for capturing cars in motion because static shots often fail to convey the engineering marvel that these machines represent. There's a beautiful tension in a well-executed panning shot at 1/30th shutter speed—the car is sharp while the background streaks into motion lines that scream speed and precision.
Looking back at that failed first photoshoot, I realize now that my mistake was treating it as a technical exercise rather than an artistic endeavor. The best sports car photographers bring that fighter's mentality Hollis-Jefferson described—constantly pushing, constantly refining, never settling. It's about more than just taking pictures of cars; it's about capturing automotive passion in a single frame. Whether you're shooting a million-dollar hypercar or a lovingly restored classic, the approach remains the same: study your subject, master your environment, and pour everything you have into those precious moments when everything aligns. That's how you create images that don't just show cars—they make people feel something when they look at them.
