About Lis Tyroler

A woman with long dark hair, smiling and laughing, wearing a white dress with buttons and accessorized with earrings, a bracelet, and a ring, sitting against a gray background.

About Me

There are two kinds of beauty.

There is capital B Beauty: a Caravaggio, a sunset, a child's face mid-laugh. The kind that grabs you, that makes you feel briefly that the world is bearable and worth paying attention to. And then there is little b beauty: fitting in, looking flattering, meeting the standard. The kind you perform for.

I spent a lot of my life confusing the two.

I've been a feminist since I was twelve. Body-positive in theory for as long as I can remember. When I was in my twenties, working as an art model, something shifted. Seeing myself in photographs again and again, I started to see something I hadn't been able to see before: my body as form, as light and shadow, as ART. It didn’t matter if the angle was flattering, the power was in the story created by composition.

Then I had kids. My body changed faster than I could track it, into a shape I barely recognized. When people talked about “getting our bodies back,” I began to ask myself: what if it's okay not to feel pretty right now? What if I don't owe the world pretty?

It’s hard to say in the thick of it which photos of my own children I will cherish one day. What I kept coming back to was this: when I look at a photo of my mother holding me as a baby, I have never once thought about whether it was a flattering angle. Of course she’s gorgeous, but the point is that I only ever felt the love of a baby fully relaxed against their mother. The photos I treasure from my childhood are never the perfect ones, everyone looking at the camera, everyone ready. They're my sisters showing their personality before I even made memories. The way my grandfather gazes at me while he brushes my hair.

Those are the sacred ones.

That's what I believe photography is, at its best: not the performance of beauty, but the witnessing of it. The capital B kind. The kind that has nothing to do with flattering and everything to do with truth.

I'm Lis. I've been a photographer in Durham for fifteen years. I work with families, schools, and people who are ready to be seen exactly as they are, especially those who have spent too long stepping out of the frame. My background is in theater and somatic work, which means I know how to help people arrive in their bodies rather than perform for a lens. I also mentor photographers who want to do this kind of work with more intention.

I’m Lis — portrait photographer, somatic nerd, and dedicated enemy of the posed fake smile.

A woman holding a baby on her lap, sitting on a bench outdoors with trees in the background.
Black and white photo of a woman with short curly hair, wearing a smile, and a dark top with a bow detail at the neckline.
A young girl with curly hair wearing a wide-brimmed hat with a ribbon and a plaid shirt, smiling with one eye showing.
An elderly man with gray hair and a beard sitting at a table with a young girl with dark hair and bangs, smiling and holding a hairbrush, inside a wooden-paneled room.
A woman and a young girl share a joyful moment indoors, with the woman holding the girl as they look at each other.

Some fun facts about lis

I contain multitudes. Here are a few of them.

I'm a Durham mom, a raging feminist, a former oncology social worker, and a person who takes her camera to parties. Here's what you should probably know about me before we work together:

  • I have had approximately five billion careers and I’ve been passionate about all of them. It took me a while to realize that each one led me to exactly where I am today. I like to joke that my ADD is my superpower, because I’m always discovering really cool new things to love and amazing new ways to do things.

    As much as I loved my past careers, I love co-creating art with people most of all. I take cameras to parties because nothing in the world is more fascinating and fun than watching humans (and, let’s be real, animals) engage with each other. 

  • Ok, I know I said ADD was my superpower, but my clients tell me it’s that I’m the kid whisperer.

    I am really really good at connecting with tiny humans. Even when I was a kid, I always loved hanging with the little ones. I’m a deep believer in treating kids like actual people. Really hilarious, deeply weird, wild people — just like me! I’m not afraid to make a fool of myself to connect with them because they are my favorite kind of human! The results are photos and experiences they (and their parents) really really enjoy. 

  • I’m a raging feminist. Like, absolutely, unabashed, smash-the-patriarchy, body positive, strident, feminist.

    Do I hate men? NO! I love men! I was raised by a single dad and am a mother of two awesome boys. I do hate toxic masculinity and I rabidly teach my boys about consent. I practice that in my photography and won’t touch anyone without asking. I won’t make kids do anything they don’t want to. I don’t force fake smiles because kids are perfect exactly as they are and soulful gazes are better than cheese face.

    I also know how hard it is as a mom to get in the photo and the world is telling us that we should look different. I have personally cried after seeing myself in photos and I know that the world has traumatized many of us with its judgment. I’ve been doing the work to love the body I’m in. I’m looking at you through eyes of legitimately unconditional positive regard and I love your body and face too. I want you to love it as much as I do.

  • You hate the idea of trying to get everyone “ready” for photographs.

    You’d almost rather do anything else than get in front of a camera.

    Your photo roll is filled with pictures of your kids—and you’re not in any of them.

    You know that in 10 (or 30) years, you’ll ache to go home again.

    I come to you with no judgment or expectations, and together, we create your legacy pieces in heirloom albums and prints—because photographs are far more powerful than memory alone. 

A woman and young girl taking a selfie with a Canon camera, smiling and holding the camera together.

“NO OTHER PHOTOS OF MY CHILDREN LOOK AS MUCH LIKE THEM AS THE ONES YOU TAKE. THEY LOVE BEING AROUND YOU!”

- kate

Photography isn’t about performing — it’s about Connection and witnessing.

The process of our creative journey
A woman with dark brown hair, gold earrings with a message, and layered necklaces, touching her hair with her right hand, wearing a black top, against a plain light background.

1. We begin with connection.
Before I pick up the camera, we talk. I want to know who you are, what lights you up, and what you're nervous about. The session doesn't start when I press the shutter. It starts with connection.

2. You are already ready.
I'm not here to flatter you or fix you. I'm here to witness you. Whatever you're carrying about your body, your face, your age - you don't have to put it down before you show up. Bring all of it. That's what we're working with.

3. The body leads the way.
My background is in theater and somatic work, which means I can tell the difference between someone performing for a lens and someone actually inhabiting themselves. My job is to get you out of your head and back into your body - through movement, through conversation, through the moments when you forget I'm there.

4. Real moments over performance.
I'm not chasing the shot where everyone's smiling at the camera (don’t worry, I’ll capture that one too). I'm watching for the moment you look at your kid and forget yourself entirely. The laugh that happens between takes. The gaze that isn't for anyone. That's the one I want.

5. We go at your pace.
There's no countdown to a fake smile here. No cheesing. For my sensory-sensitive clients especially, we build in breaks, check in, move slowly. The best photos come when you feel safe enough to stop trying. Even mini-sessions which are wild, fast, and feral should feel like play and not work.

LEARN ABOUT THE PORTRAIT EXPERIENCE

Ready to Connect?

Whether you're ready to book or just curious what this whole thing looks like - reach out. I love talking about this work, and I especially love talking to people who have spent too long convincing themselves they're not "photo people."

Contact Me