We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Chad Westover. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Chad below.
Alright, Chad thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. We’d love to hear about a project that you’ve worked on that’s meant a lot to you.
My background—academically and professionally—has always centered around scientific and technical imaging. I’ve worked with thermal cameras in laboratories, captured high-speed video for research and engineering education, and leaned over a beating heart with a macro lens in an operating room. These are the kinds of projects that excite me: precise, technical, and deeply purposeful.
Occasionally, though, I get the opportunity to work on more creative projects, and I really enjoy the shift in pace and process. As a photography educator, I work with university students who have a wide range of goals. Some are drawn to 3D, video, post-production, or image editing; others to specific photography genres. I try to accommodate as many of these interests as possible. My classes are intentionally broad to reflect the flexibility of the degree program I teach in—more on that later.
But two years ago, I started to feel that something was missing. While my classes offered “a little something for everyone,” students who wanted to dive deeper and build real expertise didn’t always have the structure or support to do so. At the same time, I realized I needed a creative outlet myself.
I already advised two official ASU student organizations, one of them being a casual photography club. I figured starting a third wouldn’t be too much more to take on. I approached a few students with the idea of forming a group focused on meaningful, portfolio-worthy work—projects with real complexity, teamwork, and depth. The goal was to create a space where students could build standout portfolios and gain real-world experience beyond class assignments.
That’s how the Photo Portfolio Club was born—a university-sanctioned and funded student organization with a simple but ambitious premise: every member would plan and lead their own portfolio project and, in turn, assist others with theirs. These weren’t just solo efforts; they were collaborative productions requiring planning, commitment, and creative problem-solving. The official status of the club gave students credibility when requesting media passes, reaching out to businesses, or booking university spaces and resources.
One of the first opportunities that came out of the club began with a conversation in one of my photography classes. A student who played on the ASU Women’s Ice Hockey team mentioned their upcoming media day—they were planning to take player and team photos for use throughout the season. But they were doing it all themselves: using a small room near the rink, buying their own backdrop and cheap lights, and trying to make it work.
Having seen firsthand the level of media production and budget that (then) PAC-12 football teams received, I knew we could do better than selfies in a supply closet. I invited the team to our studio, and together with members of the portfolio club, we produced a full library of high-quality headshots, portraits, and action photos that the team could use for their marketing and communications throughout the year.
For the students, it was a multi-day production that gave them experience working with real clients—college athletes and coaches—in a fast-paced, collaborative environment. It’s the kind of professional-level project that goes far beyond what they’d encounter in a classroom assignment.
Fast forward through several more client and personal projects led by club members, and we arrive at one of the most transformative collaborations: a partnership with students from the ASU School of Dance. Much like the hockey team, the dance students had incredible talent and vision, but limited access to the media resources needed to bring their ideas to life. A natural collaboration emerged.
My introduction to this world came through a complex and ambitious art film conceptualized, choreographed, directed, and produced by graduate student Valkyrie Yao, titled Insert Coin to Play. We had one day to shoot everything. The production included slow-motion cinematography, indoor drone footage, still photography, motion-controlled tracking shots, and more. It was an intense, rewarding experience unlike anything I’d done before.
The work ethic and creative energy of the dance students was incredibly inspiring, and the final film has gone on to receive international recognition. It was recently selected for inclusion in the 32nd Beijing International Film Festival, awarded the New Youth Feature Film Award at the 2025 New Youth International Dance Film Festival, and named Best Dance Video Art Film at the 2025 The Way Dance Video Art Exhibition.
That project springboarded me into a series of other collaborations with dance students, and it continues to be a much-needed creative outlet that motivates and inspires me.
Looking back, what makes this project—and the club as a whole—so meaningful to me is how it bridges technical skill, creative collaboration, and real-world experience. It’s given students the chance to build meaningful portfolios, grow their confidence, and see themselves as capable professionals long before graduation. For me, it’s also rekindled my own passion for creative production and reminded me why I love both teaching and image-making. These collaborations have created a space where everyone involved—myself included—can take risks, push boundaries, and make work that matters.
(potentially relevant link: https://news.asu.edu/20250429-arts-humanities-and-education-multidisciplinary-artist-finds-collaboration-new-ways )
Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.
One of my core childhood memories is lying on the floor for hours, peering through a handheld 35mm slide viewer and combing through boxes of my dad’s nature photos. He was a high school biology teacher with a passion for the natural world and an eye for photography, and that early exposure shaped me deeply. In high school, I made a pinhole camera out of an oatmeal carton and developed my prints in the darkroom—and I was hooked. I took every photography class available and became the yearbook photographer for my small-town school.
After high school, I spent two years in Europe as a missionary, where I developed a love for people from all walks of life and a deep appreciation for cultural diversity. Looking back, I can see that my desire to tell meaningful stories through photography was already beginning to grow.
When I returned to the U.S., I initially found work in the construction industry. It was steady and profitable, but not fulfilling. After a few years, I decided to pursue an education. I bounced between majors—medicine, accounting, fine art photography—before finally landing in a small program called Graphic Information Technology. It was a perfect fit: a blend of creativity and technical skill. Unlike the fine art program, which required two years of classes before ever lifting a camera, this program gave me access to a digital photo studio (rare and cutting-edge at the time), design software, and a multidisciplinary approach to visual communication. I dove headfirst into HTML, illustration, Photoshop—and especially digital photography and imaging technology.
Outside of class, I took on freelance photo gigs and volunteered my time. I shot events for charities, saw my images on billboards, and got a job as a student worker at ASU’s Print & Imaging Lab. There, I helped establish color workflows, set up large-format printing processes, and saw how my design work supported university-wide communications. In the studio, I managed lab operations and helped launch our first “technical imaging” course, using high-speed and thermal cameras for research. As a grad student, I worked as a research assistant on a FEMA-funded project developing emergency communication materials for campuses. All the while, I was building experience in photography, video, editing, and visual storytelling for both education and research.
After graduating, I became a staff photographer at the University of Arizona medical school with a joint appointment with the hospital. I photographed everything from the annual report and marketing campaigns to open-heart surgeries—often standing on a stool, camera in hand, steadied by the anesthesiologist while I leaned out over the operating table.
The same week I received my degree from ASU in the mail, I was invited to start teaching part-time. I worked in two cities, commuting twice a week and loved every minute of both jobs. After two years of juggling full-time photography work and part-time instruction, I made the leap to academia full-time, returning to teach at my alma mater. Since 2012, I’ve been teaching courses in design, photography, printing, and imaging technologies, helping students blend creativity with technical skill—just like I did.
Today, my work sits at the intersection of creativity, technology, and education. I specialize in technical and creative photography, video production, and visual storytelling, making images either captured or created in traditional ways or completely composited, rendered, or generated—particularly for research, education, and commercial applications. I use drones, 3D and VR cameras, and still shoot 35mm film. Whether I’m helping students produce professional portfolio work, partnering with university departments on visual communication strategies, or creating media for clients in science, engineering, or the arts, my goal is always the same: to make images that are not just visually compelling, but also meaningful and effective. What sets my work apart is a unique blend of technical precision, creative collaboration, and a deep commitment to education. I’m most proud of the opportunities I’ve helped create for students—especially through initiatives like the Photo Portfolio Club—and of the ways I’ve been able to build bridges between disciplines using photography as the common language. If there’s one thing I want people to know about me and my work, it’s that I care deeply about craft, collaboration, and helping others tell their stories with clarity, purpose, and impact.
Is there mission driving your creative journey?
At this stage in my career, the most meaningful goal driving my creative journey is mentorship. I still love the craft of photography—the technical challenges, the creative exploration—but what really fuels me is watching students grow. There’s something incredibly satisfying about seeing someone evolve from unsure or inexperienced into a confident, capable creative professional. I’m especially motivated by those moments when a student realizes they’re actually good at this—and they start to take themselves seriously in a way they maybe hadn’t before.
Recently, one of my students was named the most outstanding graduate in her program. In reflecting on her time at ASU, she wrote: “Professor Westover has been an extraordinary mentor, transforming my academic experience through engaging classes, unexpected opportunities, and unwavering support. From generously opening the studio for my personal and client work to consistently challenging me to reach my full potential, he has been instrumental in my professional growth.” That kind of feedback reminds me why I do what I do. My mission is to create those kinds of experiences—to open doors, offer real-world challenges, and be a consistent support system for students as they find their footing. If I can play a small role in helping them bridge the gap between where they are and where they want to be, I consider that a success.
And the truth is, as much as I hope I’ve helped my students grow, they’ve helped me grow too—pushing me to stay sharp, stay curious, and stay inspired in my own creative work. Mentorship isn’t just about giving back; it’s also about staying connected to what made me love this craft in the first place.
Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?
One thing I think non-creatives sometimes struggle to understand is how much of my work lives at the intersection of technical precision and creative expression. On the surface, photography can seem simple—just point a camera and press a button—but in my world, it’s often about translating complex research, engineering concepts, or educational goals into visual stories that are not only accurate, but engaging. I’ve worked in labs capturing high-speed phenomena, documented surgical procedures with the same attention to detail as a scientific report, and created marketing images that need to communicate trust and professionalism in a single frame. In all of that, the challenge is not just capturing an image—it’s using lighting, composition, timing, and visual language to communicate meaning. That’s where the creative side comes in.
People often separate the technical and the artistic, but for me, the best work happens when those two worlds merge. My background in technical imaging and commercial photography helps me bring clarity and precision to creative projects, and my love for storytelling and aesthetics helps elevate technical visuals beyond just documentation. I think the real magic is in that balance—when you can make something both accurate and beautiful, informative and emotionally resonant. That’s when an image really does its job.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://chadwestover.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/chadwestover
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/chadwestover/
Image Credits
Chad Westover