We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Kris Van Genderen. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Kris below.

Alright, Kris thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. What’s the backstory behind how you came up with the idea for your business?

The Threshold Studio began long before I knew it had a name. As a kid, I filmed my family often – asking questions, and capturing the small details of their lives. I recently found an old tape of me interviewing my grandma with a karaoke-machine microphone with reverb on (haha). Looking back, it’s clear that film became my earliest language for connection – a way of seeing people and learning who they were.

But the real turning point was my Opa.

When he was nearing the end of his life, I felt this instinct to sit with him, ask questions, film him, and document his story. I didn’t think of it as a “project” at the time – it felt more like a calling. Like life tapping me on the shoulder saying, pay attention, this is important.

Creating his legacy film changed everything for me. It allowed him to share his wisdom, his humor, his history – and as a family, we got to celebrate his life with a film screening, with him seated in the front row. He asked for the film to be played at his funeral, and it was.

What I didn’t expect was how healing it would be. Filming him softened something in me. It taught me that stories are a form of medicine – for the storyteller and for the ones who remain. That experience cracked me open to the power of legacy work.

It also led me into end-of-life training with the Anam Cara Academy, where I learned to sit with death in a deeper, more intentional way. Through that process, I realized my work wasn’t just about filmmaking – it was about witnessing the thresholds we cross throughout our lives.

The thresholds of becoming, the ones we step into through meditation, ceremony, breathwork, or simply choosing to live differently. The thresholds we meet when we build something new in the world – like the entrepreneurs I film whose stories are still unfolding. And the thresholds at the end of life, where legacy becomes distilled into its purest form.

I’m drawn to all of it: the legacy we are creating in real time, the legacy we reflect on as life shifts or nears its end, and the quiet inner transformations that happen every time we choose a practice that brings us closer to ourselves. My work sits in those liminal spaces – honoring who we’ve been, who we are, and who we’re becoming.

So the idea for my business grew from that intersection: 
film, legacy, ceremony, breath, and the sacredness of the human experience.

I recognized this was a worthwhile path because there was a clear gap in how we capture and preserve people’s stories. Families wanted deeper connection. Individuals wanted their lives remembered for their essence. Entrepreneurs wanted their mission expressed authentically. It became obvious that this work addressed a real need that wasn’t being met.

What excited me most was the feeling that I was returning to something ancient. Humans have always sat together, told stories, shared wisdom. I simply brought a camera into that space and created a modern vessel for something timeless.

And from there, The Threshold Studio was born – a place where film, legacy, ceremony, and the in-between all come together. A place where stories become offerings that can outlive us.

Kris, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I’m Kris, the founder of The Threshold Studio, where I blend filmmaking, legacy storytelling, and ceremonial practices to honor the important moments and thresholds of a person’s life.

My background is in journalism and documentary filmmaking, and over the years I’ve built a practice that focuses on capturing people’s stories – the ones they’re living, the ones they’re building, and the ones they want to leave behind. I create legacy films for families and individuals, founder videos for entrepreneurs who want their work expressed with depth and authenticity, and I also offer ceremony-based sessions and end-of-life storytelling for those navigating transitions.

The problems I solve are simple but deeply human: people want to be seen, understood, and remembered. Entrepreneurs want their mission captured with soul. Families want to preserve the wisdom, humor, and history of someone they love. My work gives them something tangible, heartfelt, and lasting.

What sets me apart is the way I approach each project – with presence, ceremony, and reverence for the human experience.

I’m most proud of the moments when clients watch their films and say, ‘That feels like me.’ Or when a family tells me the film brought healing, connection, or closure. That’s what I want people to know about my work: it’s cinematic, personal, and created with care. It lives at the intersection of storytelling, legacy, and the sacredness of being human.

Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?

I feel like my life has been a series of pivots – where I’ve had to completely restart, reshape myself, or rebuild from the ground up. I’ve moved states, lived out of an RV, grieved the ending of long term relationships, navigated the loss of a pregnancy, and reimagined my career more than once. Each pivot taught me resilience, intuition, and the truth that we’re allowed to begin again.

Professionally, I spent over 15 years as a freelance videographer and editor, working with big companies, brands, and entrepreneurs. It was steady, successful work, but eventually I realized I was craving something deeper. The biggest pivot in my career was choosing to shift from traditional commercial filmmaking into legacy work, ceremony, and end-of-life storytelling.

That transition came from listening closely: to my clients, to life, and to my own inner compass. The projects that felt the most meaningful were always the ones rooted in human connection, story, and presence. So I let my business evolve in that direction, even though it meant redefining my client base.

Those pivots – both personal and professional – are the reason The Threshold Studio exists today. They taught me that change isn’t just inevitable; it’s often the doorway into your most authentic work.

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

A lesson I had to unlearn was the illusion of control – especially in the face of death, loss, and life transitions. My work as an end-of-life doula and legacy storyteller continually shows me that we don’t get to choreograph every moment. Life is tender, unpredictable, and always changing.

When I experienced my own loss, that truth landed even deeper. I had to unlearn the belief that I could avoid grief or “do it right.” Instead, I learned how to let life move through me, how to soften into the unknown, and how to trust the intelligence of the process.

This shaped how I facilitate: with surrender, compassion, and an understanding that transformation doesn’t come from control – it comes from presence. I hope this is felt in every space I get to hold and in the work I do with people.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.thethresholdstudio.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/krisvangenderen/
• Facebook: https://Facebook.com/kristen.vangenderen
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/kristen-van-genderen-b590051a
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@krisvangenderen
• Other: My Yoga Mantras on Spotify (1 min loopable mantras): https://open.spotify.com/artist/5f4D31BWylmSRphsaO3ULQ?si=Jgd4rmBhSz2DfiDh6vZT8Q

Image Credits

Laura Penner : https://www.livingpotentialphotography.com