Today we’d like to introduce you to Jeremy Ives.
Hi Jeremy, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
My path into photography wasn’t linear — it was intentional. I spent years in corporate environments, building skills in communication, project management, and visual thinking, but always feeling like I was working toward something rather than in something. About five years ago, I made the decision to leave that world behind and build Jiveshot Media into my primary focus. What started as a second business became my life’s work.
The real catalyst was fatherhood. I wanted my son to watch me pursue something I loved with everything I had — not just talk about passion, but model it. That decision changed everything.
From there, Jiveshot grew into a boutique visual production studio based in Washington, DC, with work spanning corporate photography, editorial and event coverage, cultural documentation, and fine art. Over time I’ve had the privilege of working with clients like Apple, Spotify, HBO, Bloomberg, the Smithsonian, the Obama Foundation, and the International African American Museum. I also hold visual creative director roles with Excel Golf, The Spring Aesthetic, and Marissa Sams Events, and lead an enterprise headshot partnership with Gittings Global covering more than 700 law firms nationwide.
What I’m most proud of isn’t any single client — it’s the range. The ability to move credibly between boardrooms and cultural institutions, between editorial moments and fine art. I’ve built a practice that reflects who I am in full, and that’s something I don’t take lightly.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Smooth? Not even close.
I left my corporate job on May 3rd, 2020 — three days before the pandemic was officially declared. I had just made one of the biggest leaps of my life, and almost immediately, the entire industry I’d stepped into went dark. Every single client cancelled. Every booking, every conversation, every opportunity I had been building toward — gone. In my very first year as a full-time photographer, there was nothing to photograph.
I won’t sugarcoat it. I was devastated. The timing felt cruel. I had taken a calculated risk, and the world had other plans.
But I stayed in it. I kept building, kept refining my craft, kept showing up — even when there was nowhere to show up to. And when the world reopened, I was ready.
Today, I’m earning more than I did in my best corporate year. I’m working with clients I respect, in spaces that matter, doing something I’m genuinely engaged and passionate about every single day. Looking back, I think the pandemic — as brutal as it was — stripped away every excuse and forced me to decide, once and for all, whether I really believed in this. I did. I do.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I think there’s an important distinction between the business of photography that I do and the art of photography that I do — and both matter deeply to me.
Rick Rubin once asked: “Are you expressing yourself in service of the art, or in service of commerce?” I’ve thought about that question a lot. My answer is that the art always comes first — and I’ve found that when you get that right, the commerce follows. Rubin said it himself: “If you get the art right, the commerce side of it works itself out.” That’s not just a philosophy for me. It’s been my lived experience.
Over the last couple of years, that approach has opened doors I couldn’t have scripted. I’ve worked with Shaq, Eve, Charlamagne Tha God, Aliko Dangote, Bloomberg, Marissa Sams Events, The Africa House, the International African American Museum, the State of South Carolina, Arienspace, and the list genuinely keeps growing. What I find meaningful about that roster isn’t just the names — it’s the range. Corporate power, cultural icons, institutional history, entertainment. That breadth only happens when your work speaks for itself.
On the art side, my work is rooted in humanity — what connects us, what defines us, what we deserve to see of ourselves. My No Middle project explores those questions through portraiture. I’ve shot work that champions Black women, including projects that live as cinematic, movie poster-style imagery. And the way I document my community — with intention, with joy, with love — is something I hope carries weight for years to come.
Two moments from this past year stand out. First, having Manifest DC select twelve of my prints to style their space. Knowing that premier venue chose those stories — images of Black and Brown people shown in their full beauty — and that people walk past them every single day… that means everything to me. Second, being credentialed at the Ryder Cup and having photographs from that experience permanently housed at Bethpage Black as part of golf history. That’s a legacy moment.
Ultimately, what sets me apart is that the art was never separate from the work. It is the work.
How do you think about luck?
I’d reframe the question slightly — I don’t really believe in luck. I believe in God. Every blessing in my life, every door that has opened, every opportunity that has manifested — I don’t credit chance with any of it. There’s been an order and an ordination to my path that goes beyond coincidence.
That said, if I’m being honest, the pandemic — the hardest season of my professional life — turned out to be one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received. When everything stopped and the business dried up completely, I was forced to stop chasing work and start deepening my craft. For the first time, I had the space to dive into the art of my business rather than the business of my business. I sharpened my eye. I built skills I wouldn’t have built under the pressure of a full calendar. I asked bigger questions about what I actually wanted my work to say.
And when the world reopened, I wasn’t just ready — I was different. Better. The foundation I built in that stillness is what allowed me to eventually sustain, build, and scale everything that came after.
What looked like the worst timing of my life turned out to be exactly the right timing. I don’t think that was luck. I think that was grace.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://jiveshot.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jive.shot/
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jjives
