‘CityBook’ Remembers Photographer Jhane Hoang and Her Polished Portraits and Rich Fashion Spreads

Late photographer Jhane Hoang (center) and some of her subjects, including fashion models and musicians

WHEN JHANE HOANG died late last month after a quiet, private battle with cancer, Houston lost one of its most talented and exacting photographers — and my colleagues at CityBook and I lost a beloved contributor and friend.

Jhane, who was just 50 years old, was a Vietnamese American who, as I understood it, pumped the brakes on her career as a rising star in New York’s edgy, high-end creative set, to return home to Houston in recent years to be closer to ailing family members. This must’ve been a nod to the traditions and requirements of her culture, which was a poignant counterpoint to her progressive energy. She was a daring artist, and a cherished member of the city’s LGBTQ+ community.

When another friend and sometime collaborator, Rene Garza, suggested we throw in with Jhane and assign her some photos, we took the step cautiously; it’s kind of rare that such friend-of-a-friend referrals work out. But we were immediately taken with her skills and commitment to her artistic vision. The latter wasn’t always easy to navigate, honestly, and, on any given shoot, it wasn’t unusual for me to recede into a corner wondering, who’s in charge here?

With Jhane, the answer was never really her — or me, certainly — but the project itself. The creative goals, the rich and evocative images she saw in her mind’s eye before the shutter ever started to snap. And, in service to the dreams in her head, she spent hours upon hours adjusting lights, repositioning subjects, tweaking styling.

One shoot I well remember was for our annual Sexy Issue. Jhane and I took an entire crew and four models to the Four Seasons in New Orleans. Despite that we had limited time in which to shoot racks full of runway looks sent to us from major fashion houses, Jhane lingered meticulously over a setup involving shirtless models in blue jeans writhing in the grass. She (and the gracious models) persevered until Jhane got the shot — even through a thunderstorm that snuck up on us.

As much as I loved working with Jhane on such steamy shoots — and on other fashion spreads shot on locations such as the Houston Zoo and Museum of Natural Science — I think I was most impressed with her portraits of everyday folks. You could argue it’s easier to make a hot model with his shirt off look appealing than to make, say, a diminutive restaurateur or a late-career doctor come off as well. Which is why we often asked her to help with our “Leaders & Legends” and “Cool 100” collections.

Nobody could bring out the inner-sexy-model in a civilian like Jhane. It was partly her patience with and mastery of the technical demands of getting a great photo.

But it was mostly … just her. There was something she exuded that signaled that she was at once a badass, seriously artsy, cigarette-smoke-blowing fashion photographer with New York City cred, and a gentle sweetheart from H-Town who just wanted to vibe with you and make you look nice. And, if occasionally she made an editor push his print deadline as she pored over every nook and cranny of a picture in Photoshop, you just went along with it. Oh, that Jhane.

The second of Jhane’s memorial services is taking place this week, and I’m told there will be a retrospective of her work. My colleague Patrick Magee, former CityBook creative director, who worked more closely with her and her images than anyone, has gathered up some of his favorites here.

Godspeed, Jhane Hoang. Thank you for your rare depth as an artist and commitment as a friend. You are missed.