Editorial vs Reportage Style Wedding Photography and why you can have both…
One of the things that makes wedding photography so fulfilling as a career is that it requires so much of me. It’s not enough just to make a great picture. I have to a be a master of reportage, photojournalistic style moments, still life & detail, well-lit and composed portraits, not to mention perfecting the art of the group portrait (but here again the level of difficulty is raised to the extreme, it’s not one group photo perfectly composed and lit, but twenty, shot in quick succession). Everything is moving so quickly, including the light which tends to shift with every scene.
It took time to develop my skills and not all of them were photographic in nature. When I was younger and more exquisitely shy, I was content to sit back and watch the day unfold around me like a movie. I rarely wanted to interject myself. I liked to watch my couples, especially their gestures and body language. I would direct as quietly and simply as I possible. Wall-flower-esque, clad in all black, I would slip between guests doing my best to disappear entirely, to become merely a set of eyes, a ninja wielding a camera instead of a sword. Directing the formal portraiture was quietly, intensely humbling. I promised my couples that once the portraits were over the schedule would be down hill. It occurs to me now, it was myself that needed reassurance. I would photograph all day in a frenzy, and then later, at home where I had more time to think, I would edit everything down, slowly watching the story coalesce.
Slowly but surely, as my experience increased, my insecurities dropped away. I honed my photographic muscles until I didn’t have to overthink my choice of where to stand to get the best perspective, or what to say to get an awkward feeling groom to feel at ease. My yoga practice spilled over into my wedding practice. I started setting aside an hour before each wedding to meditate. I would repeat a mantra over and over again, “Spirit, move me in the direction of the bride and groom today. Move my feet, move my body, move my heart, move my mind.” It was an experiment in surrender. I gave myself over to the flow, and, trusting that the experience was part of the fabric of my being now, I let my intuition lead the way. Miracles followed. I began to find myself exactly where I was needed at the exact perfect moment, and my brain, previously awash with questions and doubts became blessedly quiet. I began to write the story of the day more clearly, and in present time.
As my focus became sharper and quicker, what began to fill in the silence were ideas. I became less of a silent observer and more of an editorial storyteller with a clear point of view: What if I tell the story from this angle? What if this part of the day is seen through the guests’ eyes? What if we shoot on this side of the room where the light is so magical? What would happen if you went and stood in front of those columns and danced for me? Maybe I could slow the traffic down behind you so it looks like you’re frozen in time? Let’s wait for a yellow cab to pass behind you to capture the ambiance of the city.
My meditations grew beyond the mantras. In the days leading up to each wedding, instead of fretting over the schedule and portraits lists, I began to daydream about the couple and the venue. I let ideas float in around in my consciousness, envisioning how the day might unfold. Sometimes I’m lucky enough to walk the grounds of the venue in person, often I find myself walking in my imagination, feeling into what’s coming.
I grew into the roll of director of grand cinematic moments when called for while easily donning my documentary, ninja mask in the quieter moments. What results is a weave, a dance between editorial and reportage styles of photography, woven out of my many years of experience and your love, then channeled via an ever mysterious alchemy through my lens.
