Photographer...check
Four photographers in a week, and here's what it looked like:
Photographer #1 I'll call Janet. She wouldn't shut up about what she wanted to do with our wedding. Didn't ask us more than one or two perfunctory questions. We said the church had set aside an hour for photos before the wedding, and she just about had an aneurysm. "An hour?! That's not nearly enough. At LEAST 90 minutes." If we book her with her husband, a DJ, we get a good deal. Her husband was, as Joe might say, "Dan Dan the Dancin' Man." He more or less said that, regardless of our requests, he'd play exactly what he felt he needed to play to get folks movin' on the dance floor. My babe and I had a simultaneous nightmare involving the sounds of the Macarena played at our reception. Arrrgh. The photos, by the way, were all formulaic. Unsmiling brides saying: "I'm so untouchably beautiful." A strange repeated shot was the bride and groom at the head table looking back over their shoulders at the camera. It felt soulless.
Photographer #2 I'll call Doug. Nice guy. Policeman by day, photographer by night. We drove out to his place at the suburb of bufu Egypt. Rang the doorbell. His three year old daughter started running around the room. She climbed on the table and kicked closed the photo albums, spinning around on her butt. Her mom begrudgingly came to take the girl away. Then, while they played picnic, mom said to girl: "I'll only do this for about three more minutes." Nice, supportive spouse! I couldn't believe it. Three minutes later, the girl was hanging on Doug again, blocking his airway. Doug's pictures were good for a policeman, and I htink he was a nice guy, but I felt they simply weren't good photos. Not centered, heads cut off at the scalpline, etc. No way.
Photographer #3 was Raul. About 30% more expensive than Janet or Doug. Unlike the first two, he didn't talk...seemed to be a shy guy. Instead, he just showed us his pictures. Very few were the standard posed fare. There was one of a ring-bearer doing the splits at the reception. One of a buff bride stepping out of the limo in her lovely white dress...wielding a softball bat. I found myself uncontrollably smiling while looking at the photos. My baby was too. The weddings were very diverse...traditional and avant-garde, indoor and outdoor, Christian, Jewish, Hindu. And each felt different, unique, and beautiful.
Photographer #4 was Lou. We walked in to an entire wall of massive, huge, alienatingly gargantuan photos of prissy-brides-not-smiling. I asked him for reception photos to see if he had a sense of the spontaneous and the world outside the staged. He scrambled for about 15 minutes before finding any, and then he only found the raw, unedited stuff. (Is this that unusual a request?) Worst of all, he pronounced the word picture as "pitcher." I hate that. You'd think that a photographer, of all people, would see that there's a C in there, and know that it ain't silent.
Net result: fun nights, believe it or not. And we just sent Raul a check for more than we had budgeted...but he's so far ahead of the others that it's like a horse race with Secretariat...the person in second is closer to last than to first. We're thrilled with our choice.
Every single step makes me more excited...more "ohmiGAWDwe'regettingMARRIED."
Photographer #1 I'll call Janet. She wouldn't shut up about what she wanted to do with our wedding. Didn't ask us more than one or two perfunctory questions. We said the church had set aside an hour for photos before the wedding, and she just about had an aneurysm. "An hour?! That's not nearly enough. At LEAST 90 minutes." If we book her with her husband, a DJ, we get a good deal. Her husband was, as Joe might say, "Dan Dan the Dancin' Man." He more or less said that, regardless of our requests, he'd play exactly what he felt he needed to play to get folks movin' on the dance floor. My babe and I had a simultaneous nightmare involving the sounds of the Macarena played at our reception. Arrrgh. The photos, by the way, were all formulaic. Unsmiling brides saying: "I'm so untouchably beautiful." A strange repeated shot was the bride and groom at the head table looking back over their shoulders at the camera. It felt soulless.
Photographer #2 I'll call Doug. Nice guy. Policeman by day, photographer by night. We drove out to his place at the suburb of bufu Egypt. Rang the doorbell. His three year old daughter started running around the room. She climbed on the table and kicked closed the photo albums, spinning around on her butt. Her mom begrudgingly came to take the girl away. Then, while they played picnic, mom said to girl: "I'll only do this for about three more minutes." Nice, supportive spouse! I couldn't believe it. Three minutes later, the girl was hanging on Doug again, blocking his airway. Doug's pictures were good for a policeman, and I htink he was a nice guy, but I felt they simply weren't good photos. Not centered, heads cut off at the scalpline, etc. No way.
Photographer #3 was Raul. About 30% more expensive than Janet or Doug. Unlike the first two, he didn't talk...seemed to be a shy guy. Instead, he just showed us his pictures. Very few were the standard posed fare. There was one of a ring-bearer doing the splits at the reception. One of a buff bride stepping out of the limo in her lovely white dress...wielding a softball bat. I found myself uncontrollably smiling while looking at the photos. My baby was too. The weddings were very diverse...traditional and avant-garde, indoor and outdoor, Christian, Jewish, Hindu. And each felt different, unique, and beautiful.
Photographer #4 was Lou. We walked in to an entire wall of massive, huge, alienatingly gargantuan photos of prissy-brides-not-smiling. I asked him for reception photos to see if he had a sense of the spontaneous and the world outside the staged. He scrambled for about 15 minutes before finding any, and then he only found the raw, unedited stuff. (Is this that unusual a request?) Worst of all, he pronounced the word picture as "pitcher." I hate that. You'd think that a photographer, of all people, would see that there's a C in there, and know that it ain't silent.
Net result: fun nights, believe it or not. And we just sent Raul a check for more than we had budgeted...but he's so far ahead of the others that it's like a horse race with Secretariat...the person in second is closer to last than to first. We're thrilled with our choice.
Every single step makes me more excited...more "ohmiGAWDwe'regettingMARRIED."
posted by TeacherRefPoet at 8:32 PM
4 Comments:
You won't be sorry. If there is any place in the nuptual budget to go crazy on, it's the pix. After all, they're gonna be the only things you have left over. And that slice of cake you're gonna freeze for your first anniversary.
Regards,
tommyspoon
So, I took a look. What I like is that 1. all the people look like thier having fun and 2. he's paid attention to not just portraiture, but setting. People spend a lot of time and money on where they have thier weddings. They choose thier locations for important reasons, and to include so much sense of place in the pictures honors that.
But why'd you have to call photographer #1 "Janet"???
kaphine
Because when she met us, we shouted "SLUT!!!!!"
(chuckle) Like the Janet story.
Wanted to echo Mr. Spoon again - you will be looking at these pics for the rest of your lives. With any luck your grandchildren will show them to their children. Get the ones you love and spend a little less on, um, er, the ribbons on the floral arrangements used to decorate the first three pews.
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