There’s no way, none, I’d ever agree to shoot a wedding… actually, I’d probably do it for an obscene amount of money, but then I’d just contract it out to some college students. But that’s it, there would be no other way of getting me involved in shooting a wedding.
My mother was a professional photographer, and weddings paid our rent for a few years, but I watched what she went through — crazy people, insane demands, intense pressure, people screaming, and that was just the initial phone call. I also have some friends who shoot these circuses, and I don’t know why — or how — they put up with people constantly on their back, telling them where and what to shoot.
The worst part is the desperate need to get everything right. I’ve gone on critical photo assignments for newspapers before, and come back with nothing because I completely forgot to load the camera. Once. That wasn’t a regular thing.
The level of perfection needed to shoot a wedding is just a level of stress that I’m sure would kill me. And I’d probably take most of the wedding party with me, so that wouldn’t be good for anyone. Plus they’d lose the deposit.
So, anyway, my youngest brother got married on the weekend. If they had asked me to shoot the event, I would have laughed, but they got someone to do it. And the photographer they hired looked like she did a decent job, but I haven’t seen the proofs yet.
I did bring my camera, though. This shot is my new sister-in-law, her sisters and step-mother, gathering for the official photos.