Crossing the Line: What It Really Takes to Get the Shot
There are two kinds of wedding photographers:
The ones who stay back. Who zoom in from a distance. Who float around the edges of the day, careful not to interfere.
And then there are the ones who move in. Who crouch beside the aisle. Who circle the couple like a filmmaker. Who get close.
I’ve been both.
The Ceremony is Where the Line Gets Drawn
For most of the day, being an active photographer doesn’t raise eyebrows. People expect a bit of direction during portraits. They like when someone rallies the family for group photos.
But once the ceremony starts? That’s where things shift. That’s where your movement becomes a statement. Where people start to notice. And judge.
I’ve crossed the line. Probably at almost every wedding.
And I don’t mean figuratively. I mean I’ve stepped closer when I wasn’t supposed to. I’ve moved behind the couple when all eyes were meant to be on them. I’ve done the thing some planners or officiants specifically asked me not to do.
Not to be disrespectful.
But because I saw the shot.
Because I knew it was the moment.
Because I wanted to make sure that when my couple looked back at their photos, they didn’t just see what the day looked like — they felt it.
The Catholic Ceremony
Early in my career, I photographed a traditional Catholic wedding. The priest was clear: no photography during the sacred parts of the ceremony.
I understood. I agreed. But when the moment came, I moved.
I crouched behind a pew, long lens in hand, doing everything I could to stay low, quiet, respectful.
And then — mid-ceremony, in front of a full church — the priest pointed at me and said:
“That photographer has no soul.”
He may have said other things. But that’s the line that stuck.
It hit me hard. I didn’t take another photo for the rest of the ceremony. And I carried that moment for years.
But I still believe I did the right thing.
Because that moment mattered. That photo mattered. And if I hadn’t taken the shot, I would’ve failed the couple who trusted me to tell their story.
The Officiant Who Noticed the Quiet Drop-Off
I was chatting with an officiant I’d worked with a few times over the years. Out of nowhere, he brought this up:
“There used to be this photographer who always got too close. I don’t see him around much anymore.”
He didn’t say it with malice. Just… observation.
But the way he said it? It sounded like there’d been conversations — that some planners or venues or maybe even couples had quietly decided: “That guy’s too much.”
And I couldn’t help but wonder if he was talking about me.
Here’s the thing: I do get close. I do move when it matters. I’m not reckless, but I’m not passive either. I believe the most honest photos come from being in the moment — even if it means I step into someone’s line of sight.
The photos are better. But not everyone wants better.
Some people want quiet. Clean. Invisible.
I’ve wrestled with that ever since.
The Down With Webster Show
Years ago, I was hired to photograph a Down With Webster concert. I didn’t hang back. I got in it. Crawled around amps. Climbed over barriers. Shot from the stage.
The photos? They were explosive. Full of energy. Some of the best live music shots I’ve ever taken.
But the next year, the event planner told me, “Yeah, maybe don’t bring that guy back. He was too close.”
And I was like — yeah. That was me.
Would I do it differently? Nope. I’d do it again. Because those photos were electric. They were felt.
And that’s the same energy I bring to weddings.
What Happens When You Play It Safe
The irony is, as I got older, I did start to play it safe.
I stood back more. Stayed out of the way. Zoomed instead of moved. I wanted to be liked. Wanted to get rehired. Wanted to make it easy.
But when I look at the work from those years — it feels… fine.
Clean. Polished. Predictable.
Not bad. Just not alive.
The Line I Walk Now
So where does that leave me?
I’m 28 years in. I still love this work. I still want to get hired. But I also know this:
The best photos live on the edge of the moment.
And if I have to choose between being liked and capturing something unforgettable?
I’ll choose the shot.
If You’re a Couple Reading This
Here’s what I want you to know:
You deserve photos that go deeper than pretty. That feel like you. That capture the truth of your wedding day.
And that only happens when you trust your photographer to step in when it matters.
So yes, I’ll be respectful. I’ll communicate. I’ll ask what matters to you and what shouldn’t be disrupted.
But I might also step in.
And it might piss someone off.
But the photos? They’ll be worth it.
Want to talk about the kind of wedding photography that actually moves you?
Let’s have that conversation. Get in touch here.
