The Secret Life of Weddings: Part One

I’ve set out to be a photojournalist even in the wedding world. Bride and grooms in search of something different, nontraditional, a poignant and intimate view of the day are the best match for me. Though my career as a wedding photographer has been somewhat brief, the hours long, the editing tedious and never ending, I find such beautiful stories in them all. And if I feel I’ve captured the essence of a family, of a couple, the unexpected, the laughable mistakes, the joy, then I have accomplished merging photojournalism into this field. This isn’t a new skill or field, but to accomplish the essence of people in several brief hours is a great feat. And though I find the work often exhausting, the images of life that come to be are worth it all. 

Below are some of my favorites from a wedding in May at Ashley Hall:

 

Touch

Life Update

I’ve been absent for several weeks mostly due to moving, coming down with bronchitis, photography gigs, and work. So, here’s a succinct update about a hodgepodge of my recent life happenings.

I live in a studio apartment in Downtown Charleston since late April. It’s tiny, either too hot or cold, sometimes it’s noisy like a college dorm with late night drunkards, and I love having my own place, my own space. At first, I wasn’t sure living alone was good for me. Such great silence when I came home in the evenings, but now I’m remembering the peace that can come with quiet. It helps to rejuvenate me. 

In the month I’ve lived there, I haven’t taken my microwave out from the box nor have I cooked in the apartment. My fire alarm has gone off at least five times, obviously not from cooking smoke. It’s been from the steam from my showers. I have approximately ten minutes of shower time before the steam gets so hot that the fire alarm will start blaring and then find myself dripping wet, naked, waving a towel beneath the alarm so it will cease. Actually, the shower is the worst part of the apartment. It’s like stepping into a white squall, the water pressure so intense that it creates its own wind current and I’m finding myself batting away the wind blown shower curtain while trying to shampoo, wash, and shave all while trying to remember the minutes remaining before the fire alarm starts sounding. When I get out of the shower, drops of water are streaming down the walls, even beading up on the ceiling. I have yet to change out the head because I’m lazy, I’m too short to reach it for a long enough period of time to switch it out, and it’s such an old place that I’m not sure all shower heads will fit. But I dread the daily skin exfoliations; so, I admit a shower gets skipped on occasion…like once a week. Gross, I know. 

Also within this last month, I’ve photographed two weddings (in the same weekend!) that had me in emotional knots. The first one was blessed with beautiful weather and people, but problems came with the second shooter and extended family. Never have I experienced thirty people sit down to watch traditional bridal party and family portraits, let alone all want a picture with the bride, let alone direct people in the photos, all while I’m standing on a 5ft ladder sweating from the heat and humidity. In the end, the bride and groom got so overwhelmed and tired that they didn’t want more than a few shots of themselves together, which disappointed me because I had some creative ideas I had wanted to pursue. My second shooter did a pretty good job…I’d consider upping it to ‘great’ once I see her images. But the hiccups came nonetheless. She called a bit flushed to tell me that she had confused a groomsman for the groom and had taken most of the pictures of the wrong man and I just did my best to keep my composure and facial reaction under control since I was with the bride. Immediately, I told her to switch, take pictures of the bride getting ready and I’d do what I could since it was twenty minutes until ceremony time. I got a bit irked when she didn’t comply with some of my groomsmen portrait ideas, instead opting for what she knew/liked, but what I also felt were too traditional for the photography I do. The other time came when there was confusion about where we’d each be during the ceremony. She ended up coming to a spot that I told her I’d be, and got what I’d consider the best spot for ceremony images. A close friend gently chastised me for my lack of assertiveness with someone I was paying, and said in the future, I need to make it abundantly clear that I’m paying them and if I make a ’suggestion’ it’s a nice way of saying do as I say and going over the tentative schedule and ideas more. I know things go wrong, but I had blatantly told her the groom’s name (and why she wouldn’t ask if unsure, I don’t know) and told her the two locations she would be at during the ceremony and where I’d be. I just remember when she said she thought the wrong guy was the groom because he was around her a lot, I just said, “Why would the groom be around you unless you were a stripper the night before?” Obviously, the groomsman thought she was hot and was flirting, which was exactly the case.

The next day, the wedding was held in a gazebo in the pouring rain at a park in Spartanburg. Instead of moving the ceremony indoors, all the chairs were moved under the gazebo since it was a small number of guests. Well, that left no moving room for a photographer or at least for one who cares about the shots to get. So, I stayed outside the gazebo the entire time snapping images in the rain wondering where my friend was who had both the umbrella and towels. It surely didn’t help my recovery from bronchitis any. 

I also learned I had several images published in the April 2009 issue of Charleston Magazine. It was an article on Jazz Artists of Charleston and their upcoming series at Mistral. However, I found this out in May and cannot find the issue anywhere. I emailed the magazine asking about purchasing an archive issue, but was told they actually completely sold out of April’s issue. So, if anyone comes across one or willing to part with their own, let me know. I’d greatly appreciate it since it’s my first publication in a magazine. 

I’m also cited in this month’s issue of Indie Slate (issue 57), a magazine about Indie films. I took some images on the set of Twin Geeks, an indie film in Charleston that is now in post production; so, the director was nice enough to cite me in his paragraph for the magazine. 

Currently, I’m one of three photographers photographing JAC’s Jazz series at Mistral. Each night, a band plays two sets, and the series has been nothing short of awesome for me. I always tell people how much I enjoy photographing JAC gigs because I don’t just get paid to take pictures; it’s like having a backstage pass and a free show. So, I’m doing what I love and get to enjoy some great music.

My strategy for this series has been a bit different. Mistral is a restaurant in the Market with a cozy upstairs. So, between the space taken up by instruments and band members along with the audience, it’s a snug fit. The first night was a bit awkward for me because I didn’t want to be obnoxious or or others’ way, but I found my method for the space. I have several sweet spots I try to get to during the set, and usually spend an entire song focused on one member. I have to be a quick study of each person in the band, learn how they move, at what moments in melodic movement they become engrossed in the music, because that’s when it shows in their movement and facial expressions. The challenge is if there is a piano player because he’s tucked back considerably more than the others. But after I’ve focused on each member, I then work on group shots, some possibly kooky shots that may or may not work out, and if there’s still more time, then I just get some more images of the most expressive members. The quick seconds between songs, I try to snap the audience clapping, laughing, smiling, and then stick around for about ten minutes after the set is over to get any candid shots of the band and the audience members’ conversations/interactions with each other or the musicians. Then I pack up my camera, sling on my pack, and head home to download, edit out the bad images (because currently I’m still editing weddings; so, the gigs will have to wait), and backing up the remaining images on a disc. 

So…that’s been my life for the past several weeks. I’ve been out of contact, out of touch, with a good many people, but it’s not evasion. I have no internet or cable at the apartment and I’ve been busy. Let me remind everyone I have a full time cubicle job; so, between that, photographing, and editing, I don’t have much time right now for casual chit chat or hanging out. Please, don’t take offense, it’s just how it’ll be for at least several more weeks. Once it slows down, I’m hoping to finally buy some groceries, put together the bookcase, and perhaps take the microwave out of the box.

Photograph of the Week

 

After working 40hrs in 3 1/2 days, I left work early on Thursday. Clouds and rain plagued Charleston all day, remnants of the deluge in downtown Charleston. I never recommend driving and photographing at the same time, but I am a repeat offender, my camera my passenger, waiting for a hand to grab it up and take a quick shot before the car behind honks or the light turns green. Raindrops on my window. I rolled it down just for you, let the rain come in, it is just water.

Herstory

I’ll keep this brief…go vote.  

Ok, I should elaborate more. There’s a photography contest called Name Your Dream Assignment, which seems to be legit. And the award is more than any photographer could ask for, $50,000 to pursue your dream project. The top 20 with the most votes will go on to a final judging by professionals, where the winner will be chosen. No matter who is awarded the prize in the end, I hope the images captured and the journey trekked will be a compelling visual narrative for all communities. Below is the link to my idea, but I also suggest perusing others as you can vote for multiple people (just not more than once for the same idea). 

Herstory

Rule Number One: Always Bring the Camera

I decided to be stingy. Fifteen dollars to check one piece of luggage; screw you Air Tran. But I couldn’t manage to carry two laptops and my camera into one carry on bag and one (grande sized) personal item. So, I begrudgingly chose to bring my new laptop instead of my camera, thinking at least I could surf the net in the airports or play games. And the end result is a series of visual experiences left to impermanence and my mac’s undefeated record against me in chess. 

It began with the flight from Atlanta to Houston. A thick fog had descended upon the Texas town early in the morning, causing the airport to shutdown. No flights in or out. The pilot informed us that we’d detour to Austin to fuel up and hope Houston would reopen, but at the last minute, 50 miles shy of Hobby Airport, landing was permitted. And as the plane began its descent, it was like seeing cloud city. Skyscrapers floated on clouds, everything beneath unseen but the rolling hills of white. Soft silhouettes formed large figures walking towards this sky cityscape, creatures with low swinging arms, a giraffe, leaping lion, how the clouds mold their world like clay. I silently cursed myself, counting the first image I should have captured if I had taken my camera. When will I learn?

The second laptop is my old one, being given to my sister and her family to use. And not even a day in, the monitor suddenly goes black, processes an image once every dozen tries. In the 6 years I’ve had this laptop, this has never happened. Sad little pout faces from a niece and nephew, and I cannot figure out how to fix it. After a google search, I hope it is the inverter unit or back light bulb, hopefully low cost fixes. Seventy dollars later and it is in the hands of the Geek Squad for a complete diagnosis. If it’s more than a hundred dollar fix, I told my sister to sell it on Craigslist, hopefully to a computer geek looking for a quick fixer upper. 

The next series of images should have been captured at my eldest nephew’s baseball game Friday night. Originally, my sister said the games kept being cancelled; so, I figured, it’ll likely be the case that night. Of course not. So, I sat there watching my nephew bat, running and stealing bases, playing center field, all wishing I had my telephoto and tripod. It was the first game of his I’ve ever seen, and he’s sixteen. And after seeing the website of the current children’s sports photographer in the area, I was even more pissed at myself, knowing my images would be better (yes, that’s ego poking through). 

This is another lesson learned. I hate mourning the images I didn’t capture, all because I wanted to save $30 in check luggage, what a selfish twit I’ve become. My SLR is heavy, it takes up space, and I usually don’t have it with me 80% of the time unless there’s an event I’m attending or a planned shoot. This is a poor habit, and if I can’t have it with me, then I should have a smaller camera purse sized friendly to always have with me. I should know better, one never knows where a moment will be worth snapping. After a year, a camera should be like another appendage, an extension of my hands and fingers, it should be a part of me like every other limb. 

On a different note, I’ve spent the last hour looking through the work of photojournalists across the world. Specifically, the Women in Photojournalism website. Just the week, I was elated to have placed first in the People category of the Charleston City Paper’s annual photo contest, even more excited when I learned one of my images was also the cover. But I don’t like to stay on this cloud nine of ego and pride for long. I like to remind myself how far I have yet to come, how much progress there still is to make, and it is through seeing hundreds of images, so emotive and poignant, satiated with life’s beauty whether it is manifested tragically or wonderfully. And I think this is the path I need to head down, the one that I feel calling me, now I just need to pursue it with a determination I have invested in less important things over this past year. I have turned my back on Bangladesh for this reason and more. I have found what compels and moves me, and I can no longer compromise it for things that bring me no closer to attaining this goal.

Insider vs Outsider

In Religious Studies, fieldwork is an expected practice, and when introduced to approaching fieldwork, it is quickly taught the potential dilemma that will arise: Insider vs Outsider. 

Insider is the person or group being studied. The outsider is the scholar. Being an outsider causes limitations both needed and impeding when conducting fieldwork. As an outsider, one automatically has a different understanding of anything seen or spoken by the group because that scholar comes in with personal biases, constructs from his or her society, and sometimes, paradigms of the academic world that only permit certain interpretations or theories to be published or accepted in the mainstream. The easiest example would be when Catholic priests would go into indigenous tribes around the world. They interpreted that group’s rituals through the scope of understanding within Christian teachings and beliefs. Therefore, a ritual to a particular deity would likely be interpreted as heretical, demonic, and so on because the point-of-view of the priest was constructed by different societal structures and religious beliefs. However, the ‘outsider’ status is necessity because it maintains enough metaphorical distance that the scholar can still analyze and critique the group’s beliefs and practices. (Note: critique isn’t meant in the negative sense)

But, this still creates a predicament. An outsider will remain too distant, too ignorant of the group’s practices, if there isn’t some stepping over into ‘insider’ domain. To know the language and comprehend through the contextual meaning the people do, to live with the people, to not only witness ritual but perhaps participate in it and all the while, attempting to suspend enough of one’s own beliefs long enough to make the leap to understand someone different. But this too can be problematic because where does a scholar draw the line between insider and outsider? When does too much of one or the other corrupt or jeopardize the research? And there really doesn’t seem to be a conclusive answer.

I’m bringing this up because I’m facing the same ‘Insider vs Outsider’ dilemma in my photography. Perhaps not to the same extent. But today served as an example of how I teeter on that border, never wanting to fully commit to one or the other. I attended a candlelight vigil to commemorate 50 years of Tibetans’ plight, to remember those tortured and murdered, to vocalize the atrocities committed by China, to ask with our hearts for peace. Immediately, I stand out with my camera not being the tiny point-and-shoot. I always explain I’m a freelance photographer because I’m not hired on with any publication nor do my images ever get published unless an image from an event is needed and it just happens no other photographer working for a publication went (I usually leave this part out). But I notice the skepticism that comes as well; I’m not necessarily trusted. And anyone has reason to be skeptical, and after all, I prefer people practice good hermeneutics even if it revolves around me. 

Personally, before going into an event, I determine an ethical or etiquette code to follow, with allowable adjustments depending on how things unfold. When it comes to religious events, I’m especially cautious. I refrain from photographing during prayers, moments of silence, and usually will consult someone about any particular restrictions I may not be aware of. An example is when I photographed a Native American Pow Wow, there’s no photography permitted during the opening ceremony and dance, and I would not have known had I not talked with the organizers; so, though I usually advocate “do and ask forgiveness later,” I don’t in the case of religious and spiritual events because if bonds of trust are so quickly tainted, that group will never want me to attend another event nor will I meet people who can help connect me deeper into that world.

As the event began, people circled around a small table with candles and an area with a mic where several speakers stood nearby. I stayed to the sidelines with the group, but maintained a front position. The crowd was small, an intimate gathering, so I decided to choose a spot wisely based on the setup and not move too much, perhaps only kneeling or small shifts to the side because I didn’t want to distract. When they prayed, I put down my camera, when there was a ten minute moment of silence, my camera was off; when they handed out candles after the opening speeches, I took one and did my best to not let my flame die (it did twice, eek). My behavior leaned a bit more towards the ‘insider,’ but due to respect, my background in Religious Studies, and my personal history and interactions with those in Dharamsala. 

There was another photographer there, obviously professional with his long lens and hood cover, which it was overcast so I wasn’t sure why he even bothered with a hood cover, but I digress. He moved around constantly. He didn’t take a candle and actually stepped away for several minutes during the moment of silence. And all this isn’t really that bad, but what did irk me was during the group prayers, he walked into the middle of the circle on several occasions to photograph the table of candles. And I’m just sort of looking at him, wondering if he realizes how obnoxious he’s being by stepping into the empty center enveloped by a crowd and getting right in front of the speakers while they’re reciting prayers aloud? It was just sort of tacky. Tacky because that was a particular image he could have gotten at another time. It’s a shot that requires a closeup, macro frame, but it wasn’t the type of image I’d even consider being obnoxious for. When people started accepting candles, I stood to the side to photograph the more ‘intimate’ images I wanted, but I didn’t push people aside or interrupt a poignant moment. He was a complete ‘outsider,’ perceiving the situation from a standpoint of photographer only. What shots do I need? When the opportunity comes to get those shots, take it. Find different angles. And so on. 

I understand his thought process as a photographer. But I also understood the purpose of the event, the type of gathering it was, and indeed, I sacrificed some good shots because of my choice to behave a certain way. 

In my short time as a photographer, I’ve learned two things very quickly. The first, a lot of people say they’re a photographer. I have never met so many photographers in my life until I became one. Seriously. And the second involves photographers’ etiquette. Many people I meet who aren’t photographers usually have a story about an obnoxious photographer they’ve encountered whether it’s been at an event, a friend’s wedding, their own wedding, etc. I’ve taken those stories a bit to heart, knowing I don’t want to be that type of photographer. The more that I can make myself ‘unseen’ though clearly visible, the better. And that ability to be ‘unseen’ in plain sight is possible when many variables are weighed and varying strategies and techniques are used to make me insignificant in a person’s or group’s awareness within that moment. And in truth, I find that to be the key in capturing a moment. It doesn’t always work out like I want, and I don’t always get the photographs I want, but this method has given me enough good/great images that I consider it effective.

So, the dilemma of ‘Insider vs Outsider’ now finds itself in my photographic ventures. I keep wondering when Religious Studies will stop popping up in each facet of my life, but it is a steadfast thing. Granted, one could say my personal scope is merely biased based on the constructs of my field of study…and I couldn’t say that’d be wrong.

International Women’s Day

 I believe this is the first year of organized events in Charleston to celebrate International Women’s Day, and I’m excited to say I get to be a part of it. This Sunday, at the Circular Congregational Church, there will be an afternoon filled with art, lectures, singing, and much more. All of which is by the efforts and creative minds of an eclectic group of women, whose lineages span the globe, and whose lives are enriched with experience and unique perspective. 

On display will be several images from my series The Elements: Earth. Six women covered in potting soil, personifying a complex element that in its own existence has mimicked that of women’s history or vice versa. The Womb to much of life, violated due to greed and lust for power, raped of its resources, yet survives and forever changes, never letting us forget its strength and plight. 

Two other photographers will also be displaying work: Stacy Pearsall, well known for her military photography, and Mikayla Mackaness, a photojournalist and light seeker whose images are pungently emotive and imbued with Life. The latter, is a great friend and teacher, who without which I may not have ever trekked down the photographic journey that began just over a year ago. 

A detail of the afternoon’s events can be found at the blog for Project Speak Up. The organizers are Leah Suarez and Alice Keeney, both talented artists and extraordinary activists of art, cultures, communities, and women. And as a last ’shout out,’ the events are also in coordination with the College of Charleston’s Women and Gender Studies Program (which happens to be what I minored in at CofC and is an awesome program!).  

I hope everyone can come enjoy the art, music, and great conversations. Oh, but no boys allowed…just kidding.

Photograph of the Week

 

 

This is purely accidental. Take a friend, beautiful yet insecure, with a dash of confusion and the product is an awkward lovely. I found a lot filled with leaves, trees, and a rustic, forgotten wood fence held up only by tree limbs and overgrown bush. A prom dress reminiscent of 80s nostalgia with it’s mesh underlay and lace sleeves. A five dollar find at a Goodwill, quite hideous to the eye in person, but I knew the beauty it could have in a photo. With pink pumps and a New Orleans masquerade mask, I thought it could be good compliments in a photo. No reason beyond that. My mind envisioned that it could be aesthetically pleasing, though perhaps an odd coupling. And though this was the most odd pose, I believe her first since she was unsure of her body, it has become my favorite.

Photograph of the Week

A gift. Beads from around the world, acquired through a friend’s journey. The world on a string, intertwined like kin. Unearthed from a tiny box, I smiled and said it’d be like prayer beads. 

Let me pray…