I received my BFA in photography from the University of Georgia. I’ll spare everyone from what-you-can’t-unsee, but here’s a hint: my student work orbited solely around gender studies/role reversal.
Since those care-free days of yesteryear I’ve made rather limited use of my vocation throughout my professional career–if only by occasional tertiary demands. These days I mostly take photos of my dogs, cocktails and food. (Otherwise known as “The Instagram Trifecta”.)
This Summer I attended my cousin’s daughter’s lovely wedding in New
Hampster Hampshire. Everyone had their cameras out jockeying for position alongside the hired professional. What a thankless job… the wedding photographer. Personally, I would never have the calm or patience to corral drunken groomsmen, fussy bride’s maids, rickety grandparents and fussy toddlers into one successive frame after another.
At a post-wedding get together everyone dumped their flash cards onto someone’s MacBook Pro. As the iPhoto slideshow progressed hearty applause and laughter filled the room–that is until my photos popped up. It was as if the crowd was suddenly being shown Fellini’s “Bicycle Thief”. It was so quiet you could hear the milk in the next-door neighbor’s refrigerator not quite getting ready to spoil, but thinking about it. At some point someone genuinely inquired if these were the photos their [eight year old] daughter took. Honestly, who takes a photo of a gift table with a forlorn chair with no people in the frame?
So, readers, I present to you a break down of my Fellini-esque wedding photos and why you would never want me to take photos at your wedding. And to my relatives, please understand this is all self-referential satire directed at my own awkwardness and inability to subvert my fucked-up artistic sensibilities.
This is Sophie meeting A GREAT BIG FUCKING GIANT DOG WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS THING. Nothing like taking your city dog to the wilds of the country to fuck with their heads. Thankfully the horses that drew this carriage were quite mellow and did not trample the dogs. This is one of the few non-weird photos I took.
This was an exclusive–I believe this is the first photo of the bride exiting the house en route to the wedding. This is also probably the last non-weird photo I took.
Commence weirdness. Nothing like documenting the food line. Not sure why I thought this was worth photographing. I do like the circle window of the tent that encapsulates the bride and groom.
To be fair, I did convert these to black and white. BECAUSE WEDDING PHOTOS ARE SUPPOSED TO LOOK BETTER IN BLACK AND WHITE.
I think it was Henri Cartier-Bresson who was the Godfather of “The Decisive Moment”. I, on the other hand, can easily claim the title of being the Godfather of “The Indecisive Moment”. This is essentially a picture OF NOTHING.
I sometimes wonder what’s wrong with me.
This was my favorite of all of the photos I took.
cutting the cake.
That’s it. Thanks to my lovely cousin Michelle and her family for a fantastic time and a beautiful ceremony. (And as always a bitchin’ after party.)