The Documentary Photographer

Capturing Life on a Momentous Day

A guide to the art of documentary wedding photography – v. 1.0

Introduction

The most important photograph I ever took was of my dying sister in September 2007. In it, you see a frail woman in her late-30s. She looks so tired, so thin. She is smiling, but it hurts. Sitting beside her on the bed are her then five-year-old daughter and her husband, Howie. It is the last photograph of my sister alive.

Barely three days later, having just returned to my home on the other side of the world, I got a phone call from Howie. I think it was 3am. I don’t know. I was jet-lagged and my sense of time was all over the place. I knew it was him as soon as the phone rang, though. And I knew what he was going to say before the words “She’s gone” left his lips.

That moment shaped me as a person. It affected me deeply and drives most of my thinking still. It is the reason I’m a documentary photographer.

One thing I feel very strongly about is documentary wedding photography.

For most couples the overriding memory of their wedding day is of having their photograph taken, rather than of getting married. The photographer tells them where to stand, how to stand, how long to stand for and so on. They intervene, pause, organize and corral. They mold the occasion to their whims – directing the day for their needs, not the couple’s. The day becomes a day of photography, rather than a day of marriage celebration.

Documentary photography on the other hand – true documentary photography – preserves the day as it was meant to be: a wedding day. It respects the event and the couple. Documentary photographers recognize that this day will come only once in the history of the universe and that it is unique to this couple. It is their history. It should not be manipulated. Instead, it should be allowed to run its course without intervention, preserving the real actions of the couple, their family and their guests.

The pay-off is huge.

Many years after the wedding, the couple will look at the photographs and see what they did. They will see their lives play out and they will be reminded of themselves and their emotions. Their children will feel as if they were there. Most important of all, they will know that it is real. No direction, no posing, no false situations. They will be looking at their family history. How wonderful is that?

You can tell I get a bit excited when I talk about this stuff, can’t you?

Therein lies the reason for this article. Believing as I do that documentary wedding photography is so valuable, what better way to start my free content on the blog than by giving away all that I know about it? A guide to being a documentary wedding photographer if you will.

So, set out below is what I know about being one.

A word of warning. Everything I write here, I truly believe. It’s how I see things. That’s not to say that I’m the final word on the matter. Far from it. In fact, there are more authoritative voices out there, I know. So when you read this, understand that it is my opinion. My ego isn’t yet big enough for me to say that it is the definitive word on the subject. It is, though, big enough for me to consider it a reasonable start. A start I’d like to build on with your help. Please comment on what your read here. Let’s get a conversation going that will allow us to explore documentary wedding photography. In the meantime, I hope you find some useful information here.

Finally, this is the first of three articles on the art of documentary photography. Parts 2 and 3 will appear soon.

What Is Documentary Wedding Photography?

Not so long ago, I believed the phrase “documentary photography” was self-explanatory.

It is. To the right audience: other photographers. Most people, including my intended clients, aren’t other photographers, though.

The first suggestion that there was a problem came at one of my regular business development meetings. We’re talking bright, switched-on people here. There was a general feeling that the world “documentary” had too many connotations with hard-hitting factual television programmes. All grit, grime and social deprivation. Depressing stuff. Hardly the sort of thing that you’d associate with weddings.

That left me with the following choice: stick with the “documentary” label or find a better word.

I haven’t yet found a better word. In fact, I’m not sure there is one.

That in turn presents its own both a challenge and a marketing opportunity.  If I want to keep using “documentary”, it’ll need to be explained, and the explanation offers a chance to connect better with potential clients.

We all have a preconception of what “wedding photography” is. No further clarification needed. No questions asked. No conversation started.

But “documentary wedding photography”? That’s something you’ll have to explain. That’s a conversation starter. That invites people to engage with you.

So what is it then?

For me, it is wedding photography that preserves the integrity of the day. It records what happened without attempting to direct events in any way. I can’t stress that enough. No prompting anyone, no dialogue with anybody to engineer a picture. The result is a series of photographs that combined tell a factual story. The photographer removes themselves as much as possible from what is happening and simply captures it in pictures.

“Wedding photojournalism” is another way of putting it.

It’s very hard to do documentary wedding photography well. I mean spectacularly hard. But when you get it right, it is so, so rewarding. Both for the photographer and the clients.

If you’re a photographer interested in developing a documentary approach to your wedding work, you’ll hopefully find some useful information below.

Philosophy

For you to become an effective documentary wedding photographer you need to be a particular kind of person. You  need to believe in documentary photography – deeply. It needs to connect with a passion inside you. If you can align your photography with that force, you will have a potent mix. If you can’t, you’ll find yourself pushing against the grain. You won’t get the pleasure from your photography that you should, nor produce your best work. Most likely, you are destined for something else – another style of photography, or perhaps a career outside of photography altogether. Be honest with yourself. Is this what you want deep down? Is documentary photography your driving force?

For me, documentary photography is my life. It is a seamless fit with who I am. My sister’s death has affected me deeply. I see life as precious in a way I didn’t before. I see how important our shared moments are and I want to stop time so they are never lost.

The harsh reality of life is that we cannot stop the clock. Time is relentless. Yet documentary photography gives me a tool, albeit a feeble one, to halt time and capture forever fleeting moments that can tell us so much about the people in them. Who they were, what they were doing, what they felt. People are so important to other people. You are so important to other people. To capture something of their lives, your life, to pass on to future generations is something that moves me profoundly.

For me, it means having documentary photographs, though not nearly enough, of my sister while she was alive interacting with her daughter, her husband, her father, her mother. How valuable will those photographs be for my little niece later in life, when the memories of her mum have dimmed? I cry when I think about this. They will be priceless.

I believe everyone should have documentary photographs of their lives. If life is worth living, if people are worth loving, then they are most definitely worth photographing. For each one of us, there are many more who, when we are gone, will cherish photographs of our lives, of our history.

Empathy

You cannot be a good documentary wedding photographer without empathy. You need to feel a connection with the couple, or at least understand deeply the significance of the day for them and their family. That doesn’t mean you have to be married yourself. But it does mean that you have to have a thorough sense of the weight of the occasion.

Why? Because you are recording history. Your photographs are going to be among the most valued family possessions. When Dad is gone, those pictures you took 30 years before are going to mean the world to the bride. When her mum passes away, your photographs will offer comfort, and memories, and emotions that you cannot properly understand now without empathy.

You need to be able to project forward in the lives of the people you are photographing, and you need to understand at a very fundamental level the significance of what you are doing.

When you do, you will perform to your highest ability. You will work yourself harder than you would if you were just doing it as a job.

What we do is more than just a job. “Just a job” is for the guys who don’t care anymore and churn out the same posed photographs that they did at the last wedding, and the one before that, and the one before that.

Being a documentary wedding photographer brings with it huge responsibility. Couples are trusting that you will treat their day with the respect it deserves. They are trusting that you will record their history in a series of beautiful photographs – photographs that will contain story, meaning and emotion.

To do so properly, you need to connect with how they see the day. You need to feel the same way about their wedding day as they do. You need to empathize.

Attitude

Documentary wedding photography is not for the timid.

You need to be fit. Not Olympic fit, but fit enough to be able to keep your concentration levels up for as many as 12 consecutive hours.

You need to be confident. Documentary wedding photography can be a bit of a roller-coaster ride. You’re never sure what’s going to happen, how the light will be and (most nerve-racking of all) whether you’ll see a photograph before it happens, or react in time to something unexpected. You need the confidence to know that you will get the photographs you want for your clients. You need the confidence to know that if you do miss a great photograph (it happens to us all) that another will come along shortly and that you are going to nail it.

You also need to understand that you need to blend in. There are two aspects to this. One physical, the other mental.

To blend in physically, you must wear what the wedding guests are wearing. Mostly that will mean a nice suit, or a nice dress. If you’re a man and the male guests are wearing black tie, that’s what you need to wear. If they all have pink ties, you need to wear one too. If the wedding venue is a nudist colony, you’re in trouble.

It’s popular among a certain breed of photographer to turn up to a wedding in black combat fatigues. Don’t. Apart from looking ridiculous, you’ll stand out. Fine if you are going to be intervening on the day. Not good if you are a documentary photographer. Anything you can do to not be noticed, the better. Turning up ready for war won’t help you achieve that.

The mental aspect is connected to what you wear. If you are dressed like the guests, where are you least likely to be noticed?

Exactly: amidst all the guests. And that’s where you should be.

The temptation is to stand on the fringes with a medium telephoto lens and snap away. You are, though, going to be noticed. Once guests notice you they will change their behaviour. They may even feel quite uncomfortable at your presence on the side.

But stand right in among them, and you’ll be surprised at how quickly you are forgotten. Move as if you belong and photograph without reserve from close in. You’ll get spotted now and then, but being in the crowd is your best camouflage.

Getting close will also give your photographs the intimacy that characterizes good documentary photography. Your photographs will convey the emotion more vividly and anyone looking at them will feel themselves enveloped by what’s going on in the picture.

Approach

As a documentary photographer you must find your natural place on the scale that runs from purely reactive photography to purely anticipatory photography.

I know, you’re thinking: “What the hell does that mean?”

It’s the difference between a hunter and a gatherer.

One is in motion, seeking out photographs. The other is more sedentary, waiting to see something develop.

This is an instance of a purely reactive photograph:

This on the other hand was anticipated:

It’s my belief that to be a good documentary photographer, you need good reactive abilities. To be a great documentary photographer, you also need good anticipatory skills. Everyone can react to a situation. You just need to be there. But to visualize a photograph before it happens is something that will set you apart. It is also where you as a documentary photographer can bring your creativity to bear most effectively.

Seeing the potential of a scene and then working it to get something unique to you is one of the most satisfying parts of being a documentary photographer. No … scratch that. It is the most satisfying part of being a documentary photographer.

I think it can be learned. Some people may find it easier to master than others, but fundamentally I believe you can teach yourself how to anticipate photographs. This is particularly the case for documentary wedding photography, where things follow a set pattern, giving you an edge.

Learning to Anticipate

Anticipation is your greatest asset. You need to nurture it. It will help you produce photographs that nobody else at the wedding could.

There are two ways to anticipate a scene. Firstly, by knowing what is going to happen. Secondly, by guessing.

Wedding days follow a particular pattern. Many parts of the day follow a routine, regardless of the couple involved. you can use that to your benefit.

For instance, at a Catholic wedding mass, the congregation will line up for communion. Often this is behind the couple, seated at the top of the church at the altar. This is their first chance to speak to each other as a married couple. You get some great moments between newlyweds in these circumstances.

Guessing by contrast is a far less exact science, but the pay-off is very satisfying.

I took the picture above while waiting for the bride to arrive at a wedding in Spring 2010.

The flower girl and pageboy were running in and out of the church – you’ve gotta do something to stave off boredom, right? I reckoned that if I could get somebody, preferably the bride with her dad, on the right of the frame and either of the children on the left we’d have an interesting photograph.

In Ireland, guests have a relaxed approach to turning up at the wedding ceremony. I’ve seen people, crowds of them, arrive half an hour late. Usually, things work out OK. Brides are, as is their prerogative, sometimes even later, which balances things out. So while I was anticipating the bride, four guests appeared instead.

Now all I needed was one of the children and I was in business.

Easy enough you’d think, but I was shooting with a Canon 5D II, which has the response of tortoise – a very lazy tortoise on Valium at that. I practically had to press the shutter release while the child was still in the building. I was a little late, as the girl’s bouquet is just nudging out of the frame. Nevertheless, her stance is good and I like the interaction between the outermost guests on the right.

Style

Your style of photography is more than just “documentary”. That on its own isn’t enough. You need to give it your own slant.

I’m big on context. I like to show what’s going on around my subject. I find this gives a better story within a photograph. So I end up taking a lot of photographs with a 24mm wide angle lens.

That in turn has resulted in one of the most obvious characteristics of my work. Often, I’ll have lots going on at the edges of a picture, but nothing in the middle.

I’m also a big fan of shallow depth of field. I like to hang out at f/2.0 and f/2.8. This, combined with my preference to get close, gives the photographs I take with my standard lens the feel of something longer, say an 85mm or 135mm.

The topic of style came up in a conversation with a good friend of mine over coffee. Paul O’Mahony, who is a writer, asked me about a book he had lent me to look at. The book describes in photographs and text the creation of a yacht. Paul and I have something similar in mind and he asked were we going to copy this? I said no. As far as I was concerned the photography in the book, though documentary, wasn’t intimate enough.

I gave this analogy: it was as if the photographer had taken you up to the window of the workshop and was letting you look in through it. I’m more interested in bringing you inside the workshop, bringing you closer, enveloping you in what’s going on. I like to instill that sense of being present in my work. It is characteristic of my style.

You too need to develop your own style, figure out what works for you – what gets you the results that please you.

In Part 2

In the next part of this article, we’ll look at the more technical aspects of documentary wedding photography, including keeping your focus, working with different kinds of lighting, and working around guests and videographers.