A palette
to begin the day.
Before the dress, the ceremony, and the party, there were the small details of getting ready. I started with the makeup palette—all those colors, before the day began to unfold.
An invitation
to New Year’s Eve.
Alyssa and David. December 31, 2017. Aria Event Center in downtown Minneapolis. The black and gold invitation set the tone for a wedding that would carry right into the new year.
A dress.
A little Warhol.
This was my first wedding at Aria. I had seen plenty of photographs made there, and I wanted to find an image that felt like my own. In a room off the kitchen, I found these Warhol soup-can prints. I’ve always loved Warhol, so I brought in Alyssa’s dress and hung it in front of them. I like to think I found the photograph I came looking for.
His reaction
says it all.
I love her expression as she shows him the dress. Then look at David: rocking back on his heels, a hand behind his back, and that smile. A first look gives you a chance to watch both people at once.
A moment
for Alyssa.
A closer portrait through her veil. After the first look, I wanted a photograph that brought everything back to her face and that beautiful smile.
The room
around them.
From above, I could show the scale of Aria’s ceremony space with the two of them in it. The rows of chairs, the tall draping, and all that brick become part of their wedding story.
Let a little
motion in.
For this photograph, I slowed the shutter to about 1/30 of a second and had them walk. I wanted a little blur. I love his expression, and the movement works beautifully in black and white against Aria’s industrial setting.
Just before
the aisle.
The silk curtain parted just long enough for me to see Alyssa smiling and laughing with her parents. I had a brief opening and made the photograph. These little moments before the ceremony are worth watching for.
Everyone
gathered together.
A wider view of the ceremony shows the room with their guests in it. Above them, the balloons were already waiting for later. The same space would hold two very different parts of the day.
Another way
to see the ceremony.
I photographed through the decor, letting the branches, crystals, and candles lead into the ceremony. The couple falls softly out of focus. It’s another way to remember what the room felt like.
The stories
that came before.
A table of photographs remembered loved ones and the family stories that came before this day. Beside them, the guest book was ready for new words and wishes. I always like to make time for details with this kind of meaning.
Find your seat.
The seating chart carried their names and the date again, surrounded by greenery. A practical part of the evening, and another detail that belonged to their celebration.
Gold branches.
Candlelight.
The gold branches and hanging crystals caught the light above the flowers. I moved closer to show the table settings, then let the draping and chandeliers fall softly into the background.
A little heart
in Minnesota.
Minnesota-shaped cookies, each with a little gold heart marking the place they were celebrating. A small detail that says something about where the day happened.
The reception
takes shape.
The ceremony space had become a reception room. I wanted a view close enough to see the place settings, but wide enough to hold the lighting, the lounge seating, and the texture of the walls.
A view
toward the stage.
From above, the tables and the stage came together in one photograph. The balloons overhead are a little reminder that this was a wedding and a New Year’s Eve party.
Before the room
fills again.
Another view from above, looking across the tables before everyone returned. I like having photographs of a room both before and after the people arrive. Each tells a different part of the story.
A little practice.
Before their entrance, they had a little time to practice the first dance. An empty room, a turn in the dress, and one more smile before the reception began.
Make an entrance.
Then it was time to come into the room. Her expression and the way they’re walking together give this photograph its energy. I let the brick doorway frame that moment.
Behind the band.
Inside the moment.
There happened to be enough room on the stage for a different view. I stayed clear of the musicians and photographed from behind the band, focusing on Alyssa and David while the foreground and guests softened. I love how it works in black and white.
The room
comes alive.
I went back up for a view of the room with everyone out of their seats. Now the band, the dance floor, and all those people give the space a different kind of energy.
A toast
from Dad.
It was tight around the tables, so I worked with the flowers and crystals in front of me. Her dad raised his glass, and the two of them raised theirs. I wanted the photograph to feel like being right there at the table.
Dinner together.
A room full of people sitting together, talking, and enjoying dinner. I made this wider photograph to keep that part of the evening, too—the people who came to celebrate with them.
Ready for
the new year.
The hats, the horns, the noisemakers—everything was ready for the New Year’s Eve part of the celebration. A few hours earlier, the room had been quiet. That was about to change.
Here come
the balloons.
Then the balloons came down. Alyssa and David reached up into the celebration, glasses in hand. The whole evening had been building toward this.
In the middle
of it all.
Balloons everywhere, and the two of them right in the middle. I stayed close to keep their expressions in the photograph as the room changed around them.
A kiss
for the new year.
A wedding day, a room full of their people, and a kiss among the balloons. This is where I wanted to leave their story: together, with a new year beginning.
A familiar place.
A different view.
My first wedding at Aria began with a dress and a little Warhol, and ended with the two of them kissing among the balloons.
That’s what keeps me curious: finding another way to see a place, while keeping the people and their day at the heart of the photographs.