ABOUT ME & MY APPROACH
Hello, I’m David.
There’s probably something you should know about me: I don’t particularly like having my own photograph taken.
I can’t smile on cue. Put a camera in front of me and tell me what to do and I immediately become more conscious of myself. So when couples tell me they feel awkward in front of a camera, I genuinely understand it.
I’m much more comfortable around people than I am being photographed. I love getting to know the families, friends and characters that make each wedding different.
That connection matters. The more comfortable you are with me, the easier it is to forget about the camera.
I care about the people in the photographs, not just the photographs.
WHERE IT STARTED
Nothing forced. Everything felt.
Years ago, I saw a wedding photograph by Jeff Ascough of a father kneeling in a beautiful pool of light inside a church, apparently praying.
I didn’t know exactly what he was thinking. What stayed with me was that nobody had created the moment for the camera. It was already there.
That photograph changed the way I thought about wedding photography.
I became much more interested in noticing what was happening than constantly creating something to photograph.
That still guides me now.
I’m not interested in staging moments simply because they make impressive portfolio photographs. If you kiss, laugh, cry or something completely unexpected happens, I want it to happen because it was part of your wedding, not because I asked for it.
I’d rather photograph a truthful version of your wedding than create a photographer’s version of it.
FIFTEEN YEARS OF REAL WEDDINGS
What Matters
Fifteen years of weddings has taught me to be patient, trust my instincts and stay calm when something needs solving.
One of the biggest worries couples have is the weather.
If it rains, it really isn’t a disaster. Most venues have rooms with good window light that can work beautifully for portraits. If we need to step outside, umbrellas are always an option.
There is nearly always a solution.
Experience means being able to find it without turning it into something you need to worry about.
It also means knowing when not to interfere.
Some of the photographs I care about most are the ones nobody could have planned. Your mum hugging you with tears in her eyes. Your dad waiting before the ceremony. A friend completely losing it during a speech. Somebody you love laughing in the background while you weren’t even looking.
Beautiful portraits matter. Of course they do.
But I suspect some of those quieter photographs will become even more important as the years pass.
That’s why I watch the people around you as closely as I watch the two of you.
I still feel it
I’ve photographed a lot of weddings, but I don’t think I’ve ever become detached from them.
Personal vows still get me. I’ve genuinely turned away during ceremonies because I could feel myself welling up.
I love meeting the people around you. Mums, dads, grandparents, friends, the loud ones, the quiet ones, the person who has everyone laughing five minutes after I arrive.
That is a big part of why I shoot candidly. I don’t want to spend the day manufacturing moments when there are already so many real ones happening around me.
My job is to notice them.
A look between two people. Somebody squeezing your hand. A parent watching you from across the room. The reaction you never saw because you were looking the other way.
Those things only happen once, and I feel a real responsibility to be ready for them without getting in the way.
If something does need organising, I’ll step in. If the light isn’t working, I’ll find somewhere better. If the weather changes, we adapt.
But underneath all of that, my intention is simple.
I want you to have your wedding. I’ll photograph it.
At the end of the day, I want the photographs to bring you back to the people, the atmosphere and what it actually felt like to be there.
