One day in August, Bec and Mic invited friends and family from Brisbane, Australia to a small tea party in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. I brought my friend Nirav Patel to document what happened.
I get a few wedding inquiries. And even though I do get to shoot all over the world, I try not to get my hopes up. Plans change and weddings get cancelled. And for me it’s sometimes as exciting shooting in my own back yard. When I received Cheree and Mitchell’s inquiry about shooting their wedding, I reacted the way I normally do. I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Not only were they planning on having their reception at the Sydney Opera House, they also planned to have TWO weddings, the second one in Cape Town, South Africa, two weeks after the first one. I would have jumped at either one.
Well, they went through with it and I flew to Sydney to shoot their first wedding. And the same thing happened as always happens, I started shooting and time and place became irrelevant. I was shooting a beautiful love story, just look at the way Cheree and Mitchell look at each other, look at the way their families share those precious days with them. It wouldn’t have mattered where they got married. Not with love like that. It was interesting to see Cheree’s South African family share their joy with her and Mitchell in Cape Town, how much more at ease they were with their close friends around. Mitchell’s Maltese family shared the Sydney part of the wedding with them, but in many ways I wonder what it would have been like if the first part of the wedding would have taken place in Malta instead, Sydney the obvious middle ground, a mix of their two cultures. But home is always home. But saying that I know it wouldn’t have mattered. Look at Cheree looking at Mitchell. Look at him looking at her. Both in Sydney and in Cape Town. It wouldn’t have mattered where in the world they got married. They were already home.
Music Credit: Balmorhea – Dream of Thaw (iTunes)
I normally wouldn’t include something like this in a blog post from a wedding, but this time it’s such a huge part of the story, so I simply have to. Alex only met his biological father once. He came to Stockholm out of the blue, they fought, they made up and promises were made they would catch up again on the island of Lipari, just off Sicily, where Alex father lived. Three weeks later, before Alex got to see him again, his father died in a tragic accident. Maybe I mention this because I too lost my father, but I feel it’s integral to the images I’m about to show you. Alex father left him a beautiful house on top of this magnificent island and the wedding took place there, getting ready, ceremony and the reception that followed. I imagine this has shaped Alex in more ways than one. You can tell he’s a man that looks after his relationships. The love he shows for Frida, his mother, his half brother, step father and everyone around him inspired me immensely. Helping me capture this weekend I had Jakob from Nordica Photography. I could write a whole blog post about his talent. And the wedding planners was my dear friends Mitra and Fabio. It was a love fest like no other.