I went to Venice for New Year’s Eve for two reasons:
to experience a little luxury, and to see what Venice gives you when you slow down and actually look.
I needed a break.
More importantly, I needed a reset.
A shift in mindset. A reminder of why I fell in love with photography in the first place.
Venice in winter already feels like it exists outside of time.
Add New Year’s Eve, and it becomes something else entirely.
In a strange way, I felt the same.
Hotel Danieli isn’t trying to impress you.
I mean, it does but only if you’re paying attention.
It’s not wrapped up like a Christmas present with logos everywhere.
(It’s the opposite of Louis Vuitton’s Christmas shop, IYKYK)
You feel the quality in the welcome.
In how small problems never become problems at all.
In the confidence of the service: precise, relaxed, never overdone.
That’s something I’m constantly working towards in my own work.
By the end of the first evening, I’d met people from all over the world, all doing wildly different things. In a slightly surreal twist, I became friends with a couple staying in a suite with a balcony overlooking the lagoon, easily one of the best views in Venice for the New Year’s Eve fireworks.
A genuine pinch me moment happened, I had an invite!
I said yes without hesitation.
Was I dreaming?
Down in the bar, conversations flowed.
Designers. Creatives. A historian. A photographer. A hairstylist. An artist’s muse.
It felt like the cast list for an Agatha Christie novel. Thankfully no one was murdered.
People from different backgrounds spent the early evening engaged in conversation. The value of experience over excess was clear, and refreshing.
Good wine helped, obviously, but mostly it was that shared, unspoken feeling of we’ve chosen well. We had surrounded ourselves with like-minded people.
That, to me, is priceless.
That night, we watched the fireworks from a balcony I’d dreamed about for over 20 years.
Ever since I first saw Indiana Jones as a kid, stepping off a boat in Venice, I’ve been consuming films and books that transport me there.
Champagne arrived quietly.
Service without interruption.
Fireworks lighting up the lagoon.
And I cried. Properly.
Not publicly.
Not performatively.
Just one of those private, overwhelming moments that hits when something long-held, finally becomes real.
That kind of emotion can’t be manufactured.
And it photographs beautifully because it’s real.
If someone had preserved that moment for me, exactly as it was, I’d be endlessly grateful.
That’s what I want for my clients.
This trip wasn’t about indulgence.
It was about observation.
Taking time. Watching things unfold.
The best weddings I photograph feel exactly like that night in Venice.
Nothing forced.
Nothing rushed.
Everything considered.
They’re not built for spectacle.
They’re built for experience.
And the photographs reflect that. Intentional, calm, quietly confident.
I genuinely believe couples who schedule every minute of their day, who never give themselves space to stop, end up carrying stress they don’t need. Whether we like it or not, that always shows in photographs.
Time is one of the biggest luxuries you can give yourself.
And it has nothing to do with money and excess.
Venice is layered. Textured. Emotional without being loud.
It doesn’t perform. It exists.
It rewards patience, something I’ve struggled with most of my life.
It’s not perfect.
It floods.
The buildings are wonky.
Summer is chaotic and overcrowded.
That’s exactly why it resonates with how I approach wedding photography. Perfect is not always pristine.
When UK couples choose places like Venice, Lake Como, or Tuscany, they’re not just choosing a backdrop.
They’re choosing a feeling.
They’re borrowing from a lifestyle, even just for a day.
They want their wedding to flow, not be managed within an inch of its life.
That’s where the most powerful images live.
A quiet benchmark for what’s next
Standing there at midnight, champagne in hand, fireworks dissolving into mist, I realised something:
This is the energy I want around me creatively.
This is the level I’m aiming for in my work.
Couples who value time.
Curated, not cluttered days.
Who understand that luxury isn’t logos or excess or the biggest names in designer fashion.
It’s not about money spent, dresses, suits, or guest numbers.
It’s a mindset.
An approach.
Letting things breathe and unfold naturally. Evolving with the day as it unfolds and presents itself. Good or bad. Embracing the day for what it is.
Not flashy.
Not performative.
Just beautifully considered.
Venice set the benchmark.
And I’m committed to work that lives at that level.
And honestly?
I’m not interested in working below it. Weddings deserve so much more.
If you’re drawn to weddings that feel calm, intentional and beautifully unforced whether that’s on in Venice, or closer to home, I’d love to hear about your plans. I photograph a limited number of weddings each year, working closely with couples who value discretion, style and genuine emotion. I love seeing dads cry and watching the passion unfold when your favourite song is played on the dance floor. I’m a huge fan of air guitar moments and Mumma Mia sing offs done in style.
If that sounds like your energy, my diary is intentionally limited, and conversations always start quietly.
