Why I Photograph Weddings in Black & White

One of the questions I'm asked most often is whether I photograph weddings entirely in black and white.

The answer is simple: absolutely not.

A wedding day is full of colour. The flowers you've spent months choosing, the subtle tones of a summer evening, the rich colours of the venue, and the excitement of the celebrations all deserve to be remembered exactly as they were. Colour tells part of the story, and I would never want to take that away.

So why do I include black and white images?

Because some moments transcend colour.

There are occasions during every wedding where the emotion becomes far more important than the surroundings. A quiet glance between a couple before the ceremony. A father seeing his daughter in her dress for the first time. A reassuring hand held during the speeches. The tears, the laughter, the anticipation. These are the moments where colour can become a distraction rather than an enhancement.

Removing colour allows the viewer to focus entirely on expression, light and emotion.

Black and white has a unique ability to simplify an image. It strips away everything that isn't essential and leaves behind only what truly matters. For me, that's where some of the most powerful wedding photographs are created.

That doesn't mean every image works in monochrome.

Quite the opposite.

I'm incredibly selective. Every photograph is considered individually during the editing process. If colour strengthens the image, it stays in colour. If removing colour gives the photograph greater emotional depth or a more timeless quality, then it becomes black and white.

There isn't a formula or a fixed percentage. Each image earns its place.

I often think about how these photographs will be viewed decades from now. Long after fashion trends have changed and colours have faded from memory, the emotions remain exactly the same. A genuine smile, a reassuring embrace or a quiet moment between two people never goes out of style.

That's one of the reasons black and white photography has endured for generations. It's not nostalgic simply because it's monochrome; it's timeless because it asks us to look beyond appearances and connect with the people within the photograph.

My approach to wedding photography has always been documentary in nature. I don't believe in forcing moments that don't naturally exist. Instead, I quietly observe, anticipating those genuine interactions that unfold throughout the day. Whether the final image is presented in colour or black and white is simply the final creative decision in telling that story honestly.

When couples receive their gallery, they'll find a carefully balanced collection of colour and monochrome images. Together they tell the complete story of the day. The vibrant celebrations remain full of life and colour, while those deeply personal, emotional moments are sometimes given the quiet simplicity that only black and white can provide.

For me, black and white isn't a style applied for consistency.

It's a storytelling choice.

And like every decision I make behind the camera, it's made with one aim in mind: creating photographs that will feel just as meaningful in thirty years' time as they do today.

Shooting Dani West — Inside a Wild Records Portrait Session

Some shoots you arrive at with a detailed shot list, a carefully planned lighting diagram, and everything mapped out before the subject even walks through the door. And then there are shoots like this one — where the artist brings so much presence and personality into the room that the best thing you can do as a photographer is get your fundamentals right and then simply respond. Shooting Dani West for Wild Records was one of those sessions, and this image is one I'm genuinely proud of.

Dani is signed to Wild Records https://www.wildrecordseurope.com/shop/dani-west-ambush.html — a label with a distinctive identity rooted in rockabilly, country soul, and classic Americana aesthetics. That context matters enormously when you're planning a portrait session. This wasn't a corporate headshot or a neutral portfolio image. It needed to carry a mood, tell a story, and feel at home alongside an artist brand with serious visual heritage. That's the kind of brief I find most energising.

Building the visual concept

Before the session I thought carefully about what props and styling would do the heavy lifting. The textured plaster backdrop I use for studio work has that painterly, old-world quality that I knew would suit Dani's aesthetic perfectly — it has a timelessness to it that feels right for artists working in classic American genres. The Chesterfield armchair was a deliberate choice: worn leather, brass studs, old money and roadhouse all at once. It's a prop that pulls weight without shouting.

The cowboy hat was Dani's own, and the moment she brought it in I knew it was going in the frame. In portraiture, personal props are gold — they carry authenticity that a hired prop never quite replicates. Rather than placing it on her head, which would have covered her face and lost that direct eye contact, I directed her to hold it at her side, dangling from the armrest. It keeps the hat present as a symbol while letting her face remain the undisputed focal point of the image.

"Personal props are gold in portrait work — they carry authenticity that a hired prop can never quite replicate."

Why monochrome was the only choice

I shoot a significant portion of my music artist work in black and white, and for Dani this was an easy call. The mix of textures in this frame — the cracked leather of the Chesterfield, the floral print of the dress, the velvet jacket, the felt of the hat, the rough plaster backdrop — would have fought each other aggressively in colour. In monochrome, those textures become collaborators. Each one adds surface interest and tactile richness without competing for visual dominance.

There's also something that monochrome does for artist branding that colour rarely achieves in a single image: it signals seriousness. It says this is an artist with a body of work, a point of view, a history. For a label like Wild Records, whose entire aesthetic is steeped in the golden era of American music, that read is exactly right.

Directing the pose and the gaze

Dani has natural presence in front of the camera — the kind you can't manufacture, you can only work with. My job here was to channel that rather than impose on it. The pose we landed on is relaxed but deliberate: legs crossed, body settled into the chair, one arm draped over the armrest with the hat hanging from her fingers. It has the ease of someone who owns the room.

The gaze is what makes the image, though. Direct, level, completely unguarded. There's no performance in it — no smile, no tilt, no softening for the lens. It's the look of an artist who knows exactly who she is. As a photographer, when a subject gives you that, you feel it through the viewfinder. You know you've got the shot.

"When a subject gives you that look — direct, level, completely unguarded — you feel it through the viewfinder. You know you've got the shot."

What music artist photography means to me

I've photographed artists across genres, and what I keep coming back to is this: the best music artist portraits aren't really about music at all — they're about identity. An album cover or a press image is often the first point of contact between an artist and a new listener. It has to do in a single frame what a song does in three minutes. It has to make someone want to know more.

With this portrait of Dani, I think we got there. The image has atmosphere, authority, and a very clear sense of who this artist is. It fits the Wild Records world without being a cliché of it. And for me, walking away from a session with that feeling — that the image is genuinely doing its job — is exactly why I keep coming back to this work.

If you're a musician, a manager, or a label looking for portrait photography that takes your artist's visual identity seriously, this is the kind of work I love to take on. Get in touch — I'd be glad to talk about what we could create together.

Black and white studio portrait of Dani West, Wild Records recording artist, seated in a leather Chesterfield armchair holding a cowboy hat, against a dark textured backdrop.