What's keeping me busy.

So what's on the to-do list? Typesetting FANG 4, design work on SoFurry and that iPad app, editing and uploading the videos from my Description and Dialogue panels from Eurofurence, balancing 2K photos from the Serbian Wedding, investigating whether I need to re-license stories from FANG and ROAR before they can be released as ebooks. Oh yes, and Heathen City 4 needs writing, a job I've been putting off for a year because, when I start it, that's going to eat up another year of my life...

So of course I'm thinking of starting a podcast. Skip's boyfriend Bun suggested the title *Alex Vance Demands Your Attention* and I love it. It would be an interview show, run over Skype, with every episode featuring a pair of guests related to a particular theme. "Publishers Demand Your Attention", "Voice Actors Demand Your Attention", that sort of thing.

I just can't for the life of me figure out when I'd be able to actually do it. I'm blessed with enough local friends that we have guests in the house four or five nights of the week and I'm already on a sleep schedule that averages 5.5 hours a night.

What to do, what to do?

Screw.

Gotcha :)

Squeeze.

Disconnected.

The photos from the Serbian Wedding

And here are the fruits of my labor. Time to sleep now, I think.

Full set available here.

Zzzzz....

A Serbian Wedding: Photography, the iPad and the Endless Polka

If I had any secret dreams of switching careers to professional wedding photography, I have now been cured of them. My god that's hard work. Constant vigilance, trying to catch those magical little moments before they happen so you've got a few seconds to fiddle with your controls, steady your aim, reposition yourself for a good frame and snap.

A Serbian friend from work invited me to her wedding and bemoaned the fact that photographers are so expensive. I mentioned I'd been getting into photography lately and that I therefore understood what a costly business it could be, how unpredictable, and she interrupted me to ask if I'd be willing to shoot some pictures at the wedding. I of course agreed, partly because I'm rather fond of her (despite the fact that I call her The Thieving Gypsy and Miss Titsma on occasion) but mostly because I was keen for the exercise. 

Another friend of hers was already going to be photographing the event, so I would be what's called the 'second shooter'. Having read many blogs and articles on the subject I knew what would be expected of me: to stay out of the primary photographer's field of view as much as possible; to anticipate which events could use both of us and where it would be better for me to find different subjects, to either increase coverage or variety. We both had limited kit in order to stay light on our feet and coordinated what we'd bring and where we'd shoot. The very best laid plans!

The Primary Photog, being a logntime friend of the the Thieving Gypsy, and additionally a girl, would spend the morning with the bride and her maids. I was asked to hang out with the groom and his men and shoot some of his prep. Now, I'd hoped for a sort of The Hangover situation where there would be ample camaraderie, but the groom's posse consisted only of his cousin, so I felt more than a little out of place. Especially when we got in the car and picked up another cousin, a frizzy-haired giant of a man. Sat in the back, wedged between large, vigorous Former Yugoslavians, I felt utterly insignificant in the universe. 

Arriving at the Darling Couple's home, the true life of the party kicked in. The house was packed with family members, clustered in the living room or the balcony. The maids and ladies of the clan sneaking into the bedroom to admire the Bride, while the men clustered around the accordionist and argued with each other over which song they'd bully him into playing next. The Bride appeared to a thunderstorm of applause and a monsoon of sloppy kisses and was immediately dragged into a rather vigorous circle hora, a circle dance that threatened to trample into dust anyone not participating.

Then it was off to the ceremony. Here we benefited most from the fact that the Groom is a professional cameraman; he herded us briskly up to the ceremony room and had the guests remain outside, giving us a few very valuable minutes to inspect the light, available perches, and work out a strategy. Given the limited freedom of movement once everyone was seated, the primary photographer, videographer and I hammered out a game plan, where I'd move back and forth along one side of the room and crouch behind the chairs as much as possible to stay out of view and capture little candids here and there.  

It was an exercise in discretion and stealth; crouching like a soldier or paparazzo to hide behind chairs so I wouldn't appear on the primary photographer's photos, shuffling back and forth to get a few interesting angles, all without distracting the guests or registrar.

Wonderful ceremony, though. Nice and short, with an apparently excellent speech given by a cousin who looked like Elvis and forgot to translate into English after a few minutes, so I have no idea what he said. The guests and couple seemed to love it, though.

 They said their vows, exchanged their rings, signed the registry and were man and wife. In addition to the witnesses, two of the kids were invited to sign as child witnesses as well. These siblings, a boy and a girl, both blonde and bilingual, were natural born stars; there wasn't one picture on any of my cards where they didn't look stunning. The girl would later confide in me that she didn't actually have a signature and just made one up, writing her name with a few flourishes through it, and gave me a stern look when I asked her if she drew a little heart too. Obviously I don't know how to talk to celebrities. 

Now, I hadn't been given an itinerary so I was caught by surprise when the very next thing was the proper wedding photos. The Groom had already chosen a pair of locations, but I was underprepared and I feel that the collaboration with the primary photographer didn't work out to our adavantage here. It was 2 PM on the brightest, hottest day we've had all summer; notoriously difficult light to shoot in. My exposures came out significantly better than the primary's, partly because I was shooting RAW, but since I was focusing on being a good second shooter I stayed out of her way and didn't distract the couple. Result: my exposures came out pretty good, but I have almost no shots of the couple looking at the camera, let alone smiling.

Off we went to the reception. The groom sent us up ahead to the reception venue so we could capture the couple's arrival, but it was in a small street with lots of parked cars and construction equipment and the family soon filed out to populate the street so densely I got almost no usable coverage. And even if I had, it wouldn't have been romantic to see the Darling Couple shuffling along corrugated iron plates, trying to dodge the fenced-off construction pit on the left and the overflowing skip on the right.

Here I was exposed to some Balkan traditions: first the bride and groom were given big shot glasses of home-made peach brandy (this stuff was so potent that you'd inhale it more than drink it, as it would evaporate before reaching your tongue) after which the Bride had to lift up a newborn baby and, I believe, rub it over her face. Supposedly for fertility. Strange folk, those Serbians. 

The food was delicious, but slow to come. At one point another Balkan tradition came to pass: each table was given a hunk of (deicious) home-made bread and it would be passed from guest to guest, each breaking off a chunk. In my childhood I spent enough time with the Indonesian side of my heritage that this sharing of food and eating with your hands felt very familiar, and despite the massive language barriers there was a tremendous sense of unity and fraternity.

Thus began what would turn out to be twelve hours of non-stop polka. Polka ballads, polka rock, polka techno... On my way home I would still have the accordion ringing in my ears, it was so pervasive. What was impressive, though, was that everyone seemed to know the words to most of the songs -- old and young alike. I come from somewhat musical families myself, on both the Irish and Indonesian sides, and each have a few songs that the whole clan was raised on (the first and second verse of "Hit the Road, Jack" and "The Boxer" on the Indonesian side; "The Sash My Father Wore" and "Holy Mary I Am Dying" on the Irish side) but those are fairly small in number. I was impressed at the liveliness of Serbian culture across the ages, though of course I had no way of knowing whether the youngsters were versed in the classic folk music, or the oldsters were down with the hip new Serbo-pop. 

All the while, I'd been dealing with logistics manfully. I had underestimate how much I'd shoot and how much of that coverage would be worth keeping, so I used whatever downtime I had to swap lenses, import the photos from my two 8GB cards and charge my single camera battery. Thanks to Photosmith I was able to get a head-start on rating and organizing the photos I'd shot, so at the reception I was able to pass the iPad around and show the best pictures of the ceremony to those who hadn't attended it. And by that time I'd already eliminated the photos that didn't nail the frame or the focus, or which didn't speak of the joy and beauty of the day, so all they could see was warmth and mirth.

And before the evening was over, I already had about a hundred photos spanning the entire day that were good enough to be shared with the Darling Couple while they waited on te properly processed finals. That made the hard work of the day very gratifying. I could show the results and delight the interested guests at any time, and all the gear fit in a single shoulder-slung satchel that didn't make me look like a total dweeb. 

Speaking of which, I do think I looked rather dashing. I'd originally thought of dressing light casual, as I'd be doing a lot of running around as photographer. At the last moment I realized that during the ceremony I'd be behind the couple, in full view of the guests, so I had no choice but to dress to the nines. Gold tie, crisp white shirt, charcoal tartan waistcoat. Respect the vest.

It was a wonderful day. Best weather we've had all year, immersion in a warm and alien, yet familiar culture, and a wonderful opportunity to put some of the skills I've been learning to the test. I came into photography backwards, already an advanced digital image editor due to my background in publisher. Consequently, when I'm shooting I'm thinking more abuot giving myself enough creative room to produce a good image in post, only gradually learning to more quickly evaluate a scene with the old-fashioned Mark-1 Eyeball. I think I managed quite well -- all the photos in this post are straight out of the camer, without cropping or grading.  

I had a wonderful time at the wedding and I'm tremendously grateful I could spend the day with the Darling Couple and their family.

Serbians know how to party!

Ready for a wedding? Yes ma'am, yes I am.