Wedding Locations
Every place has a story. What matters is why you chose it.
Every Place Has a Story
A wedding can happen almost anywhere.
I have photographed weddings in grand ballrooms and small churches, on farms and mountaintops, beside lakes and in backyards. I have photographed couples at country clubs, museums, historic buildings and City Hall. Some celebrations have filled beautiful formal venues with hundreds of guests. Others have involved just a couple, a few people they love and a place that mattered to them.
After photographing weddings for many years, I have come to believe that the best wedding location isn’t necessarily the grandest or most beautiful one.
It is the place that feels right for the couple.
Sometimes that choice is about family or tradition. Sometimes it is about a view, a favorite town or a place where something important happened. And sometimes a couple simply walks into a venue and knows: this is where we want to get married.
Those choices become part of their story.
And part of mine.
Learn how I approach a wedding day →
When the Light Becomes Part of the Wedding
One of my all-time favorite places to photograph a wedding was the Saratoga National Museum of Dance.
There was a semicircular room where ceremonies were held, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows. Light entered from several directions and seemed to wrap itself around the couple. There was very little a photographer needed to do except recognize what was happening and photograph it.
Outside were flowers, covered porticos and the landscape of Saratoga Spa State Park, with beautiful pine trees reaching high above everything.
I was fortunate to photograph several weddings there before the museum closed during the pandemic, and I still remember that light.
Nearby is another Saratoga location I have always loved: Yaddo Gardens.
For one wedding, the couple chose Yaddo for their first look before we continued to the Museum of Dance for their ceremony. The gardens and long rose-covered pergola created this wonderfully quiet place for the two of them before the wedding really began.
That is one of the things I enjoy about Saratoga. Within a relatively small area, a wedding day can move from gardens to historic architecture, from quiet natural spaces to an elegant reception.
I have photographed throughout Saratoga Springs and the surrounding area, from Saratoga Spa State Park and the Hall of Springs to the Warming Hut, Saratoga Battlefield and beyond.
Every location gives you something different to work with.
Churches, Tradition and Places That Mean Something
Church weddings have always had their own rhythm.
There is the architecture, certainly, the long aisle, stained glass, high ceilings and beautiful old woodwork, but what interests me more is what these places often represent.
Sometimes generations of a family have celebrated marriages, baptisms and other important moments in the same church. Sometimes it is the church where the bride or groom grew up. Sometimes faith is simply an important part of how the couple wants to begin their marriage.
I have photographed ceremonies in large cathedrals and small neighborhood churches throughout the region, including the Cathedral of All Saints and St. Mary’s in Albany, St. Joseph’s in Kingston, St. Gregory’s in Woodstock, Westminster Presbyterian Church, the Church of the Immaculate Conception in Glenville and many others.
Each requires a slightly different approach. Some churches are filled with natural light. Others are dark and intimate. Some allow photographers considerable freedom; others ask us to remain almost invisible.
The setting changes.
The responsibility doesn’t.
The ceremony is happening once.
A Mountaintop in Vermont
I photographed a beautiful fall wedding on a farm atop a mountain in West Haven, Vermont. In one direction you could see the Adirondacks. In the other were the Taconic Mountains. It was almost like the opening scene of The Sound of Music, mountains everywhere you looked.
I photographed the couple walking through the fields, embracing, running and spinning. Everywhere I turned there seemed to be another photograph. It was one of those places where you almost couldn’t take a bad picture.
It was also the wedding where I learned something.
There was no electricity.
I always bring a battery recharge kit to a wedding, chargers, extension cords and everything I might need to keep equipment running through a long day. About halfway through this wedding, standing in the middle of a field on top of a mountain, it occurred to me that all of that equipment was completely useless without an electrical outlet.
Fortunately, I also carry a lot of extra batteries, and I had enough to make it through the night.
When I got home, I added a car charger to my recharge kit.
I’ve carried one ever since.
Sometimes experience is knowing exactly how you want to photograph a beautiful mountaintop wedding.
And sometimes experience is discovering what you forgot to bring to the first one.
Farms, Barns and Weddings Under an Open Sky
There is something wonderfully relaxed about a farm wedding.
Barns, fields and open landscapes allow the wedding to become part of the surroundings rather than being contained within a traditional ballroom. Couples can make the space their own, and no two celebrations ever seem quite alike.
I have photographed weddings at Liberty Ridge Farm in Schaghticoke, Brookledge in Middle Grove, The Barn at Liberty Farms in Ghent, farms in Vermont and private properties throughout the region.
I have also photographed weddings that weren’t really at “venues” at all.
One took place on a family property in Selkirk, a backyard farm wedding where the location mattered because it was home.
Those weddings are a good reminder that a beautiful celebration doesn’t require a place designed specifically for weddings.
A field can become a ceremony site.
A barn can become a ballroom.
A backyard can become the place where everyone you care about gathers for one extraordinary day.
The Wedding That Looked Like Italy
Another wedding I remember vividly took place at a rented estate in the Berkshire Mountains.
The property had a large house, a pond and an expansive outdoor patio. The ceremony took place beside the water. Dinner and dancing happened outside beneath strings of lights and the night sky.
The house itself looked like a Tuscan villa.
Over the years, people looking at photographs from that wedding have asked me whether I traveled to Italy to photograph it.
I would have loved to say yes.
It was actually just a little closer to home in the Berkshires.
That region has given me an incredible variety of places to photograph, from private estates and country clubs to the landscapes around Pittsfield, Richmond, Sheffield, Dalton and Lanesborough.
Sometimes you don’t need to travel very far to feel as though you’ve gone somewhere completely different.
Country Clubs, Ballrooms and the Classic Wedding Venue
There is also a reason couples continue to choose traditional wedding venues.
Everything is there.
The ceremony, cocktail hour, dinner and dancing can flow naturally from one part of the property to another. Couples can spend less time thinking about logistics and more time celebrating with the people they invited to be there.
Over the years I have photographed celebrations at places including Franklin Plaza, River Stone Manor, Glen Sanders Mansion, Normanside Country Club, Orchard Creek Golf Club, Mohawk River Country Club, Skyline Country Club, Wahconah Country Club, Fort William Henry, The Terrace at Waters Edge, Settles Hill and many others.
What I look for at these venues isn’t simply the ballroom.
I look for the spaces around it.
A quiet hallway with beautiful window light. A terrace just before sunset. An interesting architectural detail. A stand of trees away from the reception. Sometimes the photograph that most completely captures the feeling of the day happens fifty feet away from the place everyone expects it to.
Returning to the Adirondacks
I love the Adirondacks and will take almost any opportunity to go there.
I’ve hiked the High Peaks, stood on top of Whiteface Mountain looking out across what seems like an endless landscape, and my family and I have spent summer days staying in a cabin in Keene and simply exploring Lake Placid and the greater Adirondack region.
So when someone tells me they’re getting married in the Adirondacks, I’m already interested.
I’ve photographed a number of fall weddings there, but one I remember particularly well was at The Woods Inn in Inlet.
The groom had proposed at sunset on a dock overlooking Fifth Lake. When they decided to get married, they chose to return to the place where that part of their story began.
Of course, we had to go back to the dock at sunset.
The sun was disappearing behind the mountains and that beautiful warm evening light was spilling across the surface of the lake as they stood together and kissed.
There are times when everything comes together, the light, the landscape and the couple, and you know while you’re taking the photograph that you’re capturing something special.
But what made that photograph meaningful wasn’t really the Adirondacks or even the sunset.
It was that dock.
They knew what had happened there before.
And now the photograph held both moments.
Museums, Historic Places and Somewhere Unexpected
Some couples are drawn to places that don’t fit neatly into the traditional idea of a wedding venue.
I understand the appeal.
Museums, historic buildings, parks and unusual spaces give photographs a completely different character. I have photographed at the New York State Museum, The Hyde Collection in Glens Falls, Brown’s Revolution Hall in Troy, Schenectady’s Central Park Rose Garden, the Altamont Fairgrounds and other locations that brought something completely individual to the celebration.
These places often encourage us to explore.
Rather than walking into a predetermined “photo location,” we look at the architecture, the light and the surroundings and figure out together what we can create.
Those are often some of my favorite wedding days.
City Hall, Small Weddings and Elopements
Not every wedding needs a ballroom.
I have photographed couples at Albany City Hall and smaller celebrations where the wedding was intentionally simple.
There is something wonderful about that, too.
The scale of the celebration has very little to do with the importance of the moment. Two people exchanging vows at City Hall are just as married as two people celebrating with 250 guests beneath chandeliers.
Smaller weddings and elopements also give us a different kind of freedom. We can walk. Explore. Find interesting streets and architecture. Stop when the light looks beautiful.
The city itself can become the venue.
Finding Stillness in New York City
New York City is different for me because I came to know it with a camera in my hand.
For a period of time, I traveled to New York almost every week for my work. When the workday was finished, I would often take my camera and simply go exploring.
Sometimes I walked for miles. Other times I would get on the subway, get off somewhere that interested me and start walking again. I wasn’t necessarily looking for the familiar New York landmarks. I was looking at the city as a photographer, watching how the light moved between buildings, finding interesting architecture, streets, doorways and quiet corners, and remembering places where I thought, I’d like to photograph someone here someday.
That time gave me a different relationship with New York.
I learned that you can walk around a corner and suddenly the light changes. A street that doesn’t look particularly interesting at noon can become completely different at dusk. Sometimes the best location isn’t the famous one a few blocks away. It’s something you notice along the way.
And I learned to love photographing there.
New York has its own energy. There is movement everywhere, the people, traffic, architecture, light and sound. Yet when I photograph a couple there, I am often looking for exactly the opposite.
Stillness.
Somehow, two people can make the city slow down when they are together. The world continues moving around them, but for a fraction of a second they seem to have made time stop just for themselves.
I’ve photographed people around the Brooklyn Bridge, the Oculus, the New York Public Library and Central Park, as well as countless streets and quieter corners throughout the city.
But some of my favorite photographs have come from places like Stone Street.
At dusk, when the light is just right, the narrow street and old buildings can take on an almost European quality. The restaurants are busy, people are walking past and Lower Manhattan is moving all around us.
And then there is the couple.
For a moment, everything else becomes background.
Those are the New York photographs I love most, not simply photographs that say we were in New York, but photographs of two people being themselves in the middle of one of the busiest cities in the world.
From the Catskills to the Adirondacks—and Beyond
After so many weddings, it becomes difficult to make a complete list of everywhere I have photographed and all of the wedding styles I have photographed.
Albany. Saratoga. Troy and Schenectady. The Hudson Valley and Catskills. Lake George and the Adirondacks. The Berkshires and Vermont. New York City.
There have been churches and farms, museums and country clubs, restaurants and historic buildings, lakes and mountains, ballrooms and backyards.
And there are undoubtedly places I have forgotten to include.
That’s okay.
Because the location itself has never really been the point.
What matters is why you chose it.
Maybe it is the church your family has attended for generations. Maybe you love the mountains.
Maybe you want an elegant ballroom filled with everyone you know. Maybe your perfect wedding is twenty people gathered in your backyard.
Or maybe there is a dock on a lake where someone once asked you a very important question.
Wherever you choose, that place becomes part of your wedding story.
I’d love to hear about yours.
Tell me where you’re getting married, and why you chose it.
Your Location. Your Story.
Whether you’re planning a wedding in a grand ballroom, a quiet church, a family backyard, on a mountaintop or somewhere that means something only to the two of you, I’d love to hear why you chose it.