Emdog333 Gets Bit by the Love Bug

Her email name is EMDOG333. Her real name is Emily. Emily lives in Barryville, VA and wanted to get married in Winchester, in a brand new wedding and banquet hall that specialized in steamship round of beef.

She had a secret plan, one that is very common in Asia and at Asian weddings. She was going to change dresses in the middle of the party. The plan worked and surprised everyone. She had a beautiful silk gown with a big train that was so heavy that two of the bridesmaids had to help her get it over her head. It worked for the ceremony, entrance, first dance "walking the walk"with her new hubby and dinner. Her "plan" was to wear a light weight gown for the "heavy dancing." When she casually came in wearing what can be described as a ball gown out of a movie set, heads tuned. It was a "stunner" as the Brits say.

Each gown was exquisite in it own way and both were perfect for EMDOG333.

P.S. The beef was really yummy!!!!

Generational Photographer

When you have been a photographer for as many years as I have, you have some family business from previous clients you have worked with. I photographed the wedding of sisters, the Bar or Bat Mitzvahs of the children in a family but this weekend's circumstances were different .

My wife and I know Brenda and Murry from our children’s grammar school. We became family friends. Then one of the sons became a husband and my photographs now hang on their wall, admired by their children. Funny thing, a second son found a bride and his wife says the kids love to pour over the album, seeing mom and dad on their special day. But there was one son, whose wedding I missed. I was lucky enough to be at that son’s son's Bar Mitzvah.
As I was photographing, it struck me. Our two families have been intertwined for 40+ years and I have been fortunate enough to record some of our friend's children's life events. It is a happy feeling to hear kids of kids tell you they like your photographs from the time they were gleams in their parent’s eyes

TIME to Kill

Brides view timelines planning differently. Here at Donald Keith Photography, we have seen both ends of the spectrum; from a completely scripted event with steps and turns for the ceremony to "let it happen.” Most brides find a middle ground, suiting their personality and one that mom or hubby to be, can live with. The pit fall is that Murphy is alive and well at loves to attack a wedding. This is the guy who wrinkles the brides dress, causing a panic attack looking for a steam iron and resulting in a $3,000 overtime bill at the church; Or the buss that breaks down on the American Legion Bridge in the middle of a torrential rain storm, causing several thousand of dollars in vendor overtime charges and winding up on TV and in court. Or the bride who arrives at the church from the hair dresser, takes her hair down and resets it, causing a 45 minute delay in the church ceremony. I could go on and on. My point is none of these real life examples could be prevented with a minute by minute plan of the day. My suggestion is to make a loose plan for the day, in blocks of time such 3-4 PM, Photographs-- not 3:00-310, groom photos, 3:11-3:30 bride photos. Time block allow wiggle room and lifts stress from the brides shoulders.

Plan realistically. It is almost impossible to make 50 photographs of family groups in 30 minutes, and assemble the groups to boot! Plan judiciously. Start with the bride, build on the groom, add on the best man and maid of honor, then finish with the whole wedding party.

Number the family groups and hand each person a 3 x 5 card with the group number he or she is in. Build these groups logically also. Aunt Betty and Uncles Joe, then add their kids, and then finish with the kids and grand kids. YOU get it !!!!

Venice is a normal city BUT

You have to remember Venice sits on a series of Islands and the logistics of keeping it normal, functioning, and afloat (no pun intended) are tremendous. Goods (food, lumber, sheet rock, wine, EVERYTHING comes in by train, overland trucks, or cargo boat. Along the edges of the main island in the industrial area, workers break large loads into smaller sizes, smaller portions get moved to a break down point where they are sub divided into hand truck manageable bundles and then moved by a person to the last destination. THE PROCESS IS LABOR INTENSIVE AND CONTRIBUTES IN LARGE MEASURE THE COST OF EVERYTHING. The neighborhood supermarket, two blocks fron my B and B, the RESIDENZIA RIVERIA received its food by an 18-wheeler very early in the morning. A major difference, however. The truck was driven onto a specially designed liter, so that that the transport boat could back into the causeway in front of the supermarket, open the doors of the truck, and special forklifts in and outside the truck unloaded specially designed pallets and moved them into the store through a door. Of course, I left the camera in the room.

Not so with the garbage. My camera was ready early in the morning when a funny looking green lighter pulled into a canal outlet going to the sea. The workboat was low in the water with a familiar looking contraption riding in the boat. WALLA, IT WAS A GARBAGE TRUCK tucked into a garbage collection boat. But wait, something was different. The top of the truck had hatches in it and the boat driver was sitting in a small control cab for a crane. Garbage collection is the reverse of supplying the island. Householders put one day’s garbage into small supermarket bags and leave them out side the door. The Commune of Venice (city) collects them in medium kitchen sized trash bags, which they stuff all into clear lawn/leaf capacity plastic bags. Not to little, not too big but easily handled by one person. The neighborhood garbage collections wind up in rolling carts, pushed to the side of a canal to meet their fate with the garbage boat.

The boat arrives, a section of the top pops open, the crane swings over a rolling cart and picks it up. It swings back over the open truck section, drops the cart on to bars which open springs on the cart bottom, the bottom drops and you hear the sound of bottles and cans as it all CRASHES to the bottom of the garbage truck. The compactor does its WHIRR, CRONCH, CRUNCH and the process starts over again with another cart.

Garbage disposal isn’t supposed to be this complicated, but then again, most of us do not live on the Island of Venice.

Last Night, Lucky Night

The organizers told us the tour took us to St. Marks square, and then we would go to dinner. The hosts were masters of understatement. We spent 20 minutes hearing about the history of the Basilica of San Marco in St. Marks Square. Then the guides invited us in through a side door for a private organ concrete, tour, alter walk through, and a visit to St. Mark’s crypt. We entered in darkness and sat listening to the first sounds from a huge pipe organ. Gradually lights came on, one by one, bank by bank, revealing millions of golden glass mosaic particles covering the walls and ceiling. WOW, double WOW. The Basilica can seat 1000 but was the private chapel of the Doge (elected ruler of the City Republic of Venice.) The vast majority of the tourists never even get inside of the hugh edifice, let alone hear an organ concert, and take a guided tour of the inside. Best of all, I was able to take some no flash photographs. Then off to a leisurely Italian dinner in one of the cities finest restraints, at the foot of the famed Feniche Opera House. MORE WOW!!!!

Blogging from Venice

Being without a computer since last Sunday has been more of a pain than you can imagine. Our B and B, had line trouble and had no phone or internet for 4 days. Relying on internet cafes and hot spots was time consuming, very expensive and dangerous to my computer (picked up a piece of malware that junk mailed my address book.)

Venice is a city designed for photographers. Everywhere you look that are 5 photos that you must take. Each is rustic, quaint, and beautiful. Therefore, you keep photographing, knowing there is no way possible to print all or even show them to friends. Our host at the B and B welcomed us with an unexpected meal, on him,we learned later. The photo above is the 1st course. After we unpacked, washed our faces, and changed, it was hardcore tourist time. In Venice that means WALK, WALK, and continue to walk. It was 4 miles the first day. Photography was on my mind and I wanted to capture as much as I could. The bed felt good that night.

Getting Ready –Part 2

The pace picks up as you get ready to depart for an international destination. Emails fly through the ether and demand immediate reading since there is potential for changes in SOMETHING. In Part I of this post you read that I was the senior twin (twin A) of a twin set. Not any more. The organizing committee demoted me to the rank of my brother’s son. Given the fact he has no children, I will readily assume this position. In fact, my name tag will say Donald Keith, Louis Keith’s son. This will further confuse all who know me and still mistake me for Louis. They will say, “Louis, since when do you have a beard? My reply will be the standard twin response, “excuse me, who are you?” This piles good natured embarrasment onto bewilderment. Way cool to be a twin who refuses to grow up.

Getting Ready

International travel is always fun for me. Years ago, my travels took me to Europe three to four times a year. Not any more. Now, it is one trip every who knows when, Well the when is next week when I go to Venice to help a buddy hang an exhibition on twins. It is at the San Clemente Palace Hotel and Resort in Venice.Since my photograph is one of these he will present, I have a stake in seeing the show hung properly. Nevertheless, I am changing the way I pack. A lot less clothes, a lot more camera and computer equipment. My twin brother (younger) says I carry too much, but I remind him how I used to take my toys as a kid; now the toys are more expensive and heavier. Therefore, I will carry fewer clothes to appease him. My big debate is one or two cameras. He says one; my gut says two. How can a photographer survive Venice with only one camera????

Be My Bride!!

Let me kiss you with everlasting life

Arlington Cemetery, the Bitter and the Sweet

Photographing a funeral is never easy; it is like walking on eggs. You want to make a record of the event but you do not want to intrude. It is even a greater challenge when you know the deceased well, like 12 years, as part of your work family. When the survivors tell 100 mourners no photographs, except mine, you try your best, your very best.

Full military honors are a beautiful ceremony; I agonize if I want this as a final tribute for 24 years, 4 months and 11 days of service. Besides the burial team, bugler playing taps,and firing squad, there is a band, a marching platoon, and the colors. All in all, there are a lot of people involved and it is a ceremony that has no mistakes allowed or tolerated.

The weather cooperated, the sun was out after a day of rain, the mud won, and the tears flowed, as should be. Don’s minister was eloquent, the bugler crisp, the final volley jarring as it always is, and a grateful nation paid final respects to one of it sons.

Writing Blogs

Many people have a hard time writing their blog. This is not one of my issues, for me it is time to write and reflect. 

Back in my sophomore year of SSHS, I sent a column in to the now defunct Chicago Daily Calumet, one of the country’s oldest daily neighborhood papers. The story was about the school’s rifle team. They sent me a check $for $1.00 and asked for more. More what? That buck got me very creative, motivating me to cover the entire range of athletic events in the school, INCLUDING women’s sports before most paid any attention to them. 

Reporting on girls’ volleyball, swimming, and square dancing as competitive sports increased my opportunities to earn that buck. If our school competed with other schools, it merited a story. The editors loved it. Students loved it, seeing their name in print the first time. Parents loved it, buying papers to send to grandparents, and at a buck a column, my camera, toys and darkroom loved it.

Bring on the blogs.