photography
I grew up around photography long before I ever imagined it would become my career. My parents were hobby photographers back in the days of film, and as an ’80s kid I was modeling for them and playing with their old point-and-shoot cameras — sometimes even managing to photograph my own eye (110 film cameras made that surprisingly easy). At the time, I never would’ve guessed that photography would one day be my life’s work.
I’m originally from Los Angeles, and Allan and I first met in 2000, then reconnected a few years later while he was visiting California. Before I moved to New York, we took a six-week RV trip through nine national parks, cameras in hand — Allan focused on sweeping landscapes while I chased chipmunks and wildlife. That pretty much sums us up.
I originally started shooting weddings to help Allan, and he wouldn’t let me quit. Over time, I realized I loved not just the photography, but the people — helping couples feel supported, and then delivering images that genuinely make them happy. After nearly 20 years, that feeling still hasn’t worn off. There’s nothing quite like capturing a moment you know they’ll treasure forever.
Working together, we balance each other creatively and personally. We’re always offering ideas, refining each other’s vision, and pushing one another to be better — even if we occasionally get on each other’s nerves (it’s been 20 years, after all). I love collaborating with other photographers, but Allan will always be my favorite person to work alongside... (don't tell him I said that-haha).
Outside of weddings, I’m a proud cat mom to four rescue kitties, and while I’ll always be a beach girl at heart, I love calling the Hudson Valley home. It’s a pretty amazing place to live — and an even better place to tell love stories.
I remember enjoying sketching and looking at art and photography from a very young age, but no one in my family worked in a creative field, so I never considered it a possible career. When I got money from my Bar Mitzvah, I bought my first camera and two lenses — and that really started it. I was never the “camera club” kid. Tennis was my main passion growing up, but I’d read photography magazines, try things out, and execute what I learned. I always seemed to have a knack for it. I also always had jobs as a teenager, which meant I could afford film and processing.
I went to some college but never felt passionate about the paths I was exploring, including electronics (ironically, that comes back later). Instead, I worked a lot of different jobs, which ended up preparing me well for what came next. After living in Florida, I returned to New York and coached at a large junior tennis program, eventually becoming a manager. Because it was a nonprofit, fundraising was a big deal. I started bringing my DSLR (six megapixels — state of the art at the time) and sharing images with their publicist. I thought I was goofing off, so when I got called into the office I was nervous — until they told me my photos were helping bring in real donations and that I should be working with the publicist even more. That wasn’t so bad.
Remember those electronics? I had built a very fast computer for gaming, but it turned out to be perfect for photography. I also had a laptop with a CD burner, which meant I could hand over images that could be in the newspaper the very next day. At the time, that was a big deal.
Around then, a cross-country phone romance with Vicki turned into an engagement. While we were engaged, we took a long RV trip across the country, visiting national parks and photographing everything along the way. I was experimenting with different genres and enjoying all of them, but I quickly realized I was a people person. Every great outdoor photographer I admired was also a serious outdoorsman — and I’m an urban kid from the Bronx.
Back in New York, we attended a friend’s wedding. I noticed their photographer had impressive gear, assistants, and lighting, but kept stopping the couple during entrances and exits. I leaned over to Vicki and whispered, “Can you do that?” She said, “I guess?” I stayed in my seat shooting high-speed black-and-white film, trying to be discreet, and went through five rolls. Vicki took a few shots, and we were both blown away by the experience of a big New York wedding. A month later, our friend told us they didn’t buy anything from their photographer — they were just looking at our photos. I felt a little bad… but also took note.
People started asking me to photograph their weddings. I realized I had great gear, I was comfortable under pressure, and I’d already photographed mayors, public figures, and live events with dozens of other photographers shooting at the same time. I could hand Vicki a camera and let her swing for the fences. It made sense. We said yes, and it grew from there. Learning photography across many genres before weddings ended up making weddings feel like a glove that already fit.
When we arrive on a wedding day, especially during getting ready, we’re not invisible — and pretending to be would be strange. So I read the room. Some people are busy, some are nervous, some want direction, others don’t. People worry about how they look before hair and makeup are finished, and sometimes it helps just to show them an image on the back of the camera. I might guide things gently, or I might simply let moments unfold while Vicki focuses on details. Either way, that early time together helps people relax and forget the camera is there.
Whether it’s details happening naturally or set up intentionally, I’m comfortable either way — but my preference will always be for what feels real.