Blown away. Not by the wind, but by the passion that Lida and Elsabe who will host you and your guests at Leipzig Country House have for their venue. They are hospitable, warm, friendly and full of stories about the estate. Legendary stuff. (You get the feeling that Lida has many, many tales to tell of Leipzig, it’s history and the cargo it holds within its boundaries.) The rooms are spacious, elegantly decorated and very comfortable (good beds, crisp linen, desk, couch – well thought through, very nice indeed).

Take a walk outside and you’re not exactly limited as far as your wedding photography goes either. There’s an old slave bell, horse wagons from the turn of last century, vineyards, gravel roads, old buildings, Cape Dutch architecture, oh, and a couple of mountains that rise up rather steeply pretty much everywhere. Inside, the venue itself is no less intriguing. I’m not too sure how to actually explain it, but let’s just say that the new building seems to have been built around the old walls. So you see the new and the old together. Then there are the beautiful paintings that adorn the various walls. I can’t explain this – you actually have to go and see for yourself. But I’m warning you – visit Leipzig and be prepared to book because you probably will. Here are their contact details for you:

Tel: +27 (0)23 347 8422 | Fax: +27 (0)86 295 5116
Email info@leipzigcountryhouse.co.za

Remember Michan and Emile – they of the famed Jonkershoek ‘couch’ engagement shoot? Welcome to their wedding. So how did this wedding go off?  Well, Michan and Emile decided to do the brave thing and have their photos taken before the actual service. It worked out brilliantly as we took  a 45-minute trek around the Leipzig Country House estate, blowing off steam and any nerves before heading down the aisle for a vow or two, some rings and that infamous’ first kiss. The boys were a bunch of all-round good guys – giving it the ‘blue steel’ look while our bride and bridesmaids were simply SUPER-EXCITED (private wedding joke, you had to be there I’m afraid). Then it was off to the service (held in the old brandy cellar on the estate). I really liked Michan’s marshmallows dipped into hot chocolate sauce idea to keep the guests going as we did the family photos. But let’s head into the reception shall we? All the official bits and pieces done, this wedding turned into one wild party. (This is the part where this could start to go belly-up, but I’ll try and hold it together and keep it R rated).

So… First dance? All good – Michan got through it in style. Second, third and fourth dances? Keen guests started giving it their best shot. Dances 5 – 50? A bit like aerobics on steroids actually. And then, just when you thought it was all over… karaoke time.   And this mob gave it absolutely EVERYTHING. And I mean EVERYTHING. And I can promise you one thing. No matter what they say, these guys cannot sing. At all. They’re absolutely bloody aweful.  But nobody cared, because the point was all about having a good time, which I’m confident they succeeded in achieving.  So it was a win-win situation all round as ‘The Concert in Leipzig’ set the outskirts of Worcester alight.

Helen and I left early the next morning for another wedding shoot. Needless to say, our karaoke kings and their groupies were still sound asleep – and I reckon would be for a good few hours more!

Kids at weddings. ah, what a wonderful subject. Not for the fainthearted I tell you. They’re just full of surprises – good surpises and very, very bad surprises. They’re either eliciting ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaaahs’ from your guests as they trundled unsteadily down the aisle, or they’re bringing the entire house down with ‘look mommy, that lady is wearing a funny hat with apples in it,’ just as our gorgeous bride hits her stride down the aisle. Never ever a dull moment with the younger set around I tell you. I personally love kids at weddings – they add the very unexpected and it’s a photographers dream. I’ve seen children at weddings doing all manner of things, each time pulling off yet another masterstroke at completely upsetting the proceedings. I’ve seen them asking the minister why he’s wearing a dress, I’ve watched them asking the bride when the baby is coming, I’ve heard them shout out ‘boooooring’ (I kid you not), and I’ve watched them make speeches so amazingly full of love that it I’ve wondered why the entire world isn’t just left to them to run. So here’s the deal – if you want children at your wedding, go for it, but expect the unexpected, because it WILL happen. Somewhere, somehow during the course of your wedding day that little 3 year old is going to have a pretty inspirational moment and somebody is going to be on the very marvellous receiving end of it. But you can ‘manage’ those mini-missiles to a degree. Here’s how – I think…

Hire a babysitter. It’s not going to cost you that much is it? Almost everyone knows a lovely nanny who is great with kids. So hire her! She’ll feel a part of the proceedings and she’ll welcome the extra money. And throw in a gift as well – she’ll hold it dear forever.

Put a little time aside for kids photos. Children are naturally theatrical. Set 10 minutes aside for your photographer to capture them doing their thing during the formals and if he’s any good at his job, he’ll blow about 30% of their inherent energy package in one go. And you will seriously love the photos.

Include the kids during the dancing. When children feel an ‘expression session’ coming on best you stand back because they’re going to hit that dance floor hammer and tongs. Include them, dance with them, love and hug them. More energy gone.

Set a kiddies table. Kids are not little adults, they’re kids. And kids all love the same sort of things – bubbles, balloons, masks, crayons, fiddly stuff that will capture their imaginations. Make their table exciting for them and they’ll play themselves into a coma. Oh and try not to feed them snails as a starter – give them food that they love. Then, when it all gets too much for them, our legendary babysitter can whisk them off to a room with a… TV. The smaller one’s will hit the sack, the bigger one’s will watch TV until they just can’t anymore. Sleep tight. Job done.

]]> http://www.warrenwilliams.co.za/2010/08/kids-at-weddings/feed/ 1 http://www.warrenwilliams.co.za/2010/08/saskia-buxton/ http://www.warrenwilliams.co.za/2010/08/saskia-buxton/#comments Mon, 02 Aug 2010 10:06:16 +0000 Warren http://www.warrenwilliams.co.za/?p=2777

As you can well imagine make-up is a somewhat important part of your wedding day. There’s just no substitute for someone who knows how to make you look good. So I’m really happy to be able to introduce you to a young lady who I’ve known since she was a little nipper and who is now on the road to becoming a darned fine make-up artist. Her name is Saskia, and believe me, she’s found her calling in life! I spent an afternoon with Sask and some of her mates to shoot her make-up portfolio for her and it was well worth the effort. Sask goes about the knitting really professionally and showed incredible maturity in her overall approach. In fact, she impressed me enough for me to confidently put her on my website and recommend her services to you. She’s still getting her own website together so for now, if you want to get hold of her for her packages, just give me a shout and I’ll put you in contact with her. Trust me here, she’s definitely worth considering.

Vineyards, a long gravel driveway, old wagons, wide-open paddocks, a bridge, a huge fallen down oak tree, an old African-styled rondavel and we haven’t even arrived at the main venue yet. Welcome to Nelson’s Creek where the hosts are warm (as is the weather), the food is good and the general ambience is pretty darned good. I really enjoy shooting at Nelson’s Creek not only due to all of the above, but also because every time I go there I feel very welcome and I see bride, groom and guests always having a good time. There are a few options to choose from here. The Mountain View Room seats about 400 people, so if you’re looking at a (very) large wedding, there you go. Ditto if you’re looking for a dance-floor where you can really spread your ‘Saturday Night Fever’ wings. Then there’s the Lapa Hall which seats some 130 people, or the Old Cellar for the more intimate 60-guest version. Now… if you want to get married at the venue itself, for goodness sake, do it outside. The lawn is huge, mountains surround you and it just all feels so very right. Is it good for photographic opportunities? Sure is. No major obstacles on that side. In fact, it’s great for photos because there always seems to be something else to discover as you wander around. Oh, one last thing – there’s accommodation too which is rather handy. If you’d like to see a few photos of a wedding I’ve shot at Nelson’s Creek, then click here. I’m not going to ramble on, why not give Olivia a call on 021 – 869 8453, or e-mail her on olivia@nelsonscreek.co.za Tell her I sent you their way so that I at least look marginally good!

As you can well imagine, I really wasn’t looking forward to shooting Robyn Roberts’ 2010 Bridal Gown Collection. Not with the prospect of having the incredibly dodgy looking international model Sophia (who hails from beautiful Sweden) wearing the dresses. Anyway, I managed to pull myself out of bed and head on over to Robyn’s place for the shoot. So there we were – Sophia with the dodgy looks, me yawning at the prospect of it all, some coffee, some cheese & tomato sandwiches and some wedding dresses strung together by Robyn and her designers. But I need to explain something to you here -  wedding photographer or not, I’m still a man, and dress designs are not THAT important to me. A cold beer is a lot more appealing. But when a girl with Sophia’s dodgy looks steps into a dress created with Robyn’s flair, the beer can wait – until next year if need be. Because flatten me across the head with a rolling pin people, Robyn’s dresses are magic. Between herself and her designers Michelle and Valentia, they’re doing something very right. I nearly spilled coffee all over myself as Sophia walked around the corner for the first time in ‘dress number 1.’ When you see these dresses ‘in real life’ you’ll know what I mean – they’re incredible. I needed no more motivation and I don’t think Sophia did either as she stepped into flipping amazing dress after amazing dress. Oh, did I forget to mention that our dodgy looking Sophia has the dodgy personality to go with her looks – boy, did we do a lot of laughing. Can’t wait to work with her again! Anyway, here is a small sample of some of Robyn’s latest range. It might actually be a fine idea to set up a meeting with Robyn so that you can actually see and feel her dresses first hand – I think you’ll find the exercise worthwhile. Call her on 021 – 686 1378. You’ll be glad you did. And when you have your Robyn Roberts dress organised, call me to shoot your wedding – you know you wanna!

I’ve known Phil Thompson for far longer than I actually care to remember. It’s so many years that when I was working it out I got a bit of a shock. So we’ll leave it there. He’s a bloody fine chap – toughest rugby player I ever saw. You couldn’t put the bugger down. Phil played Maties Eerste Span ou perd, so I guess he had to be tough. But he actually decided to soften up, get married and have kids. The result is gorgeous, lovely Lee (the better half), and two very cool and very cute kids (Matthew & Nicholas). Matt started off deciding that this was the shoot he’d pull as many faces as possible. Just as I was about to pull him aside and threaten him with a Near-Death Experience he changed tack, becoming the perfect model (and I was psychologically damaged for the rest of the shoot). But there’s more. The rest of Phil’s family also decided to pull in for a bit of action! Anthea Thompson (actress extraordinaire – look her up on the Net), Gill (your bum doesn’t REALLY look better in those jeans Gill), Steve (my little male model) and families.

So there we had the whole mob, hamming it up for mom and dad’s 50^th (yes, you heard correctly) – 50^th wedding anniversary. Now I know Mr & Mrs Thompson Senior because they took a special interest in us boys as we grew up. So Mr & Mrs Thomo, if you ever read this, I hope you have a fantastic wedding anniversary, I hope these photographs bring you joy and pleasure, I hope you’re around for your 100^th anniversary (okay whoa, maybe not, youth must have its fling) – and finally, thanks for everything you every did for us scruffy little bums as we grew up over the years. Hip-hip…

I’d like to take a moment to deviate for once on writing about weddings. Instead, I‘d like to scare the wits out any couple about to get married. The subject goes something like this: ‘honey, whooose your mamma?’

So, what’s driven me to write this article? Simple – my wedding couples. I consistently ask them, no, I beg them, to pace themselves. And they consistently take my sage advice and wisdom and turn it on its head. From my point of view, this is how my relationship with my couples goes: I meet them, we get on well together, I spend the most important day of their lives with them, they go on honeymoon, I process their photos. They arrive back from honeymoon, we all get really excited about their photos and then we chat every so often via e-mail, or on Facebook, or on the telephone. Then comes the e-mail. ‘Hi Warren, just want you to know that we’re 6 months pregnant.’ Now let me get something straight here. ‘We’re’ not pregnant, YOU are pregnant. I wasn’t there remember. It’s YOU who are at fault here. I was the one who said, ‘take your time, go slow, no rush, live life a bit.’ But no, YOU were the ones who got all excited on honeymoon, or at the New Year’s Eve party, not me! So let’s drop the ‘we’re pregnant’ part of this. Right, now that we have our stories straight, I’m going to try and help prepare you for a bit of parenting.

Getting pregnant. Fun isn’t it? Whoo-hoo – party time! ‘Wham bam here I am’ and all that sort of thing. And then, one morning: ‘honey, I don’t feel all that good.’ Uh-oh. And so begins that most adventurous journey of all. Man, what a journey. What a wonderful journey, filled with aches, pains, headaches, Braxton Hicks contractions, swollen ankles and a husband who irritates you no matter what he does. Actually, it is an amazing journey, because you are indeed carrying something extremely special inside of you. The vomiting and so on is all just a bit of a sideshow and way too over-rated.

The birth process. Girls, suffice it to say that the birthing process is not supposed to be elegant. It’s not a fashion show and you are not required to look your best. It’s also unavoidable. So go in there and whichever route you choose, try and enjoy the experience and give it your best shot. The doc and midwife will do the rest. Chaps. Chaps, chaps, chaps, chaps. Pull your bottom lip up and over the top of your head. How does that feel? Super. This is what your gorgeous wife is about to go through (in a manner of speaking). Once she’s done and dusted, your attitude towards her is going to change forever, because to you she truly will become the greatest warrior on earth. Now, once your baby has arrived, hold the little thing, cuddle it, prod it, bend its nose to see if everything is real and in working order, then let your wife sleep (she’s pretty knackered right now). Go call your family and friends, light your cigar and drink a beer – your most creative work ever just touched down on planet earth. You legend you.

Going home. If you want sympathetic parental advice you’re not going to find it here! Parenting is darned hard work right from the word go. Your wife has to feed every few hours so expect her to be a zombie for a few months. Your once previously exceptional record of getting lucky 27 times a week is going to drop significantly so get used to it. Girls, your husband is going to feel severely neglected as you pay much more attention to the little one – be mindful of this – he’s actually a really good fellow. Your baby is going to wee, poo, fart and vomit on you. Get used to it, accept it, embrace it and watch your disposable income crash as your monthly nappy purchases go through the proverbial roof.

Growing up. Hide all hairdryers, paintbrushes, cosmetics, model boats, remote controls, wheelbarrows, hosepipes and pets. Oh, and hide all snack foods (toddlers put all popcorn and chips that they taste and don’t like back into the bowl it came out of – and a soggy chip isn’t that great when you pop it into your mouth as Bryan Habana goes over for his third try). In fact, hide everything. And pick up the dog poo or your kid will pick it up for you. With both hands. And bring it to you. Wherever. You. Are.

Starting school. School means you’re going to be properly busy and properly broke forever. In and amongst having to start doing homework (and projects again) literally every day, you’ll also be picking up and dropping off kids and their friends on average 7 days per week (multiply this by another 1 for every extra child you have and the proportions truly do go from the sublime to the ridiculous). Cubs, ballet, extra maths, music, rugby, hockey, tennis, netball, school braai, galas, athletics day, cake-sale duty, school play, camp out. And believe me, that’s just the start. The list goes on and the hours are long. If you ever thought you had the inability to multi-task, school is going to change that perception very, very fast. And these days schools are open Saturdays and Sundays. You think work is tough – try going back to school. Good-bloody-luck – you’re going to need it.

Teenage years. Go and look in the mirror. Remember what you used to be like as a teenager. Okay, now go look at your kid. That’s you, just worse sister. Opinionated, loud, sulky, pimply, trying, emotionally aloof, wild, frighteningly confident and expressive you. Love or hate the teen years, you’re going to learn a lot about yourself (like how much weight you’ve put on since you were sweet 16). Or just how ridiculous your stock standard response to why your teenage kid can’t go out this Saturday night sounds. You’re going to realize that being as honest, frank, straight-forward and open as the school Sex, sorry, Adult Education Guidance Counselor is a nightmare. In fact you sound like a nervous teenager yourself as you go through the drill of pointing out the ‘sexual perils in a modern world.’ The term ‘getting lucky’ is about to take on staggeringly scary proportions for you. And all the time the school is consoling you by simply saying that the kids are simply ‘finding themselves’ and ‘expressing their individuality.’ Nice. Rock on bro. One word of advice – when you open the front door, if the ‘dude’ standing there says: ‘howzit peeps, I’m here to pick up your number one girl,’ just close the door without saying a word and walk away. It’ll work, I promise.

It’s 7.30am on Sunday morning and I’ve got my whole mob snuggled under duvets in the back seat as we head off to shoot the Haasbroek family somewhere in the hills that surround Durbanville. There’s a distinct smell of egg sandwiches filling the car and Robbie drops a fairly honest comment about what those egg sarmies actually smell like! And there’s not much chance of opening the windows either because it’s pretty cold outside. Anyway, egg sarmies aside, we eventually reach our location – a bust and battered old farmhouse and there to meet us are the Haasbroek’s. Now I’ve shot a lot of kids and a lot of families in my time so I generally know what I’m in for. And yes, it can be quite scary stuff. Teenage girls all think they’re supermodels and generally each bring two suitcases packed with preening gear and clothes. Boys on the other hand rarely ever listen and if there’s a ball around you’re in danger of getting it firmly planted in the back of your head at some stage. But to my utter surprise this was not the case with the Haasbroek boys. In fact, they were actually quite well-behaved. Very strange, but true. So either dad arm-wrestled them into submission before the shoot started, or mom docked them a week of no Playstation or surfing if they didn’t listen up, because these guys made it a pleasure to actually go through the horror of a family shoot! Okay, there was a bit of tripping up, pushing, shoving and the odd fist flying through the air, but hey, boys actually do need to be boys. So nice work guys – and if you continue to grow up as cool as you are now, you can phone my daughters for a date anyday. Well, maybe. I’ll think about it.