Abigail Kirsch at Tappan Hill Mansion Wedding in Tarrytown, NY
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Nick + Carly
Fate is a problem for me because I believe in the power of our choices. I believe that it is our responsibility to put ourselves in positions to make good ones, and to learn from our inevitable bad ones. But sometimes the universe throws things like Covid or wild fires at us and our future is determined by forces out of our control. Nick and Carly’s decision-making and execution in the planning of their wedding showed that despite what fate had in store, their choices on how to celebrate their love would prevail.
The Storytellers NYC Wedding Band
Nick and Carly are one of those couples that can fit in with any crowd: class it up, dress to the nines, and listen to some world class jazz, or smash plastic pitchers on the dance floor—they take whatever the world gives them. Their wedding band, The Storytellers out of NYC, brought the effing house down. Carly’s dress and bright blue Manolo Blahnik shoes, Nick’s custom suit and Del Toro loafers—they were dressed to kill. RIP dance floor.
Trusting Your Upstate New York Wedding Photographer
Perhaps the most refreshing and empowering trait Nick and Carly showed on their wedding day is how much they trusted us. Whether it was for first look, family formals, or bridal party shots, we gave them options in terms of backgrounds, lighting, and locations, and they thought about it, discussed what was important to them, and then put the ball right back in our court. We will never under-appreciate this trust because it helps us do our job and will always produce a better product. We understand that our roles as photographers can be more advisory, contingent with what our couple wants, but to not only feel seen and heard, but encouraged and deferred to, fostered a beautiful relationship that made their wedding an absolute joy to document.
How to Choose the Right Partner
And it all comes down to the choices that we make. Not just for your wedding, but for the partner you choose and the life that you choose to lead. My brother was recently surprised when I told him that I was vetting Heather from our very first dates. Not just what does she like or what we have in common, but how will she behave in a tense situation, or what kind of mother she will be. You know, the small stuff. I just didn’t see a purpose in dating if I wasn’t looking for indicators of long-term personality traits. I knew I wanted a family some day, and while I enjoyed dating in NYC, I was constantly marrying short-term fun with long-term goals. I think I was sold the first time I saw Heather playing a silly game with a kid in a brewery. You just have to be looking for the things that you care about.
Or in the very wise words direct from Nick’s vows, “I chose you in New York when we first closed down our favorite little East Village bar…Here we are, more than seven years later and I choose you today. I promise to choose you again tomorrow. And I'll continue to choose you every day for the rest of our lives. You're my best friend Carly, and I love you.”
Vendors
Photography | Apollo Fields
Venue | Tappan Hill Mansion | Tarrytown, NY
Band | The Storytellers | NYC
Floral | Forever in Bloom | Kisco, NY
Dress | Country Way Bridal | Haddonfield, NJ
Shoes | Manolo Blahnik
Suit | Enzo Custom | Philadelphia, PA
Shoes | Del Toro Shoes
Watch | Omega Speedmaster
Rings | I.D. Jewelry | Diamond District | NYC
Invitations | Minted | Paper Source
Shuttle | Red Oak Transportation
Capa's First Birthday
Happy Birthday to my beautiful son, Capa, my constant reminder of how everything we experience in this life is relative. My previous 32 revolutions around the sun should’ve made the 33rd just another spin around the old block—but you have made every turn around the corner feel anew. Every week and every month you blew past a milestone like a road marker on a never ending highway. I’ll always remember the first time you opened your eyes in the bright winter light shining through the window, your eyelids creaking open like a pair of attic doors. How your smile has changed from a gummy smirk to your best impression of Michael Jordan with your tongue out, to a brief hillbilly phase, and now a hungry shark. The cliches and adages come true one at a time and the best I can do is watch in awe.
I can’t help but think of the way I am going to screw you up in one way or another, knowing full well that it is an inevitability. Every time I hold your hands to help you walk I flip through a rolodex of life advice in my head, finding fault in almost every single kernel. I can already see us playing catch in the backyard as I start in on a forced aphorism: “Well son, life is about balance–but not too much–because the real fun is on the extremes–but make sure you always come back to center–or at least try to, because nobody likes a square.” Then as we continue to chase mom around the house you let out a squeal–a release of an overabundance of joy and excitement that you simply can’t contain any longer– and I realize that parents are just people doing the best that they can do.
My childhood as one of six children in a household with divorced parents resembled a chicken coop more than it did a home. We all wandered around aimlessly, trying to find a direction or something to eat–yet here we are–years later and we all survived and turned out to be self-sufficient, albeit very different adults. Not a single one of us got nabbed by life’s proverbial hawks. So it’s hard for me to say, given my sibling’s similar circumstances, the best way a person can be an effective parent. The free-range method has seemed to work out for the Huies.
I can safely say that I will have more of a presence in your life than a chicken handler, Capa, even if it is at whatever cost that I cannot predict. It is our responsibility as parents to raise our children in the positive ways that we weren’t as kids with the hope of “giving them a better life than we had.” This is not to disparage my roots, my parents, or my childhood, all of which I am grateful for, but rather to gain clarity on what effective parenting will look like for my relationship to you.
I hope that the amount you have grown in your first year creates a trend in your life, Capa. Not one borne out of mammalian physical necessity but one that reminds you when you’re my age that a plateau is your worst enemy. After the age of 30 people jokingly say that they stop counting. I admit that at times I have gotten lost in the years, but thanks to you, my beautiful little reminder, I’m going to start again with one.
Crescent Beach Club Wedding Photos
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Alex & Kim’s Wedding
Palm trees, a blaring midday summer sun, and steel drums ringing in the distance. Fresh seafood, a tiki bar, and smooth sand disappearing into a gentle tide. At a glance you would think we were at a resort in the Caribbean, a place where shirts and shoes were optional. Instead, Alex and Kim’s family and friends bounced around cocktail hour in gorgeous dresses and tailored suits, plucking hor d'oeuvres from trays like berries from a wild bush. Far from the Caribbean and close to our home, Heather and I were soaking in the experience at the Crescent Beach Club in Bayville, Long Island.
We first met Kim and Alex at a brewery in Huntington to talk over their wedding details over a couple beers. I remember how quickly we got to sharing stories and laughing, enjoying a comfortable conversation that usually takes a glass of wine or two to get to at a dinner party. As a couple, they just kind of get it. They are consummate professionals, thoroughly enjoy one another’s company, and ask the right questions. They are no bullshit in the best way possible--meaning--they like to have fun but they get shit done.
Kim and Alex aptly met at a quintessential Halloween dance party sponsored by the student bar association while studying at Villanova Law School. It still surprises me how fickle romantic beginnings can be. Kim and Alex, like Heather and I, so easily could’ve never been a thing if Alex and I hadn’t taken our respective relationship initiatives. “Kim did the mature thing that any self-respecting, young 20-something does the next day in class: ignored Alex and pretended she had never seen him before in her life. Luckily Alex had more maturity (or less self-respect) and immediately approached Kim to ask her to go out to dinner a few nights later.” Moral of the story? Shoot your shot and go to professional parties that serve free booze.
At the end of the night Heather and I first met, I walked her home to her apartment on West 105th street. When we stopped at the corner and she said, “well, this is me,” I told her how nice it was to meet her and that I would love to see her again. She quickly replied, “me too,” before nervously doing a 180 and began to walk away. Now, if I hadn’t been a little tipsy and characteristically overconfident, I would’ve just taken that gesture as a rejection. Instead, I blurted out, “hey, you know, your phone number would be great for something like that,” and lucky for me, she turned around as I handed her my phone.
That one line was the difference between going our separate routes in life and winding up in Jamaica together on our honeymoon. I still remember that feeling of limbo--those uncertain moments when you’ve shot your shot and the ball is up there rattling on the rim. But in my experience, and I’m sure Kim and Alex would agree--we would all prefer sitting on a lounge chair on a beach, sipping on a cold beer while reading a book as steel drums ping-and-pang as leaves of palm trees sway in the wind--rather than not shoot at all, doing the 1-2 step at a law school Halloween party waiting for someone to ask me out to dinner.
Vendors:
Photography | Apollo Fields
Venue | Crescent Beach Club | Bayville, NY
Floral | Lindenhurst Village Florist
DJ | Variety Music
Dress | Stella York | Max Bridal
Suit | Joseph A. Bank
Rings | Brilliant Earth
Hair | GetxGlamorous
Makeup | Christy Ann Cosmetics
Invitations | Etsy | Magnet Street
Transportation | Mark of Elegance
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Central Park Wedding in Shakespeare's Garden
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Emily + David
Damn it feels good to be back! I’m finally beginning to feel like myself again after such a tumultuous year. With every conversation my mind is making new connections to old memories like fresh breaths of spring air. Heather and I are back on the road, this time with Capa’s squishy napping face in the seatback mirror. First stop, Emily and David’s intimate wedding at Shakespeare’s Garden in Central Park!
Like many other couples, Emily and David’s wedding plans changed several times, but their pivot to an intimate ceremony near Shakespeare’s Garden in Central Park struck all of the right chords. Tucked into a small picnic area directly behind the steps of Belvedere’s Castle, Emily and David’s ceremony was light, heartfelt, and honest. Small drizzles of rain dropped upon our heads but the clouds held off, creating an almost fantasy-like novel atmosphere of refracted light.
We strolled through Shakespeare’s Garden, stopping to take a series of photos in front of the blossoming tulips that bursted with color. We turned a corner and stumbled across a couple of surprised locals when Heather was clicking away on her Nikon while at the same time nursing Capa. “You are my idol,” one woman shouted, “You go girl,” said another. Integrating the development of our son into our business will be a constant give-and-take relationship, but it is one that we find deeply important as parents and partners.
We continued on through the paths between the trees towards Bethesda Fountain, where Emily and David first wanted to have their ceremony. A nice group of teenagers moved when they saw us beginning to pose them in front of the fountain--an act of kindness that I will never forget. Just as we were about to wrap the close shots of them at the fountain a gust of wind swept through and drenched Emily and David like a log flume at Six Flags. They laughed it off and began to dance and share space with one another on the side.
Emily’s dress was the perfect combination of class and comfort, as she was able to navigate the park and look absolutely stunning. David’s great smile and fun personality popped from the lapels of his grey suit as we moved beneath the terrace where there were a couple of quintessential New York City buskers. Heather encouraged Emily and David to take a moment and enjoy a dance in the spot where they wanted to get married, when suddenly one of the buskers began tenderly singing Lean on Me by Bill Withers, and the entire moment came together so serendipitously. It was impossible not to become emotional in a beautiful happenstance like that given all that Emily, David and all of us have been through this last year.
Emily and David went on to have a small reception at a local Irish pub where they spent a lot of time early in their relationship. I think everyone who has spent a good amount of time in NYC has their own Irish pub; maybe a year from now we can all go back and celebrate the one year anniversary when the warm spring air begins to smell like tulips again.
Team Apollo
In our favorite park (Central Park, duh!) doing what we do best.
Welcome, Capa: The Home Birth Story of Our Son During the First Snow
Apollo Fields | Lifestyle Photography | Home Birth with Gaia Midwives | Northport, NY
Welcome, Capa: The Home Birth Story of Our Son During the First Snow of the Year
I watched the moonlit blizzard from my living room window, trying desperately to get a couple hours of sleep before the midwives arrived. My lungs felt shriveled and dry, unable to expand my chest with each breath. Just then a pair of headlights slowed to a stop in front of our house, illuminating the whirling snowfall in its high beams. As I walked upstairs to put on my ski jacket and pants, I told Heather as she came out of the darkened bathroom, “the midwives are here.”
That’s the first moment that it felt real. That Heather and I were about to have a baby. I met our first midwife, Ashley, halfway down the driveway as I shoveled out a pathway. As she went inside to tend to Heather in early labor, my chest became tighter and tighter with every load of snow I heaved into the street. I’d like to say that I was out in the cold clearing my mind but to be honest I was just doing what I had to.
I had to clear a path for the midwives, their assistants, and our doula to safely reach our front door. I had to sit on the floor, watching as Heather writhed in pain laying on blankets on the living room rug. I had to let her interlace her fingers on the back of my neck, clench and thrust my head into her collarbone when she went to stand during transition. I had to sit by her side as she screamed and pushed Capa out of her and into a warm pool on December 17 next to the Christmas tree.
The entire labor, front-to-back lasted around 24 hours. The early hours of the day were dark and uncertain, but once daylight emerged the comfort of a warm home in winter shone through the frosted windows. Our second midwife, Michele, arrived in the early morning, and we began to hash out a game plan as I fried a few eggs over toasted bagels. Over the next few hours I napped, Ashley left, and Michelle guided Heather through the ebbs and flows of her contractions.
Around 2 PM Michele did something I would never expect. She left. She knew that Heather was a couple hours away from transitioning and jokingly said, “the way he went in is the way he’s gonna come out,” on her way out the door. Then Heather and I just laid there. On blankets on the living room floor like we were camping in a tent. We stared at one other and just sank into the moment. We were right there, and all Heather’s body needed was a little push. And then we kissed.
The next couple hours things ratcheted up rather quickly. Heather requested the entirety of DAMN. by Kendrick Lamar to be played from front-to-back. And then told me to turn it up. Heather began to go inward, working through the layers of pain in her mind, reverberating them across various octaves with her vocal chords. She seemed to be going deeper and deeper into her thoughts with every contraction. Our doula, Nancy, could not have arrived at a better time. She began coaching me to comfort Heather as Michele gave the cue to begin filling the tub.
The last centimeter of dilation violently yanked Heather’s body and mind over and over again. I cried as I watched her suffering. I know how strong she is and that made it even worse. At the same time I could also hear a tinge of positivity—a purpose behind her every bellow and moan—like she knew that every ounce of her pain was productive.
When Heather made it to the tub, she ‘ooed’ her way into the warm water. She felt the weight of Capa lighten as she kneeled, settling her forearms onto the tub’s inflatable walls. I sat a couple of feet in front of her face, again, watching as she pushed through the pain. I admired the fact that she faced wave after wave and kept showing up to face the pain head on. I passed her glasses of water as she chugged them down and frequently replaced the cold towel she pressed against her forehead.
Right about then our friend and photographer, Cait, slinked in through the front door almost unnoticed. She rotated around the room, past Nancy, Michele, and her midwife assistant, Farah, adjusting settings as the shutter on her camera fluttered. I kept my eyes on Heather. Every scream seemed to increase in volume and intensity as Michele and Nancy coached her to exhale down through her pelvis. I sat watching, astonished at her strength. “You can break your own water if you want, Heather, it’s kind of in the way—but I will not do that unless you want me to,” Michele said softly. Heather then gathered a breath, reached down, broke her own effing water, and pushed Capa into the world.
The first look on her face was surprise, like she couldn’t believe she did it. She says she didn’t need to see his face, immediately pulling him up to her chest, because she knew what he looked like. She held him the way a child holds a pet when they’re upset, clenching them with an almost desperate love. Given all that we’ve been through, the first word that came to Heather’s mind when we later talked about her birth experience was—healing.
We waited 17 minutes before clamping the umbilical cord to make sure that Capa got all the nutrients he could from the placenta. I ceremoniously cut the cord and after a few minutes of cathartic reflection, Heather stood up, got wrapped in a towel, and casually walked upstairs (I was so caught in the moment that I didn’t realize how badass this was). We climbed into bed together, staring at Capa as I opened a beer in celebration. Michelle followed shortly after to look over Heather and stitched up a second-degree tear.
We cried as we took pictures, and Cait snapped a few before heading out. We laid there in silence as we heard Michele, Farah, and Nancy shuffling downstairs, cleaning and packing up. After a few last measurements, the midwives left and Nancy came up with some oatmeal and tea. With the wind whistling against the windows, we cuddled together, a warm family on a cold winter night.
