Wedding MVP? The photographer

Carly Daniel Street's photo studio is decorated in early joy.

The walls and pages of photo albums are covered in brides and grooms – beaming with undiluted, 100 proof happiness. These couples seem invincible to Monday mornings, co-conspirators against the world, captured at the instant before their feet touch the ground.

Spontaneous moments don't just happen. At the other end of the lens is the wedding photographer: directing the moves, pacing the action, always keenly attune to the family dynamics that drive the day.

A wedding photographer doesn't get do-overs.

That bride, skipping down the sidewalk and flashing her favorite heels? Shot from the median across the street, using a zoom lens. Street asked her to skip, and then instructed her husband to catch up.

"After the wedding, the flowers are dead and the dress is packed up," notes Street, 28. "The only thing you have is the photography."

She has attended about 700 weddings, not counting her own, and she's pretty much seen it all since she started her career.

At age 10.

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We met in 1997, when I wrote an article about kids doing grown-up jobs.

Carly, then 13, had been working for her father, Michael Kent Daniel Photography, for three years and was already his second photographer. She started shooting weddings by herself at age 16, and opened Carly Daniel Photography in 2006 in Huntington Beach.

You have to admire consistency.

"I love weddings; each one is different," Street explains. "Even if it's at the same location, it's still a completely different day."

She learned her craft taking table shots, those posed pictures of guests she says aren't really done any more. That figures, because I have an album full of them.

She would shoot maybe three rolls of 35 mm film, 108 photos. Today she clicks off 1,200 to 1,600 digital shots per wedding – not counting others from her second photographer.

Technology has advanced, but the essence of a wedding hasn't changed.

Street thinks of herself as a memory maker. It's all about capturing the emotion of the day – and she's not above a little manipulation to bring it to the surface.

"Capturing pure, raw emotion is huge."

She'll ask a father how he feels about his little girl getting married and – snap.

When the Dad delivers his toast, her second photographer shoots the father, but Street focuses on the bride to catch the interplay of emotions.

"Whenever she looks at that photo later, she will be taken back to that exact moment and remember the speech."

There is the bride-getting-ready moment, when her head pops through the top of her gown and she sees herself as a bride for the first time.

"If her Mom is also there, it's a tear fest."

There's the first look, before the ceremony, just the two of them. She's ready to shoot when the groom sees his bride for the first time.

"The man is caught off guard. These are some of my favorite shots; they are so emotional."

You'd think a wedding veteran would have the hide of a rhinoceros, but no, hers is more like a peach.

Street says behind her camera she cries at almost every wedding. It's the father-daughter dance that usually gets her.

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Not all weddings are flawless, and Street has seen it all:

One groom smashed wedding cake too energetically across the face of his bride, one gown was altered incorrectly and kept sliding south, one first kiss was a little too graphic.

Summer is rush hour for weddings, but this is also booking season for next year. Street has some advice I wish someone had given me:

Hire a wedding coordinator, a paid person you can order around while you enjoy the day.

Expect everything to take longer than you think. Corralling relatives, she says, can be "like wrangling a bunch of 4-year-olds."

Mostly, though, Street advises brides to choose their photographer considering more than just the price. Think of it as a relationship.

"The photographer will be in your face all day ... for hours and hours."

Street wants to shoot your engagement, your wedding and family portraits.

She shows her photos of a newborn and, pages later, photos of that same little girl walking with her little brother.

Psychology, she says, is more than half the job. Street tailors her approach to her clients.

Will the bride let Street into the dressing room? Will she sit on the grass or not even want to wrinkle that dress? She has to sense the undercurrents: Are the bridesmaids excited for the bride or bitter about having to shell out for a $300 dress they didn't choose? Are they up for acting a little silly?

She has to photograph the correct family groupings, not necessarily straightforward when weddings today can feature four sets of parents who separate like oil and water even when a wedding shakes them up.

Mostly, though, she says everyone in her photos needs to look good — and the bride needs to look gorgeous.

Personally, I don't remember every detail of my wedding 37 years ago last month, but my husband and I both remember the photographer with annoyance. He was constantly taking us away from our wedding to pose.

Immediately after this interview, I look at my wedding photos taken by a photographer my mother hired that I had never met: My grandfather in his plaid suit, my brother with his paisley tie and all of us posed like storefront mannequins.

We look happy, but hardly spontaneous. The ingredients are assembled, but they're missing the flavor of the joy.

The dress is packed up, the flowers are dead, and my photos are disappointing.

The only thing left is the marriage.