Gear:
Sony a7R iii 24-70 2.8
Sony A7R iii 16-35 2.8
Godox v1 flash
Olympus stylus point and shoot

Coverage: 1 photographer + 1 assistant // 3 Hours

Photographer: Koko King

“One thing I was very intentional about throughout this shoot was not making the lighting too perfect. I actually wanted it to feel a little rough, almost like the imperfect lighting you might encounter in someone’s home or in a candid moment captured late at night.
I think as photographers, we can sometimes become so focused on creating technically perfect images that we forget how much character can come from imperfection. For this particular story, overly polished lighting would have taken away from the feeling I was trying to create.

I wanted the images to feel honest, cinematic, and a little unexpected. As though you were catching glimpses into someone’s life rather than watching a carefully constructed photoshoot.

For me, that’s where the magic of storytelling in photography really happens.”

Something else I really love about this particular composition is the separation between the two subjects. She’s outside, seemingly completely unbothered, enjoying this absurd little moment on her own, while he’s standing above her, watching from inside the house. There’s a physical distance between them, but also a connection through his gaze. Is he admiring her? Confused by her? Concerned? Who knows! Haha. I love that we can’t quite tell. The architecture of the house also played a huge role in how I composed this photograph. I wanted to use the windows almost like separate frames within the image, allowing two different moments to exist simultaneously.

The warm interior lighting contrasts with the darkness outside, creating this interesting divide between their two worlds. Even the illuminated room downstairs adds another little piece of information without actually explaining anything.

I also chose to shoot quite wide because I wanted the house itself to become part of the narrative. Had I photographed this tighter, focusing only on the two subjects, I think we would have lost so much of the atmosphere. The negative space, the architecture, the darkness surrounding her, and the illuminated windows all contribute to that slightly cinematic, almost voyeuristic feeling, as though we’re standing outside witnessing a scene we weren’t necessarily meant to see.

From a technical standpoint, the lighting was once again incredibly simple. She was illuminated using the modeling light from a Godox V1, while he was lit with a separate handheld modeling light. I intentionally left the light on in the downstairs room to add depth and dimension to the photograph. That small pocket of warm light helps balance the composition and gives the viewer another place to explore.

And yes, this was photographed at ISO 20,000 (lmao), and yes, I absolutely used AI Denoise afterward, haha! I believe I was shooting at f/8 with a 16mm lens.
For me, the technical imperfections weren’t something I was particularly concerned about. In fact, I think overly polished lighting would have taken away from the atmosphere. I wanted it to feel like a real moment, something slightly strange that you might happen to witness while walking past someone’s home late at night.

One thing I particularly like about these is the interaction between the two subjects, or almost the lack of interaction. She’s completely focused on what she’s doing, while he’s standing there smoking a cigarette, seemingly observing the situation. There’s something very cinematic about their body language. It almost feels like a still from an independent film, where you’ve walked into the middle of a scene without knowing what happened before or what comes next.

Compositionally, I wanted to bring the viewer right into the action, which is why I photographed it from the perspective of the open engine bay. The car takes up a significant portion of the foreground, giving the image depth and making you feel like you’re standing right there with them. I also love how the open hood naturally frames the subjects and creates this slightly enclosed, intimate little scene.

For the lighting, we kept things very simple. She was illuminated from the side using a modeling light, which helped bring attention to her face, hands, and the drill without making the scene feel overly produced. I wanted to preserve the existing ambient light and the cooler tones of the environment because they contributed to that slightly gritty, cinematic atmosphere.

As with the other images from this series, I wasn’t interested in making everything look perfectly polished. I wanted the lighting to feel believable, almost as though someone had just happened upon this moment and photographed it.

I think what makes this image work for me is that it’s both ridiculous and strangely believable at the same time. There’s a little bit of fashion, a little bit of documentary, and a little bit of humour all existing within the same frame.

Ultimately, I wanted to create something that makes you look twice. Something that feels like there’s an entire story happening beyond the edges of the photograph, even if you never quite figure out what that story is."

I knew I wanted her to look interested in something outside the frame, almost as though she’d noticed something happening down the street. Rather than simply asking her to look in a particular direction, I used the dog to create that moment. I called the dog toward me and asked her to look just over its head. It gave her gaze a sense of purpose without revealing exactly what had caught her attention.

I think that’s such an important part of storytelling in photography. Sometimes the smallest details, like where someone is looking, can completely change how we interpret an image. Suddenly, the viewer starts wondering what she’s looking at, why he isn’t paying attention, and what might be happening beyond the frame.

These were photographed entirely with natural light. Since we were still early in the evening, I wanted to take advantage of the remaining daylight before moving into the darker, more artificially lit scenes later in the series.

I was also very intentional about keeping the cooler tones in this images. It was an overcast day, and rather than trying to warm everything up or make the light feel more flattering, I wanted to embrace the natural blue and grey tones of the environment. I knew that as the story progressed and we gradually moved indoors, we would start introducing the warmth of the interior lighting.

I loved the idea of using that transition from cool to warm as another layer of storytelling throughout the series. The cooler, slightly detached feeling of the exterior scenes would gradually give way to the warmer, more intimate atmosphere inside the home. It was a subtle way of creating a visual progression, allowing the colour and lighting to evolve alongside the narrative rather than treating each photograph as an entirely separate image.

“I’m very decisive when I’m shooting. I generally know which areas I want to use, how I want to compose the frame, and what I’m trying to communicate before I even pick up my camera. Of course, I’m always open to spontaneous ideas or something unexpected catching my eye, but I don’t spend a lot of time second-guessing myself.”

I also don’t believe in overworking a scene. Once I feel like I’ve captured what I envisioned, I move on to the next frame. I don’t need to take 100 variations of the same photograph just to feel confident that I’ve gotten the shot. Sometimes it’s only a handful of frames before I’m ready to move on.

If I had more time, would I explore certain compositions or locations a little longer? Absolutely. There are always other perspectives, lighting possibilities, and little moments worth experimenting with. But I also think there’s something really valuable about working within limitations. It forces you to trust your instincts, make decisions quickly, and focus on what’s actually important to the story.

As wedding photographers, we’re VERY familiar with not having enough time! Haha. We’re constantly working around timelines, changing light, unexpected delays, and a hundred other moving parts. You learn to assess a space quickly, recognize an opportunity, and execute without overthinking every little detail.

I think that experience has really shaped the way I approach editorial work as well. Even when I have complete creative freedom, I still carry that same sense of urgency and decisiveness into a shoot.

For me, it’s not about how much time you spend creating an image. It’s about knowing what you want to say with it.

Get the shot, trust yourself, and move on. There’s always another story waiting in the next frame.

“My biggest piece of advice is to embrace fear.

I think we often misunderstand fear as something negative, something that tells us we’re not ready or that we shouldn’t do something. But I actually see it as the opposite.

Fear exists to prepare us. It encourages us to think, assess, plan, organize, and consider things we might otherwise overlook. It’s our body’s natural response to uncertainty, trying to make sure we’re equipped for whatever comes next.

I’ve learned to look at fear as a tool rather than an obstacle. When something scares me, I try to recognize that feeling as an opportunity to prepare, grow, and push myself beyond what’s comfortable.

And I think that’s especially important as creatives. If we only ever do what feels safe, we limit ourselves to what we already know we’re capable of.

So the next time you feel scared to try something new, take on a bigger opportunity, or put yourself out there, don’t automatically interpret that fear as a reason to stop.

Fear doesn’t necessarily mean you’re unprepared. Sometimes it’s the very thing encouraging you to prepare.

I genuinely believe fear can be one of our greatest gifts. It’s our body’s way of looking out for us, helping us become more intentional, more thoughtful, and ultimately more capable of succeeding.

So embrace it. Let it challenge you, let it prepare you, but don’t let it make your decisions for you.

Because some of the most incredible things we accomplish begin with something that absolutely terrified us.”

— Koko King