Thanks for your interest in my work! I’m available for all types of photography, but most folks have questions about about my wedding rates and availability.
Drop me a line for pricing, but I'd like to say upfront that my rates are the same for weddings big and small, in summer or winter, and on any day of the week, and my photography is all-inclusive: Clients receive polished, high-res, rights-released files via direct download.
I shoot with an organic, narrative style. Most couples who choose me value my experience in photojournalism and my pursuit of honest, candid images. I’m friendly, straightforward, and very serious about my job.
Max Cooper Photography is LGBTQ+ affirming and all-inclusive.
Availability is limited and constantly changing. Use the form here to see if your date is still open, or drop me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org.
See below to hear what past clients have to say and to learn more about me!
Praise from Clients
Emily, married in the summer of 2018:
"Max is the kind of photographer who will produce timeless photos you want your grandkids to see. ... Max’s photos are truth tellers, detailed artifacts, studies of the true nature of things. He is a philosopher. His photos are fantastic."
Beth and Katya, summer 2018:
"This photo is exactly why we chose you. Unconventional composition, captivating lighting, and truly skillful capacity to capture candidness. We felt so many things that day, and you documented all of them in your own beautiful artistic way."
Sarah and Mari, married in fall, 2016:
"We chose you because of your photojournalism background and an online portfolio that was honest, emotional, and a bit atypical (and also contained proof of other queer ceremonies, a must). And the photos we love most are the small details through unexpected perspectives and candid moments with striking lines and light - not the posed “wedding photography” ones! What a meaningful way to share one’s gift and a humbling opportunity to share in a family’s most tender moment."
More about Max
I'm super passionate about my work, and I hope it speaks for itself . . .
That’s another way of saying I’m shy and feel awkward writing about myself. Photography is my native language--its how I best express myself--but a bunch of selfies won’t tell you the whole story of who you’re working with, so here goes:
I’m an old-school art and news photographer who has found a niche shooting weddings in my shockingly-gorgeous mountain town of Asheville, NC. I spent my formative years in darkrooms and newsrooms, where I learned a lot about photography and people and that the best photographs are of people. People experiencing great moments in their lives.
Since then, it’s been a constant pursuit: How can I put myself in these moments? I’ve got awards and degrees (well, one degree) and experience and qualifications, but none of those matter if I’m not in the moment. The best light and the best gear mean nothing if you aren’t there with your subject, shutter open on their emotions and expressions and gestures. That’s where the photos are.
I never set out to shoot weddings. The shift happened gradually. One day I realized that the work I was shooting for myself--the tearful joy of a couple, the pride of a parent, the curiosity of a baby--was more full of these moments than the work I was shooting for newspapers and magazines. In the end, the parts of life that matter don’t happen in board meetings and street protests. The things we remember happen with our loved ones, those close to us, in a church, or a courthouse, or a small gathering by the river.
Along the way I had a few moments of my own. I married my high school sweetheart and we adopted an ungrateful cat. When the cat was still alive a few years later, we realized we might be ready for more, and soon our boy Atticus came along.
That’s when the moments got kind of scary. Our son was born early and had a lot of fearsome stuff to deal with, but scarier than that is how fiercely we love him. Except for the cat, who mostly just tolerates him.
So these days I raise my son and chase moments. A lot of times those endeavours overlap: Atticus can make a moment out of anything. And sometimes, when maybe I’ve had too many moments for one day, I chase trout in our mountain streams and fancy myself an adventurer.
But even alone in the woods, I still find moments. Or they find me. So I take a camera there too. Life is short and beautiful; every photo should be a white-knuckled grip on a moment.