A few days before 10 June 2023, the external feast of Corpus Christi, our former rector approached me and asked if I could photograph First Communions. He had already asked three other people, all of whom were unavailable. I was already committed to sing for Mass at a different parish that morning so I told him no, but that I knew someone who might be able to do it.
That plan fell through two hours before, leaving the parish with no photographer and me with a few frantic phone calls to make. I spoke to the director of music at the parish I was singing at and received permission to leave after singing the Sequence. The rector wasn't worried about it at all, "as long as we get pictures of the actual First Communions."
The Mass I was singing and the First Communion Mass were offset by fifteen minutes and I arrived at the Oratory during the Gradual. As a result, there are no photos of the children's procession or the beginning of Mass.
I had never shot in this church and hadn't done photography in any church setting in four years. I wasn't able to familiarize myself with the space at all. I didn't even know where I was allowed to stand - how close was inappropriate, how far back was too far to take a good photo. I told my Guardian Angel that he'd have to most of the heavy lifting for me and he delivered. I still entrust every Mass I photograph to him and to St. Veronica, and they come through for me without fail.
What caused me the most stress the entire time was not knowing where to stand for the actual First Communions. I have no photos of my own First Communion and the one thing constantly in the back of my mind was that I had to at least try to get decent photos for these children.
As the servers were receiving, the rector (not the celebrant at this Mass) came to the rail by the Epistle-side side altar and signaled for me to come over. “Stand wherever you need to. Just get the shot. Feel free to follow him down the rail if you want.” (I still can't believe the trust he had in my photography - other than a few phone photos, he had seen nothing to suggest that I knew how to use a camera - and my judgement!)
This will always be my favorite moment of the Mass to capture.
The rector's instructions to essentially "just do anything" were my sanity's saving grace. I still felt out of place and in the way, but at least now I had explicit permission to be both of those things. I figured that if anyone was upset by the sight of me crawling on the floor along the front pew, at least I had that to fall back on!
The first of many what I call "Guardian Angel photos."
I learned quickly that this space would make for some tricky editing. It's warm-toned on its own - orange and yellow walls, red carpet in the sanctuary, and the different vestment sets completely change how everything balances, sometimes in my favor and sometimes not. It was intermittently cloudy that day, making the light extra unpredictable. I've since re-edited some of these photos but they are presented here as I originally submitted them to show how my style has developed in the time I've been doing this.
It has pushed me as an artist in ways I never would have guessed. It's forced me to get comfortable being a little uncomfortable (when I'm crawling on the floor along the front pew), given me good practice dealing with unexpected problems on the fly (dead cameras, malfunctioning SD cards, etc.), and helped me learn the Mass more thoroughly than I ever thought I would.
I also have a new appreciation for the security of the Latin Mass. Every word is written, every move and gesture is directed; nothing is left to chance or preference. It makes my "job" so much easier; during the Mass itself I know exactly what will happen when, and when something is already so beautiful on its own, it's not hard to get a good photo.
I never thought I'd be one of the parish photographers, but of the many blessings the Lord has given me through this place, the opportunity to document the Mass and the sacraments is one of the greatest.