Ive done a few weddings before. They're no walk in the park, even if you dodge bridezilla, snag a killer venue, and shoot in perfect natural light. It's a constant hustle, being everywhere at once, with no room for retakes. You can read about how I shot the first one, in fact. This was different, harder in many ways. Let's go through the list:
1. Low light—it's dark. There is no natural light. Usually, you take what you have—but here, there wasn't much to take. Except...
2. A kaleidoscope of disco lights. You know what's worse than having no light and all of your shots being blurry? Your camera's auto-white balance mode wanting to commit seppuku from trying to balance about 30 different light sources producing shades of color you can only possibly see in Photoshop's swatch module. And the plot thickens...
3. A mix of no light, bad light, and hard light. Don't panic, you can handle this. You've got flash, right? Okay, never mind, the light changes every 2 seconds, and what was not-that-bad-of-a-scene a moment ago is now a complete utter mess.
4. But hey, maybe the venue can save it, no? Sure, unless you are living in a country that was ravaged by Soviets for 50 years and that has 50% of its dancing venues built during the time of the deepest communism. If there is something you can always depend on, it's the lack of taste of our last-century, rather-to-be-forgotten "brethren." When they decided to paint the insides, I presume the conversation went like this:
"How much red color do you want, comrade?"
"Yes."
5. You thought the list was over, buddy, right? Well, not yet, because next is a bad ventilation system. There is nothing better than having 200 people dancing, drinking, hugging, and sweating all in one poorly ventilated room without windows. Look, I am not a sharp dresser—call me a party pooper, but this time I only went in a collared T-shirt. After about 30 minutes inside, that kind of advantage became moot, and the only thing holding me back from going half-naked were the remnants of my decency.