Interior of a cafe with a neon sign in Chinese characters, warm lighting, and a table set for dining, viewed through a window reflecting street scene.
Person taking a picture with a camera in a reflective surface, wearing a plaid jacket and hoodie.

Hey, I’m Keith Marrison—street photographer turned wedding documentarian, based in the glorious chaos of Oxfordshire. I spend most of my time chasing light, dodging tourists, and capturing real, blink-and-you-miss-it moments—both on the streets and at weddings. Turns out, the overlap is bigger than you’d think.

My background’s in street photography: people-watching with purpose, loitering with a lens, waiting for the world to do something interesting (it usually does). It taught me how to anticipate moments, read a room, and find beauty in the messy, unscripted stuff. Which, funny enough, is exactly what makes for brilliant wedding photography too.

Weddings are like street photography with better outfits and more prosecco. You’ve got movement, unpredictability, a hundred tiny stories unfolding at once—and my job is to catch them all without turning your day into a production. No awkward posing marathons, no cringey fake laughs. Just honest, editorial-style images of the good stuff: joy, connection, dodgy dance moves, and the little in-between moments that actually matter.

I shoot like a friend who’s just really handy with a camera. I blend in when I need to, step in when it counts, and deliver a gallery that feels like your day—not some over-directed Pinterest fantasy. My style’s documentary with an editorial eye: effortless, considered, and always focused on making you look and feel like yourselves (but on a really, really good day).

The goal? Photos that don’t just show what your wedding looked like, but what it felt like. The build-up. The buzz. The belly laughs. The weirdly emotional speech from your cousin who never usually speaks. The ‘oh god it’s happening’ glances. The afterglow. All of it.

And when the day’s over and your feet hurt and someone’s lost a tie and the cake’s half-eaten—that’s when the photos start doing their real work. Bringing it all back.

And, trust me, they’ll be worth it.