Proposal photographer on Madeira

Three ways people do this

As a normal couples session

You book a couples shoot. Your partner thinks it is a photoshoot, comes dressed for it and ready for pictures, and at some point during the session you propose.

They look the way they wanted to look that day. I work in the open, close to you, the same as any other session. Any location works, including small ones and busy ones.

Mike and Amelie did it this way at Praia Formosa. She had no idea until he was down on the knee.

A tourist photographing the view

I am at the spot before you arrive, and it looks as though I am simply a tourist photographing the scenery. The two of you walk in alone, and your partner does not suspect anything.

It needs a place with distance and no crowd, so the list of locations gets short.

For this version I recommend Ponta de São Lourenço and Miradouro do Guindaste. We agree on the start time individually, depending on the goals of the shoot and your wishes.

Sam and Katerina did it this way at Miradouro do Guindaste. I was out on the rocks before they parked.

As a stranger with a camera

We agree on the scene beforehand. I am already there, photographing for myself. You arrive, I walk up as a local photographer and offer to take a few frames.

Your partner meets me for the first time right there. Nothing was booked, nobody was waiting. A man with a camera liked how the two of you looked. We walk, I photograph, and at some point I say the line we agreed on.

This version has to be set up with me weeks ahead, and it needs a place with people in it. In the old town a photographer offering pictures is an ordinary thing. On an empty clifftop it is not.

Jack and Charlotte did it this way at the fort in Funchal. The whole story is below.

Jack and Charlotte, frame by frame

Jack and I agreed to play a scene. When they came into the old town, I would walk up, say I am a local photographer here, and offer to take a few pictures.

I was already at the place, photographing for myself. They arrived by taxi and came into the courtyard of Forte de São Tiago, looking around it. July, midday, sun straight overhead. I walked over, said the two of them looked bright, offered a couple of frames and suggested we walk.

On the way I asked Charlotte what photographs she likes and whether she liked the fort, the way Jack and I had assumed in our messages. She said no. She wanted palms, greenery or flowers behind her. So I improvised and looked around the old town for a background that would work.

As soon as it was found, I said our secret line: we have found the perfect place and good light. Jack took the box out at once and went down on one knee. Charlotte did not expect it. Her face says the rest.

It was tender and full of feeling, and a celebration at the same time. I like the moments when it all comes off, when the happiness is theirs and mine at once. After that a calm walk, and the session went on carried by it.

The frames are in the order they happened.

What they wrote afterwards

Keeping it a surprise

The place is never the issue. Your behaviour on the way is what keeps the secret.

A photoshoot is the cover story that holds. It explains the booked hour, the good clothes, the drive at an odd time of day, and the man standing there with a camera.

What keeps the surprise is an ordinary car ride. Talk the way you always do, let the ring box rest in your pocket until the moment, and one question about the shoot is enough. In my experience, when you both get out of the car relaxed, the rest goes the way we planned it.

When

We always agree on the start time individually, depending on the goals of the shoot and your wishes.

Sunset moves a long way across the year here. Around 18:10 in December, just past 21:00 at midsummer. In winter you propose and still eat dinner at a normal hour. In July you eat at eleven.

Overcast works well: Sam and Katerina had flat grey sky at Guindaste and the frames were better for it. On the ledge at Guindaste the camera faces east, so in the morning the sun is behind the couple and shines into the lens. The mountain to the west takes the sun off the ledge about an hour and a half before sunset, between one hour twenty and one hour forty-five, and after that the ledge is in soft, even shade. On a clear day the best light there comes about two to three hours before sunset.