Architectural Photography at Sea

2022 was a fertile year for personal and professional growth. Projects and bids came from every direction, and I was more than happy to bite off everything I could chew. Occasionally I’d run out of stuff to shoot. On those occasions, I created my own personal passion projects to keep my mind and body occupied. I am grateful to my clients for more than the financial and professional opportunities they provided. They kept me too busy to stare into the abyss during an interesting and transitional year of my life. 

The year’s capstone project was without a doubt being commissioned for the architectural photography on NCL’s latest modern cruise option: The Prima. I’ve been shooting architecture and interiors for NCL for about 6 years now. Our relationship started when I was still in Miami, and I am grateful that they still tolerate me enough to fly me out from Los Angeles. They are among my most valued clients.

The initial brief left no doubt in my mind. We were in for a gauntlet. “Perfect,” I thought to myself.  “ Wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

The shoot would span the course of two separate, two-week voyages on the ship that had my team stepping foot all over the world from Barcelona to Reykjavik to New York City.  We’d be shooting nasty stormy weather, have to work around the availability of spaces based on when we’d be least likely to inconvenience paying guests, and would deliver over 200 final assets, 60 of which needed to be edited before we got off the ship as they needed to go to press ASAP. 

No pressure. 

The Most Challenging Shoots Make Us Grow

A cruise ship is not your typical architectural photography shoot. I am a control freak. I am used to having command of a majority of variables: schedule, time of day, what lights to leave on/off, closing windows to control light spill and reflections, etc. I appreciate that level of authority from other clients significantly more when I am on one of my cruise shoots (I’ve done over a dozen at this point) because when I am on board, I am not the captain. 

A ship is a floating, self-sustaining city that prioritizes the safety, well-being, and experiences of paying guests over the marketing team on board. Every little decision requires a game of telephone and an act of Congress to get approved. 

Why is this relevant? Because it impacts preparation. I have to come packing with every tool in my kit simply because I don’t know what situations we’ll encounter.  Often times we have to shoot the space as is without being able to turn off lights or rearrange furniture since it’s often anchored or bolted to the floor to prevent it from sliding around in rough seas. Additionally, we don’t always get to shoot when the lighting is ideal, since many of the spaces are only available at weird, off hours when guests aren’t likely to be using them. We’re often left with no choice but to overpower the sun with flash and recreate the kind of motivated light that would exist in more ideal scenarios. 

And then we pray to the pantheon of post-production software like Photoshop.  More on that in a minute. 

A Network of Production Miracles

Arranging for us to even be on the ship at the right time is a logistical nightmare that requires thick skin for last-minute hiccups, communications with various port authorities who all have different interpretations of what laws and regulations need to be followed, and a willingness to endure last minute, asinine requests that contradict previous orders. I am more than happy to leave that up to the client, and wouldn’t wish that responsibility on anyone. But I felt it necessary to acknowledge the incredible, and at times absurd efforts, required on their part to make such a project possible before anyone even steps foot on set. It really takes a village.

The only legal hurdle I had to concern myself with was getting my expensive professional gear into various ports of entry. Most of us who travel with camera equipment are used to doing it for leisure. We bring some bodies, lenses, and maybe a tripod or two and call it a day. Maybe TSA flags your bag because your drone looks a little sketchy, but otherwise, we get on with our trips undisturbed. 

It’s different when you’re traveling for work and require an armory of flashes, light stands, and grip equipment.  For this job, we also had to bring a 27-inch monitor to edit with on the ship and to provide a better experience for client feedback. That kind of baggage tends to draw the attention of the various customs agents who would love nothing more than to tax you for bringing in what they perceive to be goods and services to sell because the value of all of this can easily exceed 30k.

I am used to it by now, but part of my preparation is arranging an international document known as a Carnet. It’s essentially a passport for your equipment. You get it activated and stamped at customs as you’re leaving the country. An agent will document all your equipment and make sure it matches what’s on the document, and you repeat the process each time you enter and exit a new country and once again upon your return to the US.

It’s a major pain in the butt that can add substantial time to your already stressed travel itinerary. It’s not uncommon to get off a plane or ship and be stuck in customs for an additional two hours. You might get an agent who just had an argument with his wife that morning and feels like taking it out on you by making you completely empty your cases and individually inspecting every piece of gear. Or, as is the case in smaller airports, they may not be familiar with the process and you might have to wait for the ONE guy in the department who knows what a Carnet is. I’ve had to educate them on the process to expedite it on several occasions. When we got off the ship in Iceland, it took two hours because they had ONE customs officer working that day…for the entire country’s ports. So we had to wait for him to drive to Reykjavik from a separate one. 

This process often feels like homework. You will hear me complaining about it to anyone willing to tolerate that noise. If you’re curious, It’s not unlike the tantrums I perfected as an 8-year-old being dragged by the ear to Catechism on Saturday mornings because it meant missing Power Rangers. But I digress. It’s a necessary evil. I don’t want to risk getting slapped with a ten thousand dollar tax bill, and even worse, I don’t want to look like a jackass in front of my client by showing up late to a production meeting because I was stuck in customs. 

Cruise Ship Photography Not Your Typical Architectural Shoot

Cruise Ship photography comes with its own unique set of challenges for architectural photography. Because of the functional restrictions required for it, like being buoyant and structurally fit to sail in the open ocean, the thousands of safety redundancies required, and the general lack of space, there can be some interesting design choices, to say the least. Nothing is ever symmetrical, so do your sanity a favor and give up on finding that perfect one-point perspective. It’s rare on these shoots. You’re often forced into unorthodox compositions that just would not work in a normal architectural setting. Spaces can have dozens of ugly callouts like fire sprinklers, speakers, multiple exit signs, etc. that all need to be removed in post. Almost every surface is reflective, which means, you guessed it, we spend a lot of time flagging and flashing reflections, and hours in Photoshop using frequency separation when it’s not possible to do it on set. And of course, there can be dozens of different light sources emanating at once that we rarely have the option to control/turn off, so post-work is often a kaleidoscope of color casts that need to be balanced or neutralized. 

We’re also limited by the fact that we don’t get to set the itinerary for the ship, what time we can shoot, or what the weather will be like, which means a ton of compositing. This requires an abundance of prep work on set and hours in post as you can almost guarantee that any space with a window will need to be replaced with an appropriate backdrop. Either beautiful, calm blue oceans, or warm inviting sunsets and twilights. It is not uncommon to shoot a lot of popular spaces on “port days” when the majority of guests will be off the ship. Often these include large venues like restaurants, pool decks, observation lounges, and certain higher-end luxury accommodations. What do they all have in common? Lots of large windows or exteriors with lovely views of the port for whatever city we’re docked in. Whether it’s Miami, Florida, or Bremerhaven, Germany, entire cityscapes need to become bucolic views of paradise. If it’s raining, we gotta figure out how to dry the floor, because only in the movies do wet streets make it more “cinematic.” 

Knowing your Audience

I would like to briefly highlight the difference in aesthetic preference and intention when you’re shooting for a hospitality brand versus an architect or other vendor. Architects want you to capture their art. They want to focus on the design, how it works, the way various textures complement each other, etc. Hospitality brands are selling experiences. Their priority is getting assets that will motivate people to drop a house downpayment on a luxury suite for ten days. It’s part aesthetic and part educational. That means sometimes shooting wider than what we’d normally shoot for an architectural shoot to show more context about the accommodations. When shooting with a more artistic approach, subtle imperfections can enhance an image. But for a widespread commercial appeal, they’re looking for a more polished, sterile aesthetic with just enough personal style to make it distinctive. But the priority is always guest experience and revenue. 

Think of the difference between a commercial and a narrative film. They each have their own distinctive looks. Films tend to be moodier, not necessarily “dark.” But if you look at the waveform of a shot from a film, a lot of the information can be found in the lower mid-part of the graph, even for daytime exteriors. It’s a moodier look. Analyze a shot from a commercial and you’ll see a much brighter overall look with much higher exposure values (See the images below for a reference). Neither look is “right” or “Wrong.” It’s just a matter of catering to your audience and your intention. 

I’d like to wrap this up by giving a special shoutout to my team. Did I mention these productions take a village? I wasn’t joking. My two lovely assistants: Aris and Gianna made my life so much easier, whether it was schlepping my gear miles a day as we walked to various locations throughout the ships, holding flashes in the freezing cold with 30mph winds, taking notes to reference later in post, or feeding me peanut M & Ms when I’d start to get cranky. You won’t find a couple of harder-working girls with amazing attitudes. And most importantly, my clients love them, which can’t be emphasized enough. Good assistants are an indispensable component of any successful shoot, which is why they are non-negotiable in my estimates. I simply can’t do the job without them. Any Architectural photographer will tell you that good assistants are worth their weight in gold.

If you’ve made it this far. Thank you. Please feel free to refer to the images throughout the article for additional details and context on how they were created. 

Dancing after the show: The state-of-the-art theater on the ship retracts its stadium-style seating to open up the dance floor. These shots were pretty simple. I parked my tripod on stage and just kept it in the same spot as the theater techs opened up the stage. All hands on deck to move the couches and loungers to make for a more aesthetic photo.