I'm a destination elopement and micro-wedding photographer working across Switzerland, Italy, and wider Europe, from the Swiss Alps and the Dolomites to Iceland. For elopements, that includes experience design: I help couples find the right locations, shape the experience around what they want to do, and build a timeline that fits. For micro-weddings, I document the day as it unfolds, working alongside planners and venue teams. I've lived in six European countries - the Netherlands, Switzerland, France, Spain, Italy, Malta - and arriving somewhere new and figuring it out quickly became normal. Speaking six languages - Dutch, English, and Spanish fluently, with working German, French, and Italian - matters when arranging private field access with a Swiss farmer or working with a restaurant owner in Tuscany. My father was an artist. I grew up between galleries and mountains, and learned composition young. Switzerland and Italy aren't places I visit. They're places I've lived in. I work with a very limited number of couples a year, most of them from the US, Australia, Canada, or the UK, coming to Europe to elope or marry with a few guests.

My work sits between documentary and editorial: close enough to stay with what is real, considered enough to shape it into something worth returning to. Bright days come out bright. The colors you see are the colors that were present. When I shoot in black and white, it's because something in the frame asks for it - the scale of the landscape or the texture of a moment. Not a mood applied on top. It's better photography when someone knows the place - which direction the light comes from, which fields are private and how to get access, how a Tuscan afternoon differs from an alpine morning. Experience design builds on that knowledge and takes the guesswork away, so the two of you can simply be in it. That's what I'm there to photograph.

Before this, I worked as an art mediator in the Netherlands - presenting artists' work, organizing exhibitions. After my father passed away, helping present his work felt meaningful, but the pull to create something of my own was strong. Family photography came first. Then my sister's wedding photographer didn't show up. Covering her getting ready, the first look, and the ceremony shifted something. Large destination weddings came next, alongside elopements. The same pattern kept showing up: at weddings, couples were hosting, managing everyone else's needs. At smaller micro-weddings and elopements, they were just there. That's what drew me in. My husband and I eloped in Sedona with only a photographer present. We didn't exchange rings - we chose two sculptures of Persian dancers made by a Kurdish artist who'd become like family. Standing in the red rocks with no one else around, my husband made his vows. He's not a man of many words, but that day, he said all of it.

No long email chains or PDF planning documents. When something needs explaining - a location, how a day might unfold, what to expect when weather shifts - I record a video instead. Usually with a map or photos on screen. A few minutes where you can hear the thinking out loud. Couples tell me those videos are when it starts to feel real. Watch when you have time, wherever you are. Some couples reach out when something sparks a question. Others prefer to talk things through as we go - entire elopements have been shaped over calls across time zones at odd hours. Either works. I ask detailed questions early on about the landscapes you're drawn to, the pace you want, how private or adventurous the day should feel. By the time you arrive, the only thing left to do is be there.

Hearing someone say their elopement or micro-wedding was everything they dreamed of - and that the photos take them back to that moment so easily. The recognition has meant something too: judging the tenth Elopement Legend Awards in 2026, Junebug Wedding's Best of the Best Wedding Photography in 2024, Best of the Best Destination Wedding Photography in 2025 and 2026, and six Elopement Photography Awards wins.

A couple came to the Dolomites for a vow renewal. She's a photographer herself, so she understood what goes into a day like this. They'd had a traditional church wedding years earlier with scripted vows and had never spoken words of their own choosing to each other. They wanted that. They landed in Italy with their wedding attire and no luggage - hiking gear lost in transit. Instead of rushing into the mountains, they stayed near the airport and waited. By morning the bags arrived. We'd planned for Seceda, but summer heat made that hike too exposed. I suggested Cadini di Misurina instead - less crowded, better for the temperature, dramatic limestone without the tourist traffic. They were up for it. We started with a first look high above the valleys. Before the ceremony, they sat at Lago di Braies and wrote down the vows they'd never had the chance to speak. They read them to each other, holding hands. As the sun dropped, we hiked toward Cadini to catch the last light. At twilight, they lit lanterns. That's the kind of couple I work best with. Flexible, present, up for what the day actually offers. All couples are welcome, regardless of race, sexuality, religion, or disability.

Yes. Elopement photography averages around €8000, and micro-wedding photography starts around €6500. Payment is split across several installments between booking and your date, with the schedule adjusted to your timeline.

The variety. One week, hiking to a mountain lake at sunrise with a couple who trained for months to get there. The next, a picnic in a meadow for two people who want nothing more than to sit in warm grass. Another, a micro-wedding where family and friends hiked together across the border between Austria and Italy to reach the ceremony spot. Or a ceremony close to the hotel where everyone was staying, before the whole group moved on to a wine tasting among the vineyards of the Val d'Orcia. Then a helicopter landing on a glacier, a boat ceremony on a turquoise lake, dancing under stars at midnight. What gets me every time is when everything clicks - the light is right, the couple stops thinking about the camera, and the day reveals something neither of us saw coming. That moment when someone exhales and you can see it: this is exactly where I want to be.

Surselva and the Aletsch region of Switzerland. Surselva is where my father painted - the valleys and ruins I spent time in as a child, and where my family spent the summer of 2025. The Aletsch region is where we lived in 2024, in a cabin with no road access just under the Eggishorn. Both are quieter, less visited parts of Switzerland than Grindelwald, Lauterbrunnen, or Zermatt. I know which trails stay empty and how the valleys shift through the seasons. I want to bring couples to the landscapes that shaped me.