Our firm needed team portraits and editorial shots of two renovated homes. Dominic had our camera-shy partners laughing within minutes, and Serena caught the late-afternoon light across the millwork with zero distortion.
I had used the same cropped conference photo for eight years. Marcus steamed my blazers, Dominic coached tiny chin and shoulder changes, and seeing the tethered screen halfway through gave me instant confidence.
Matte-black coffee bags next to glossy cups usually means nightmare reflections. Serena dialled in soft overhead diffusion and tethered colour checks, and every roast label came out sharp and true for our wholesale catalogue.
Dominic worked the pit without once blocking the crowd, and the colour on our concert set is spot on under every gel. Only knock: weekend dates go fast, so grab one the moment you see it.
Our toddler skipped his nap and was in peak chaos. Dominic never asked him to sit still; he used movement prompts and chased the golden light instead. We ordered three framed cotton-rag prints for the hallway.
We wanted thirty family members round one candlelit restaurant table, not a big production. Dominic worked silently with prime lenses and sent twelve sneak peeks by Sunday morning. Every toast is there.
I needed an author portrait with warmth and quiet authority, not a corporate grin. Tina's retouching was wonderfully restrained — I still look exactly like my forty-six-year-old self, just rested and beautifully lit.
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