How Motion and Energy Add Depth to Wedding Photos

There’s a photo I’ve taken in the Old Port of Montreal that people keep coming back to. A couple, running. The image has a blur to it — intentional, controlled — that makes it look almost like a painting. It’s one of my most-shared photos, and what I love about it is that you can feel the movement. Not just see it. There’s something about motion blur done right that captures what being in love actually feels like — that warm, giddy, full-body sensation. Like butterflies, but in an image.

That photo is a good entry point into something I think about a lot: what does motion and energy actually mean in wedding photography, and why do so many people get it wrong?

Movement isn’t always what you think it is

When most people imagine “movement” in wedding photos, they picture big gestures — a dress spinning, a couple running, confetti mid-air. And yes, those moments are real and worth chasing. But some of the most energetic photos I’ve ever taken are completely still. A tear on a grandmother’s cheek. Two hands gripping each other tightly during the vows. A glance across the room that lasts half a second. These are the moments that carry an almost electric charge — the kind couples often miss entirely on their own wedding day because they’re so deep inside the experience. That’s part of what I’m there for: to notice what they can’t. Energy in photography isn’t really about physical movement. It’s about aliveness. And that shows up in the tiniest details just as often as it does in the big dramatic moments.

Mother crying in Montreal, captured with intention by Montreal wedding photographer Muriel Oe

The myth of standing still

Here’s something I wish I could tell every couple before they booked me: you do not have to pose rigidly to get a beautiful photo. In fact, that’s often what kills the image. So many people freeze up in front of a camera because they think stillness equals a good photo. It doesn’t. I’m a professional — I know how to capture movement. What I can’t manufacture is natural energy in a couple who’s holding their breath and waiting for the click. That reads in the photo every time. What I’d rather have? A couple who’s laughing, turning toward each other, walking, fidgeting, even forgetting I’m there. The “imperfect” moments — the almost-kiss, the mid-sentence laugh, the hand squeeze nobody planned — those are usually the ones that end up on the wall.

Couple during first look in Montreal, captured by Montreal wedding photographer Muriel Oe

What I’m actually doing behind the lens

When I’m looking for motion that adds depth rather than visual noise, I’m asking myself: does this movement mean something, or is it just movement? A blurry photo of a dress spin can look like a mistake. A motion-blur image of a couple running through the Old Port looks like a feeling. The difference is intention — knowing when to use a slower shutter, how to position yourself, and whether the moment has enough emotional charge to carry the technique. Candid energy, to me, is less about waiting for something to happen and more about staying present enough to recognize it when it does. It’s in the texture of a moment. The small things. The stuff that won’t show up on the timeline but will live in the photos forever.