Why we started a Co-op Agency model.
The Space Between: Rethinking Wedding Photography Beyond Studios and Solo Creators
A short read on why we started Library.
~ Read time: 5 minutes ~
It’s tricky to write about this because this isn’t about pointing any fingers. It’s about preference, perspective, and choice. But in explaining our why we must first describe the issues we have found within the options presented to wedding photographers and why a new way forward would be the only way to sustain our love for the craft.
There’s good in everything. There are studios doing great work. There are solo photographers creating magic. And for many couples, choosing a solo photographer is still the best decision, someone they trust, connect with and see themselves in. But the reality is that no model is perfect. And this is why we started building something different, a co-operative agency.
Because while both ends of the spectrum have their strengths, they also carry deep, built-in challenges. And we believed something needed to exist in between.
There’s a shift happening. You can feel it if you’ve been around this industry long enough, not just in how weddings are shot, but in who’s doing the shooting, and what they’re rebelling against. At one end of the spectrum, there are the big studios: efficient, consistent, scalable. On the other, solo photographers: are agile, artistic, personal, but often isolated and at risk of burnout.
Both models are flawed. And somewhere in the space between them, something new is beginning to take shape.
The Big Studios
Here’s a truth that doesn’t often make it onto a studio website: less than 30% of what you pay a studio for wedding photography will go to the photographer shooting your wedding. In many cases, it’s less than 20%.
Studios operate like businesses. They need to increase profit margins and reduce costs, neither of which serve the couple or the photographer. Often, you won’t even know who your photographer will be when you book. The studio pulls from a pool of freelancers who are also shooting for other studios you likely received quotes from. It’s not transparent. It’s not personal. And it’s certainly not honest.
Photographers are handed a rigid shot list, pre-approved angles, poses, and compositions that fit the studio’s brand style guide. The result? Safe, repeatable, templated work. Photos that follow the rules. Photos that look just like the last wedding. And the one before that.
What’s worse is that the freelance photographers brought in by these studios rarely bring their best. They’re not shooting with curiosity or freedom, they’re fulfilling a checklist in the majority of the cases. The work is treated like a product. The artist is reduced to a contractor. There’s no incentive to go deeper, see differently, or take risks. The conditions just don’t allow for it.
In most instances, these photographers experience immense pressure and stress because they are told about how important to coverage is and then told what lines to stay between to deliver the images.
What’s lost is the very thing most couples say they want: something real. Something that feels like them.
There’s a kind of rebellion brewing against that. Couples are more aware than ever that weddings aren’t transactions, they’re experiences. They want more than content. They want feeling, perspective, and care. And many photographers want to offer that, too.
The Solo Photographer
On the other side, we have the solo photographer. This is where some of the most interesting, expressive, human work lives. When it’s done well, it’s deeply personal. But the risks are real.
Firstly, as a couple, you are presented with a risk of inexperience for newer photographers. Wedding photography has become an unregulated space. It’s easy to pick up a camera, create a gallery, launch a site, and start booking. Many skip the slow, formative years of working with others, assisting, and observing, not because they don’t care, but because the industry no longer encourages it. Instead, they turn to YouTube, where education is abundant but not always grounded. The emphasis becomes how to be a photographer, not how to make art or hold space.
Even for experienced wedding photographers who go out on their own, there is a risk. Without mentorship, community, without time to sharpen instincts in real situations, many solo photographers end up relying more on what’s visible: sales techniques, curated online personas, and brand language. They begin to shape not just their product, but themselves, into something that can be sold. And that’s where the craft starts to flatten.
Burnout isn’t hypothetical, it’s baked into the model.
There’s also the simple fact that no one sees everything. One set of eyes, one point of view, one level of experience. No backup. No reflection. That’s not romantic, it’s risky.
What If There’s Another Way?
This post isn’t about pointing fingers. It’s about looking at what could exist between those two poles: not the factory line or the solo grind, but a collective of experience, independence, and shared values.
A place where creative integrity doesn’t mean isolation. Where structure doesn’t mean sameness. Where photographers can stay artists, and be supported.
It’s not about rejecting either model entirely, it’s about refusing to be defined by them.
We started building a co-operative agency because we believe something better is possible:
A model where photographers are trusted collaborators, not contractors.
Where clients know exactly who they’re hiring, and why.
Where younger photographers can learn alongside experienced ones, not from the noise of algorithms but from the intimacy of practice.
Where photographers are recognised for their individual work, not made to fit into a brand mould.
Where everyone shoots with their own style and voice, without the pressure of a style guide.
Where photographers are paid fairly, and transparently.
Where every member contributes to the shared running of the business, sharing the admin, systems, and support that make it sustainable.
Where encouragement is culture, and community is real.
And most importantly, where each photographer retains fulfilment in their work and continues to grow as an individual artist.
We are currently developing an accreditation process for all joining artists to ensure alignment in standards, integrity, and artistic vision. This isn’t just a new model, it’s a framework for trust.
We believe the future of wedding photography lies here: in the middle, in the margins, in the space where trust, skill, intuition, and collaboration meet. Photographers who know their worth, value their well-being, and want to make work that lasts longer than the scroll.
And maybe that’s not a rebellion. Maybe it’s just the beginning of something healthier.