A look behind the imagery and process shaping Don Cudney’s work highlighting trusted tools, creative collaborators, and authentic moments.
During a celebrity photo session, it’s generally understood that the focus is on capturing a quick shot—no autographs and no small talk.
On a commercial shoot for Papa John’s Pizza (Caviar), we followed a strict shot list. When the agency representative called, “That’s a wrap,” Jim Nantz and John Schnatter promptly left the set, leaving Peyton Manning standing alone.
Instead of walking away, I asked Manning for an additional moment. He agreed.
Manning turned out to be one of the most welcoming celebrities I’ve ever worked with. He arrived on time, without an entourage or security, and carried himself with a genuinely down-to-earth demeanor. In my experience, he remains the nicest celebrity I’ve ever met.
Some photo shoots are more fun than others—and working with professional athletes always brings a ton of energy.
My time working with Kenneth Faried of the Denver Nuggets was no exception. Known as “The Manimal” for his relentless hustle on the court, Faried was also recognized for his signature scream.
The so-called “Kenneth Faried scream” came from a memorable post-game interview when he reacted to his own stat line—19 points and 19 rebounds—by shouting, “Right?!” His animated response, punctuated with a bit of colorful language, perfectly captured the intensity and raw energy he brought to the game every night.
I experienced my own fifteen minutes of fame while serving as a judge on the reality television program SHOOT! A Colorado Photographer’s Reality.
The series aired on Colorado Public Television and followed a group of photographers competing in weekly creative challenges staged across the state. My role as a judge was both inspiring and slightly surreal. I evaluated the work of talented photographers under pressure, delivered real-time feedback, and did my best to appear comfortable in front of the cameras.
In truth, I felt completely awkward on camera.
Stacey Peralta is widely regarded as a legend — an icon within the skateboarding community and an award-winning documentary filmmaker. He directed Dogtown and Z-Boys (2001), Lords of Dogtown (2005), and Crips and Bloods: Made in America (2008), films that helped define modern skateboarding culture and its broader social context.
Having been a skateboarder since early childhood, I had long viewed Stacey Peralta as a personal hero. When I learned he would be visiting Denver as part of a university speaking tour, I made the decision to attend—determined not only to meet him, but to create a photographic portrait.
I photographed the session entirely on speculation and for personal fulfillment rather than commercial intent. At the time, I wasn’t thinking about publication, licensing, or online exposure; capturing the moment itself was the objective.
Several months later, Concrete Wave Magazine licensed one of the images for an interview feature titled Bones Brigade: An Autobiography. While the publication was a meaningful professional acknowledgment, the experience itself remained significant on a deeply personal level.
When people hear the phrase “swimsuit calendar shoot in Cabo San Lucas,” they tend to picture margaritas, soft sand, and effortless, bronzed perfection. What they don’t see is me sprinting down the beach with nearly eighty pounds of gear on my back, chasing the last ten minutes of usable sunlight.
The assignment was to produce a sixteen-page swimsuit calendar for the Colorado Crush, featuring members of the dance squad in a range of sun-drenched beach settings. On paper, it sounded idyllic. In practice, it turned into a sunburned, sand-covered logistical grind.
We ran into problems immediately when the entire wardrobe of bikinis was confiscated by Mexican Customs, ultimately requiring an unofficial payment to get them released. Transportation was inconsistent at best, and spending nearly twenty-three hours a day in close quarters—even with a great crew—started to test everyone’s limits.
Behind the polished final images was a team of exhausted, overheated creatives working through unpredictable conditions. The bloopers reel became a candid reminder: every effortless-looking beach shot is backed by relentless effort, constant improvisation, and a fair amount of fatigue.
Behind Every Great Photo: The Power of Collaboration
Photography is often seen as a one-person show—just a photographer and a camera capturing a moment. But the truth is, great photography is rarely a solo effort. Behind every stunning portrait, fashion spread, or commercial shoot is a team of creative professionals who help bring the vision to life.
A hair stylist shapes movement and texture to fit the mood. A makeup artist enhances features and ensures everything looks flawless under the lights. A stylist curates clothing that tells the story and completes the image.
Without their expertise, even the best photography wouldn’t look nearly as polished or powerful. Behind every great photo is a team of creatives working together to make it shine.
Sometimes it pays to dress well.
I found myself standing in the shadow of a Spider-Man float near 77th Street and Central Park West in New York City, trying to stay inconspicuous while preparing to photograph the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. It was 6:00 a.m., the cold was biting, and most of the photographers around me were dressed strictly for function.
Right on cue—in unmistakable New York fashion—someone called out from behind me:
“Hey! Want to make some fast cash? You’re the best-dressed photographer out here this morning. I’ve got three actors and a boy band I need photographed. Can you do it?”
I tend to follow two rules: I rarely turn down paid work, and I’m even less likely to say no when it comes with a compliment. I agreed immediately and asked who I’d be shooting.
The group turned out to be Boys Like Girls—with Martin Johnson, Paul DiGiovanni, John Keefe, and Morgan Dorr—alongside Jane Krakowski, Mitchel Musso, and Keke Palmer.
What started as me trying to blend into the background turned into a fast-moving, on-the-spot shoot with recognizable talent—exactly the kind of unpredictable moment that makes this business interesting.
I shot that.
That surreal moment when you spots your imagery on a product label at Walmart. From behind the lens to the shelves—it’s wild to see your work out in the world like that.
“Keep it tight, and keep it in focus.”
I’ve operated live broadcast cameras for numerous high-profile artists, but nothing quite matched the night I worked Camera #3 on It’s My Party Tour for Jennifer Lopez.
In large-scale concert productions, each camera operator is given a specific assignment—a guitarist, a featured dancer, or a sweeping wide of the stage. That night, my instructions were unusually precise.
“Camera Three,” the director called over the headset, “you’ve got Jennifer’s bottom tonight. Keep it tight, and keep it in focus.”
Laughter rippled through comms, but the directive was completely serious. From that point on, my job was to maintain a clean, stable frame on one of the most recognizable silhouettes in pop performance.
Technically demanding, slightly absurd, and impossible to forget—it remains one of the more memorable assignments of my career as a live camera operator.
Layouts & Storyboards
I’ve always loved working with layouts and storyboards—especially in commercial work where every frame has a purpose. Collaborating with art directors who supply such thoughtful visual roadmaps is one of my favorite parts of the process.
Receiving awards and recognition.
Receiving awards for my work has always been meaningful, but the recognition that carries the most weight comes from my peers—professionals who understand the process, the pressure, and the level of commitment behind every assignment. Their respect reinforces that I’m not just producing images; I’m contributing to a craft shared by a dedicated creative community.
You’re not a professional unless you’re represented.
There’s a big difference between taking good pictures and working professionally. The title “professional” isn’t just about owning a camera or getting paid once in a while. If you're not represented—by an agent, a production company, or a rep agency—you’re not working at a professional level. Representation means you’re vetted. It means clients trust you with real budgets, tight deadlines, and high expectations. It means someone believes your work is strong enough to invest in.
Some of the most memorable experiences in his career unfolded away from the final frame, in the unpredictable space behind the scenes.
I spent ten demanding—yet ultimately unforgettable—days in Jackson Hole photographing a swimsuit calendar project for Twin Peaks Restaurants. As the production progressed, both tourists and locals began to take notice of the highly visible shoot. By the final day, curiosity peaked when two locals approached me with a direct—and slightly amused—question: who I was, and why I seemed to be surrounded by beautiful women every day.
The moment was humorous, but it also highlighted one of the profession’s less obvious advantages—the convergence of timing, location, and collaboration with dynamic personalities. It was a reminder that compelling visual storytelling often extends beyond the frame.
Behind every finished photograph is a sequence of lived moments—logistical challenges, spontaneous laughter, striking environments, and occasional mischief. For me, that human dimension is the enduring magic of photography: the relationships built, the stories experienced, and the memories created just outside the visible image.
“We’re going to need a bigger scrim, Jim.”
Photographing bedroom and living room environments required far more than simply pressing the shutter. The process typically involved transporting a trailer full of strobes, working within a large studio space capable of accommodating complex lighting setups, and suspending an oversized scrim substantial enough to soften reflections across an entire room set.
Don spent nearly a decade assisting his mentor, Jim Yost of Jim Yost Photography, producing imagery for Furniture RowMarketing’s Sunday newspaper inserts. Assignments included staged bedroom suites, dining room tables, sofas, and countless small decorative details carefully arranged to convey a sense of everyday livability. For many Denver residents over the age of forty, those inserts became a familiar — and frequently discarded — part of the weekend routine.
The same massive scrim later proved unexpectedly versatile when Furniture Row required promotional images of its sponsored NASCAR #78 stock car. The experience reinforced a core principle of commercial photography: the lighting tools used to control specular highlights on a polished coffee table could just as effectively transform a race car into an object of museum-like precision and visual drama.
Early in his career, Don lost a project he had been actively bidding on — not because of the strength of his work, but because his rates for Polaroid tests were set too low. An account executive later informed him that the client had assumed he must be inexperienced, simply because his pricing fell below that of competing photographers.
The experience marked a pivotal turning point. It reinforced the reality that in commercial photography, perception could carry as much influence as talent or technical execution. He came to understand that pricing was never just a matter of arithmetic; it communicated confidence, conveyed professional value, and played a critical role in how a creative professional was positioned within the marketplace.
Who remembers Polaroids?
Don’s first paid photography assignment took place on print film along Pensacola Beach in northwest Florida. Although he could no longer recall the model’s name, the memory of the day itself remained vivid. She carried a natural radiance, while he approached the shoot as a young photographer equipped with a bag full of 35mm print film and far more enthusiasm than experience.
They moved slowly along the shoreline, following the shifting direction and quality of the light as it played across the sand and water. They paused instinctively whenever a scene felt visually compelling. The air was warm, the sea breeze steady, and the entire setting seemed imbued with an effortless sense of beauty.
As the sun dropped toward the horizon, the beach became enveloped in the kind of golden illumination photographers often spend years trying to anticipate and capture — a moment that left a lasting impression on both his creative instincts and his developing professional path.
Don is no model and he can not act.
When Don isn’t working behind the camera or promoting his own projects, he frequently assisted fellow photographers, videographers, and cinematographers in whatever capacity was needed. On occasion, that support even meant stepping in front of the lens to serve as a stand-in model or background actor.
Over time, he appeared in front of the camera often enough that he joked he should probably begin charging a modeling fee.
Images courtesy of Jim Yost Photography
He sometimes joked that he should have become a wedding photographer.
Wedding assignments, in his experience, seemed comparatively streamlined: two camera bodies, a select range of lenses, a pair of speedlights, and an ample supply of batteries. The logistics were contained, the footprint manageable, and the workflow relatively direct.
Commercial productions, by contrast, often felt like orchestrating a small-scale military deployment. Equipment cases arrived stacked with geometric precision, lighting units were powerful enough to attract the attention of low-flying aircraft, and large modifiers resembled portable circus structures. Managing such productions typically required not only a capable crew, but also extensive coordination — and, on occasion, machinery capable of moving the sheer volume of gear involved.
Film and video productions could represent substantial financial stakes and intense pressure, but he maintained that they should never be approached with excessive seriousness.
Extended days on set were often physically and mentally demanding, making it essential to preserve a positive working atmosphere. Don made a habit of introducing brief moments of levity to help sustain morale. One technique he relied on consistently was disarmingly simple: making exaggerated, humorous facial expressions.
The gesture often helped relax models, crew members, and clients alike, reinforcing the idea that even within highly structured productions, collaboration worked best when people felt comfortable, energized, and able to enjoy the creative process together.
Posing 101.
Despite common assumptions, most of the individuals Don photographs or films are not professional models. More often, they are business owners, financial advisors, musicians, waitstaff, entrepreneurs, and other professionals whose primary careers existed far outside the world of visual production.
Because they typically lacked formal modeling experience, they occasionally required guidance with posing, body language, and on-camera confidence. These coaching moments frequently introduced an element of humor into the process, helping subjects relax while reinforcing a collaborative, supportive atmosphere on set.
You always remember your first.
His first published cover and feature assignment originated from a rigging project completed while he was studying at the Colorado Institute of Art. The resulting imagery was later licensed to The Denver Entertainer magazine.
For the shoot, he mounted approximately $3,500 worth of camera equipment to the nose of his snowboard using a single super clamp and a roll of duct tape — a configuration that made the board exceptionally difficult to control. Each descent became a calculated risk, and every exposed frame carried the sensation of capturing an image from the very edge of disaster.
He became a member of the press during a period when professional media credentials still carried a broadly positive public perception.
Committed to strengthening both his own career and the broader creative community, he joined the American Society of Media Photographers (ASMP), an organization dedicated to supporting photographers, filmmakers, students, and emerging visual storytellers.
He later had the honor of serving on the Board of Directors for the Colorado Chapter, where he gained firsthand insight into the value of mentorship, professional collaboration, and peer support. The experience reinforced his belief that organizations like ASMP function not merely as industry associations, but as essential resources for individuals serious about building sustainable careers in visual content creation.
“You must have a terrific oven.”
Years earlier, while covering the Aspen Food & Wine Classic, Don was invited to attend an elaborate dinner hosted by one of the world’s most celebrated chefs. As he entered the venue, the chef — choosing not to reveal his identity — glanced at his name badge and remarked, “I love your pictures. They’re wonderful. You must have a fantastic camera.”
He responded politely, thanked the chef, and took his seat.
Later that evening, as the chef circulated through the room asking guests about their dining experience, he reached his table. When asked how the meal had been, he replied, “It was wonderful — you must have a terrific oven.”
The exchange served as a lighthearted but pointed reminder of a fundamental professional truth: while tools certainly matter, their effectiveness is ultimately determined by the skill, intent, and understanding of the individual using them. Cameras, like ovens, are simply instruments. The outcome depends on the craft behind them.
Best Cover Ever.
When photographing a magazine cover, Don understands that the objective extended beyond capturing a compelling portrait; it required designing with the final layout in mind. He approaches each cover assignment with deliberate attention to spatial planning, leaving clean visual areas for the masthead, cover lines, barcodes, and other graphic elements.
He composes frames with uncluttered backgrounds above the subject’s head to provide a natural placement for the publication’s title. He also incorporates intentional negative space along one or both sides of the composition, allowing room for typography without competing textures or intersecting lines that could disrupt visual hierarchy. Shooting slightly wider than a traditional portrait framing gives the art director greater flexibility to crop, position text, and maintain the integrity of key facial features and design balance.
For him, the process represented a fusion of visual storytelling and graphic design — planning for the finished product before a single headline was set. When he later saw the printed issue, he was especially gratified to find that the art director, Nick Heckman, had chosen a restrained layout approach. By adding only essential cover elements, Heckman allowed the photograph to remain the dominant visual statement, aligning closely with the photographer’s original creative intent.
#Justice For Jax
Don created a stylized AI-generated illustration to honor his close friend Jax Gratton — a gifted hairstylist, dedicated local business owner, and a compassionate, resilient woman whose life was taken far too soon.
The work was never intended as a commercial endeavor. Instead, it serves as a personal and public tribute — a way to keep her story present in the community, to encourage continued attention and accountability in the investigation surrounding her mysterious death, to support the causes she believed in, and to contribute, in some small way, to the collective process of healing.
You can be part of that: https://www.teepublic.com/user/doncudneyphotovideo
Don does not regard this image as art, but as evidence — a stark visual record of personal collapse and emotional exposure.
It was created as a way to preserve the memory of what it felt like to lose everything, to confront a moment in which there was nothing left to shield him from the reality of his circumstances.
In that period, he came to understand the true meaning of being penniless. It extended beyond financial hardship to a deeper sense of erasure — a feeling of diminished worth in the eyes of society. There was no comfort, no perceived status, and no reliable sense of safety. What remained was the simple, undeniable fact of his own continued existence after so much had been stripped away.
He experienced homelessness, unemployment, and the desperation that often accompanies both. He became familiar with the humiliation, the isolation, and the subtle but profound way in which people can begin to look past someone who is struggling. Yet he also learned what it required to rebuild. Recovery was not immediate or dramatic; it unfolded gradually, through persistent effort, measured resilience, and the slow reclamation of stability, dignity, and a renewed — if more realistic — sense of security.
Social media is essential for marketing because it offers direct access to your target audience, and builds trust through authentic content—especially behind-the-scenes glimpses.
“In an age of automation and technology, the brands that feel most human are the ones that will ultimately win.”
