Funeral Streaming, Videography and Photography Blog
Guides and real funerals I have streamed, filmed and photographed across the UK. How the services work, what they cost, and what the days actually look like.
Funeral Live Streaming · Funeral Videography · Funeral Photography
Filming a Beautiful, Inclusive Funeral Ceremony with Music, Dance and Love
Some funerals follow a familiar pattern. Others create their own, entirely. This was one of the most fluid, heartfelt and genuinely moving ceremonies I have had the privilege of filming — a farewell that felt completely true to the person being remembered and the community gathered to honour them.
Friends and family came together in a warm, open space in London. There was no strict order of service, no formal programme to follow. Instead, the room was given space to breathe — tributes shared naturally and spontaneously, emotion expressed freely, silence held when it needed to be held.
As a Funeral Videographer, it was a ceremony built entirely on love.
Kirtan Chanting Led by Nikki Slade
The ceremony opened with Kirtan chanting led by Nikki Slade — a musician and sound practitioner known for her work using chant, breath and voice as a pathway to stillness and connection.
Kirtan is a call-and-response form of chanting rooted in the devotional traditions of India — simple repeated phrases that invite the whole room to participate, regardless of faith or background. In a ceremony like this, where people had come from many different walks of life, it worked beautifully. Nobody felt excluded. The chanting gave everyone a shared language before anyone had spoken a word.
I filmed the chanting from a respectful position that allowed me to capture both Nikki and the faces of those in the room — the gradual shift in the atmosphere as people settled, softened, and opened. That transition from anticipation to presence is one of the hardest things to capture in a ceremony, and one of the most important.
Tara — A Whirling Dervish Dancer
Later in the ceremony came one of the most visually striking moments I've witnessed at a funeral in over ten years of this work: a performance by Tara, a Whirling Dervish dancer.
The Whirling Dervish tradition — Sema — originates in Sufi mysticism and represents the soul's journey toward divine love. The dancer turns continuously, arms extended, one hand raised toward heaven and one toward the earth — a living symbol of connection between the human and the transcendent.
Watching this in a funeral setting, surrounded by people who loved the person being remembered, was extraordinary. The movement was meditative and completely unself-conscious. The room fell very still.
Filming it required moving quietly to find the right angle — the turn of the dress, the expression, the faces of those watching — without breaking the spell of the moment. I moved slowly and only when the movement itself allowed me to, keeping the camera as steady and unobtrusive as possible throughout.
An Inclusive, Open Ceremony
This was also a ceremony that honoured the LGBTQ+ identity of the person who had died, and the community that gathered to say goodbye. The atmosphere was one of complete acceptance — of the person, of the grief, of each other.
There was nothing performative about it. The inclusivity was simply the air in the room. People were fully themselves. The tributes were honest and warm. The love was present in every part of the day.
As with every service I attend, my role was to observe and document — not to direct, not to intrude, not to impose any particular frame on what was happening. I follow the ceremony's lead. When it was still, I was still. When it moved, I moved with it.
What I Provide for Inclusive and Alternative Ceremonies
I work with families and communities of every background, faith, identity and tradition — and some of the most meaningful services I've been asked to document fall outside any recognisable category. Humanist ceremonies, Pagan and Wiccan rituals, Sufi-inspired celebrations, multi-faith gatherings, woodland memorials, and services built entirely around the particular person being remembered.
For every kind of ceremony, my approach is the same: to arrive without assumptions, to listen carefully beforehand to what the family or the community is planning, and to film what actually happens rather than a version of it shaped by prior expectation.
For LGBTQ+ families in particular, finding a videographer, photographer or streaming operator who will approach the day with complete openness — and who has genuine experience of diverse ceremonies — matters. I hope this case study gives some sense of what that looks like in practice.
If you are planning a ceremony — traditional, alternative, or something entirely your own — I'm happy to talk through what you're imagining and how I can help capture it.
Filming, Photography and Streaming for Any Ceremony
Whether you need funeral videography, funeral photography, live streaming, or a combination, I work with families across London and the UK for services of every kind. You can see more of my work in my funeral videography portfolioand funeral photography portfolio.
For celebrations of life — gatherings that are more about honouring a life than following a formal funeral format — my celebration of life services page explains how I approach these and what's typically involved.
Call or text me on 07772 509101 — available seven days a week, 9am to 10pm — or get in touch online.
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Funeral Photography at Golders Green Crematorium — The Memorial Service of Andrea Levy
It was an honour to provide funeral photography at Golders Green Crematorium in London for the memorial service of Andrea Levy — one of the most important British novelists of her generation, and a writer whose work changed how Britain understood its own story.
The service was arranged by Leverton & Sons, and attended by family, friends, fellow writers, and admirers who had gathered to say goodbye to someone whose voice had mattered to them deeply. My role was to document the day with the same discretion and care I bring to every service — quietly present, always respectful, capturing what unfolded rather than directing it.
Who Was Andrea Levy?
Andrea Levy was born in London in 1956, the daughter of Jamaican parents. Her father was among the passengers who arrived in Britain on the Empire Windrush in 1948 — the ship whose name now defines an entire generation and a defining chapter in British history. Her mother followed shortly after.
Levy grew up in a working-class household in North London, and did not begin writing seriously until she was in her thirties — after a creative writing course prompted her to explore what she had always known but never quite examined: the story of her family, her heritage, and what it had meant for her parents to build a life in a country that did not always want them.
Her novels did something rare in British literature — they gave the Windrush generation their own voices, told their stories from the inside, and asked white Britain to look honestly at what the experience of immigration had actually meant on both sides. She was widely regarded as the first Black British author to achieve both critical acclaim and mainstream commercial success.
Her most celebrated work, Small Island (2004), tells the story of Hortense and Gilbert — Jamaican immigrants arriving in postwar London — alongside Queenie and Bernard, the English couple in whose house they find lodgings. The novel won the Orange Prize for Fiction, the Whitbread Book of the Year, and the Commonwealth Writers' Prize. It was adapted for the BBC and later for the National Theatre. Her final novel, The Long Song (2010), set in Jamaica during the last years of slavery, was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize and won the Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction.
Andrea Levy died in February 2019, aged 62, after a long illness. Her publisher said her legacy was unique and her voice would be heard for generations. That felt true in the room at Golders Green.
Golders Green Crematorium — A Place of Significance
Golders Green Crematorium is one of London's most historically significant venues for a memorial service. Opened in 1902, it is the oldest operating crematorium in London and has been the setting for the farewell services of some of the most influential cultural figures of the twentieth century — writers, musicians, artists, scientists. The gardens are beautiful, the chapels quiet and light, and the whole place carries a sense of the weight of who has passed through it.
For a writer of Andrea Levy's stature and significance — a Londoner, the daughter of Windrush passengers, whose work is now studied on academic curricula across the world — there could hardly have been a more fitting place.
The Memorial Service
The chapel was filled with people who had loved her and been shaped by her. Family and close friends sat alongside writers, publishers, academics and readers whose lives her work had touched in different ways. The tributes reflected the range of who she had been — not just the prize-winning novelist, but the woman, the friend, the daughter of the Windrush, the person who had not picked up a book for pleasure until her twenties and then found she had everything to say.
There were readings from her work — passages from Small Island and The Long Song read aloud in the space where she was being remembered. There was music that reflected her Caribbean heritage and her London life. Personal tributes spoke of her warmth, her directness, her wit, and the way she carried the weight of representing something larger than herself with both seriousness and grace.
Throughout the service I worked from positions that kept me unobtrusive — using longer lenses to stay at a respectful distance from the most private moments, moving quietly during the natural pauses in the programme, always following the service rather than interrupting it. At a gathering like this — public enough to be significant, private enough to be genuinely personal — the balance between documentation and discretion is one that has to be felt rather than calculated.
Photographing at a Literary Memorial Service
Memorial services for public figures present their own particular character. The room contains people who knew the person intimately alongside people who knew them only through their work — and both kinds of grief are real. A novelist's readers can feel a profound sense of loss for someone they never met, because the books created a relationship that felt genuine. That was especially true of Andrea Levy's work, which was so deeply rooted in personal experience and told with such specificity and warmth.
What I was photographing was not just a funeral. It was a community of people recognising what they had lost — not only a writer, but a voice that had told them something true about themselves and the country they lived in.
The photographs from this day are among the most significant in my portfolio — not because of anything I did, but because of who Andrea Levy was and what her memorial meant to the people in that room.
Funeral Photography Across London
I provide funeral photography across London and throughout the UK, working at crematoriums, churches, chapels and memorial venues of all kinds — from small, intimate family services to large public memorial gatherings. Golders Green Crematorium is one of several London venues I have worked in regularly.
If you are arranging a memorial or funeral service in London and would like to discuss photography, I'm happy to talk through what's involved.
Call or text me on 07772 509101 — available seven days a week, 9am to 10pm — or get in touch online.
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Jamaican Funeral Videography — St Mary's Church Hitchin & North Hertfordshire Memorial Park
Filming a Jamaican funeral in Hertfordshire is always an honour, especially when invited into the heart of a family's farewell. On this day, I was entrusted with capturing Donovan's memorial — an unforgettable and heartfelt occasion filled with tributes, music, laughter, and tears.
The Family Home and the Hearse Arriving in Hitchin
The day began at the family home in Hitchin, where I filmed the arrival of the hearse and the gathering of close family. These early morning moments — quiet, private, full of the weight of what is about to happen — are ones families often value most when they watch the film back. The day hasn't yet taken on its full shape; people are still arriving, still holding each other. There is something irreplaceable about having that recorded.From there the procession moved to St Mary's Church, Hitchin — a beautiful historic church in the heart of the town, and the right setting for a service of this warmth and scale.
The Service at St Mary's Church, Hitchin
The church service was filled with warmth, energy and soul. Friends and family delivered readings, poetry, and shared stories that celebrated Donovan's life in full colour and depth. This is what Jamaican funerals do particularly well — the tributes are genuine and personal, the music carries real feeling, and the congregation responds. There is grief here, but there is also celebration, laughter, and an unmistakable sense of a community coming together to honour someone they loved.
I filmed throughout from positions that kept the camera unobtrusive — using longer lenses to capture expressions and moments from a respectful distance, moving only when the flow of the service allowed it.
Snow at the Graveside — North Hertfordshire Memorial Park
I had originally been booked only for the church service. At the end of it, the family asked if I could also cover the burial. I'm always happy to be flexible when it matters — and thankfully I had brought my gloves.
We continued to North Hertfordshire Memorial Park & Crematorium for the committal. The scene that greeted us was completely unexpected and entirely beautiful — fresh snow on the ground, the landscape white and still, the sky a flat winter grey. The family gathered at the graveside and, as the coffin was lowered, began to sing. Gospel singing, together, in the snow, as they backfilled the grave. Floral tributes were placed lovingly on top.
It was one of the most visually striking and emotionally powerful graveside moments I have witnessed in over ten years of this work. The contrast between the warmth inside the church and the cold stillness of the winter cemetery — and then the singing rising up through it — created something I will not forget.
Throughout the day I maintained a discreet and respectful distance while capturing moments both powerful and intimate. Though I was hired as a funeral videographer, I also took a handful of still images for the family to cherish.
What Jai and the Family Said
"A million thank you's to this amazing man! This is the last time we would see his body and we will always want to remember him. Shaun made that possible for us. He was very kind, sympathetic, discreet and respectful. Thank you, Shaun, from the bottom of our hearts."
— Jai & Family ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Jamaican and Caribbean Funeral Videography, Streaming and Photography Across the UK
If you are planning a Jamaican or Caribbean funeral in Hertfordshire or anywhere across the UK, I am available to sensitively document your loved one's farewell with care and dignity. Whether you need funeral videography, funeral photography or funeral live streaming — or a combination of all three — it would be an honour to help.
For Caribbean funerals in particular, live streaming is often as important as the filming itself, allowing family in Jamaica, Barbados, Trinidad and elsewhere to be present in real time. You can read more about how this works in my guide to live streaming a graveside or outdoor funeral, and in my Caribbean funeral case study from Bedford where over 1,900 viewers joined live from 7 countries.
Call or text me on 07772 509101 — available seven days a week, 9am to 10pm — or get in touch online.
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Hindu Funeral Photography — Body Preparation, Horse-Drawn Cortege & Cremation, Barrow-in-Furness, Cumbria
Thank you to the family for the extraordinary trust they placed in me on this day to be their funeral photographer — and for giving their permission to share these images. Their generosity in allowing others to see what they experienced is an act of love, and I hope it helps other Hindu families understand what funeral photography at this level can look like.
Travelling to Cumbria — Why This Family Found Me
Barrow-in-Furness is a long way from my base, and not a journey I make lightly. But this family had seen my work, and they knew what they wanted — a photographer whose approach was built around storytelling rather than posing. No stopping. No staging. No directing people to stand here or look that way. Just honest, documentary coverage of the day as it actually unfolded.
That is exactly how I work, and it is why they asked me to make the journey. From the very first moment at Co-op Funeralcare Barrow to the final images at The Chetwynde Hotel, my job was to follow, observe and record — never to interrupt what was happening in front of me.
The Funeral Directors — Photographing the Preparation of the Body
The day began at Co-op Funeralcare in Barrow, where the family gathered to prepare the body before the journey to the crematorium. I was invited to be present for this — something that is not asked of many photographers, and which I did not take lightly.
In Hindu tradition, the preparation of the body is a sacred act — the Antyesti, or last rites, begins here. The body is washed and anointed with ghee (clarified butter), milk, honey and oils, each substance carrying its own spiritual significance. For women, turmeric is traditionally applied to the head; for men, sandalwood. The body is then dressed — in white for most, or red for a married woman — and placed in the open coffin surrounded by flowers. Rice balls, known as pinda, may be placed beside the body. A lamp is lit near the head. These are not decorative gestures. Each one is an act of preparation for the soul's journey toward moksha — liberation and release from the cycle of rebirth.
The family replaced bangles on her hands and placed flowers with care around her. These moments — intimate, tender, purposeful — are exactly the kind of thing that passes invisibly unless someone is there to record them.
I worked very slowly and very quietly. Longer lenses kept me at a respectful physical distance. I followed the family's lead entirely, lowering the camera without question at any moment that felt too private. The images from this part of the day are among the most beautiful I have ever taken — the care in every gesture, the love in every placement of a flower.
The Horse-Drawn Carriage — Capturing the Cortege from Funeral Directors to Crematorium
When the time came to leave for Thorncliffe Cemetery and Crematorium, the coffin was carried from the funeral directors onto a horse-drawn carriage. Red roses were placed on the coffin as it was settled onto the carriage — a moment of such simple, quiet beauty that it stopped me.
Capturing the horse and carriage properly was important. I positioned myself to show the full length of the cortege — the horses, the carriage, the family following — while also moving in closer for the details: the roses on the lid, the hands of the people carrying, the expression of the man guiding the horses.
In Hindu tradition, cremation should ideally take place as soon as possible after death, within 24 hours where possible, so that the soul's journey is not delayed. The procession to the crematorium is not incidental — it is part of the ritual itself, a final passage through the world the person inhabited. Photographing it as such, rather than simply as a transport arrangement, is what storytelling means in practice.
The Open Coffin Service at Thorncliffe Crematorium
At Thorncliffe Crematorium, the family held an open coffin service — central to Hindu funeral practice and one of the most visually significant parts of the day.
The family carried her into the crematorium together. The coffin was open, surrounded by flowers and garlands — marigold and rose are traditional, symbols of the transience of life and the beauty of what is released. Inside the coffin, alongside her, coconuts and ghee had been placed as offerings.
Both carry deep significance in Hindu ritual. The coconut is considered a symbol of the ego — its hard outer shell representing the individual self, and the breaking of it symbolising the releasing of the soul from the body. Ghee, made from clarified butter, is one of the most sacred substances in Hinduism, used in puja and yajna (fire offerings) for thousands of years. Offering it with the body is an act of purification, a way of honouring the transition the soul is making.
The Pandit led the family through mantras and prayers in Sanskrit. The sound of those ancient prayers filling the crematorium chapel created an atmosphere of complete spiritual focus — something entirely unlike any other service I have attended.
Family members were invited to circle the coffin and make their own offerings and farewells. In some crematoriums, Hindu families are also able to witness the charging — the moment the coffin enters the cremator — as a final act of the mukhagni, traditionally the lighting of the funeral pyre by the eldest son. Thorncliffe's arrangements on the day were guided by the family's wishes and the crematorium's own facilities.
Throughout all of this I worked from positions agreed with the family and the funeral director, moving quietly between wider shots of the congregation and closer coverage of the rituals. I never drew attention to the camera. I never crossed in front of the coffin. The family knew I was there, and I aimed to be invisible in practice.
The Reception at The Chetwynde Hotel
After the cremation, the family hosted a reception at The Chetwynde Hotel in Barrow-in-Furness. Family and friends gathered to share stories, memories and a warm meal — the community aspect of Hindu mourning that is just as important as the ceremony itself.
I continued coverage through the reception — the conversations, the food, the older relatives sitting together, the smaller moments that only show up in photographs taken by someone who was paying attention throughout the whole day rather than arriving for the service and leaving.
Why the Family Chose to Share These Images
The family made a considered decision to allow these photographs to be shared publicly. They wanted other Hindu families to know that this kind of photography exists — and that it can be done with the care and respect it deserves.
Many Hindu families in the UK have never considered having a professional photographer present at the body preparation or the open coffin service. Some worry it would feel intrusive. This family's decision to share their images shows what it actually looks like when it is done with genuine sensitivity and a photographer who understands the difference between documenting a story and interrupting one.
Hindu Funeral Photography Across the UK
I photograph Hindu funerals across the UK — at crematoriums, family homes and community centres, for families from Gujarat, Punjab, Maharashtra, Tamil Nadu and many other regions, each with their own specific customs. If you are arranging a Hindu funeral and would like to discuss whether photography might be right for your family, I'm happy to have that conversation.
You can also read more about my approach in my complete guide to funeral photography and my guide on is funeral photography right for our family?
Call or text me on 07772 509101 — available seven days a week, 9am to 10pm — or get in touch online.
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“My dear friend George Richmond, the Director of Photography for the Marvel movie Deadpool, took on the responsibility of selecting a videographer for my husband's funeral. He chose you out of everyone he looked at, and I am immensely grateful for that decision.
Your work is truly remarkable - from the beautiful opening shots to the impeccable sound quality and the finer details throughout. The way you captured the vibrant blue sky was touching, especially since my husband had such an affection for blue skies. My heartfelt thanks for everything you've done.”
— Lady M ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️