Lighting a Devon wedding: What actually works (and what's a waste of money)

There's a moment at almost every wedding I've been to in the last few years when the photographer wanders off, the speeches are done, and the room sort of exhales. The light shifts. Whoever sorted the lighting either gets a quiet round of compliments, or they don't, because nobody noticed it at all, which in fairness is sometimes the point.

Lighting is the bit of wedding planning that gets pushed down the list until about six weeks out, and then suddenly it's everything. You've booked the barn, the flowers are sorted, the dress is hanging up. Then someone sends you a Pinterest board and you realise the gorgeous shots you've been saving all have one thing in common: they were taken at golden hour, or they were lit properly. The room itself is usually fine. The light is doing the work.

If you're getting married in Devon, the lighting question is also a weather question. June in this county can give you a sunset at half nine and a reception that's still bright at 8pm, or it can give you horizontal rain by Friday and a marquee that needs to feel cosy by 4. Plan for both.

Start with what the venue already has

Before you spend a penny on extras, walk the venue at the actual time of day your reception will be in full swing. Most couples view venues at midday, when everything looks perfect and nobody's thought about how dark it'll be at ten. Barns in particular are tricky. Upton Barn, Sandy Park, the Deer Park: beautiful spaces with high beams and exposed wood, and most of them have very little ambient light beyond what comes through the doors. That's part of the appeal, but it means you're starting from near-zero once the sun goes down.

Ask the venue what's included. A lot of Devon venues will throw in fairy lights along the beams as standard, and that genuinely is enough for some weddings. Don't pay extra for what you're getting anyway.

The stuff that's worth it

Festoon lights outside. If you've got any kind of garden, terrace, courtyard or bit of grass that guests will spill onto for drinks, festoons strung overhead are the single best money you can spend. They photograph beautifully, they make people linger outside instead of clogging up the bar, and they cost less than you'd think. Most lighting hire companies in Exeter and Plymouth do them by the metre.

Uplights against walls. Around £15 to £25 each to hire, depending where you go. Six to eight of them washing up the walls of a barn or marquee will do more for the atmosphere than any amount of fancy centrepieces. Stick with warm white or a single colour. The colour-changing ones that pulse in time with the DJ are a no, unless that is genuinely your vibe, in which case fair enough.

Candles, lots of them. Flickering light at table height is what makes wedding photos look like wedding photos. Battery tealights are fine if your venue won't allow real flames (some thatched and historic venues won't), but proper candles are better where you can. Pillar candles in clusters look more grown-up than tea lights scattered around.

One statement piece. This is where neon comes in. A custom sign with your names, the date, a lyric, or a stupid in-joke between you both, hung behind the top table, above the bar, or against a wall by the dance floor, gives the room a focal point and gives your guests something to photograph. It's the most photographed bit of décor at almost every wedding I've been to recently. Done well, it's not tacky at all. The makers at Neon Daddy do bespoke ones in proper LED neon, and their wedding-specific range has the usual "Mr & Mrs" and "Better Together" type things plus options to design your own. Fair warning: once you've got one, you'll find a place for it in the house afterwards. People do.

A proper bar back. Whatever's behind your bar will end up in dozens of photos because that's where people queue, chat and pose. A length of festoons, a bit of foliage with warm bulbs threaded through, or a neon sign over the back shelf is enough. Bare trestle tables under a strip light are not.

Pathway lights for getting people from A to B. If your ceremony's in one spot and the reception's in another, especially at a country venue where the path runs across grass or through a courtyard, lanterns or solar stake lights along the route are a small touch that older guests in particular will quietly appreciate. Nobody wants to navigate wet grass in heels by phone torch.

What's not worth the money

Dance floor monograms projected onto the floor. They look great in the brochure and rubbish in real life. Washed out by the room lights, blocked by people's feet, never in the photos. Skip.

Anything described as a "lighting feature" by a wedding planner without a price next to it. Ask for the price.

Sparkler send-offs. Lovely idea. Slightly chaotic in practice. Half your guests will be in cabs by then and the wind in Devon will blow them out before the photographer's ready. Worth doing if you really want to, but don't build the night around it.

Coloured wash lighting that turns the whole room blue or purple. It looks dramatic for about ten minutes and then everyone in the room looks like they've got food poisoning in the photos.

A note on the marquee question

If you're in a marquee, lighting is non-negotiable. The roof eats light. Whatever the supplier suggests as standard, get a bit more than that, but warm, not bright. You want people to look good in the photos and feel relaxed, not interrogated.

Don't forget the in-between bits

The ceremony aisle, the cake table, the entrance where guests arrive: these are all lighting moments people forget about because they're not where the dancing happens. A pair of standing lanterns at the entrance to the venue is a small thing that sets the tone before guests even walk in. A single warm spot on the cake means it actually photographs properly when it's cut, instead of disappearing into a dim corner. Tiny investments. Big difference.

The thing nobody tells you is that the lighting you remember from your own wedding probably won't be the bit you planned hardest. It'll be the moment the festoons came on at dusk while everyone was still outside with a drink, or the way the candles on the long table looked once the speeches were done. The big stuff is fine. It's the small, warm, slightly accidental moments that do the work.

Sort that bit, and you'll be alright.