QR implementation
Print one QR code, put it where guests are already looking, and say it out loud once. Here is the full setup, in order, with the mistakes that quietly cost you half the photos.
Create a shared album, print its QR code on something that sits on each table, and ask people to scan it once from the microphone. Guests point a phone camera at the code, the album opens in their browser, and they upload straight from their camera roll. No app, no account, no chasing anyone the following week.
The mechanics take about ten minutes, and you can do them tonight with the seating plan open beside you. What decides whether you wake up to fifty photos or five hundred sits in the choices around them, so work through the steps in this order.
Decide three things first, because they're printed into the card and awkward to change afterwards.
Who sees what. A shared album where guests watch photos appear live is the version people enjoy on the night. A private album, where uploads only reach you and your co-hosts, is the one to pick if you've got guests who'd rather not appear on a screen the whole room can see. You can also hide the feed until a reveal time you choose, which gives you the disposable camera surprise without the developing.
Who else can manage it. Add your partner and, if you have one, your planner as co-hosts before the day. On the morning of your wedding you won't be the person with a free hand, and somebody should be able to approve a photo without ringing you.
How long it stays open. Uploads don't stop when the band does. Set the album to run through the whole run of events (the welcome dinner, the day, the brunch) so nobody hits a closed window.
The single biggest lever is where you put the code. Guests scan when they're seated, idle for a moment between courses, and holding a phone anyway.
Put a card on every table. One per table minimum, and on long banquet tables one every four or five seats, because a card in the middle is invisible to the ends. Add one in each bathroom (an unglamorous spot that consistently earns its place) and one at the bar.
Keep the code at least 3cm across on a table card, with clear space around it. Print it dark on a light background rather than the reverse; inverted codes scan slowly in candlelight, and slowly means people give up. Test the printed card, not the file, under something close to reception lighting.
The card needs three lines and nothing else: what it is, what to do, and the album's short link for anyone whose camera won't cooperate. "Share your photos of tonight. Scan, or go to the link. No app needed." Our printed QR card guide covers sizing and stock if you're ordering your own, and the gallery of QR card designs shows finished suites rather than a description of one.
The announcement is the step people skip and then wonder why participation was thin. Somewhere between the speeches and the first dance, have whoever holds the microphone say one sentence: there's a card on your table, scan it. Everything you take tonight goes in one album for the couple. Ten seconds, and it's the cheapest thing on this page.
It works because it turns a card sitting on a table into a request from a host. Across the 45,000+ weddings that have run an album with us, the ones with a spoken prompt are visibly denser in the hour that follows. You can see it in the upload curve.
If nobody's doing announcements, ask your two most extroverted friends to scan early and mention it at their tables. Participation is contagious in a way that signage isn't.
Uploads don't finish on the night. A large share of the video arrives one to four days later, when people are home, on wifi, and clearing their camera roll. The albums that finish with hundreds of photos and videos are almost always the ones that stayed open.
That wave is where the dancing turns up: the speech filmed from three tables away, the last song with everyone's arms in the air!
So don't close the album, and do send one message. A short note in the group chat a few days after (the link, plus a line saying you're still missing the dancing) reliably pulls in the files people meant to upload and forgot. Once the second wave has landed, a photobook built from the finished album is a natural next step. A few couples also add a voice guestbook alongside the photo album for the messages a photo cannot carry.
A code that only exists at the entrance. People arrive holding coats, gifts and drinks, and they won't stop to scan anything.
A code printed too small on the order of service. It scans in daylight at your kitchen table and fails at dusk in a marquee.
Separate albums for each event. Merging them afterwards is manual work you won't do. Use one album per event only if you genuinely want them kept apart as separate keepsakes.
Nobody told the older guests. They're the ones holding the photos of the parts you missed, and the ones most likely to wait until somebody asks them directly.
No. Scanning opens the album in the phone's browser. Guests upload from their camera roll without installing anything or creating an account.
Print the album's short link underneath the code. Anyone whose camera app is old or restricted can type the link instead, and it opens the same album. That one line is what keeps your grandmother's photos in the album.
Yes. Uploads keep their original quality rather than being compressed the way a messaging app or social feed would compress them, so the files are big enough to print and to build a photobook from.
Yes. You and any co-hosts can hide or delete any individual upload at any time, before or after the wedding, and you don't have to explain it to anyone.
One per table, plus the bathrooms and the bar. For long banquet tables, one card every four to five seats, because a single card in the centre doesn't reach the ends.
One printed QR code, no app for guests, full-resolution photos and videos in a single album you keep.
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