But it wasn’t just about regularly upgrading his equipment and keeping up with evolving trends.
He had a natural eye for detail, easily interpreting the way light moves, and reading people’s behaviour and mannerisms to recognise their individual trademark poses.
His quick-thinking brain, which has helped him stay one step ahead of brides to avoid their dresses coming into contact with just-shined wedding car tyres, and such, has also granted him his Midas touch.
Mr Wright says most decisions in his life have been made during five seconds of madness.
And most of them have paid off.
As a 17-year-old and fresh out of school in 1969, he walked into Shepparton’s Varloine Photographic Studio in Wyndham St to apply for a job.
It was a camera shop primarily, but had an in-store studio, where brides would line up to be photographed on their wedding days, before on-location bridal photography came into trend.
Mr Wright swept floors, cleaned windows and polished whatever needed polishing, all the while keeping a wide aperture on his surroundings.
“I would watch him (his boss, Lloyd Telfer) in the studio,” he said.
“As time progressed, I just learned more about lighting, about posing, about expression.”
Six years later, in 1975, the studio closed.
On the cusp of marriage to Lorraine, Mr Wright was inspired by the closure to start his own business, printing black and white photographs out of his shed at the newlyweds’ home.
“There’s probably more to this, I thought, so then I opened up a camera store and studio in High St,” Mr Wright said.
“In those days, people only just bought a 10-by-eight photo to put on the wall, and I thought, there’s got to be more to this, so I investigated.”
The largely self-taught memory-maker sought out master photographers to watch and learn from.
He closed the camera store and converted the premises solely into a studio, before moving to Varloine Cottage in Wyndham St 30 years ago, a warm and welcoming space he still loves as much, if not more, today.
Throughout the years, he became a master in his own right and travelled far and wide across Australia in the 1990s, lecturing about his craft to impart his knowledge to other photographers.
Watching industry peers rise and fall when they didn’t move away from simple studio shots to storybook style for weddings, rejected colour photography, failed to market their services properly, or were slow to adopt digital photography, Mr Wright credits his five-seconds-of-madness rule to setting his business apart from others.
In what is a true family affair, Mrs Wright has helped with school photography in the past, while the couple’s son, Stuart, is an integral part of daily operations.
“He’s my employee. He’s my son. He’s everything. I couldn’t survive without him, because he knows the technical side now too,” Mr Wright said.
“I have met some of the most beautiful people in my life, in business, and a lot of those weddings, I’ve photographed their kids, and their debs, and in return, I’ve actually played for a lot of their funerals, the parents’ funerals.
“So it just becomes community.”
Also an organist and men’s mental wellness group facilitator, Mr Wright, who’s now in his 70s, has no plans to lay down his camera and surrender to full retirement just yet.
He’s determined to keep shooting his shot for as long as he enjoys it, but knows he’ll make that choice some day.
“Like Kenny Rogers said, you’ve got to know when to hold ’em or know when to fold ’em,” Mr Wright said.
“You’re a bloody peacock for all those years and the next day, you’re a feather duster.”
