Eleven years ago a friend asked me to bring my camera to her thirtieth. I spent the night mostly in corners, and the photographs that came out of it were not the ones anyone had asked for. They were her father figuring out the playlist. Her sister crying at the toast and laughing two seconds later. That is still the work.
Since then I have photographed weddings in five countries, two hundred corporate evenings, and more long dinners than I can reasonably count. I work quietly and from the edges. I will move a chair if it is ruining a frame, and I will absolutely tell your uncle where to stand for the family photograph, but that is as directorial as I get.
What you get back is the night in order, warm and slightly unpolished, the way you will remember it in ten years.