New York really is the crossroads of the world, and international weddings have become a specialty of mine, from marrying middle-aged working-class British couples at Bethesda Fountain in Central Park to an all-French, in French ceremony in the Gilded Age Salon of a brownstone on 37th Street; from a Korean-American bride with her veil full of bees at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden to an Australian-Portuguese backyard luau under the BQE in Williamsburg. Most extreme location: either a Spanish bi-lingual ceremony between October rainstorms on the deserted beach at Coney Island or out on the observation deck on the 67th floor of the Top of the Rock in January (see photo below). Most challenging (read terrifying and satisfying): the wedding of a hearing-impaired bride and her profoundly deaf groom, with the help of two interpreters, but I insisted on signing the asking, vows and ring ceremony myself, so they wouldn’t be watching somebody else when I said “repeat after me.” Loveliest (and completely domestic) was the wedding of two Tribeca artists who met in the weeks after 9/11, and were wed at Stone Barns at Blue Hills, with the Rockefeller fields and livestock within mooing distance of a bride in a celandine gown worthy of a portrait by John Singer Sargent. (see photo below.)