Reportage, natural light, editorial compositions

We do not need much to begin: where, when, roughly how many people, and how you imagine the day. We will ask for a video call, because the more we know about you, the more the story becomes yours. The timeline of the day usually comes from your planner, and we follow it.

Two pieces of advice we give everyone, already at that stage. If the ceremony will have vows written by you or speeches by your guests, keep the texts: after the wedding we will ask you for them, for the subtitles. And the music that matters, before the film, is the music of the key moments of the day: the ceremony, the entrance, the first dance. Ask whoever is playing what is on their list, and change it if it does not sound like you. The style of the day passes through there, and the film follows it afterwards.

We arrive early, and we are quiet. The preparations are the most intimate hours of the day: people laugh and cry in the same room, and we speak only when needed, in a low voice. That day we are not the protagonists. The only thing we ask is a window: make-up, hair and the dress in natural light look like the morning, not like a shop.

At the ceremony we observe. If it is a religious rite we film what happens and do not intervene, so as not to touch something that will not happen twice. If it is a civil ceremony with vows you wrote yourselves, even better: that is where the film finds its words. Then the portraits of the two of you, brief, in the light of the afternoon: you walk, you talk, you hold hands, we are a few steps away. We prefer you to take the initiative, and if you do not, we will give you a sentence, not a pose.

From the reception on, the day belongs to the guests, and to the energy in the room. We follow it: the toasts, the faces, the dancing, the cake at midnight. No list of must-have shots, no guests kept waiting while a picture is set up, no moment repeated for the camera. There is no right way to stand in front of us and we will never ask you to be a certain way. You just have to be yourselves, we will take care of the rest.

Natural light first, always. It is the light that looks like the day you lived, and it is the kindest to faces. In the afternoon we look for the backlight, the flare the sun makes when it is low; indoors we look for the window. Flash and artificial lights come out at night, when the party asks for them, and even then as little as possible.

This also decides when. If you ask us what time the ceremony should be, we will answer with the sun: an hour or two before it sets, the light in Sicily does things that no lamp can.

We love geometry and clean scenes. A doorway, a line of hedges, a wall of lava stone: the place is part of the story, and we frame it like a page, so that the moment happening inside the frame is the only thing you see. We avoid what gets in the way, the open suitcase and the plastic wrapping, and we put the details where they belong: the rings on the stone of the house, the invitation next to the keys, not on a white table.

The film gives you back the sound. The voices, what you said to each other, the music of that night, the murmur around you. It is the part we care about most, because it is the one that really takes you back inside the day when you watch it ten years from now. Vows and speeches are recorded with their own microphones, and when they are long we keep them in full and deliver them separately.

Marco watches every clip from every camera, from the first to the last, and that is where the story takes shape: he learns who the people are, how they look at each other, what the rhythm of that day was. Then he edits, by hand, every single cut. The film rises and falls: if it makes you cry, a moment later it makes you laugh; if it runs fast, soon after it slows down to let you look. It is never a straight timeline, and it never follows a fixed script, because your story is not a copy of somebody else's.

The music is chosen after we have seen you: it comes from the footage, from the rhythm of the day and from who you are. If you send us yours, we listen carefully; some may make it in, all of them help us understand you. Carlo, in the meantime, chooses and develops the photographs one by one, including the carousel. Nothing is handed to anyone else.

Every couple brings a rhythm, an energy, a light. Our job is to listen to all of that and give it back with the right editing and the right music. That is why two of our films can look like they were shot by two different people: they were not, and that is exactly the point.

So, who we are: a studio of two authors, present in person at every wedding we take, one wedding a day. We do not direct, we do not stage, we do not send someone in our place. We work in Sicily because it is home and because we know its light; we travel when the story is worth telling elsewhere. If you are looking for a long session of poses, a checklist of photographs, or whoever happens to be free that Saturday, we are not the right people, and we would rather tell you now.