AmoreFebruary 2026

The format was built backwards: take away the guests, the timeline and the seating chart, and see what is left. What was left was two people, an empty auditorium and an evening put together like a short film. The idea came out of one question we asked with the photographer and the team: what if a celebration is not about the number of people at all?

It begins in the corridor of a cinema. Red carpet, wooden doors, posters behind glass — one of them “Cléo de 5 à 7”. She is in a white satin dress with a standing collar and long black gloves, he is in a black tuxedo with a bow tie. Red tulips lie on the floor where they were put down.

On the way to the auditorium there is a photo booth with a red curtain and bulbs along the mirror. While the strip of black-and-white frames develops, there is time for a second look: a short sequinned dress, red tights, the same red lipstick.

Inside, rows of red director's chairs stand in place of cinema seats. The lights go down, a black-and-white film runs on the screen, and from there they simply watch it together: popcorn flies up, the box passes from hand to hand, one of them turns to the camera. Between scenes — a clapperboard against the red curtain, because all of this was shot like a film too.

Towards the end the veil appears — plain tulle over the shoulders, warm light, dark red velvet behind her. Then the room empties: popcorn on the floor between the chairs, two rows of red canvas, the title “Private Screening” over the last frame. A date sits in the corner of every shot, the way it did on old amateur film.

There were two guests. And the same number of viewers.