We capture them on video, properly, while the people who hold them are still here. For families, for the towns that made someone who they are, and for the businesses worth remembering.
The work is the same in all three: a real interviewer, a real camera, and a real person saying something true. What changes is who is in the chair.
A newborn, a parent, a grandparent, or you. Captured while there is still time to do it properly, not in a rushed last week.
A place keeps its stories in the heads of the people who live there. We record them while we can, and we do it before the drone footage, not after.
From a two-generation bakery to a hundred year old brand. Your origin story, told by the person who lived it, on camera.
Almost nobody records their story, because tomorrow always feels safe. Two objects taught the founder of this studio that it is not, and everything here was built around them.
The tape
13:20
Steve's father was given a week to live. He found a cassette recorder and spoke to the son who would grow up without him. Thirteen minutes and twenty seconds. It is the most precious thing the family owns, and it is nowhere near enough.
The photograph
1 still
His mother died with no warning at all. No diagnosis, no last week, no recording of any kind. One photo, half looking at the camera. That is the entire archive of her.
One says the last week is not enough. The other says you may not get a last week. The same is true of a town, and of a business.
Three studios, three disciplines, one engagement. You never manage three suppliers, and no part of this is a bolt-on.
Twenty years of drawing stories out of people, on stages and in rooms, taught Steve how to make a nervous person forget the camera is there. He lost his dad at twelve and inherited a rushed cassette, and he has spent his life making sure other people get more.
A filmmaker and a musician, Dave brings a musician's ear for timing and a father's instinct for what a family will want to keep. He finds the laugh, the pause, the glance you would have missed, and never polishes the person out.
A recording that nobody finds is an archive. Jek designs how a story is met: where it sits, when it appears, what it feels like to walk into. He brings 360 capture, long term memory storage, and reach across Asia Pacific.
It takes all three. The one who knows what to ask, the one who knows how to catch the answer, and the one who knows where it should live.
Most places and businesses have the same two problems in sequence. The stories are not recorded, and then once they are, nobody can find them. Two studios, one job each.
We go and get the story. A real interviewer, a real camera, and the patience to sit with someone until they say the true thing rather than the rehearsed one.
Our sister studio works out the best way to package it so it actually reaches someone. Sixteen years of doing exactly this, pointed at your captured story.
You cannot package a story that was never recorded. So we record it first.
A story this precious deserves to be guarded like one. Every recording is handled by the same doctrine our founder wrote a book about, whether it belongs to a family, a town or a business.
Every recording is stored on archival media and in the cloud, so it survives the decades it is meant to.
We write down who receives what, and when, so nothing is lost and nothing is delivered at the wrong moment.
You own the footage. Families get a named custodian for anything held for the future. Places and businesses keep full rights to everything we capture.
Do it yourself, do it with us, or let us do all of it. Just do not wait for tomorrow.