CHIAMO IO CHIAMI TU

In its sixth year, Vedomusica continues to explore the landscape of Italian music video: in the face of a continuously evolving music scene, where the boundaries between mainstream and indie are becoming increasingly permeable, new generations of visual creators are emerging with their own distinctive aesthetic identity – directors who are capable of engaging with the international circuit while maintaining their unique artistic voice. In this context, the twenty titles in this section act as a kind of roadmap; they offer a critical approach to what this ‘short’ language is saying in present-day Italy. The aim is to provide an overview of the diverse perspectives and styles in using a medium that, by intercepting the zeitgeist and its dominant themes, seeks to tune in with the audience. It looks at current events from unexpected angles, endorses collective imaginations, updates devices, renews formulas, and experiments with techniques. After votes from the public via Instagram stories and from the selection committee, resulting in three nominations each, the shortlist of twenty films will be narrowed down to six that will be presented during the festival. At this point, a quality jury will pronounce the winner. As every year, Vedomusica will also offer a Focus on one of the most remarkable figures in Italian videomaking: Simone Peluso.

Simone Peluso was born in Bologna in August 1997. He first became interested in filmmaking through parkour, where he began documenting his group’s afternoon training sessions, experimenting with different shooting formats and developing a passion for editing. Together with his brother, a music producer, he became involved in the world of music videos. Simone moved to Milan seven years ago, but his aim is to avoid settling in one place and to remain open to new projects that bring him into contact with different cultures. In 2023, he won the award for “Best Director Under 25” at the Videoclip Italia Awards, whilst in 2025 he won the award for “Best Director.” Known for his work in the music industry, Simone creates images that are both powerful and sensitive. Passionate about astrology, naturopathy, and everything related to human psychology, Simone creates images filled with symbolism, themes he hopes to explore in his future narrative projects.

Luca Pacilio

How did music videos enter your life?
I didn’t have an academic training: I studied graphics and communication at high school because I was generally interested in digital media. I got into videomaking almost for fun, filming parkour, which I was passionate about. The decisive encounter with music, however, took place thanks to my brother’s recording studios in Bologna. I started out making videos for up-and-coming artists who came by, driven only by a desire to experiment. From then on, I never stopped – I would switch from directing a single to being responsible for the projects’ visual identity.

A distinct visual identity has been clearly visible since your earliest works. Were you aware that you were creating a unique language, or did you realise this afterwards?
My style emerged instinctively. I only managed to figure it out thanks to the perspective of other people. My distinctive register is the coexistence of two opposing worlds: on the one hand, a ‘dirty,’ organic, and rigorous language; on the other hand, a spiritual drive fuelled by my passion for psychology, astrology, and naturopathy. In my works, I try to create a dialogue between these two realms, transfiguring the aesthetic ‘muck’ through inward searching.

Your videos showcase an almost photographic attention to the body, anatomical details, and corporeality.
My imagination was struck when I saw Larry Clark’s Kids. I felt as though that world belonged to me. This attraction is connected with a profound corporeality, which derives from my five-year experience with parkour and the strong sporting imprint I received from my father, who is a martial arts instructor. Life for me has been sweat, concrete, and dirty hands: observing bodies working out in an urban setting created in me an unconscious bond with that kind of aesthetics, which I now transpose into my videos.

This explains a lot about your working method with actors and the amazing quality of their performances.
I don’t consider myself as a director who works conventionally. Let’s say that most of my directing takes place during the research phase. Rather than imposing my vision during filming, I choose people who are naturally in tune with the project, going along with and emphasising what happens spontaneously in front of the camera. Take this example: for Blanco’s Paraocchi, we wanted to evoke an imaginary reminiscent of the East, but without inventing a character on a theoretical level: he is restless by nature, he moves like this in real life. My task was simply to draw out his personality and give a visual definition of what he already is.

How did you negotiate your vision with that of Måneskin for Zitti e Buoni?
Måneskin were already well-known at the time, but they still hadn’t won all that they were going to win. Their request was clear: each member was to have their own section, an individual abstract world, and not just be seen as a group. We devised a setting divided into boxes so that everyone had their own space. Initially, it was supposed to be a very complex thing, incorporating natural elements… always this relationship between order and chaos, which is a reflection of my inner world.

You often choose film stock, with those acid, grainy colours. It seems like a rebellion against the ruling cleanliness of the digital.
Choosing film for me is not just an aesthetic question, but is something much deeper, akin to my sensitivities. It has to do with the idea of dirt and organicity that I pursue: I am fascinated by knowing that what we see is real, an instant physically imprinted on a support, and not just a sequence of pixels. Moreover, there is a stimulating psychological component in tackling the limits of the medium; relinquishing total control and adjusting to a finite matter forces you to a more rigorous and authentic creative approach.

The video of Mina and Blanco’s Un briciolo d’allegria is a standout chapter in your videography. Almost a mannerist work. How did you come up with the noir concept?
The main challenge was to combine the seemingly irreconcilable worlds of Mina and Blanco using a memorable language that would bring them into harmony. We landed on the noir aesthetics of classic cinema, which allowed both to preserve the image of Mina as something eternal and timeless and to offer Blanco a fresh way of presenting himself. The use of sharp contrasts and chiaroscuro lighting was crucial on a practical level too: thus, we coped with Mina’s physical absence from the set, turning it into a suggestive, mysterious presence.

You decided to make the video of Bruciasse il cielo without Blanco appearing on screen.
We wanted an out-of-the-box project to mark a change of course. The idea not to feature Blanco came from his desire, and I quickly took up the challenge: we bet everything on the global imaginary, giving him only a short cameo at the end, to experiment with a new and different aesthetic language.

What is your technical approach to the music track?
The process begins with a deep, relaxed listening in order to evoke the first spontaneous images, followed by an almost obsessive phase to bring colours and feelings into focus. Typically, all departs from a single, dazzling image which I then expand to construct a complete visual world. It’s like working on a jigsaw puzzle: I break the song down into its constituent parts – strophes, refrains, and bridge – and then search for the perfect visual piece to fit each fragment of sound.

Do you see the music video as a final destination or as a stepping stone towards new languages?
In the beginning, it was merely a means to practise filmmaking. Over the years, it has become a fundamental training ground for bringing my tastes and worlds of reference into focus. By experimenting with this medium, I have been able to develop the awareness that is currently pushing me towards pure narrative fiction, bringing along all that I have discovered about myself.