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BRAZILIAN MALE MODEL
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares

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Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model
Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares for Brazilian Male Model

    Miguel Ferrari by Julio Tavares photographed exclusive for Brazilian Male Model

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In this photo essay, photographer immerses himself in the timeless atmosphere of the film Call Me By Your Name (Luca Guadagnino, Sony Pictures Classics, 2017), seeking not only to echo the visual poetry of Italy in 1983 but to capture the emotional temperature of that summer. The images drift between vulnerability and a quiet, symbolic sensuality, with the film’s iconic peach subtly reimagined here as a pear — and moments of contemplative stillness. They explore the beauty of languor, of hours suspended between reading, the pool, and the warmth that clings to the skin.


Guided by a direction that values authenticity and the unspoken language of the gaze, the photographer pays homage to the film’s nostalgic palette and the intimacy of its villa, revealing an internal journey shaped by memory. This is not a reconstruction of the past; it is a meditation on the intensity of the present — on discovery, yearning, and the delicate melancholy that lingers long after the sun has set. Echoing the sensibility of masters like Peter Lindbergh, the photographer elevates photography into a form of intimate confession.


The choice to shoot in Santa Teresa — a traditional hillside neighborhood in Rio de Janeiro, creates a subtle yet compelling parallel with Crema, the small Italian town where the film was set. What binds the two places is not geography but atmosphere: the true heart of this essay. Santa Teresa’s winding streets, its sense of isolation from the bustle of Rio’s South Zone, and its slow, unhurried rhythm evoke the essential “vacation idleness” so delicately portrayed in Guadagnino’s film.


The intense Rio light — especially when filtered through old shutters and century-old windows, naturally mirrors the film’s sepia-amber tones, saturated with nostalgia and heat. And with its historic mansions, boutique hotels, pools, and sweeping views, Santa Teresa transforms water into a sanctuary of pleasure, rest, and relief — much like the shimmering lakeside landscapes that shape the soul of Crema.