The Epic Family Photo of 1920

Rich Italian Father’s Quest for Perfect Family Portrait Turns into Hilarious Circus as 1920s Bellini Clan Fails to Understand Basic Photography, Ignites Chaos, and Nearly Misses 5-Year-Old’s Birthday Candles in the Process

It was the year 1920, and Italy was alive with the energy of a new decade. In a grand villa nestled among the rolling hills of Tuscany, the wealthy and somewhat eccentric Antonio Bellini was preparing for a momentous occasion. Today, his youngest son, Giovanni, was turning five years old, and Antonio had decided that nothing could commemorate such an event more than a family portrait.

Antonio had spent the better part of the morning coordinating the arrangements. The lavish family estate was bustling with activity as servants rushed to and fro, preparing the garden where the portrait would be taken. A large, ornate frame had been placed in the garden, and the sun shone down in its full glory, as if nature itself knew how important this day was.

“Signore Bellini, the photographer has arrived,” announced Luca, the ever-dutiful but slightly nervous butler.

Antonio’s chest puffed up with pride. “Ah, perfect timing! Let’s get this done with grace and elegance.”

The photographer, a slightly haggard man named Giuseppe, adjusted his camera with the precision of someone who had spent decades in his craft. He stood with a small tripod, and the large, bulky camera loomed over him like a giant mechanical beast. The click and clatter of the camera lens adjusting echoed in the garden.

“Is everything set, Giuseppe?” Antonio asked, eyeing the setup with a mix of excitement and impatience.

“Si, Signore Bellini. Everything is ready,” Giuseppe responded, wiping his brow. He glanced nervously at the family members who had already gathered. They were a lively bunch, full of curiosity and unintentional mischief.

The family, it seemed, had never had a professional portrait taken. They were used to the old hand-drawn portraits hanging on the walls of their home, and the idea of posing for a photograph was completely foreign to them. Each one of them, from the dignified grandmother to the mischievous cousins, was utterly clueless about the process.

Antonio clapped his hands loudly. “Gather around! Let’s make this quick; Giovanni needs to blow out his birthday candles in the next fifteen minutes!”

As the family began to shuffle together, there was a visible lack of coordination. Antonio’s eldest daughter, Isabella, looked uncertain, holding her five-year-old brother Giovanni’s hand as though she wasn’t quite sure where to stand. Giovanni, on the other hand, was more concerned with the butterfly that was fluttering by. He pointed at it excitedly, completely oblivious to the momentous task at hand.

“Giovanni! Look here!” Antonio barked. But Giovanni was still staring at the butterfly, his face filled with wonder.

“Papa, the butterfly is so pretty!” Giovanni said, tugging at his sister’s sleeve.

“Giovanni! Eyes to the camera!” Antonio shouted, his frustration starting to bubble over.

Meanwhile, Antonio’s wife, Maria, was struggling with her position. She had, rather conspicuously, decided that the best place to stand was right next to Antonio, but in doing so, had managed to block the view of both her sister, Enrica, and the elderly aunt, Paola, who was standing slightly behind her. The awkwardness was palpable as Maria adjusted her dress in an attempt to look poised, inadvertently causing Enrica to step back into the rose bushes.

“Enrica! Watch out for the thorns!” Maria exclaimed as her sister yelped in surprise, trying to backpedal without losing her balance.

“Where do I go?” Paola asked from behind Maria, her glasses slipping down her nose. “Should I stand here?”

“No! Over there! On the other side, near Giovanni,” Antonio instructed, but the family members were so lost in their own confusion that no one was paying attention to the order.

Giuseppe, the photographer, cleared his throat loudly and adjusted his camera. “Signore, perhaps we should try to—”

“Hold on!” Antonio snapped. “Everyone needs to stand still and face the camera! Giovanni, focus!”

Giovanni, still entranced by the butterfly, tried to inch away from Isabella, who was now doing her best to hold him in place by gently tugging on his sleeve.

“It’s not hard to look at the camera, Giovanni,” Isabella said with exasperation.

But Giovanni turned to look at a small bird hopping around the garden, his attention now fully diverted.

Antonio sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. His frustration was mounting. “Giovanni! The camera! Please!”

Giuseppe, ever the professional, adjusted his glasses and gave a knowing smile. “Perhaps a few moments of peace, Signore Bellini.”

Antonio clenched his fists. "I don’t need peace, Giuseppe! I need a portrait!"

At that very moment, Antonio’s younger brother, Lorenzo, who had arrived fashionably late, stepped into the frame. “Ah, I see the family portrait is underway. My dear Antonio, you’ve outdone yourself with this beautiful setting,” he said, completely oblivious to the chaos unfolding before him. He stood tall and proud, flashing a bright smile as he tried to sneak his way into the center of the group, despite already being told to stand on the right.

“Lorenzo!” Antonio shouted, pointing at him. “You’re supposed to be over there! Not in the middle! Move!”

Lorenzo chuckled sheepishly and sidestepped with exaggerated slowness, causing a ripple of confusion among the others. The children began to fidget, not understanding why they had to stand still. Giovanni let out a loud giggle as he ran towards a gardener who was trimming the hedges nearby.

“Giovanni, don’t run off!” Isabella cried, chasing after him.

“Giovanni, come back!” Antonio shouted in a commanding tone, but it only seemed to encourage his son’s curiosity.

The photographer, who had been patient up until this point, began to sweat visibly. The camera, an imposing contraption, was becoming heavier with every moment. He wiped his brow and made several futile attempts to adjust the lens, hoping for a moment of calm.

Meanwhile, Antonio’s mother, the matriarch of the family, stood motionless, not quite sure whether to smile or look serious. She had only ever seen photographs in the newspapers, where people looked calm and composed—yet this was far from what she was accustomed to. She stared at the camera with a furrowed brow, unsure if she was supposed to do something.

“Why do I have to smile?” she muttered, shifting her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of repositioning, miscommunication, and chaos, Antonio’s patience finally reached its breaking point.

“Enough!” he roared, his voice booming across the garden. “LOOK. AT. THE. CAMERA!”

For a brief, glorious moment, everyone froze. Giovanni stopped chasing the butterfly, Isabella stopped tugging at her brother’s sleeve, and even Lorenzo managed to step out of the way. The family members all aligned—mostly—with the camera, though some still had slightly confused expressions. But at least they were looking in the right direction.

“Giuseppe, do your magic!” Antonio commanded.

Giuseppe took a deep breath and quickly adjusted the camera, pressing his hands to his sides as if preparing for a battle. With a click of the shutter, the moment was captured. The chaos had finally subsided.

Antonio, panting, wiped his forehead with a handkerchief and looked at his family. “That’s it. We’re done. Finally.”

As everyone began to disperse, Giovanni ran up to his father, a wide grin plastered across his face. “Papa, I saw a butterfly! Did you see it too?”

Antonio chuckled, despite himself. He bent down and hugged his son, his irritation momentarily forgotten. "Yes, Giovanni, I saw the butterfly."

Giuseppe, for his part, gave a small nod. "It’s a good photo. Perfectly chaotic, just like the Bellinis."

Antonio gave a heavy sigh and nodded in agreement. Sometimes, he thought, family portraits were just as much about the memories of the day as they were about the image on the wall.

“Now, Giovanni,” he said, smiling at his son, “let’s get you to those birthday candles before they melt.”

And so, the family, in all its glory, chaos, and charm, continued on with their day, the portrait forever capturing their love, their quirks, and the unforgettable drama of the Bellini family’s first attempt at a family photograph.