Wedding Videography Victoria | TREE STUDIO Videography

Who Am I, and How Did My Journey Bring Me to Tree Studio?

I don’t have a dramatic story to entertain you—nothing like someone who received an 8mm film camera as a birthday gift from his dad when he was eight years old and explored the world through a lens.

My story is simple. Maybe even plain.

Back in the spring of 2012, I was working at one of Melbourne’s top wedding videography studios.
My mentor, John, was the studio manager and a highly respected wedding videographer in Melbourne.

He had a sharp eye for storytelling and a reputation that many admired. People called him “Master John.” I was lucky to be his wedding videographer assistant. He was strict, but he believed in me. He once said, “You might be the one to carry on my legacy.”

In my second year, he let me shoot weddings on my own in Melbourne

I followed everything he taught—how to pose couples, how to frame each shot, how to move with cinematic precision.

The results were solid. Technically clean. Clients were happy. I felt proud.
But something didn’t sit right.

One day, while reviewing a highlight reel, I noticed all the weddings looked the same.
Same poses. Same lighting. Same movement. Nothing felt personal. It didn’t feel like them.
I started to wonder: was I over-directing? Was I capturing a moment—or just creating one?

Around that time, I stumbled upon some British travel documentaries on YouTube—unscripted, emotional, honest.

It made me think: what if weddings were filmed like that?
What if I stepped back, gave the couple space, and just let the day unfold?

At the next wedding, I tried something different.

I offered minimal direction. I let people relax, be themselves.
I focused on observation, not control.

The result surprised me. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt real.
It captured the emotion of the day. The couple. Their story.

I called it: natural and candid wedding videography.

Excited, I showed the video to Master John the next day.
He watched it twice without saying a word.

Then his face turned serious. “Why didn’t you direct them?” he asked.
“I wanted to show who they really are,” I replied.

He shook his head. “This looks lazy. It’s not professional—no structure, no polish.”
I tried to explain what I was going for.

But he cut me off: “Listen to me—or leave.”

I left—with a heart full of anxiety and unease.

Not because I didn’t respect him—
but because, for the first time, I knew exactly what I wanted to create.

A seed had been planted deep in my heart:
to craft a style of wedding videography in Melbourne that truly reflects each couple—their character, their connection, and the atmosphere of their day—captured organically and authentically, through the eyes of a wedding videographer who understands those fleeting, real moments.

After I insisted on using my natural, candid style for the next few weddings, the very next day, Master John called me into his office.

He looked at me and said firmly, “I gave you a chance, but you’re not willing to listen. I think you don’t fit in my team now.”

I didn’t argue. Honestly, I knew it would happen one day—from the moment Master John and I stood at different directions at the crossroads.

A few days later, I received my final payment—$1,450—from Master John’s accountant.
He kept his word and remained the exacting mentor I had always known.

I understood that he wasn’t just pushing me away—he was also someone who firmly believed in his own vision of what wedding films should be.

I still respected him deeply and was grateful for everything he taught me.

After leaving, I went through a tough six months—no weddings, no work, no income.
But it was during that time I started to think seriously: If I wanted to follow my own path, I had to start from scratch.

I came up with the name Tree Studio—an authentic wedding videographer dedicated to reviving the true essence of a wedding day, capturing genuine inspiration and the real love between couples.

A symbol of nature, growth, rootedness, and life—just like a marriage should be.

With no team and no resources, I wrote the copy myself, built the website, learned marketing—everything from the ground up.

In my second year, I filmed 17 weddings in Melbourne. Not many, but enough to prove something to myself.

And it gave me just enough cash flow to deal with the pressing financial needs I was facing.

Then came a big moment—a Greek couple walked into my little studio.

They had 350 guests and had already met two other videographers. One of them was John.
Their parents preferred John’s elegant, classic style.

But the couple leaned toward something more relaxed, more real.
I didn’t mention my past with John. I just told them, “It’s your wedding. You should go with what feels right.”

Two weeks later, they chose Tree Studio.

I won’t say this was a landmark moment where I triumphed over John.
It was a win for authenticity.

Over the years, Tree Studio started to grow.

New talents joined—Mark, a creative young filmmaker with a fine-art eye. Clients loved his work, and soon, he started suggesting ways to refine our style.

At first, I resisted.

Then one day, during a team meeting, Mark openly challenged my approach.
I got defensive and said the words I never thought I’d repeat: “Listen to me—or go away.”

Mark walked out without saying anything.

The room was silent.

And I realized—I had become what I once walked away from.

That night, I asked myself again: Who am I?

The truth is, there’s no single “right” way to tell a love story.

A tree doesn’t grow from just one root. It grows from many.

The next day, I apologized to Mark.

He accepted. We found common ground. And Tree Studio became even stronger.

I dialed John’s phone number—the one I hadn’t called in the last five years.

Within just a few seconds, dear John, my mentor, spoke to me just like five years ago:

“Hi, my best boy. How’s it going?”

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