LC was the cinematographer on the first commercial I ever directed. I was a beginner who showed up asking for a 30-second sequence shot, on location and with a child in the scene. If we got through that, we would get through much more, and that is exactly what happened.
From then on there were so many projects I lost count. The backlands of Brazil, more than once, for ActionAid. The Amazon, for Plan. Rio and São Paulo, countless times, for clients who would not fit in a list.
But there is one scene we always tell.
Haiti, 2011, shortly after the earthquake. We were filming Jenicâ's story. We had agreed on a shot and LC was still building the camera when she placed herself in front of the lens on her own, spontaneous, flawless. I started speaking under my breath, almost whispering: roll, roll, roll. He looked at the monitor, hit REC and began moving the slider. It is one of the best composed shots of that trip. It still gives me chills.
What LC does that almost nobody does is create a natural atmosphere on any set. On the film Nadia, for UNHCR, I looked at the monitor and would have sworn there was not a single light in the room.
He pushes for the time to get the light right and still delivers early, with time left over to give attention to the other departments. When he is done he announces, laughing: "We are only waiting on make-up or sound." He is the storyteller of the crew, with enough road behind him for tales that run from funny to dramatic.
In his spare time, which is anything but spare, he is an inventor. Always building some contraption, optimising an equipment case, researching, studying, and one of the most self-taught people I know. It was that pursuit of perfection that led him to painting, and anyone who sees his light is not surprised to learn he loves Caravaggio. And yes, Claudinho loves shadows, but ask him for any light you want and when you look at the monitor it will be there.
LC is a true co-director. With him I learned that knowledge is passed on, not locked away in a chest.