A Brazilian Court Hotel Wedding: A Hundred Years of Stories
A Brazilian Court Hotel wedding starts with a hundred years of history already in the room. The hotel opened on New Year’s Day, 1926, designed by Rosario Candela — the same architect behind some of New York’s most sought-after apartment buildings. It’s a designated historic landmark now. The Kennedy family once kept rooms here. Suites still carry names like Audrey Hepburn and Gary Cooper. Black-and-white Terry O’Neill portraits of old Hollywood line the hallways.
And yet none of that makes it feel grand. Tucked onto a quiet residential street a few blocks from the water, it feels more like someone’s elegant private home than a hotel with a century of guests.
Old Hollywood, Kept Current
That contrast — real history, real intimacy — was the feeling I wanted to build the whole day around. Old Hollywood glamour, the same kind this hotel has housed since Hepburn and Cooper, but current instead of costumed.
The bride’s getting-ready robe set that tone early. Sheer white chiffon, long flowing sleeves, the kind of silhouette that belonged on a 1970s film set. She wore it in a courtyard dripping in vines.
The groom adjusted his own bow tie in the checkered hallway before anyone else arrived. The bride’s dress stayed simple and unfussy on purpose, so the room around her could do some of the talking: a cathedral-length veil, a pair of Jimmy Choos that earned their own quiet moment on the hardwood. Later, kids took over the green couch entirely, deep into a game of tic-tac-toe while the adults sipped whiskey around them — the kind of unscripted moment that never makes it into a wedding gallery but is exactly the part I love shooting.
Finding the Shot
Some of the best spots in a venue like this take real looking to find. We found ours — a quiet corner near the piano, and that staircase. We used it on purpose, sending the two of them walking up together while the light from the chandelier hit just right.
A few minutes later, the gallery wall down that same hallway became the backdrop for a quick kiss. That kind of shot only works when you already know the building well enough to know exactly where to look.
The Toasts
The ceremony happened in the courtyard, under an arch built from monstera leaves and warm citrus-toned florals, with a live violinist playing as they exchanged vows.
The reception dining room glowed — round tables dressed in white linen, candlelit floral centerpieces in warm pinks and oranges, lights strung overhead like vines against the black-framed arched windows. It felt intimate even with a full room, which is exactly what a space like that should do. But the best part of the night wasn’t the room. It was the toasts. The bride’s father and her brothers each stood up. What they said about her was funny, unguarded, genuinely sweet — the kind of thing you can’t script. The whole room landed somewhere between laughing and tearing up. It reminded me of the many photos I’d taken of this family over the years and was such a beautiful representation of how much they all love each other. Being able to photograph that on such a special day was an honor to be a part of.
