Italian here.

The night of the Oscar, when the maestro won the award, I was partying at the Four Seasons (traditional spot to party after the Oscars). The place was full of energies.

In a dark corner, on the other side of the restaurant, I see the Maestro having dinner with his wife and his son. Their silence and composure bled elegance.

What a great metaphor. On one side, a crowd of wannabes acting as the night, and the Oscars belonged to them. On the other side, silent and calm, one of the men that has given the most to the history of cinemà.

I never approach professionals of this industry for mundane reasons. However, for the Maestro, I had to make an exception

I walked through the restaurant, passing through painted faces and too big smiles. While the Oscar was staring at us, impassive, from the corner of the table, I approached him, I leant in, and I only told him "Maestro, Grazie Mille per tutto quello che ci ha regalato." (Master, thank you for everything that you gave to us).

With the smile of a child, and the eyes almost in tears, he hug me and he told me " Grazie a lei giovanotto. (Thank you, young man).

Ennio Morricone. The Maestro.