Hi, I’m Simone “Guerrino” Aprile, an Italian visual author and documentary photographer based in Gran Canaria.
The nickname Guerrino is more than a pseudonym. It is a legacy inherited from my great-grandfather, Giovanni Dorcich, a well-known photographer who worked in Pisa and Marina di Pisa. Long before I ever picked up a camera, photography was already part of my family’s history. For me, it was never simply a profession or a hobby. It became a way of understanding people and my place in the world.

Growing up, my visual language was shaped as much by photography as by skateboarding, surfing, hip-hop culture, graffiti, airbrushing, painting, and the raw aesthetics of the street. Those worlds taught me to value authenticity over perfection and substance over appearance.

Life eventually forced me to slow down. A chronic pain condition affected me for sixteen years, making me give up many of the things I loved. At the same time, years of bullying and social isolation taught me something far more valuable than resilience: empathy. They changed the way I approach people, allowing me to recognise vulnerability without judgment and to build trust where strangers often expect distance.

Peru marked the first real turning point. Living among local communities, I discovered a different way of looking at both photography and human relationships. The camera gradually stopped being the subject of my work and became simply the bridge that allowed genuine encounters to happen.
The defining chapter came later, in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria.
There, I lost almost everything and found myself living on the streets. My camera became the only tool I had left. I photographed surfers, travellers, workers and strangers, accepting only voluntary donations or exchanging portraits for food, a shower, or a place to sleep. During that period I experienced an extraordinary generosity from people who often had very little themselves. Those encounters permanently changed my understanding of photography.

They taught me that photographs are not simply images.
They are trust. They are memory. They are human exchange.

Today, my work moves between portraiture, reportage, documentary filmmaking, and visual communication. Whether I am documenting a craftsman, a surfer, an artist, a forgotten neighbourhood, or someone I have just met by chance, I approach every story in exactly the same way: with curiosity, respect, and the willingness to listen before pressing the shutter.
I don’t chase perfect photographs.
I chase meaningful encounters.
Everything else is simply the consequence of that.