Angelo Papagni
Arts Mid North Coast
Angelo Papagni is a 22-year-old multidisciplinary artist currently based in Fernmount, NSW (Gumbaynggir country), who specialises in photography. Over the past few years he has explored both traditional and modern photographic practices, with an emphasis on black & white photography. His practice has been informed by cultural experiences throughout his youth, and consequently he strives to communicate the essence of the human experience, both personal and shared, usually carried out with a tinge of a nostalgia.
Angelo enjoys touching on various subjects, although he has a tendency to be attracted to people, their behaviour, physiognomy, individual & cultural identity. He is currently developing his portfolio of work and is studying to better improve his technical knowledge in the field. Angelo also enjoys drawing, and although it differs both stylistically and thematically from his photography, it plays an important role in his artistic practice, allowing for a more unregulated and childlike creative outlet. He wishes to further explore the photographic practice, and experiment extensively in both technical and artistic aspects, with an introduction of new stylistic elements, subjects, concepts and photographic mediums.
Some of Angelo’s work is enriched by poetry, or prose, often-times tied to the intimate experiences surrounding the images. This, more recently, has begun to gain equal significance within his creative practice.
Links
aglassofwaterandalookaround
Artwork description
‘aglassofwaterandalookaround’, 2024, Photographs
Artist Statement
Farmer’s friend or farmer’s foe
on these mad hills where stickybeaks grow
Chrysum jewels to the Autumn sun
& straight through, over the sleeping breath.
9/4/24 – Ebor – 9:00
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Like stepping into the far corner of a cavern;
such is the air of ‘out back’.
And you breathe it well & clear, with all its rusting dust & dogstars,
& suddenly you turn around & it’s so flat you feel you’re in the deepest of deep ends.
And so every hour-mile begins to simplify, & blur, & time washes away a bit,
till you feel the land & wade in its symbols & dream yourself the meanings of faces
& strange happenings.
All becomes coincidence, so often treading the lines of fate.
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Foreign as silence in the mouth of a crow
Silver Darling, Barwon & red-gummed beds
the west-wind swept, making home of high banks
How the plains leave me, with more questions than truths
and white rivers keep me calling at their flanks
Silken are the pages, as your touch may see,
but will the verses come together at your far-eye’s throw?
It frightened, that darkness, and yet the silence spoke
of ghostly softness, and I felt a little close.