Milan and Padua, Italy
“I pretend to be a photographer, but I’m more inclined to be a bum.”
Some people have a seemingly uncanny knack for finding their way into the most intriguing situations. When the unusual is nowhere to be found, they manage to make sparks of the mundane.
Italian photographer Alfred Agostinelli seems to have been born for the very purpose of experiencing life as a set of remarkable circumstances.
“I come from a valley at the foot of the Alps, the kind of place where you can set Grimm’s fairy tales or where there’s still the risk a raging crowd chase you with torches and pitchforks if it turns out that you can read a book. I live now in an old synagogue not far from Venice.”
With a heart for adventure (Alfred's primary concerns while taking these photos: “to get through the day without dropping the camera in a puddle of water or falling from the roof of the cathedral myself.”) and a tendency towards “delirium and disruption,” it seems Venice resident repels the ordinary or otherwise molds it to his will.
While the shoot reflected some of his narrative designs alongside the pace and content of his daily existence, Alfred's ideal spread lies elsewhere, in Lofoten, Norway.
I lived there for a while and I think it’s a special place ‘cause of its subversive nature. A land without a sunset is a sublime act of anarchy. It gives you the feeling of abandoning the last bourgeois cliché: The alternation between day and night.”
If you need a soundtrack to Alfred's photos, he recommends that you listen to Laid Back's “Bakerman,” though he says his aesthetic mindset is closer to bands like Throbbing Gristle.
BROWSE BY COUNTRY
Gabriella Maria Serra
Monica Lopez de Victoria
Mr. Henry X