A Symphony of Antiquities and Aromas: Day 11
Dawn unfurled slowly as I embarked on a solitary pilgrimage to the Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen. The city was hushed, streets emptied of their usual clamor, offering a rare solitude. With only my footsteps as company, I wandered, the echo of each step a soft conversation with the cobblestones.
Dawn unfurled slowly as I embarked on a solitary pilgrimage to the Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen. The city was hushed, streets emptied of their usual clamor, offering a rare solitude. With only my footsteps as company, I wandered, the echo of each step a soft conversation with the cobblestones.
Pen is emptied of ink so instead of writing today…. a piece of wall art saved from today
A week into Paris and not a single croissant had passed my lips—an oversight I intended to correct. Halfway to the flea market, destiny guided me to a boulangerie. The scent of baking bread, a siren call. "Bonjourrrr!" I greeted, pointing eagerly at pastries. The language barrier turned "a croissant, too" into "a croissant, two." A delightful mistake—my bag now heavy with double the anticipated joy. The first bite buckled my knees; buttery, flaky layers dissolving into pure bliss. I paused in a nearby park, surrendering to the indulgence.
After the initial delight of my accidental double croissant indulgence, I ventured onwards, my steps echoing through the quiet morning streets towards the Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen. The market, a sprawling canvas of history, began to stir as shopkeepers gradually lifted their gates, revealing treasures accumulated from centuries past.
The antiques section unfolded like a grand opera of objects, each stall an act in an epic narrative. The first aria was sung by textiles—Victorian lace whispering tales of gas-lit ballrooms, alongside rugged 1950s Americana denim, each thread spun with stories of old worlds and new frontiers. Costumes hung like suspended animations, their fabrics telling of faded operas and long-closed theaters.
As I wandered deeper, the market transformed into a library of olfactory memories. Vintage fragrance bottles lined the shelves like books, each a volume of scented letters. The delicate glass vials of Chanel's early concoctions spoke of chic Parisian nights; Guerlain's Shalimar conjured visions of exotic oriental gardens. Balenciaga's Le Dix held echoes of elegant soirées, while L’Air du Temps by Nina Ricci whispered of post-war hope and renewal. Each scent was a time capsule, waiting to envelop the wearer in its historic embrace.
Lolita Lempicka's Le Parfum bottles, with their whimsical fairy-tale inspired designs, nestled against the stark sophistication of Van Cleef & Arpels' First, which juxtaposed modernist clarity with floral complexity. These fragrances were not merely perfumes; they were gateways to bygone eras, each spritz a revival of their time.
Further exploration revealed a store dedicated solely to the lost art of ashtrays. Here, glass, ceramic, and metal were sculpted into receptacles for ash—each piece a silent witness to countless conversations and smoke-filled contemplations. The collection ranged from simple mid-century modern designs to ornate Art Nouveau pieces, each carrying the residue of a thousand stories.
Nearby, a shop of vintage cameras offered a different kind of lens on history, each device having captured moments that shaped personal and collective memories. From bulky leather-bound models to sleek 20th-century designs, these cameras were the eyes through which we might view the past.
The area dedicated to furniture and lighting was a chronological disruption—Louis XV armchairs sat regally beside starkly minimalist Serge Mouille fixtures. Here, the old flirted with the new, creating a visual and temporal dissonance that was both jarring and harmonious.
As the hours slipped by, I found myself amid a dizzying array of silver flatware, postcards, church relics, and books—each item a fragment of a larger historical puzzle. A corner dedicated to antique Louis Vuitton luggage displayed travel's luxurious past, while piles of old French music records played silent melodies of nostalgia.
My day at the Marché aux Puces was a deep dive into the physical archives of culture and history, a continuous unfolding of stories encapsulated in objects. Each item, from the smallest button to the grandest piece of furniture, offered a narrative, a whisper of its origins and journeys.
Exhausted yet exhilarated, I left the market with images and impressions crowding my mind, ready to be distilled into the collages that awaited their creation back at my apartment. Today's expedition was not just a shopping trip; it was an odyssey into the heart of Paris's storied past, captured through the lens of its enduring artifacts.
Echoes of Ink and Bread: Day 10
Morning spilled over with the hum of retouching, each click a chisel sculpting the digital stone of the past week's captures. A parade of faces and fragments scrolled across my screen, whispers of shutter snaps echoing in the pixels. I shaped the contours of memory, distilling moments into icons for future collages.
Morning spilled over with the hum of retouching, each click a chisel sculpting the digital stone of the past week's captures. A parade of faces and fragments scrolled across my screen, whispers of shutter snaps echoing in the pixels. I shaped the contours of memory, distilling moments into icons for future collages.
Lunch was a choreography of flavors—frittes sizzled, mushrooms sighed in butter, and camembert surrendered to the heat, a mélange that reset my senses. I chewed through the crisp, the soft, the earthy, and the rich, each bite a full stop in the sentence of my morning marathon.
Post-meal, the city beckoned for a walk—a palate cleanser for the mind. I drifted through covered passageways, those corridors of yesteryear where time pools in the corners like spilled ink. Each shop was a letter in an alphabet I longed to decipher: print shops with their inky fingers, stamp shops pressing history into paper, bookstores cradling the dusty spines of forgotten words.
Details layered upon details, a visual recursion. My eyes, hungry for the unscripted, devoured the scenery—each passageway a narrative arc, each archway a portal to chapters unwritten.
Ascending the hill, Le Pain Retrouvé beckoned with its yeasty embrace. Inside, the air was thick with the aroma of baked heritage. Panettone dangled like chandeliers, focaccias like tiled mosaics, croissants twisted like golden question marks. I left with a quiche, its warmth promising comfort.
Evening fell like a curtain. Graphic design awaited, the screen a canvas for collages yet unborn. Fragrance bottle sketches spread across the table, their lines and curves tentative sketches of future vessels. My apartment—a studio of scents and sights, where art is born not from oil or acrylic, but from pixels and dreams.
Tonight, part of this tale will be handwritten, a script of loops and lines that dance between the digital and the tangible. The pen, an extension of thought, spills across the page—a visual whisper of the day’s echoes.
Circles, Collages, and the Golden Arches: Day 7
A week has passed—an orbit around a sun made of espresso, baguettes, and the hum of a camera shutter. I sip my coffee as the day begins, a loop I don’t dare break. The laptop glows with edits, pixels becoming faces, colors becoming memory. Eleven o’clock sneaks up like a shadow on the wall.
A week has passed—an orbit around a sun made of espresso, baguettes, and the hum of a camera shutter. I sip my coffee as the day begins, a loop I don’t dare break. The laptop glows with edits, pixels becoming faces, colors becoming memory. Eleven o’clock sneaks up like a shadow on the wall.
Go arrives. From Tokyo to Paris, we exchange stories about the labyrinth of creativity. My mind, still tethered to retouching, takes the shoot in a natural direction—close-ups, faces fragmented into collages in my head. Go’s expressions tell stories I don’t yet know how to write. When we finish, the golden arches call us. McDonald’s Paris: a paradox of the familiar and the foreign. Fries that taste like nostalgia, burgers wrapped in intrigue. The birthplace reimagined.
Back to my apartment, Aapo arrives. We dive into the shoot, the conversation orbiting art and movement. I show him the collages that pulse like living things, fragments of color and texture stitched together by imagination. His excitement mirrors mine; the future of these images glimmers in our shared anticipation.
Afterward, the city whispers, and I wander. The Moulin Rouge windmill spins lazily, a relic of Parisian spectacle. Down the hill, my feet trace streets that no longer feel foreign. My internal compass aligns, the map of Paris slowly etching itself into my memory.
Today’s fixation? A laundromat. Circles of dryer doors reflect the endless loops of this city, this week, my thoughts. The machines hum their mechanical song, a rhythm that matches my steps. Circles inside circles, a motif that won’t let me go.
Back at my apartment, dinner is ramen. A simple bowl, a spiraling reflection of the day’s themes. Circling back through the week in my mind, I see the loops:
Weekly Recap:
Day 1: Bent wire becomes sculpture. Trash cans whisper poetry. Aldehydes and buttery air swirl into eggshell blue, and Paris exhales cigarette smoke like an artist puffing on inspiration.
Day 2: A dome devours me—a Saint Honoré cake alive with golden arches. Sacré-Cœur sits atop a hill paved with pastries. The carousel spins, a kaleidoscope of sugary visions.
Day 3: Grapefruit bursts through Hedonist’s amber fog. The Arc de Triomphe becomes a portal, old stones bending into floral textiles at Yves Saint Laurent’s world of petals and gowns. Somewhere, a voice sings me back to the Seine.
Day 4: Jazz notes carve shapes in the cold air. Sea urchins spill golden secrets into stainless steel trays. Scallop shells march in rows, repeating the mantra of old cabaret posters. My battery blinks its last, but I keep moving.
Day 5: Sicilian lemons tossed into the trash—what is old, what is new? Pop art unfolds in grocery aisles; marbled meats and neon fruits sing in harmony. Charging batteries, I recharge myself.
Day 6: Lane’s photos ripple into the past, colors spilling into black-and-white memories. A comic artist’s studio brims with ink and paper, old and new colliding. Glass reflects stone, chocolate bridges centuries, and the Eiffel Tower’s light twinkles like a memory already forgotten.
Today was circles: the dryers, the ramen bowl, the rhythm of a week replaying in my mind. A paradox of completion and continuation. The city folds back into itself, and I follow its loops, always beginning, always ending. Tomorrow will come, and the circle will turn again.
The Old, The New, The Twinkle Between: Day 6
This morning began with eggs and tomatoes, the color of memory. Coffee hot enough to wake me, edits sharp enough to carve into Lane’s images. I sat at my bistro table, sipping and clicking, time folding like the ripples in my espresso. My task? To make the new old, or maybe the old new.
This morning began with eggs and tomatoes, the color of memory. Coffee hot enough to wake me, edits sharp enough to carve into Lane’s images. I sat at my bistro table, sipping and clicking, time folding like the ripples in my espresso. My task? To make the new old, or maybe the old new.
Lane’s photos became an experiment: How do you colorize black and white without losing the ghost? Like those photos from Aunt Mary’s, faces painted with watercolors that floated on the edge of reality. Trial, error, repeat. Each pixel a whisper from the past, asking, Am I new yet?
The city called. I answered.
I walked by small storefronts, each a tiny theater staging its own play. A chocolatier sculpting gems of cocoa, futuristic shapes born from a craft older than the word “modern.” A comic artist hunched over his desk, black-and-white frames spilling onto the studio walls like a graphic novel alive. Old comics, new ink. The air felt heavy with contrast, like a song played in two keys at once.
Then, a ping—Joanne. An old friend from New York, now here, now Parisian. We met for coffee, wandered past bridges, Notre Dame standing sentinel as we reminisced. My eyes, still tourists in this city, took in every detail: cracked paint, cobblestones, shadows bending over wrought iron. Joanne left for work, leaving me to my vignettes—storefronts glowing like relics in their glass frames.
Antique shops whispered promises of new lives for old things. Doors locked for the night, their treasures out of reach, but I imagined each item: a mirror reflecting someone else’s face, a chair bearing someone else’s weight. Is it still old if it belongs to me now? Or does possession make it new?
A reflection stopped me: an old French building mirrored in a modern glass façade, its ornate curves warped by the building’s jagged geometry. Old and new danced, each reshaping the other, a duet in contradictions. My mind spiraled: Can old become new if it never knew it was old?
Jazz floated on the air, breaking my spiral. A trio of musicians played on the street, their notes tumbling into the cold night. People paused, baguette sandwiches in hand, faces lit with joy. Music made old by its familiarity, new by its impermanence. I stood still, listening, feeling my thoughts scatter like sheet music caught in the wind.
Crossing a bridge, I noticed time was slipping toward 6 p.m.—the hour when the Eiffel Tower bursts into glitter. I paused, called Jaimie in New York, and shared the moment as the city sparkled. The tower twinkled, Paris inhaled, and for ten minutes, everything felt suspended in light.
Back at my apartment, I poured wine and pondered the day: old colliding with new, the way chocolate shapes meet tradition, the way jazz fills the streets, the way a reflection can be older than the building it mirrors. Paris is a city where time folds in on itself, where every moment is a collage.
Old is new. New is old. Perhaps neither exist. Or perhaps both do, endlessly.
Irving Penn: Kinship
Another standout was his collaboration with Issey Miyake in the late 1980s—a dream partnership blending Miyake’s sharp pleats and bold shapes with Penn’s stark black-and-white photography. The graphic nature of these images is timeless, an artistic conversation between two visionaries. I’ve long wanted the Irving Penn x Issey Miyake book for my collection, and seeing these photographs in person only deepened my admiration for their artistry.
Walking into Pace Gallery to see Irving Penn: Kinship felt like revisiting an old friend. Curated by Hank Willis Thomas, the exhibition showcases Penn’s ability to unify diverse subjects—from couture fashion to cultural portraits—with a grace that transcends time.
Hank Willis Thomas’s curation is a masterstroke, pairing images like a couture photograph alongside a dandelion or a biker gang next to the New Guinea Mudmen. These juxtapositions reveal the fluidity and consistency of Penn’s vision, making the contrasts both striking and deeply connected.
Some highlights for me included works from Penn’s Cigarettes series, first shown in 1977. There’s a raw intimacy to these images, as if each discarded cigarette carries the stories of the people who smoked them. I found myself captivated, imagining who they might have been and what moments led to those final smoldering drags. There’s a print from this series at the Met that I’ve stared at countless times, but seeing another in this exhibition brought the same sense of wonder and storytelling.
Another standout was his collaboration with Issey Miyake in the late 1980s—a dream partnership blending Miyake’s sharp pleats and bold shapes with Penn’s stark black-and-white photography. The graphic nature of these images is timeless, an artistic conversation between two visionaries. I’ve long wanted the Irving Penn x Issey Miyake book for my collection, and seeing these photographs in person only deepened my admiration for their artistry.
If you’re in New York City, don’t miss Irving Penn: Kinship. It’s an unforgettable showcase of one of photography’s greats, curated to perfection. The exhibition runs until February 22, 2025, at Pace Gallery.
Reflections in B&W
Anthony Amadeo's Best Portraits of 2024
Anthony Amadeo's Best Portraits of 2024
What a year it has been. Reflecting on the past 12 months, it feels like I’ve lived in a whirlwind of portraits. This year, I poured myself into refining the style of imagery I create. Each session felt like stepping into a new conversation, allowing the art to unfold naturally. My process has always leaned heavily on spontaneity—letting the moments emerge, rather than meticulously constructing them. Inspired by the rules of Dadaism, I approached my work with the belief that art can create itself when you’re open to the moment. The result? Images that capture the essence of human interaction in their most raw, unfiltered forms.
This year’s journey wasn’t without its challenges. While I embraced spontaneity, I also sought balance. How could I bring a sense of order to the chaos? How could I create stories in my images that feel genuine and honest while placing my subjects in abstract or surreal situations? It’s a juxtaposition I’ve chased: raw emotion within striking, offbeat visuals—a tension between connection and intrigue. Much of my work remained in my signature black-and-white style, a choice that has become synonymous with my creative voice.
People often ask me, “Why is all your work black and white?” My answer? It’s not just a choice; it’s a feeling. I learned black and white from Nick Dekker, a master darkroom printer who once assisted Ansel Adams. Nick was my teacher at Brooks Institute and my favorite mentor. I vividly recall him telling me, “I’m going to keep failing you, but it’s only so you can learn. I know you have the talent, and I don’t want you to cruise through this.” That lesson stuck. Nick’s encouragement to push beyond the surface taught me to truly see the image within an image.
For me, black and white distills a photograph to its essence. When I convert a color image to monochrome, it’s as if the unnecessary information falls away, leaving bold contrasts, shapes, and graphic elements. It’s where the photograph becomes an image—a piece of art.
As I look back on this year, I’ve selected 15 favorite images that represent the essence of 2024. Each one tells its own story.
Each portrait in this collection carries a piece of this journey—of chasing balance, finding clarity in spontaneity, and honing a style that feels both intimate and otherworldly. I hope these images resonate with you as they have with me. Here’s to another year of discovery, creation, and connection.
Form and Flow with Brian Bothwell
An exploration of body, shape, and the beauty of trust.
An exploration of body, shape, and the beauty of trust.
Model Brian Bothwell stepped in front of the camera of Anthony Amadeo for the first time today and absolutely delivered. With oversized denim and a body-hugging stocking, this shoot was all about movement, curves, and trust.
Check out more from this shoot soon at IG: @anthonyxamadeo.
LoveMKM: Crystals, Canvases, and Creative Chaos
My work is highly guided by these experiences I have with NYC and cities across the world, from Tokyo to Cairo, it’s like a color, a sound, or the energy in general I pick up can turn into a Painting. For example, we recently took a trip to Fifth Avenue, to view the iconic windows at Bergdorf Goodman’s and interestly enough some of the main color influences in the windows were colors I have used in recent work. I mean, it’s a coincidence, one might say, but what it signifies to me is that I am on a creative flow that is somehow connected to a signal that’s being broadcast to me, intuitively, and I find satisfaction in that. It means that I truly am absorbing my experiences on a subconscious level and turning them into Art.
Anthony Amadeo dives into the vibrant world of street art, inspiration, and shiny things with Mary Kathryn Medlock.
AA: MK! We’ve known each other for over a decade now—wild, right?
I’ve always loved our city walks and the way you see the world, constantly exploring and finding inspiration in the everyday. How do those moments influence your work? Are there any places or experiences recently that have sparked something new for you?
MKM: Wow...a decade! It’s amazing how much we have both evolved in our creative endeavours since we met 10 years ago, working that fashion retail hustle.... I love walking the city with you too, and being present in the simplicity everyday, because that “devil wears Prada” career just took so much away from my ability to be grateful for the moment. Not to say that any given day in NYC is “simple” but ya know, getting a coffee and walking 12,000 steps in the concrete jungle is so inspiring, and it’s just all right there waiting to make some magic (or annoyance..lol) for me. I feel like that’s a common thread we share together that’s unique.
My work is highly guided by these experiences I have with NYC and cities across the world, from Tokyo to Cairo, it’s like a color, a sound, or the energy in general I pick up can turn into a Painting. For example, we recently took a trip to Fifth Avenue, to view the iconic windows at Bergdorf Goodman’s and interestly enough some of the main color influences in the windows were colors I have used in recent work. I mean, it’s a coincidence, one might say, but what it signifies to me is that I am on a creative flow that is somehow connected to a signal that’s being broadcast to me, intuitively, and I find satisfaction in that. It means that I truly am absorbing my experiences on a subconscious level and turning them into Art.
AA: Take us into your world of LoveMKM.
It’s more than just street art and painting—it feels like an energy, almost a vibe of its own. How would you describe what LoveMKM is all about? What do you hope people feel when they experience your work?
MKM: Gosh, thanks so much! I really appreciate that! The entire process just really comes from my Heart, so it’s great to receive that feedback! When I started LOVEMKM she was me... but she was her own entity as well. She was living Art, I think you could say. She was the result of who I dreamed I could be, a creative being, colorful and alive. I was sort of saying goodbye to one version of me, and welcoming in a new version that I was trying to be and now I am her.
My street art paste ups are screen printed portraits of me. I found endless inspiration in expressing myself in front the of the camera (your camera, thank you very much 😊) as spirit of a feminine archetype that I felt as an expression of myself (the maiden, the saint, the seductress etc..) and using it for the “Love Yourself” street art campaign. I feel like I will alway use the photos we have taken in my Art, but lately I’ve been way more inspired painting and screenprinting florals.
My Art is a labor of love and transformation. An object of beauty, something that is unique and precious, one of a kind. It’s so colorful and expressive, especially in texture, and I hope in some way people can feel the energetic layers of emotions in the Art and relate it to their own journey.
AA: What keeps you inspired?
Where do you find inspiration when life feels dull? Are there any rituals, crystals, or even certain colors (maybe pink?) that help you recharge your creative energy?
MKM: Ugh, yes.... Inspiration is not always knocking at my door.. lol. When this cycle comes around, I embrace the knowing that I am NOT inspired and I don’t force it or even worse beat myself up about not creating a painting or print. I just kinda say “Okay, I don’t want to create anything! “ I really just dig into ignoring the muse and telling her not to come around.
I do have practice rituals to keep me in some sort of creative flow.. some sort of promise to the Muse.
I do regularly paint on scrap paper. Last winter, when I had my studio still, I took some discarded archival paper mis printed on one side, turned it over, painted hundreds of small floral works on paper. They became some of my favorite pieces and I’ve sold quite a few.
I do actually turn to the color Pink as a starting point when I just need to get something on paper or canvas, I just love it so much, and I have so many tubes of pink acrylics and pigments, it’s just natural I reach for it first when the work needs to flow. I heard someone say once that pink color is an activated high frequency, a kind of angelic color, so it makes sense that it can always spark something out of me.
AA: Feeling creative on the inside and turning it into something tangible—that’s magic.
What’s your process like when an idea strikes? How do you take that spark of inspiration and bring it into the physical world?
MKM: Well I just told you what happens when I ignore the Muse, but when I let her shine, when I listen to her urges, it just pours out of me so fast, sometimes I can make a large painting in mere days! It really helps to always have blank canvas and archival papers on hand, so it’s available for the calling, and that’s the first part of the process. Putting the blank canvas on the table with the media I intend to use, fabrics, crayons, old vintage frames, broken stained glass, screen printed Silk flowers, what have you, but I have already chosen the media before I start the actual creation. The idea can evolve too, the most important thing I can do is allow the flow of creation without judgement. A lot of experimenting and finding out... lol.
AA: Looking back, what’s your favorite piece you’ve ever made?
Is there one that feels the most personal or magical to you? What’s the story behind it?
MKM: I really LOVE Ocean Abstract 1, 2. A large diptych of encaustic Crayola, I created in 2018 after a trip to Puerto Rico with my mentor and a group of fellow spiritual seekers. We were on a magic beach, an island, and we did a channeled meditation that was very transformative for me. I had just started working with these types of modalities, meditation, mindfulness, channeling, energy work, etc..
As soon as I got home from PR I put one 36x36 canvas on the table at my studio, I pulled 100’s of blue Crayons, got my heat gun and I went to work. Ocean Abstract 1 was very chaotic and tumultuous, I used crumpled up gold leaf embedded in the wax, it looked like seaweed tossing in the waves. It was stormy and beautiful. I got a second 36x36 canvas and started No. 2, again more blue crayons, but this time my technique was smooth and very streamlined.. representing the calm that took over me, after a time of unalignment. I love those two paintings the most, they are now living in a collector’s home and I will always remember how special they are.
AA: Where would you like to be creatively in the future?
What’s the dream for MK Medlock and LoveMKM? Are there any mediums you haven’t explored yet that you’d love to dive into, or projects you’re manifesting?
MKM: Since I’m currently choosing not to get a new studio space, I’d really like to take some sewing classes, maybe learn how to quilt. I’m not super skilled with laying patterns and sewing, but I would love to be. It’s in my blood for sure, my Dad’s mother was a wonderful seamstress, and I grew up playing with fabric scraps in her sewing room while her machine hummed away.
Future projects I’d like to manifest... My long term goal with LOVEMKM is to do more creatively directed commercial projects. I would absolutely love to work with a Hotel Interiors or a Fashion Brand collaboration. I even have played around with the idea of purchasing a property I can theme out as a LOVEMKM house and AirBnb it. If you love Pink, Florals, and Pops of color everywhere you’d love to stay in my AirBnb..lol.
AA: Let’s get interactive—this is all about creative energy, after all!
If you could create a quick piece to represent your current energy, what would it look like? Draw or paint something simple that captures how you’re feeling today—think colors, shapes, vibes. Snap a pic and send it over so we can share it with everyone.
MKM: I’ve been playing with this design, one of the last things I screen printed before my studio closed. It was experimental and I didnt know how cool it was going to turn out! This week I’ve been rolling it out on my apartment floor just admiring it and deciding what to do with it. It’s so wild feminine, unstructured, just free from rules... and that vibe is really resonating with me. I’m going to paste it to a canvas and build on the idea of what it wants to be!
AA: Finally, where can people keep up with LoveMKM?
Any exciting projects or drops coming up that we should be watching for?
MKM: lovemkm.com is my Hub! From there you can connect to my IG (@lovemkm) and even sign up to my mailing list which is a great way to find out what shows I’m exhibiting and what I’m creating and selling. Soon I’m participating in my second round of live painting @futureisnowx live stream on IG, and most excitedly I’m gearing up for some travel which always brings inspiration and renewal!
Proper Mad, Isn’t It? My London Tales of Collage and Chaos
Sitting on my balcony every morning with my coffee and breakfast, I’d wait for the models to arrive, ready to capture them in the studio. Those moments—quiet, creative, and full of anticipation—defined my time in London. The collages that came out of this trip are deeply personal, yet they’re a testament to the universal magic of London. They combine faces, places, and moments into a chaotic yet cohesive whole that mirrors the city itself.
Each collage, its own story within the larger narrative of my London journey. Take your time. Get lost in them, just as I got lost in London.
London was always one of those places I dreamt of visiting—the culture, the history, the art scene, and yes, the brutalist architecture. January 2024 marked my first trip to the UK, and I spent nearly the entire month soaking up every bit of London that I could. What came out of that trip? 89 collages—each one a snapshot of my time there, blending the faces of the models I photographed with iconic architecture, quirky souvenirs, and the random brilliance of London itself. These collages, inspired by dadaism and surrealism, are my love letter to the city, and most of them haven’t even been shared yet. Let’s dive in.
The Studio with a View
I found an incredible penthouse studio just outside the Barbican. Perched atop an old walk-up building, it had a full glass wall that opened like an accordion to a balcony overlooking the stark, geometric brutalism of the Barbican estate. It was everything I wanted: inspiring, moody, and perfectly London. On the main floor of the building was an old-school diner serving a proper full English brekkie. Each morning, I started my day with a coffee, a crumpet with fried egg and beans, and that unbeatable view.
Walking (and Walking) Through London
Even though I was staying for a long time, I couldn’t resist spending my first day walking 22 miles around the city. From cobblestone streets to massive landmarks, I wanted to see it all. The V&A blew me away with its eclectic collection, while The Tanks at the Tate Modern felt like stepping into a space tailor-made for my aesthetic. I lingered at the Tate Britain, gobsmacked by Francis Bacon’s “Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion” for what felt like yonks. And of course, the National Portrait Gallery was a treasure trove of Tudor portraits.
Pub Culture and Fish & Chips
London’s pub culture is unmatched. One of the coolest pubs I visited was a 600-year-old gem called The Red Lion. A model I photographed mentioned she worked there, and I couldn’t believe my luck since I had packed my “Red Lion” hoodie from Los Angeles. It felt like fate. I also met up with Jasper, a mate who recently moved to London, and we did the quintessential fish-and-chips experience—a proper nosh if I’ve ever had one!
Fragrance Finds
Exploring London meant discovering new fragrances. Jovoy introduced me to Khanjar by Omanluxury, an animalic, oud-heavy masterpiece that’s now a favourite. At Harrods’ Salon de Parfums, I indulged in luxury scent heaven. The Henry Jacques boutique, especially their Harrods-exclusive “Royal Dream,” felt like stepping into olfactory royalty—iris and amber blending into something regal yet warm. Absolute bang-on, if you ask me.
Collaging in London
The models I photographed in my studio had no idea what their portraits would become. I started the editing process right there in London, finding a small local printing shop to bring my images to life. The collages began with tearing, cutting, and rearranging, channeling the random, chaotic energy of dadaism. Some were surreal, others focused on juxtaposing the human form with the stark lines of London’s architecture. A few even included souvenir postcards I picked up along the way.
Once back in the States, the real fun began. Ripping and manipulating the images further, I aimed to create works that truly embodied the essence of London—its vibrancy, grit, and charm. Video collages came next, inspired by the absurd brilliance of Monty Python, adding a playful layer to the series. You can see these on my Instagram (@Anthonyxamadeo).
Vintage Finds and Local Gems
Spitalfields and Brick Lane were vintage shopping paradises. I picked up a vintage shearling bomber from a retired vet who was selling his collection of military uniforms. We had a good chinwag, and the experience felt as priceless as the jacket itself. Borough Market became my go-to for food, especially the cheeses. I’ll never forget the orange blue cheese—absolutely lush.
The Full Circle
Sitting on my balcony every morning with my coffee and breakfast, I’d wait for the models to arrive, ready to capture them in the studio. Those moments—quiet, creative, and full of anticipation—defined my time in London. The collages that came out of this trip are deeply personal, yet they’re a testament to the universal magic of London. They combine faces, places, and moments into a chaotic yet cohesive whole that mirrors the city itself.
Each collage, its own story within the larger narrative of my London journey. Take your time. Get lost in them, just as I got lost in London.
P.S. I can’t wait to share what I’m stirring up for Paris 2025. Stay tuned!
A Walk Through Holiday Magic: The Bergdorf Goodman 2024 Windows
Few things capture the spirit of New York City during the holidays quite like the Bergdorf Goodman Fifth Avenue windows. This year’s theme, “Toast of the Town,” is a sparkling homage to the iconic city itself, celebrating its landmarks, energy, and the glamour that makes NYC the capital of dreams.
Few things capture the spirit of New York City during the holidays quite like the Bergdorf Goodman Fifth Avenue windows. This year’s theme, “Toast of the Town,” is a sparkling homage to the iconic city itself, celebrating its landmarks, energy, and the glamour that makes NYC the capital of dreams.
Unveiled to the public on November 21, the windows pay tribute to Fifth Avenue’s enduring legacy, coinciding with the 200th anniversary of this legendary thoroughfare. Each of the nine windows on display is a masterpiece in itself, crafted in-house by Bergdorf’s visionary design team over the past year.
New York City Reimagined in Fashion
From a giant, glittering yellow taxicab to jeweled pigeons perched throughout the displays, every window is a love letter to the city’s most recognizable icons. One window is bathed in vibrant red, honoring the lions of the New York Public Library and the literary history they symbolize. Another, lush with green, is an ode to the parks and leafy havens scattered throughout the city.
One of my favorite windows featured a look from Marc Jacobs’ Spring 2024 collection. The life-size doll concept took me back to Martin Margiela’s Fall/Winter 1994 collection, where he famously scaled doll clothes to fit adult proportions. It’s a brilliant nod to how fashion continually plays with proportions and the surreal.
The men’s windows also held treasures, like a look from Alexander McQueen’s Resort 2025 collection. Seán McGirr’s designs for the house continue to impress, and seeing this piece displayed so thoughtfully felt like a sneak peek into the bright future of his creative direction at McQueen.
Peering Into Each Detail
Bergdorf’s windows are always a feast for the senses. This year, I found myself lingering at the layers of design, from the subtle textures on mannequins’ garments to the surreal elements, like oversized clocks and sequined animals, that bring the displays to life. The meticulous attention to detail invites you to step closer, peer longer, and uncover something new each time.
The themes this year, from the yellow taxis to whimsical park scenes, are tied together with Bergdorf Goodman’s signature aesthetic—a balance of high fashion and theatrical storytelling. Designers like Valentino, Michael Kors, Thom Browne, and Prabal Gurung lent their creations to these windows, making them a true celebration of artistry and craft.
Why the Windows Inspire
For me, seeing these windows is an annual ritual of inspiration. They remind me how art, fashion, and storytelling can merge to create something unforgettable. Each display feels like a small world—one that captures the essence of New York City while also transcending it.
If you’re in the city this holiday season, don’t just walk by—take a moment to lose yourself in the details. From the jeweled pigeons to the lavender-hued homage to Bergdorf itself, these windows aren’t just about fashion; they’re about imagination and the magic of possibilities.
What’s your favorite Bergdorf holiday memory? Let me know below—I’d love to hear what inspires you during the season of sparkle.
“Toast of the Town” runs through the holiday season. Don’t miss this iconic display of New York glamour!
The Art of Scent: A Multisensory Journey
Art isn’t just something you see—it’s something you can feel, smell, and immerse yourself in. That’s the premise behind this new triptych project, an installation inspired by the three scents of my handcrafted incense: No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3.
Art isn’t just something you see—it’s something you can feel, smell, and immerse yourself in. That’s the premise behind this new triptych project, an installation inspired by the three scents of my handcrafted incense: No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3.
This isn’t your traditional painting. Each piece in the triptych is a synesthetic exploration of scent, where color, texture, and form attempt to visually translate what it feels like to experience the fragrance. The installation brings together painting, sculpture, and scent into one cohesive, multi-medium expression.
The Concept
It all started with a page in my notebook—a rough sketch of three hand-blown glass vessels, each designed to hold one scent. These vessels will sit in front of large-scale panels, each a synesthetic representation of the scent it holds. The idea was to merge the physicality of scent with the visual language of color and texture, allowing the viewer to experience the fragrance in an entirely new way.
“Art, like scent, should linger—long after the moment is gone.”
The Process
The first panel, inspired by No. 1 (Rose and Clove), is a 14-inch by 50-inch painting that explores a gradient from super matte to high gloss. This gradation is my visual representation of how I smell No. 1—a transition from the deep, grounding notes of clove to the luminous, almost ethereal quality of rose.
For this piece, I experimented with a new technique: stretching the canvas in a way that creates folds or “pleats,” giving the surface a dynamic, almost sliding appearance. The creases feel alive, as though the painting is shifting, echoing the way scent moves and evolves as you experience it. This technique has opened up a new realm of experimentation in my work, and I’m thrilled to see where it takes me in future projects.
A Project in Progress
This installation is still in its early stages, but sharing its progress with you is part of the journey. The completion date? TBD. But this is where the excitement lies—in the process, the experimentation, and the possibilities of what this project will become.
Each panel will be unique, reflecting the distinct personality of its corresponding scent. The hand-blown glass vessels will act as sculptural extensions of the painting, adding yet another layer of interaction and meaning.
Where Art and Scent Meet
This project is as much about breaking boundaries as it is about storytelling. It’s an exploration of how scent—a fleeting, often invisible experience—can be grounded in visual and tactile form.
I can’t wait to share more of this journey with you as it evolves. What do you imagine when you think of the scent of rose and clove, or geranium and slate, or tomato leaf and frankincense? Soon, you won’t just imagine—you’ll see it.
Stay tuned for updates, progress shots, and the reveal of the final installation.
"Earthling" by Anthony Amadeo
“Earthling” is a reflection of how abstract forms can still carry the weight of a portrait—an otherworldly tribute to the human spirit.
What does a portrait look like when it’s not a portrait at all? When it’s stripped of the literal and rebuilt as an abstraction? "Earthling" is my answer to that question—a journey into a realm where figures dissolve into color, shape, and imagination.
62 in. x 50 in. | Acrylic, Pencil, Pastels, and Spray Paint on Canvas | 2022
This painting started as a challenge: what if my portraits were the most obscure, abstract versions of themselves? I began with a single fluid, transparent jewel-tone green—a color that felt like the atmosphere of another planet. Powdered, softened, and spread, it became the sky. Then came the figure: Adrian Jimenez, sketched lightly in pencil from a reference in my archives. But Adrian, as we know him, disappeared quickly, morphing into lines, curves, and blocks of color.
The process unfolded layer by layer:
With pastels, I created rough abstractions that danced across the canvas, as if trying to find their place in the world I was building.
I let the pastel and pencil lines sit and stared at them—really stared. From their movement, new shapes emerged. I followed them with bold paint, tracing their echoes with blocks and tubes.
That large neon green arc? It began as a leg. The sharp pink corner? That was an elbow.
Each piece of Adrian became something else entirely. A vision of what I think an earthling would look like on my planet.
What I love most about "Earthling" is its duality. At its core, it’s personal—a creative exploration that came to life over four months of sitting, staring, and imagining. But for the viewer, it’s a portal. It invites you to lose yourself in its optical illusions, to find your earthling within it, and to imagine the world they might call home.
Where does this take you?
Look closely. What shapes do you see? What world would your earthling inhabit?
“Earthling” is a reflection of how abstract forms can still carry the weight of a portrait—an otherworldly tribute to the human spirit.
Price Upon Request
Yellow by Anthony Amadeo
What is Yellow? Not as a color swatch on a paint tube but as a feeling, a memory, a texture. The challenge wasn’t just to use yellow, but to see it—feel it—and translate that sensation onto the canvas.
What would happen if you tell 10 artists to paint “yellow”?
What is yellow?
Not as a color swatch on a paint tube but as a feeling, a memory, a texture. The challenge wasn’t just to use yellow, but to see it—feel it—and translate that sensation onto the canvas.
54 in. x 43 in. | Acrylic and Spray Paint on Canvas | Astoria, Queens, 2022
Yellow, for me, is light. It’s warmth rolling across skin. It’s the way the sky stretches out as the sun drops behind a far-off horizon, leaving streaks of gold on water-stained clouds. I didn’t want to tame it. So I splashed yellow across the canvas—uncontrolled and unpolished, like sun rays burning through haze.
To shift the yellows, I darkened it with an earth tone and softened it with neutrals, watching the pigment move and sink. Every brushstroke landed like a soft echo of light.
And then came the fuchsia stripes—clean, rigid, architectural. A city interrupting nature. I thought of buildings catching the last light of day, their sharp edges cutting through the otherwise soft blur of a sunset.
This painting feels like standing on the edge of the skyline, breathing in the city and feeling the sun burn away the chill.
Yellow isn’t quiet—it’s alive. It reflects. It moves.
Price Upon Request