Photography

Introducing George Maragkos

the first face of amadeo amadeo


There’s a presence in the room before the shutter clicks.
George Maragkos—striking, sharp, and unmistakably cinematic—moves through frame with the ease of someone who’s been here before, even if this is just the beginning.

In his debut session with amadeo amadeo, George arrived dressed in all black: pleated trousers, a leather jacket, a tailored blazer—clothing that clung to the light and carved out drama in the shadows. His Greek features carried the weight of myth, but his gestures were thoroughly modern: abstract, fluid, intentional.

We worked through reflections, distortions, and movement. At every turn, George didn’t just pose—he acted, reacted, told. A face not just for fashion, but for storytelling.

These first portraits mark the beginning of a portfolio designed to not only impress, but to mesmerize. He is the prototype of what we’re cultivating here: presence, poise, and personality.

Welcome George Maragkos, the first of many to come.

 

Lemons, Threads, and the Art of Encounter: Day 13

Lemons, Threads, and the Art of Encounter: Day 13

Dawn cracks, a lemon slice of sun through the Parisian haze. Emails float like driftwood in the digital sea, preparing me for the day’s creative tide. Mariia arrives at eleven, her presence a fresh breeze. We paint with light and shadows, lemons punctuating the canvas of our shoot, their citrus brightness slicing through the monotone.

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Circles, Sillage, and the Luxury of Wandering: Day 3

Circles, Sillage, and the Luxury of Wandering: Day 3

The day began not with urgency but with indulgence. The kind of indulgence that lets you linger over a fried egg and cheese on baguette, contemplating whether breakfast might be the most poetic meal of the day. It was quiet luxury—warm yolk, crusty bread, and the promise of Paris unfolding itself, one unpredictable moment at a time. Khanjar was my companion, oud curling around me like a secret whispered into silk. Out the door and into the streets, where everything was waiting.

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