Meet Angelo Accardi, a painter whose canvases are capable of tracing tenaciously dreamlike profiles with their apparent incongruity.

Accardi succeeds in creating a world where time and space, foreground and background, and the subject and his environment merge together. Within this world that he creates, but beyond the spirit of time, Accardi appears to access the same psyche as his spectators, transmitting a message, a feeling or an idea through skillful expressive details.  He is spurred on by means of a style that could prove common thanks to its link to scratches, to drips and in some cases, to “dirty painting.” The interpretative key of Accardi’s art, however, is much more.

His works are worlds in which parts of his life exist and enter into a dialogue with contemporary symbols such as characters of the cinema and cartoon figures, as well as looming “misplaced” presences such as ostriches and rhinos in the city, in glimpses of well-known urban realities and museums.

Angelo Accardi often unites masterpieces from the past with phenomena of our time. He creates constant dissonant presences juxtaposed with a chaotically ordered metropolitan. His works are disturbing but compelling because they are raw and ironic. Different artistic experiences, clear stories, never distorted by the need for script or market. They are streams of pictorial consciousness in which many symbols, seemingly distant from each other, re-exist, beyond the aesthetic aspect, certainly cared for, however not at the center of the decisive choice in the paintings.

Currently, Accardi works exclusively for the Eden Gallery. His works are exhibited in the Eden Fine Art Gallery on New Bond Street, with the exhibition Misplaced, summarizing significant incidents, the path of the artist of Sapri.

Angelo Accardi is therefore, art that highlights, deepens and also feeds on the alienation and stress of everyday life. In his works, the emblems and the drifts of every day are renewed in surreal details because of evocative and exhausting digressions, guarding, at times, an indeterminate feeling of melancholy, almost like a rustle at the gates of the soul, echoing to something that is missing or that we would like to be different.

Today, life no longer seems to belong to itself. Accardi remembers this and does so wisely as to free it. All that remains is to abandon yourself to his art, inside the world but outside any conventional scene.


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