Salvatore Arnone

Untitled, Balance Series. Male Nude Torso. Digital Collage Color Photograph

2022

The frequencies I am made of, Set Individual Image size: 68.8 in. H x 43.3 in. W Overall Image size: 68.8 in. H x 216.5 Gicleé print on cotton rag 68.8" H x 43.3" W Ed 4/5 + 1AP 201...

Untitled B and A Diptych, 2022 by Salvatore Arnone From the series Balance Photography and acrylic mounted on aluminum Overall size: 50 in. H x 70 in. W Individual size: 50 in. H x 3...

Race, From The Manifesto-Sao Paulo Series Inkjet print on cotton on paper Large: 60 in. H x 40 in. W Edition of 5 + 2AP Print Other sizes are available. All Prices are quoted as ...

All the others in me (Milan) Gicleé print on cotton rag 43.3" x 27.5" Ed 4/5 +1AP 2012. ALL THE OTHERS IN ME Marrakech Biennale MOAD Miami MAMBO Bogota. The body, in opposition to t...

All the others in me. (Milan) Gicleé print on cotton rag 43.3" x 27.5" Ed 4/5 +1AP 2012 ALL THE OTHERS IN ME Marrakech Biennale MOAD Miami MAMBO Bogota. The body, in opposition to t...

The frequencies I am made of #5 Gicleé print on cotton rag 68.8" H x 43.3" W Ed 4/5 + 1AP 2017. THE FREQUENCIES THAT MAKE ME The winning project of the creation grant of the Ministry...

'Harvest Dance' Limited edition archival photograph. Unframed, hand signed and numbered _________________ Late August, captured in the glow of the evening sun, my daughters join han...

Documentary Photograph. Contemporary Inkjet on cotton. Limited edition of 5. Signed front and verso. Framed in lacquered black frame with spacer) The first person to photograph the Huichol in their remote communities in the inaccessible canyons of the Western Sierra Madre was probably the Norwegian anthropologist, Carl Lumholtz. He ventured into their territory in 1895, shortly before the arrival of the French naturalist and ethnographer Léon Diguet, who was also a photographer. Like so many who were engaged with documenting Indigenous peoples across the Americas in those brutal years of expansion and settlement, Lumholtz believed that the disappearance of his subjects was inevitable: “the weaker must succumb to the stronger, and the Indians will ultimately all become Mexicans.” The photographs of the Huichol by Pablo Ortiz Monasterio—taken on some twenty trips over the past three decades—prove that Lumholtz was fortunately, terribly wrong. They reveal abundant evidence of cultural survival (what the Huichol call “la costumbre”), made possible by their extraordinary resistance to the religious, nationalist, and economic forces that have long assaulted—and that continue to assault—Indigenous communities everywhere. Though Ortiz Monasterio is also an outsider, he does not operate—like Lumholtz or Diguet—as an old-fashioned preservationist, nor is he confident in the superiority of Western culture, nor is his work only destined for museum vitrines...

Fernando Bayona, Once Upon a Time: "Piel de Asno". Fine Art Inkjet Print Sizes: S: 25.6 x 20.8 in. / Ed. 3 M: 41.7 x 33 in. / Ed. 3 L: 53.1 x 41.7 in. / Ed. 2 + 1A.P "The narrat...

Documentary Photograph. Contemporary Inkjet on cotton. Limited edition of 5. Signed front and verso. Framed in lacquered black frame with spacer) The first person to photograph the Huichol in their remote communities in the inaccessible canyons of the Western Sierra Madre was probably the Norwegian anthropologist, Carl Lumholtz. He ventured into their territory in 1895, shortly before the arrival of the French naturalist and ethnographer Léon Diguet, who was also a photographer. Like so many who were engaged with documenting Indigenous peoples across the Americas in those brutal years of expansion and settlement, Lumholtz believed that the disappearance of his subjects was inevitable: “the weaker must succumb to the stronger, and the Indians will ultimately all become Mexicans.” The photographs of the Huichol by Pablo Ortiz Monasterio—taken on some twenty trips over the past three decades—prove that Lumholtz was fortunately, terribly wrong. They reveal abundant evidence of cultural survival (what the Huichol call “la costumbre”), made possible by their extraordinary resistance to the religious, nationalist, and economic forces that have long assaulted—and that continue to assault—Indigenous communities everywhere. Though Ortiz Monasterio is also an outsider, he does not operate—like Lumholtz or Diguet—as an old-fashioned preservationist, nor is he confident in the superiority of Western culture, nor is his work only destined for museum vitrines...

Documentary Photograph. Contemporary Inkjet on cotton. Limited edition of 5. Signed front and verso. Framed in lacquered black frame with spacer) The first person to photograph the Huichol in their remote communities in the inaccessible canyons of the Western Sierra Madre was probably the Norwegian anthropologist, Carl Lumholtz. He ventured into their territory in 1895, shortly before the arrival of the French naturalist and ethnographer Léon Diguet, who was also a photographer. Like so many who were engaged with documenting Indigenous peoples across the Americas in those brutal years of expansion and settlement, Lumholtz believed that the disappearance of his subjects was inevitable: “the weaker must succumb to the stronger, and the Indians will ultimately all become Mexicans.” The photographs of the Huichol by Pablo Ortiz Monasterio—taken on some twenty trips over the past three decades—prove that Lumholtz was fortunately, terribly wrong. They reveal abundant evidence of cultural survival (what the Huichol call “la costumbre”), made possible by their extraordinary resistance to the religious, nationalist, and economic forces that have long assaulted—and that continue to assault—Indigenous communities everywhere. Though Ortiz Monasterio is also an outsider, he does not operate—like Lumholtz or Diguet—as an old-fashioned preservationist, nor is he confident in the superiority of Western culture, nor is his work only destined for museum vitrines...

The first person to photograph the Huichol in their remote communities in the inaccessible canyons of the Western Sierra Madre was probably the Norwegian anthropologist, Carl Lumholtz. He ventured into their territory in 1895, shortly before the arrival of the French naturalist and ethnographer Léon Diguet, who was also a photographer. Like so many who were engaged with documenting Indigenous peoples across the Americas in those brutal years of expansion and settlement, Lumholtz believed that the disappearance of his subjects was inevitable: “the weaker must succumb to the stronger, and the Indians will ultimately all become Mexicans.” The photographs of the Huichol by Pablo Ortiz Monasterio—taken on some twenty trips over the past three decades—prove that Lumholtz was fortunately, terribly wrong. They reveal abundant evidence of cultural survival (what the Huichol call “la costumbre”), made possible by their extraordinary resistance to the religious, nationalist, and economic forces that have long assaulted—and that continue to assault—Indigenous communities everywhere. Though Ortiz Monasterio is also an outsider, he does not operate—like Lumholtz or Diguet—as an old-fashioned preservationist, nor is he confident in the superiority of Western culture, nor is his work only destined for museum vitrines...