11 July 11-17, 2024 miaminewtimes.com | browardpalmbeach.com New Times | Contents | Letters | news | night+Day | Culture | Cafe | MusiC | miaminewtimes.com MIAMI NEW TIMES | CONTENTS | LETTERS | RIPTIDE | METRO | NIGHT+DAY | STAGE | ART | FILM | CAFE | MUSIC | Look Again Arnaud Pagès captures quotidian America in all its glory. CAROLINA DEL BUSTO I nside a warehouse space in Little Haiti, a soft blue light illuminates a small metal door. It’s an unusually windy summer evening. The dried brown leaves on the floor rustle and dance in the breeze. Arnaud Pagès emerges from be- hind the tin door. He’s dressed in all black. His black Kiss shirt reads “Hotter as Hell,” an appropriate phrase for the summer heat. He brings an unlit cigarette to his lips, lights the tip, and leans against his parked car. The Paris-born photographer spends many nights in his studio, conveniently lo- cated next door to Flowerbox Projects, the gallery where he often exhibits his work. Ear- lier this spring, the artist unveiled a collection of work under the title “General Admission” at the artist-run space. The photographs were all taken at events that Pagès attended with a general admission ticket. The images were collected over the last three years, with the photographer immers- ing himself in various events and under- ground scenes. “It was like taking street photography to the countryside,” he says. “I took portraits of people I met along the way and really showed them in their element, fea- turing them for something that might seem mundane but to me is really fucking cool.” Inside his studio, a few unsold prints from “General Admission” lay neatly stacked in one corner. Atop his working desk, the pho- tographer has a stack of freshly sold work that is packaged and awaiting postage. Off to the side on that same desk, there’s a hand- written note-to-self that simply reads, “Make a damn zine, bitch.” Pagès has always been fascinated by the traditional American lifestyle. He likes to take a closer look at what most people would over- look. Through his camera lens, he finds beauty in the darkest, often grimiest, places. Be it images of monster trucks, campers tip- toeing along a railroad track, or a mechanic in his shop — ordinary moments for most, yet fascinating to Pagès. “Even though I’ve been in this country for so long, I’m still very foreign to this country. I’m still very French,” he says. “I find myself still amazed with the things that amazed me when I was a kid living in Paris, learning about the Western world. What I’m realizing is that I think I’m still very much intrigued by this country.” Throughout the years, locations may change, but the artist is still drawn to cap- turing his surround- ings and moments when he’s among his creative friends. “I feel like my style is constantly evolving,” he says, bringing his left hand up to his chin and stroking his neatly trimmed beard. “Whereas street pho- tography was very natural for me at first, I’ve evolved to more of a documentary style pho- tography and trying to hone in on very spe- cific subject matters.” Although his preferred medium is photog- raphy, Pagès is a skilled artist across various mediums, including painting. In fact, his first foray into the art world was through street art. He remembers the first time he saw a train car covered in tags while living in France. “I thought, Damn, that shit is fucking amazing, and so I started to create my own characters.” When he was 10, Pagès would sneak onto empty trains and draw his cartoon doodles on the seats. Now, at 35, he leans back into his chair, laughing as he recounts getting caught by the police. “I thought I was so cool, and then one day, I got caught — I was 10,” he says with a grin. “The cops just laughed at me and made me wash off the seats, but that didn’t stop me.” A few years after that encounter, Pagès and his family moved to London, where he jumped headfirst into the graffiti scene. Throughout his years living in Atlanta and later Montreal, the artist continued to be a part of the street art world. “The kind of street culture that comes with graffiti is what has really inspired my work,” he says. Graffiti was still seen as an un- derground movement in the early aughts and was completely alluring to the young artist. “I thought there was something really cool about documenting the lifestyle because I couldn’t find it anywhere else,” Pagès adds. In addition to his love of comic books and graffiti, the French man attributes his love of art to his late grandmother. As a kid, he would spend his summers at his grandmother’s house, where he’d read comic books and doodle. “My grandmother really pushed me and encouraged me to keep drawing.” He crosses his legs and rests his left arm on his knee. “It’s funny because now that I look back at it, she was just being a good grandmother in encour- aging me. I was probably just average.” Yet that nudge of encouragement was all Pagès needed. Hanging behind the artist, in an almost overlooked corner of his studio, is a painting of a pale Victorian woman resting her head on a pillow. She’s gazing somewhere out of frame and wears a light blue choker. Pagès adjusts in his seat and turns to look at the framed painting. He smiles. “I would sleep under that same fucking painting as a kid at my grandma’s house. It would creep me out.” And now it hangs in his studio, overlook- ing, and possibly inspiring, his work. [email protected] ▼ Culture French-born photographer Arnaud Pagès finds intrigue in the ordinary. Photo by Naomi Lioy “WHAT I’M REALIZING IS THAT I THINK I’M STILL VERY MUCH INTRIGUED BY THIS COUNTRY.” 1/3H
