Allan Amato's cosmic camera sees through mortal skin to reveal the lambent ideal self beneath. Where Amato aims his lens, gods and superheroes, angels and demons are conjured; vinyl mythologies are summoned; mere flesh becomes dreamscape and deluxe collage where everything, especially the grotesque, is beautiful.
Alchemist of light and composition, distiller of Platonic gold from leaden flesh, Renaissance futurist and musclebound death machine to boot; Allan Amato is easily my favorite photographer.
I'm currently a little too pressed for time to manage very much TFP, but I do offer diminished rates for individuals not funded by any major corporations, NGO's, or sugar daddies. If one of these depictions does apply to you, I'd encourage deceit on your part, as I'm not terribly well informed.
Mother of London
13th Planet Records
Toni and Guy