There’s never a bad time to eulogise mesmerising works of art, especially when they come from a place of sheer intent. Upon closer inspection, the canvases of Lebanese-Venezuelan painter @angelo.mnsr make for a captivating practice, which weighs in on the parallels of identity, plurality and longing to belong. “How I want to feel with my paintings is like a safe space where viewers could just relax, even though they have a lot to say on the side of culture, religion and faith,” Mansour opins, reflecting on the cross-pollination of references that shape his works. “I want people to understand, even though the world is a scary place and there’s a lot of issues going around it, to feel safe, sit down, take a good breath and come to terms that there’s a lot of complexities happening before us.” Born in Lebanon, after living in Victoria Island (Nigeria) for over a decade due to his father’s job, Mansour moved to Milan aged 19 - the year of Beirut’s explosions. Since then, his creative vein has gained a deeper approach, pointing to vulnerability and emotion-laced turmoil in equal measure. “If you can’t go home, where is home?” He muses, his head tilting with dismay. “Once I step onto my country’s ground, even though it’s in a bad state, just listening to my first language feels soothing. But knowing that I can’t be or live there makes me wonder where I belong.” But there’s more to the story, so hit the link in bio. @theglassmagazine 🤍

Photographer @giuliamantovaniph
Interview and fashion @chido.obasi
Grooming @lorisrocchi
Producer @jessicalovato_
Coordination @coccobeloooo
Photography Ass. @_effe_a_
Styling Ass.@vaghiveronica

#Lebanon #Venezuela #Artist #Art #Paintings #Painter #Milan #Culture #theglassmagazine #globalaffairs #internationalaffairs #interview #Editorial #photography
There’s never a bad time to eulogise mesmerising works of art, especially when they come from a place of sheer intent. Upon closer inspection, the canvases of Lebanese-Venezuelan painter @angelo.mnsr make for a captivating practice, which weighs in on the parallels of identity, plurality and longing to belong. “How I want to feel with my paintings is like a safe space where viewers could just relax, even though they have a lot to say on the side of culture, religion and faith,” Mansour opins, reflecting on the cross-pollination of references that shape his works. “I want people to understand, even though the world is a scary place and there’s a lot of issues going around it, to feel safe, sit down, take a good breath and come to terms that there’s a lot of complexities happening before us.” Born in Lebanon, after living in Victoria Island (Nigeria) for over a decade due to his father’s job, Mansour moved to Milan aged 19 - the year of Beirut’s explosions. Since then, his creative vein has gained a deeper approach, pointing to vulnerability and emotion-laced turmoil in equal measure. “If you can’t go home, where is home?” He muses, his head tilting with dismay. “Once I step onto my country’s ground, even though it’s in a bad state, just listening to my first language feels soothing. But knowing that I can’t be or live there makes me wonder where I belong.” But there’s more to the story, so hit the link in bio. @theglassmagazine 🤍 Photographer @giuliamantovaniph Interview and fashion @chido.obasi Grooming @lorisrocchi Producer @jessicalovato_ Coordination @coccobeloooo Photography Ass. @_effe_a_ Styling Ass.@vaghiveronica #Lebanon #Venezuela #Artist #Art #Paintings #Painter #Milan #Culture #theglassmagazine #globalaffairs #internationalaffairs #interview #Editorial #photography
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