Back home in the Netherlands, it was carnival last week but unfortunately, I didn’t manage to go home to celebrate it this year. One of my friends sent me a message: do you feel FOMO? Meaning: The Fear of Missing Out. My answer was clear: I am not afraid of missing out on something, I am sure I am missing out on something! It’s one of the things inherent in living abroad: you simply can’t be present at all places at all times, even though you’d like to be.
Little did I know that only a few hours later, something special would happen that would make me forget about carnival completely…
At the same time, it did not put me in a bad mood at all. On the contrary, in fact. I immensely enjoyed all the carnival updates that came through on my phone in the form of colourful photos and videos. It was Saturday and the sun was shining brightly here in Milan. Spring was palpable in the air – something also inextricably linked to carnival for me – and so I went out with Marco, my extravagant friend. Little did I know that only a few hours later, something special would happen that would make me forget about carnival completely…
Just looking at his name, one might assume he is Dutch, but it’s a town in northern Germany where he is really from
We went on a very clear mission that afternoon: to see the photo exhibition “Timeless Time” of photographer Vincent Peters at the beautiful Palazzo Reale. He has had the world’s biggest stars in front of his lens: Penelope Cruz, Charlize Theron, Emma Watson, Cameron Diaz and, being a very close friend of Monica Bellucci – Italy’s most iconic actress after Sophia Loren – she too is the subject of many of his photos. However, it is not the celebrities alone that make his works so special, but all the more the way he portrays them. Cinematic and dazzling, but at the same time incredibly vulnerable and timeless, almost like a painting. Just looking at his name, one might assume he is Dutch, but it’s a town in northern Germany where he is really from. That he left Germany long ago, we would discover not much later.
Full admiration, we walk through the first two rooms. As we take in each and every picture, Marco suddenly nudges me. “THAT IS HIM!” he shouts in a way to try to keep the volume down. Very subtle, he indicates a man sitting hunched over on a bench in the middle of the room
We join the queue, and not much later we walk up the majestic stairs into the palace. The exhibition consists of ninety photographs, and right away it becomes clear than his take on bellezza, beauty, is simply unrivalled. The combination of the perfectly chosen music and the black-and-white photographs draws me to them like a magnet. Full admiration, we walk through the first two rooms. As we take in each and every picture, Marco suddenly nudges me. “THAT IS HIM!” he shouts in a way to try to keep the volume down. Very subtle, he indicates a man sitting hunched over on a bench in the middle of the room. “Who?”, I ask a little silly. “Vincent Peters, of course!” he hisses. “Are you sure?”, I ask. Marco grabs his phone and googles him, inconspicuously trying to compare the man on the screen with the man sitting there. After an affirmative nod from Marco, I promptly say, “then we should now personally thank him for his work while we have the chance”. A little bit shy but determined, we strike up a conversation. Very soon, we’re not just speaking about his breathtaking photos, but also about why he decided to leave cold northern Germany behind at the age of 17. He asks me why I made the choice to move to Italy, and we speak about what the country means to both of us. After chatting for another while, we thank him again, to then continue to admire the remaining part of the collection, somewhat in disbelief that we have just spoken to the maestro in person, while all other visitors walk pass him seemingly without realizing the artist is right there.
We are thinking exactly the same thing, and as soon as our eyes meet, we realise it. “It’s now or never,” I say
The next moment, we are back outside on the piazza. I fancy a coffee now, and Marco suggests we take it in the palace’s historic café. And as we set course towards the bar, to our surprise we see Vincent Peters standing outside, enjoying the sun. We wave politely at him and walk inside. “Do you take your coffee just quickly standing at the bar?”, Marco asks me. “Um, I think so?”, I reply, while we are both absorbed in a thought. We are thinking exactly the same thing, and as soon as our eyes meet, we realise it. “It’s now or never,” I tell Marco, and before I know it, he is already back outside. The next moment, I hear a very gentle voice behind me “Ciao Anne, it’s so good to see you again”. It is the voice of Vincent Peters, of course, who answered Marco’s question if we could offer him a coffee with an enthusiastic yes.
It’s almost impossible to imagine that a man with a career the size of his, can still feel a little insecure about whether people will appreciate his pictures as he hopes they do
For the next hour and a half, the three of us sit at a small round table in the historic bar. The two gentlemen with a cup of tea, me with my caffè macchiato. A wonderful conversation ensues. Vincent talks about the meaning of beauty, and the relationship each person has with it. Does it intimidate you or do you admire it? Is it something you aspire, or something you want to oppose instead? It says everything about how you think about your own beauty, according to Vincent. Twice, he is moved to tears as he talks about what his art has meant to people. It’s so precious to see this vulnerable side of him, while at the same time it’s almost impossible to imagine that a man with a career the size of his, can still feel a little insecure about whether people will appreciate his pictures as he hopes they do. Moments later, I literally feel like I’ve ended up in a movie scene when I hear him talk about his countless cover shoots for Vogue, Hollywood and all the stars he has under speed dial in his phone. I also ask him what he thinks of the digital world we live in, in which we almost never disconnect from our phones. His answer? “I only shoot photos on film…”
Marco and I cross the piazza, still a little in disbelief of what just happened, when the bright sun and crowd around us brings us back to the present. It seemed as if we had escaped reality for a moment
After saying goodbye, Marco and I cross the piazza, still a little in disbelief of what just happened, when the bright sun and crowd around us brings us back to the present. It seemed as if we had escaped reality for a moment as we sat there in the corner, crammed at that small round table together with world’s most admired photographers. Life really is full of little miracles and special encounters, I think to myself. Maybe this is the reason why I had to miss carnival back home this year.
