Chrisie Nimenko
Some pieces reveal themselves immediately.
Others make you look once, then look again.
Angelli is one of those pieces.
At first, it's extraordinarily beautiful.
Flowers. Butterflies. Gold. Renaissance imagery. Angels.
But underneath all of that beauty is something much deeper.
The title Angelli takes its inspiration from the Italian word for the angels depicted within 14th and 15th-century altarpieces.
At the centre sits Mary, surrounded by figures playing musical instruments, while the Angel Gabriel looks down from above.
It feels almost celebratory.
But then you notice the skull.
Sitting quietly at the very top of the composition, almost hidden amongst the flowers, it changes how you read everything beneath it.
Because once again, Chrisie introduces the idea of Memento Mori:
Remember that you must die.
The flowers surrounding the religious imagery come from photographs of roses taken in the artist's own garden. Beautiful, living things captured at a particular moment in time.
And then there are the butterflies.
For me, they're what really bring the piece together.
They represent transformation — the journey through life, death and whatever may exist beyond it.
And against the Renaissance imagery and genuine gold, that symbolism becomes incredibly powerful.
Perhaps that's what I like most about Angelli.
It doesn't present life and death as opposites.
It places them alongside one another.
Beauty and mortality.
Life and death.
The physical and the spiritual.
The temporary and the eternal.
Created as a mixed-media collage on 320gsm smooth fine-art paper, Angelli is hand-finished with 24 carat gold and gold gouache, giving the work a richness that photographs simply don't fully capture.
The piece is now completely sold out.
And within The Allun Lewis Collection, it sits alongside Metamorphosis and Reflection on Mortality as part of a fascinating conversation about something art has explored for centuries:
What does it mean to be alive when we know that life is temporary?
Maybe that's why these pieces speak to me.
They aren't simply something to look at.
They ask you to look beyond.
THE ALLUN LEWIS COLLECTION
Art collected. Stories preserved.
Chrisie Nimenko
Some pieces reveal themselves immediately.
Others make you look once, then look again.
Angelli is one of those pieces.
At first, it's extraordinarily beautiful.
Flowers. Butterflies. Gold. Renaissance imagery. Angels.
But underneath all of that beauty is something much deeper.
The title Angelli takes its inspiration from the Italian word for the angels depicted within 14th and 15th-century altarpieces.
At the centre sits Mary, surrounded by figures playing musical instruments, while the Angel Gabriel looks down from above.
It feels almost celebratory.
But then you notice the skull.
Sitting quietly at the very top of the composition, almost hidden amongst the flowers, it changes how you read everything beneath it.
Because once again, Chrisie introduces the idea of Memento Mori:
Remember that you must die.
The flowers surrounding the religious imagery come from photographs of roses taken in the artist's own garden. Beautiful, living things captured at a particular moment in time.
And then there are the butterflies.
For me, they're what really bring the piece together.
They represent transformation — the journey through life, death and whatever may exist beyond it.
And against the Renaissance imagery and genuine gold, that symbolism becomes incredibly powerful.
Perhaps that's what I like most about Angelli.
It doesn't present life and death as opposites.
It places them alongside one another.
Beauty and mortality.
Life and death.
The physical and the spiritual.
The temporary and the eternal.
Created as a mixed-media collage on 320gsm smooth fine-art paper, Angelli is hand-finished with 24 carat gold and gold gouache, giving the work a richness that photographs simply don't fully capture.
The piece is now completely sold out.
And within The Allun Lewis Collection, it sits alongside Metamorphosis and Reflection on Mortality as part of a fascinating conversation about something art has explored for centuries:
What does it mean to be alive when we know that life is temporary?
Maybe that's why these pieces speak to me.
They aren't simply something to look at.
They ask you to look beyond.
THE ALLUN LEWIS COLLECTION
Art collected. Stories preserved.
