I meet Adriano Alia in a little park in Porta Romana. He’s sitting on a bench, waiting for me with a large book next to him and a small analog camera in his hands. I asked Adriano to meet because I was intrigued by his unusual first approach to photography. I was already familiar with his work through social media; in Milan, he’s made a name for himself, especially for shooting some of the most famous rappers, as well as numerous models. Anyone who frequents Milan’s nightlife, especially release parties, will have surely encountered him or at least heard of him. I only find out later that Alia has been in prison and that it was there he first got into photography. Doing some research, I discovered a project he did behind bars, and, most notably, that some of these photographs were exhibited in a show at the PAC in Milan. So, I prepare some questions and meet Adriano. He immediately shows me the large book resting on the bench; it’s the catalog of the PAC exhibition, titled Ri-scatti. Per me si va tra la perduta gente, which represents the beginning of his journey. We talk about his arrest, the numerous transfers before arriving at Bollate prison, which, as he says, changed his life. Until today, his career, and his success. During the conversation, there were moments of strong emotion – especially on my part – which underline the great adaptability and redemption that human beings can demonstrate even in difficult situations. In this sense, by confining this willpower within the walls of a prison, the help must come from above or, as is the case in many situations, from outside, allowing but above all believing in the possible redemption of prisoners.
Without a doubt, the story we are telling today is one of the few with a happy ending. As Adriano is keen to point out, without this course, designed and organized by the Milan PAC and Ri-scatti Onlus – the voluntary association that has been creating events and initiatives for social redemption through photography since 2014 – and promoted by the City of Milan with the support of Tod’s and the contribution of LCA Studio Legale, none of this would have happened. Let’s start with the interview and find out how to become a photographer in prison.
Let’s start from the beginning. How did you approach photography in prison?
AA: During my time in prison, I had the opportunity to learn how to shoot. One day Amedeo Novelli from Sony and Diego Sileo from PAC in Milan came to Bollate prison and proposed a photography course. The course lasted a couple of months, during which they gave us the opportunity to learn how to use the camera and to use it inside the prison, in the spaces we accessed, so also in the cells, air zones, corridors and common spaces. I had fun, I found my passion, and from that moment I haven’t stopped taking pictures.
Your shots cover a period of two years. How did you manage to shoot even after the course ended?
AA: Even after the course ended, I was able to continue taking pictures by putting myself forward as a photographer for the prison newspaper, carteBollate. But it was only after the okay of the newspaper director Susanna Ripamonti that I officially continued shooting. I was taking pictures during interviews with family members and during events, when politicians or public figures came inside the prison, as well as continuing to shoot my comrades. Until the day of release-which was August 18, 2023-I took pictures every day, building over time a real reportage of life inside the prison.
What were your favorite subjects? What did you look for in your shots?
AA: In the everyday norm, the main subjects were my friends. I used to propose them to take pictures outdoors during leisure hours or even in the cell. I found the way of life we had fascinating compared to what is outside, because inside there are things that when you are free you see as very normal objects of use and consumption, instead in jail some objects, some ways of doing things, some things we did sounded peculiar to me and in my opinion they were worth photographing. My own friends were saying to me, “Adri will you take a picture of us, will you take a picture of us here? Look, I got these new clothes for the interview,” or “I got a haircut today,” “I want to send a picture to my girlfriend outside.” So taking a picture of them was no longer just a picture, but it was a message that you sent to your loved ones to show how good we could feel inside.
From the way you tell it, shooting in prison sounds like a simple process, but I’m sure there’s more to it than that. Have you ever encountered obstacles? Hostility?
AA: There was always a bit of hostility, especially from some prison officers, because it was so unusual. Whereas on the other hand, thanks to Susanna Ripamonti and Director Giorgio Leggieri who gave me so much space, I had the opportunity to really delve into photography.
Do you think the hostility came from the fact that you might have documented something uncomfortable?
AA: Yes, you could say that I also photographed some of the flaws of the prison, maybe even things that I couldn’t have photographed or shouldn’t have even seen.
Is it a problem today to publish these shots?
AA: No, the shots I took during the course have already been published already seen in an exhibition that was held at the PAC in Milan. At the end of the course, photos were selected and these photos went on display at the Pavilion of Contemporary Art in Milan, and so everyone I had photographed during the course had already signed the release. Then the photos I took after the course I always took anyway to my friends.
Despite the bad experience of being in prison, it seems like it offered you a new opportunity. What do you think about that?
AA: Yes, it sounds absurd to say, but being in jail was a turning point in my life. Especially the last two and a half years I spent in Bollate were perhaps some of the best years of my life because, after a few years with the same people, unbreakable bonds are formed, your fellow inmates become like brothers. In the end, Bollate is a prison, but it’s not closed off from the outside world. There are many volunteers, many courses, plenty to do. If you’re someone who wants to make the most of it, Bollate prison gives you the opportunity to do so. I did a lot of things, I tried to keep myself busy every day, all day long, with as many things as I could, and the days flew by.
You mentioned that before Bollate, you were in both San Vittore and Opera. Are there similar opportunities for inmates there too?
AA: Yes, when I was arrested in 2019, they took me to San Vittore prison. After a few months in San Vittore, I was transferred to Opera, despite it being my first time in prison. I still don’t know why. Opera is a really boring prison; apart from working out and playing cards, there’s not much you can do. After a year, thanks to Covid, I managed to spend a year on probation. Then, due to an investigation initiated by the Prosecutor’s Office, they decided to bring me back to jail, and I stayed there until the end of my sentence. I was lucky because I didn’t return to the original prison; instead, they sent me to Bollate. The photography course I took was actually also held in other prisons in Milan – Opera, San Vittore and the IPM Cesare Beccaria -, however, I think the possibilities Bollate gives you are not so easy to find in other prisons.
What happened when you got out of prison? How did you approach the world of photography outside?
AA: As soon as I got out, I had no intention of taking pictures because I thought that my photography was something only about prison and that outside, as a free person, there was too much competition. I was a little demoralized, I thought I was not a photographer and I would be a drop in the ocean. Then, thanks to my friends, especially Andrea Sata and Zano, I found the motivation to continue. I bought a cheap analog and a Kodak Gold 200 ISO film and made my first roll of photographs. It was cool because, by happenstance, at that time I caught a lot of cool people, especially famous people who I’m not going to list here. Then I evolved, I bought a nicer camera, still analog. An Olympus compact, which has now become my must-have item.
Coming out of prison you inevitably found yourself without your subjects. Why did you choose precisely the people of the night as the new protagonists of your shots?
AA: Imagine that after my time in prison I no longer knew the night. When I was arrested I was twenty-five years old, I was young and loved going out at night. When I got free I remembered how much I liked the night, going to nice places and making new acquaintances. I was very well received by my friends, who took me to release parties. I had no idea what a release party even was.
I think there is a curious parallel between prisoners and celebrities, both of whom are a little reluctant to have their pictures taken. Do you agree with that?
AA: Yes, without a doubt. In prison, I learned to photograph those who are not too happy to have their picture taken. Criminals and VIPs don’t want to be taken. In jail I learned to build confidence with my subject and photograph them at the right time. Almost always cool photos come out because they are spontaneous. They are somewhat lurking photos, almost paparazzi-like, the result is never posed but as natural as possible.
Last question about the future. What are you looking forward to? Do you have plans for an exhibition?
AA: Yes, I would like to do an exhibition in Italy, although I’m afraid that by doing it here it will be a bit exploited, because Italy is still a bit of a bigoted country about these things. At least, that’s my fear. In any case, my dream would be to do it in Milan, where the imprisoned boys I photographed can come. It is important to me that people see what can be done inside a prison and that they understand how crucial it is to promote projects like this. It is full of young people in jail who are brilliant, who discover their talents only in jail because maybe outside they were living a life that did not give them the chance to discover them. But there needs to be a focus on that. Because if no one helps them, when they get out of jail they will go back to doing the same things they did before or even worse, because you get even hungrier when you get out of jail.
Credits Adriano Alia
