Amedeo Vergani was an Italian photojournalist. Actually, so much more.
He covered events in the Balkans, Africa, Middle East, conflicts and worldwide natural wonders. He followed the sub-Saharan nomads, was curious and the world spoke to him; he was passionate and a compassionate fighter: he never forgot any of his fellow photo reporters while working for the Union, teaching for free, helping everyone, known and -mostly – unknown.
His language was coloured, his voice loud, due to the age difference paternalistic at times; he never failed to make me laugh.
When his work was being published internationally, he remained disarmingly humble and curious.
Our telephone calls lasted eternity.
Amedeo was the first one ever – and the only one – to dare call me a Catho-Communist. I was outraged. ‘Come on, that is our upbringing. We are dual’.
I never told him which of the two I could not digest and, throughout the years, I have often questioned how true was his statement.
Blinded by the sun, I see a woman.
Must be I am tired and melancholic, but I think of a Madonna with child.
As if my holy juxtaposition were not enough, in one of my acts of recurrent, utter stupidity I seem to master so well, I look at the horizon thinking Amedeo might be laughing. I blow a kiss to the sky. Just in case.
the talking of the soul 
Amadeo Vergani – The man I wish I would have been. But the winds of fate have set my course and time to go against the tide has run out. Nonetheless however, drifting through the vast Earthly Universe on the vibrations of a Spanish guitar was perhaps the closest one can ever get to the multi layered cosmos of places, people and the edge of the 2-sided coin we all share be it for better or worse.
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You have been serenading the world with your music and words. At times, you slashed the world with your writings. It was all so necessary.
You are being yourself, have always been so and we are so honoured (all VFG, just to mention our close circle of friends) to have met you x
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