Life With Oscar Piccolo
Life With Oscar Piccolo
Born in Sicily, Oscar Piccolo had a roaming childhood, moving between Ghana, Turkey, Egypt, and Libya. Now based in East London, he dabbles in loads of different creative disciplines. Art direction, set design, interiors and—most notably—his signature range of squiggly lights, named ‘Lampada Cappello,’ which you’ve probably seen online or in the home of someone with great taste. As Oscar says, “I was always encouraged to explore and make, and that’s definitely stayed with me.”
We recently paid him a visit, to find out a bit more about his eclectic taste, style influences, memories of home, and how he likes to spend an ideal Sunday.
Text by Finlay Renwick, Photos by Arthur Comely
What’s your favourite London season and why?
I’d say autumn. I live right opposite Victoria Park, so you really feel the shift when it comes in. I’m not entirely sure why, maybe because I grew up in warmer countries where I didn’t really experience it, but there’s something about the orange and brown leaves that I really like. When I take my dog Pluto out, he sort of disappears into them, which is quite funny.
What have you been reading and listening to lately?
I just finished Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin, which was beautiful but very sad. I tend to go through phases with reading where a book sits by my bed for months and then I suddenly finish it in two sittings. Music-wise, I’ve been listening to a lot of Franco Battiato lately, in particular “Cuccurucucù”. I’ve also gone back to Des Visages des Figures by Noir Désir, especially “Le vent nous portera”. My mum used to play it while getting ready before we’d go out when I was younger, so it’s a very comforting one for me.
What’s a work of art that changed your life?
That’s a difficult one, I wouldn’t say there’s a single piece. I’ve been really struck by the work of people like Enzo Mari, Salvatore Fiume, Bruno Munari and Riccardo Dalisi. The way they work with colour, form, function and space, and how they play with figures and shape, is something I find really interesting.
Do you have a uniform? Or any items that have become a go-to?
I tend to be in a shirt most of the time. Shirts have really become a go-to. They feel quite considered, but still work in a casual, everyday way, which I like. Also, pockets. I’ve worn shirts with pockets for so long that it now feels strange not having one. Even if I’m not using it, just knowing it’s there is sort of reassuring. I once found a small pencil in my shirt’s pocket during a meeting, which was a nice surprise.
How did you develop your taste? What were your early memories and inspirations?
I’ve been very fortunate to grow up in a creative environment. My mum is a painter and a maker, and she’s always been a big influence on me. When we moved to an empty house in Ghana, she designed everything from scratch, sketching furniture and working with local artisans to make it all. Seeing how she brought a space to life like that really shaped the way I think about design and making.
What’s the best way to spend £20 or €20?
In Palermo, my ideal spend is about €4, a cappuccino, a cornetto con crema, then a trip to the edicola to get a Panini football sticker cards. I’ve been doing that since I was a kid, it’s become more of a habit really. Growing up, my grandma used to give me €20 for my birthday and tell me to go buy myself a gelato. At the time I found it funny because a gelato was nowhere near €20, but now looking back I find it really sweet.
What makes Sicily a special place? What makes it different to the rest of Italy? And how has it shaped your work?
My memories of Sicily, especially the ones around family, have definitely shaped my work. I think about small things, my dad bringing me a treccina, my mum reminding me to drink my pear juice, my grandma cooking with the TV on; a photo of the Pope surrounded by figurines of saints under a clock, ashtrays and wooden bowls scattered around, pans drying outside the window. These everyday details really stayed with me. Things like my nonno’s Carruba sweets, the calendar from the meccanico, Sellerio books in the living room, they really defined my childhood and I think my work naturally carries that world with it; an appreciation for objects, memory, and the everyday domestic life.
What’s your signature dish when you’re trying to impress someone?
Oof, probably some sort of pasta, maybe with smoked passata and parmigiano, something quite simple. That said, I once tried to cook while being watched and completely burnt everything, so I’ve been keeping a bit of distance trying to impress someone for now.
What’s your order at the bar?
At the moment, a Guinness. Or a Moretti. Very simple.
Where’s your favourite gallery or museum and why?
The Whitechapel Gallery here in London holds a special place for me, I did an internship there during my first year of university and it was quite hands-on; installing signage, climbing ladders, running around putting up posters. Many of the skills I developed there are ones I still draw on today. Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge is another favourite too; it was the home of Jim Ede (a former Tate curator), where he lived with his wife, Helen. The space has more or less been left as they had it, filled with the art they collected alongside everyday objects. It has this really calm feel to it.
What do people get wrong when it comes to interiors and lighting in their homes? Any common mistakes?
I feel the hue of bulbs is something I notice often; it’s usually either too white or quite yellow and not that warm. That said, everyone’s space is so personal, so I understand it’s subjective. I find going into someone’s home quite interesting, you really see who they are through the space. I tend to greet someone’s home when I walk in; it’s something my mum taught me, as a small way of acknowledging the space I’m being welcomed into.
Who or what has influenced your style the most?
A lot of it comes from the people I spend time with, friends, family, conversations. It can also be something really small, like the wrapper of a sweet, a song someone’s listening to, or something I’ve passed by without really thinking about it at the time. I feel like it’s constantly shifting, picking things up and letting others go. It sort of adapts but there’s always something familiar in it.
What’s a film that everyone should watch?
In the Mood for Love. The way Mrs. Chan and Mr. Chow exist and hover in that space between friendship and suppressed desire, all through quiet moments and repetition… it’s beautifully done.
What’s your favourite room in your house and why?
I’d say my kitchen, even though it’s very narrow and two people barely fit in it. I really enjoy spending time there, maybe because it’s the first room I go to when I wake up to make a coffee; sometimes I just end up standing there working for a bit
How would you spend a perfect Sunday?
A perfect Sunday for me is a pint and good company, maybe followed by a nice walk home. A football game would be ideal as well, although I play on Thursdays at the moment.
