Adam, your exhibition at Apsara Studio, Light Presences, marks your first solo show in London, showcasing both previous pieces and a newly created series of oil paintings and works on paper. Could you share insights into these series?

When I thought about this show, my first solo exhibition in London, I realized that I wanted it to be a personal and intimate exhibition—in fact, the most personal show I have exhibited to date. Some paintings and drawings are self-portraits or are of, or based on, my partner, Fernanda. Along with the bathers, which have been a main subject matter in my practice for years, this show gives a strong sense of what I have been working on over the past 4–5 years. The subject matter is nothing new, and I love working with motifs that have been pillars of visual arts throughout the centuries, as they allow me to tackle those questions of matter that so occupy the painter’s mind and hands. I can say that in the works presented in the upcoming show, it’s about extracting as much as one can from the subtle use of paint or ink strokes, and the evocation of space through the deliberate positioning of strokes and color nuances on the surface.

Questions of gesturality, art history, memory, and space have been recurring themes in your practice, forming the foundation for new harmonies and methods of expression, as you’ve described them. How do these themes influence your work, and what journey do you hope these works will take people on?

I never pretend to know how people will react to my work; some will like it, some won’t, and it’s all legitimate. I understood early on that I shouldn’t take people’s praise as well as their criticism—just focus on the work, and that’s it. However, I’m always thankful if someone comes and gives their time to look, whether at my work or anyone else’s, for that matter. There is something miraculous about watching people look at paintings in exhibitions, at the National Gallery, for example. Life is tough, life is full, and it’s not a natural or given situation in which one has the time and mental capacity to focus on art. So when one does, I’m thankful.

Regarding my work and the influences on it, I’ve always liked De Kooning’s quote that “painters don’t have bright ideas.” At the end of the day, I deal with very simple, or should I say, foundational, questions in painting that occupy my mind and develop over time. I’ve always strived for simplicity and clarity of expression, which, for me, are the highest aspirations—those delicate, nuanced moments that are so bare, yet still hold a world on their tip.

You seem to be interested in a variety of subjects, including landscapes, portraits, and the interplay between you, your studio, and the natural world. What draws you to revisit the subject of landscape, and could you walk us through the evolution of your work in this area?

I was fortunate to realize early on that the key, for myself, was the landscape. I love painting, I love painters, and I know them intimately—their biographies, stories, and whereabouts. As Gombrich said, “There is no such thing as art, only artists.” I understood that you cannot understand painting if you don’t know the geography of the artist. You can’t understand Diebenkorn if you don’t understand the Bay Area, you can’t understand Morandi if you haven’t seen Bologna, or Cézanne and Monet if you don’t know their surroundings. And the list goes on and on: Titian and Venice, Constable and England. For me, being trained in the “European Classical” methodology, the entrance was through the Mediterranean. I learned painting through tonality and sculpture, only to get rid of it over time in favor of other means of expression that I felt were more local. Landscape is a miraculous thing; it holds answers to so many painterly questions—depth and space, physicality, color harmonies. I was fortunate to work almost 10 years continuously in the Mediterranean, almost on a daily basis, and over time, I ventured out to meet new horizons, like Brazil, and at Xenia Creative Retreat in Hampshire, where I did a new landscape watercolor series. I guess I’m at a point where I feel comfortable enough to travel around and register new areas, as the base is strong enough.

Thank you, Adam!