There is something contagious about the work of Brazilian artist Rafael Silveira, as if the zeal he gleans from transmitting vision to canvas are somehow captured inside those melting popsicles, rose mouths, and flirting birds. That zeal then ricochets onto the audience, nudging an upward curl upon our lips. Much of his whimsical work can be likened to Magritte, one of history’s most iconic surrealists, who often combined unlikely objects, floating about in space normally reserved for facial features (think apples, oranges, and birdcages where a head should be). Yet as Magritte used a more subdued palette, Silveira employs cotton candy colors that practically glide off the canvas. In his scenes, headless busts are besieged by oozing flora or feathered friends with eyes for bellies, amongst magenta clouds and emerald skies. We’ll also find trees with high-heeled legs for branches, and eyes dripping off tables. (A little nod to Dalí perhaps?)
It seems that there are no limitations to the stirrings of Silveira’s imagination. “Ever since I can remember, I have been drawing, my thoughts filled with a chaotic imagination that blends everything around me, as if everything melts and merges somehow, including my thoughts and memories. I believe I started drawing by imitating my older sister,” he says.
Growing up, Silveira didn’t consider himself to be particularly skilled with the pen. Yet his obsession spurred him to articulate the unusual images which infiltrated his (still) buzzing mind, in whichever way possible. As a young teen, he started off creating humorous zines (influenced by MAD and Robert Crumb), spawning a ten-year career as graphic artist, working in design, advertising, and illustration. In his work today, we may still notice traces of this tight rendering, yet his use of the brush has allowed for an extra dimensionality and expressive freedom which better suits his style.
It was his sister who ultimately inspired him to shift from graphic art to painting altogether. A talented oil painter of more traditional subjects such as landscapes and still lifes, she unfortunately passed away at the young age of thirty-three, a loss that left a deep mark on Silveira. By picking up where she left off at the easel, Silveira subliminally feels he has kept her creative spirit alive. He shares, “A year after her death, I started painting. It was as if the energy that made her paint had remained, hovering over the family, and slowly melted and fused with my soul. After about two years of painting, I quit my formal job to become a full-time artist. That was in 2009.”
