On the occasion of our exhibition Yoab Vera: Reminiscence — Contigo Aprendí (July 10-August 22, 2024), we spoke with the Mexico City and Istanbul-based artist about his work.  Yoab Vera employs the motif of a sea horizon as a guiding structural event for contemplation. Using oil-stick, oil, and concrete, Vera integrates architecture, spirituality, and neuroaesthetics in what he terms “haptic contemplative painting.” Vera distills the complexity of passing time into the simple truth of the rise and fall of the sun, mindfully exploring reality through the present moment, the psychological components of memory, and the changing conditions of light.

Installation view of Yoab Vera: Reminiscence — Contigo Aprendí (July 10-August 22, 2024) at Alexander Berggruen, NY.

Q: How did you arrive at your technique to apply concrete in your paintings?

A: My decision to use concrete emerges from observations of how painting has been indexed on built environments, particularly in Mexico. I’m thinking of paintings on walls, from pre-Columbian frescoes and Colonial façades, to Muralism and Mexican modernist architecture. In contemporary Mexico, the urbanscape intertwines chromatically ebullient façades together with numerous constructions that are in progress, some perpetually unfinished. Those brightly colored walls juxtapose with the vast presence of raw concrete.

“I wanted to find a process where both genealogies, architecture and paintings, would hybridize.”

During graduate school, I began using concrete instead of paint. I made a series of exposed concrete paintings on construction materials. Each painting was a monochromatic ‘concrete gray’. The surface was irregular, quite textured. Gradually, I began to add color to these textured surfaces by painting on them once they were dried. However, I wanted to find a process where both genealogies, architecture and paintings, would hybridize. This directed me into exploring how concrete and oil could integrate as one material. I thought of something in between gesso on canvases and applied plaster for painting on walls. So, after finishing my master’s degree I went on to study fresco painting in Oaxaca. I wanted to learn pre-Columbian techniques using natural pigments as well as Muralism techniques.

So, my process to integrate concrete and oil painting came to my awareness after studying fresco painting. A fresco is painted on a prepared and wet wall with pigments that dissolve in water and adhere directly to the fresh mortar. In this way, the colors are integrated with the wall and become part of it. There are several processes in the preparation of a wall so that it is capable of holding a fresco painting. During each layering process the mortar varies in percentage of lime and sand. In a fresco, the first layers integrate the architectural wall with the fresh mortar. The last processes are more painterly because it requires applying pigments into the fresh mortar and directly into the fresh wall, hence the fresco term. The process of this final layering of the fresco is similar to how I physically apply the treated concrete I use and the oil-stick and oil-paintings into my canvases.

Yoab Vera
Recuerditos Cotidianos: Gratitude (to Agnes Martin), 202
oil-stick and concrete on canvas, framed
17 3/4 x 21 5/8 in. (45 x 55 cm.)

Q: Could you explain the physical process of how you apply paint and concrete to canvas?

A: I paint with treated concrete, oil-stick, and oil by moving the palm of my hand gently from side to side, smearing the painting and concrete throughout the canvas. This manual process amalgamates the paint and the concrete as a hybrid medium. Because of the rapid drying duration of the concrete, I have to combine them on the surface actively as I am painting. The process traces rugged, colorful textures when it dries. Perceptually, I am interested in observing those uneven surfaces. They refer to the tactile process and respond as a kind of f topographical map of moods and memories of places.

Yoab Vera at Casa Gilardi, Mexico City, MX during his solo show Scent of Time: Horizontes Temporales, February 2024.

Q: How has your background studying architecture in Mexico City informed this process?

A: I think that more than studying architecture, the context of growing up in Mexico City affected my interest in observing both architecture and painting, as two entities in constant conversation. This dialogue manifests in painted walls. This interaction of color on a vertical plane interests me because it requires thinking about how that surface behaves.

That is, how that structural surface is scaled and built; how it is demarcated through shapes and color. How that action of pigmenting that surface will affect those who inhabit it – the physical and visual qualities of that surface will emanate a sensoriperceptual effect on those who encounter it. And, how the intention and decision to pigment that surface will transmit an essence to the context in which it exists and where it originated. Thus, my paintings involve motifs of contemplative spaces or moments that are representations of recognizable motifs to evoke shared memories, familiarity, interconnectedness. I think it is a search for belonging and common humanity.

This search for interconnectedness and belonging is still present and it guides my way of observing the world. I feel attuned to notice how a place feels. And that’s what I loved about giving myself time to walk or sit to contemplate a place where I am at, repetitively. This is how my Recuerditos Cotidianos, my Week paintings and my Calendars emerged. Perhaps my own ongoing migration of more than half of my life has led me to look at places closely. Their historical architectures integrated with their natural and contemporary environments has a sensoriperceptual effect in the actual context. That’s what essentially interests me while I’m painting. Finding those motifs and indexes, both representational and material, which manifest a sense of connection or bonding. Something as simple as people sitting to watch a sunset or noticing concrete as material symbols of architecture.

As a gregarious species we tend to look for connection with others. I’m constantly attuned to how our spatial context generates those moments. And at the same time how the visuals of a place can be the access threshold to uncover stories or to rewrite histories of that such place. So, when I decided to study architecture, I had an interest in understanding a particular type of place, Mexico. I was driven to study Mexican modernist architecture, particularly, the works of architects like Luis Barragán or Mathias Goeritz. Paradoxically, diving into their “Emotional Architecture” which still inspires me, was a milestone in my decision to leave architecture to explore painting. I think that the chromatic spirit of Emotional Architecture is still present in the contemplative colors and textures of my modular paintings.

Yoab Vera
Semana Serenata: Dance by the Sea (to Sol LeWitt), 2024
oil, oil-stick, and concrete on canvas, framed
overall: 7 7/8 x 68 7/8 in. (20 x 175 cm.)
each: 7 7/8 x 9 7/8 in. (20 x 25 cm.)

Q: You painted each of the seven canvases that make up Semana Serenata: Dance by the Sea (to Sol LeWitt) in one day over the course of a week. Can you walk us through your meditative routine on the days in which you’re embarking on your week- or month-long series?

A: In my daily meditation sitting and painting practice, I find that both activities intertwine through a shared contemplation of time and memory. Each of the seven canvases in Semana Serenata: Dance by the Sea (to Sol LeWitt), which form a unified piece when displayed together, was painted on a separate day over the course of a week, capturing the same seascape with the sun from the same vantage point. This is why I refer to them as Week paintings.

“Attentively blending concrete and oil by hand mirrors the mindfulness of meditation.”

The daily ritual of painting, much like my meditation practice, involves a consistent posture and focus. Attentively blending concrete and oil by hand mirrors the mindfulness of meditation. This routine not only deepens my awareness but also introduces a temporal element, as the drying time of the concrete-oil mixture shapes each painting. This mindful process reflects the way meditation highlights the passage of time and the impermanence of experience. I title the series Semana Serenata —a combination of Semana (week) and Serenata (serenade)—to evoke the idea of a serenade, a musical arrangement intended to elicit memories of love. The term, serenata, derives from the Latin serenus, meaning calm open air, reflecting my love for painting outdoors and capturing the serene moments of the day.

Additionally, I work with month paintings titled Varieties of Presence and single-day paintings titled Recuerditos Cotidianos (or Quotidian Souvenirs), where each canvas of a one week painting, as in Semana Serenata: Dance by the Sea (to Sol LeWitt) also fits this latter category, capturing a daily moment within the broader contemplative framework. The repetition and variation in these works reflect a broader quest to understand time’s impact on our awareness and existence, highlighting the tension between permanence and change. Through both painting and meditation, I seek to embrace presence, memory, and interconnectedness, finding hope in the beauty of transitory moments.

Installation view of Yoab Vera: Reminiscence — Contigo Aprendí (July 10-August 22, 2024) at Alexander Berggruen, NY.

Q: Your painting Semana Serenata: Dance by the Sea (to Sol LeWitt) captures both persistent rhythms and slight changes over time. How is this work arranged? Is it linear?

A: Semana Serenata: Dance by the Sea (to Sol LeWitt) is arranged with a sense of continuity, viewing the sequence of seven canvases as an interconnected flow rather than simply linear. Each canvas, painted on a separate day from my seaside studio in Istanbul, captures the same seascape and horizon over the course of a week. This arrangement reflects both steady rhythms and subtle variations, related to the concept of continuity in topology, where small changes in one part of a sequence affect the whole in an unbroken, interconnected manner. The repeated observations of the same scene create a seamless visual narrative, emphasizing the interplay between constancy and change. This notion of continuity and repetition also resonates with Sol LeWitt’s stage design for Dance—a choreographic work by Lucinda Childs featuring minimalist music with repetitive structures by Philip Glass and a set design mirroring and projecting the dancers on stage created by LeWitt. It’s like a memory of movement being projected in place. Just as the scenic elements in Dance frame and highlight the performance, my work frames the sea horizon and my seated vantage point, making me a spectator of the natural scene akin to viewing Dance. Through this continuous sequence, Semana Serenata: Dance by the Sea (to Sol LeWitt) intertwines these scenic experiences, offering a meditative reflection on the passage of time.

Yoab Vera
Reminiscence: Lines of Sight (to Carmen Herrera), 2024
oil, oil-stick, and concrete on canvas, framed
39 3/8 x 31 1/2 in. (100 x 80 cm.)
framed: 40 x 32 in. (101.6 x 81.3 cm.)

Q: Sometimes, the sun is clearly depicted, and at other times, it may be obscured within hazy clouds or veiled completely. How do you determine its presence in each painting? At what point in your painting process does the sun enter the composition?

A: I am deeply interested in how environments affect us. In my paintings, I am exploring both the psychology of a place and the spiritual sublime it can generate, whether the setting is architecturally planned or shaped by natural processes. Optical phenomena resulting from the interaction of light and matter captivate me. This interest parallels the behavior of particles and the physical dispersion of oil and concrete on the surface of my paintings. For instance, the colors we see in the sky are scattered by atmospheric molecules, causing sunsets to turn the sky pink as shorter-wavelength blues and violets are dispersed, leaving longer-wavelength yellows, oranges, and reds more visible. These visibility and chromatic effects intrigue me profoundly, offering a contemplative perspective that contributes to a sense of meaning and connection to the natural word.

Repeated observations of the same panorama from a fixed point cultivate an intuitive awareness of the sun’s daily path. This practice resembles meditation, requiring patience and attention—sometimes the sun is obscured by clouds, revealing new nuances in the changing colors. In my paintings, the sun’s placement is intuitive. It acts as a guide for developing my seascapes. I visualize it in my mind before translating this image onto the canvas. This spatial and self-awareness helps me understand the sun’s position, even when hidden by clouds.

“I use concrete to depict clouds, waves, and the sun’s reflection, creating an ethereal representation of nature as a cemented memory of its fleeting moments.”

The choice to include or obscure the sun in my work depends on atmospheric conditions and my intuitive sense of the scene. At the start of my painting process, I observe the horizon and internalize the sun’s position and the play of light across the sea. This contemplation informs the composition. The sun’s presence or absence gradually appears on the canvas, guided by memory and observed light conditions. I use concrete to depict clouds, waves, and the sun’s reflection, creating an ethereal representation of nature as a cemented memory of its fleeting moments. The sun serves as a focal point for reflection, especially during sunrise and sunset, akin to a meditative practice. Whether it is a bright focal point or a subtle suggestion behind clouds, the sun’s placement emerges organically, balancing constancy and change in my seascapes. This focus on the sun and the act of pausing reflect my interest in the meditative nature of observing natural phenomena.

Yoab Vera
Reminiscence: Einstein on the Beach (to Philip Glass, Lucinda Childs, and Robert Wilson), 2024
oil, oil-stick, and concrete on canvas, framed
31 1/2 x 39 3/8 in. (80 x 100 cm.)
framed: 32 x 40 in. (81.3 x 101.6 cm.)

Q: The colors in your paintings span a range of hues and saturations. Where do your colors emerge from? How true to life are they?

A: For me color is material, a ubiquitous and perceivable substance that transmits the heart of everyday life. In my process, the initial use of color is highly saturated because I apply paint from oil-tubes and oil-sticks directly into the canvas. The saturation and value of each color changes due to the concrete that I use to mix them with. Thus, the resulting range of hues in my paintings emerge from the act of reminiscing the chromatic feeling of a place and transferring those memories into the canvas by mixing oil-paintings and concrete.

The colors and textures in my paintings refer to memories of urban landscapes. The places where I live today, Mexico City and Istanbul, inform the motifs I use. I think of my paintings as modular landscapes. For the exhibition, they are modular seascapes, with a horizon that segments the sky and the sea. On the other hand, this composition of sky and sea balanced through the horizon, generates a geometric composition of two monochromatic squares. This simple arrangement of colors reminds me of the architectural composition of a façade in Mexico City. My earliest memory of this reference, where architecture and painting meet, is in the neighborhood of Coyoacán. It is a colorful and picturesque old town, where I grew up and where I still maintain a studio and paint in a garden, outdoors.

Color invites to contemplate. It incites curiosity. In essence, I am interested in the contemplative stimulus generated by the variety of hues in the scenery of a place. I like to notice these variations, either in the reflection of the sea or in the gradient of the sky, as well as in the architecture of a site, the patinas of walls and the textures of grounds. Colors remind me to pause and to observe the present moment. Color indicates time through the variation of light. Light is like a hand-clock that is constantly changing and indicating variations of hues in the context of a place.

Installation view of Yoab Vera: Reminiscence — Contigo Aprendí (July 10-August 22, 2024) at Alexander Berggruen, NY.

Q: What draws you to painting subjects that are both representational and abstract?

A: This dual distinction between a representational seascape and geometric abstraction interests me because it is relational to the process of remembering. I am interested in the relationship between the cognitive and the sensory in recollecting memories. There is a stimulus of decoded and recognized information – lingual- (a seascape), and another, encoded and felt -prelingual- (felt memories of colors). The transition of colors and the texture of memories allow us to contemplate the dichotomy of body and mind through simple observations of the everyday.