There’s something infectious about Brazilian artist Rafael Silveira’s work, as if the passion he gets from delivering vision to canvas is somehow captured in those melting popsicles, rose beaks and flirting birds. That enthusiasm then bounces back to the audience, making our lips curl upward. Many of his whimsical works rival those of Magritte, one of the most iconic Surrealists in history, often combining seemingly impossible objects to float in spaces usually reserved for facial features (think apples, oranges, and birdcages where heads would be). However, Magritte used a more subdued palette and Silvera used marshmallow colors that almost slipped off the canvas. In his scenes, headless busts are surrounded by oozing plants or feathered friends, eyes fixed on bellies, against magenta clouds and emerald skies. We’ll also find tree branches with high-heeled legs and eyes dripping from the table. (A homage to Dali, perhaps?)
Silvera’s imagination seemed to have no limits. “I have been drawing for as long as I can remember, my mind filled with a chaotic imagination that merged with everything around me, as if everything melted and merged somehow, including my thoughts and memories. I believe I started drawing by imitating my sister,” he said.
Growing up, Silvera didn’t consider herself particularly adept with pens. Yet his obsession drove him to articulate in any way possible the unusual images that permeated his (still) buzzing mind. As a young teenager, he began creating humor magazines (influenced by MAD and Robert Crumb) and launched a decade-long career as a graphic artist, working in design, advertising and illustration. In his work today we may still notice traces of this tight rendering, but his use of the brush brought an extra dimension and expressive freedom that better suited his style.
It was his sister who ultimately inspired him to switch from graphic arts to painting entirely. A talented oil painter who specialized in traditional subjects such as landscapes and still lifes, she unfortunately died at the age of thirty-three, a loss that left a deep mark on Silvera. By continuing where she left off at the easel, Silvera subconsciously felt that he was keeping her creative spirit alive. He shared, “A year after she died, I started painting. It was as if the energy of her paintings was still there, hovering over my family, slowly melting and merging with my soul. After about two years of painting, I quit my formal job and became a full-time artist. That was in 2009.”
