Standing at the crossroads of light, nature, and emotion, Nuria Maria’s latest exhibition, Z I L V E R, offers a breathtaking glimpse into fleeting beauty. Inspired by the shimmering silver tones of willow leaves in the Limburg countryside, her paintings transform movement into stillness, capturing not just landscapes but the essence of a moment. In this conversation, the artist reveals her inspirations, the philosophy behind her work, and how she turns ephemeral experiences into timeless expressions on canvas.
How did the idea for Z I L V E R come about, and what drew you to explore silver tones and light in this new body of work?
Zilver came about throughout the period of the last year living here in Wittem, South Limburg. It’s based on both the idea of a shimmering feeling inside yourself as it is also strongly inspired by nature in this area. Natures’ silver, so to say, the light, the flickering of the leaves, wind over the fields etc. A certain lightness that I longed for to paint.
For an exhibition like this I strive for subjects from my personal life to come together with my surroundings. Coming back to this area, and to myself in a way: a very soothing core inner feeling merged with the beautiful nature here .
Your work captures fleeting moments in nature. How do you translate these ephemeral experiences into something lasting on canvas?
I work in quite a spontaneous way. It’s merely a feeling that leads the composition while constantly balancing the composition. Keeping it in between something heavy and strong and light and transparent. It’s about this balance and the play of colours that, for me, keep a painting natural.
For me it’s not about literally translating something from outside; it’s more about translating something from inside.
The movement of wind through trees and grasses plays a key role in Z I L V E R. How do you approach the challenge of expressing movement in a static medium?
I don’t, and would neither see that as a challenge. Building upon the previous question: These sort of movements in nature live in my head as an image of a moment. It’s the feeling it gives me that I want to paint. I often compared painting as a sort of camera obscura of the head on the canvas and vice versa while seeing it. Something that made me think a lot about this ‘not showing nature though showing nature’ for me is Picasso’s ‘La Femme au Jardin’. This sculpture shows the woman just as much as the surrounding. Musée Picasso placed both the black sculpture and the white sculpture opposite of each other in the staircase once, which enhanced this play of their surroundings.‘ Was one standing in the sun and the other in the shade? Both with their hair blowing. Picking figs; it must be a hot day, the black one in a cool breeze under a tree, the white one in the hot afternoon sun ‘ – these kinds of thoughts.
So for me, it’s about what is shown does with your imagination
Your studio in Limburg overlooks rolling hills and ancient trees. How does your environment shape your creative process and emotional connection to your work?
I go out in nature a lot: I like to emotionally immerse myself in it. Or driving through the area in the car on a rainy day. I really appreciate this calmness of nature. It makes me incredibly happy. With every show until now I have embraced the idea of letting the country and environment that I’m in completely take over the main lead of the show; colour wise, structure wise. I compose an exhibition like a movie. Each painting on their own tells a story just as much as in the whole of the exhibition: they are composed as chapters in the space. The new Cadogan Gallery space in London is uniquely suited and inviting to do something like this. It’s the type of space that you take with you in consideration while working on the exhibition. That’s very special.
There is a strong philosophical undercurrent in your work, with references to Camus and themes of resilience and impermanence. How does philosophy influence your artistic vision?
There are themes that occupy my mind and what I find captivating automatically reflects in my work. What I think of in daily life is what I think of while painting, as my life and painting more and more seem to become one and so what I find interesting automatically becomes part of my work. I think through writing about the work, writing while making an exhibition; in the small poems and texts is where the most direct hints to these themes are directly noticeable.
Z I L V E R has been described as both enveloping and grounding. What emotions do you hope viewers will take away from the exhibition?
Something light. This exhibition is about a beautiful lightness that separates itself from everything else, both in ourselves as in nature. I hope to give something of that. Something warm, light and slightly poetic.
Your work has often been compared to Impressionism in its focus on light and atmosphere. Do you see yourself continuing in this lineage, or do you see your approach as distinctly contemporary?
I think this language has always been there in my work and I find it hard to imagine I would ever let go of these themes completely because you can find it back in everything there is; light and atmosphere. I myself do indeed make references to impressionism because of a certain approach. At the same time the works are abstract, expressionistic and fluent. In the end the work is contemporary. It is from now.
Technology and art are increasingly intersecting. Have you ever explored digital mediums, or do you feel a strong commitment to traditional techniques in capturing nature’s beauty?
I worked a lot with video installations and music before I completely started focussing on painting. I absolutely love to work with these digital mediums and will probably do that again in the future. The theme itself though has never changed. One of my video installations years ago was about two seasons, Summer and Autumn, loving each other but never able to be together, chasing one another.
There’s always nature, melancholy, love and light.
xxx
Z I L V E R by Nuria Maria
from April 24 until May 24, 2025
Cadogan Gallery, London
