Originally, I visited Mallorca when I was living in Seville in my late teens. That first trip left a lasting impression, to say the least. Fast forward almost twenty years, my wife and I were back in NYC and felt we needed a change of pace. Somewhere a bit more grounded, surrounded by nature, more laid back. My time in Mallorca came back to me, and I described it to my wife. She was sold. Once here, we didn’t need much convincing to stay.
My entire life I’ve been moving—I’ve moved more times than I can count. I remember always saying to myself, “I just want to go home,” not knowing where that was. From the second we landed in Mallorca, it felt like I had found that sense of home I’d been seeking. We still spend a lot of time in NYC to get our fix, but as far as a permanent life, this is our place. We haven’t looked back.
My studio is in an old converted lamb-feeding den from the 18th century, in a fairytale hamlet in the heart of the island. When we converted it, we made sure it was flooded with natural light. It looks out over open land where horses and sheep roam and feed. It’s all quite romantic to be honest. This open space and crisp light have led me to include more breathing room and warmer, muted colours in my works, allowing a bit more space for contemplation.
I also use materials like clay I make from the earth and charcoal from fallen fig and olive trees around the land—unique, location-specific materials that literally carry a piece of the island’s soul. With all that said, I’m still a process-driven painter at heart. The city is still in me, and you can definitely read that in my expressive and emotive signature style.
My work is mixed in style, and I don’t love the idea of putting a concrete label on it, but it would be hard to argue that it isn’t at least rooted in Expressionism. I attack the canvas with wild, gestural strokes and then sit back, deduce, abstract, and begin to build in form and figure—a story. I weave in a lot of abstract figuration and surrealism, but the works always begin with that untamed energy and movement. In the end, I think my work allows growth and development. I like to think of them as living, breathing works of art. They change and move each time one looks at them. This allows for speculation—where the viewer can tie in their own personal stories, memories, experiences, etc.—and it’s also a gift that continues to give. There isn’t one stagnant, universal understanding or recognition of my work. It changes with time and with each viewer.
It’s been a busy and crazy year. A lot of personal life stuff has been going on that’s taken a lot of time and energy, though some exciting career highlights do come to mind; a private exhibition and exclusive solo series created in collaboration with Ferrari, and having works acquired for the Soho House permanent collection, which is one of the largest private collections in the world, holding over 10,000 works. I feel in good company there, hanging with some of the world’s greatest living artists.
Most of my time has been focused on building our family home. It’s been a pretty massive undertaking, and I’ve done most of it with my own two hands, so it’s definitely been a bit consuming. We’re on the final home stretch, though, which is very welcome. I must say the final product is going to be quite special. It’s basically one huge art project—very much an art house.
I’m working on two new themes or concepts at the moment—one for an exhibition in New York in 2026 and another for Barcelona. I’m not at liberty to go into detail on those quite yet, though!
Although the island is surging in popularity and the tourism is real, I still have a few secret, tranquil calas that recharge me and offer great peace when I visit them.
Yeah, I’ve collaborated with quite a few designers and artists across disciplines. Many of the creatives on the island know each other and work on projects together. It’s a small place, and everyone is always running into each other and getting together, it’s pretty great in that sense.
In Palma, Bar La Sang for sure. That’s the spot. I also have a new favourite local place in my village called Café Tomeu, which is amazing. Real, authentic, old-school aesthetic, great food, and good music—all I need.
