Today we’d like to introduce you to Adrian Abela.
Hi Adrian, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
According to my parents, I’ve been drawing ever since I was able to hold a pencil. Growing up in a country without contemporary art spaces until I turned 18, art was always perceived as a mere hobby. Initially, I pursued architecture and after three years in practice I realized that I was not going to solely focus on that. In the meantime I was also teaching drawing to architecture students, and found that to be more fulfilling and impactful. Wanting to lecture at a higher level, I moved to the U.S. to pursue an MFA, and here I discovered the art could indeed have a structured professional path. Slowly, I began to understand the intricacies of how art operates from within the belly of empire.
Today I am lucky to have the space and time to work on my practice that ranges from painting , sculpture to video and public art. I feel immensely grateful to sustain a studio practice and hope that one day my studio can support the livelihoods of others. For now, I supplement my practice with freelance architecture and design projects, alongside assisting an established local artist. I believe this is an extraordinary moment to create art, artists have the responsibility of envisioning a better present.
What once appeared formulaic either no longer works or reveals itself as illusion. Today, my impulse is to broaden my scope and rethink how my work is shared with the world.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
It certainly hasn’t been smooth. But the road itself is built from struggles—just as a car can only move forward because of friction with the ground beneath it. Without resistance, you simply wouldn’t get anywhere. Although the journey is rough, the joy comes from the love, labor, and intention poured into the act of creation itself. Of course, pouring in effort and passion doesn’t always ensure you’ll reach your desired destination; what we desire isn’t always within our control.
I’m beginning to understand that resistance—or “failure,” as defined by our desire to avoid it—may not lead me further along the path I originally imagined. Instead, the road might fork unexpectedly, guiding me toward another destination, perhaps one far more rewarding than I initially envisioned.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
I genuinely don’t believe that anything truly sets me apart from others. Having lived between two culturally distinct worlds, I’ve repeatedly learned that ignorance is the sole creator of the idea of an ‘other.’ We’re all incredibly similar—to the extent that I don’t consider ‘my’ work as solely authored by me. My work responds directly to the world—a world that I haven’t made. Perhaps I’m simply reacting to an external reality, reflecting what I see through my unique set of distortions—distortions shaped by the culture into which I was born, decoded through the language that was installed in me, carrying its own built-in worldview.
Increasingly, it feels less like acquiring knowledge and more like shedding it, a kind of “unlearning.” The absence of conventional knowledge opens up a mysterious kind of Gnosis, and it’s this mystery I attempt to capture in my work.
I particularly enjoy crafting large compositions—installations, as they’re commonly known—made from objects I’ve created, commissioned, or found. I’m also deeply passionate about setting up situations where the public can participate and create unique, collaborative public art pieces.
My projects usually stem from an interest in specific materials or narratives and evolve into attempts to construct parallel experiences of the human condition, bridging realities from the past and future.
A project very close to my heart, and one I wish to expand further, is a public artwork located on the island of Malta. For this work, I collected recordings of secrets shared by villagers from the community where the artwork was intended to be installed. I translated the sound waves of these intimate confessions into tangible, three-dimensional forms. Additionally, the work continues to invite people to anonymously submit their secrets, which are read aloud once a year, spoken out toward the horizon. This annual ritual symbolizes the gentle release of concealed truths—a collective act of healing and renewal.
Can you talk to us a bit about happiness and what makes you happy?
It might seem counterintuitive, but I’m happiest when I realize that I don’t need happiness. Still, there are moments that elevate my chemistry to a state I’d prefer to linger in, such as the sensation produced when reading words that resonate so deeply with the moment that they feel like you had written them in an other lifetime to help you solve a situation you are in right now. Discovering a new flavor, finding forgotten cash tucked inside a jacket after summer, visiting my mom who quietly does my laundry. Making a drawing that feels just right, the unexpected smile of a stranger passing by. Waking up with the sun warming my cheek, suddenly conscious of an uninterrupted wave of light starting some 93 million miles away tickling a single cell in my skin.
Ultimately, remembering that I’m alive—that I’m immersed in life—is the source of my happiness. As an artist, I strive to share this awe about our existence, hoping to inspire others to generate their own sense of wonder, which, in turn, inspires even more creation, perpetuating an endless cycle of marvel.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://adrian-abela.com
- Instagram: https://instagram.com/adrian.mm.abela
- Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/adrian-abela
- Other: https://vimeo.com/adrianabela
Image Credits
portrait by Keith Carlsen
all images by Adrian Abela
images named 2018 Department for Martian Transportation are also courtesy of Malta Contemporary Art (MCA)
