Inside the Abstract World of Saul Michael

Studio B at Goldsmiths, University of London, is drab. While the space is almost entirely devoid of color, there is one vibrant, chaotic corner of the studio that young artist Saul Michael calls home. A British artist based between London and Kent, Saul is an abstract painter, occasionally dabbling in photography and mixed-media. His paintings radiate intensity, characterized by thick, explosive strokes of electrifying color that leap out at you from the canvas. 

Currently a student at Goldsmiths after completing his foundation at Camberwell College of Arts (London), Saul Michael’s creative journey has been lifelong. From music to skateboarding, Saul’s art is a tapestry of inspiration drawn from lived experience. I sat down with Saul to discuss abstract practice, visual tactility, and the joy of making art.

FRONTRUNNER is pleased to present Saul Michael. 

This interview has been edited for length and clarity

When and where did your creative journey begin? 

I guess it was with music. I’ve been playing the drums since I was really young, like two or three, which was probably a bit, you know, badly banging on things. But I got better, and then when I was about seven or eight, I started playing guitar. But it was through music and skateboarding that I got into photography, and would make really bad skate videos and take photos. I think that skateboarding’s very artistic. So through that, I got more into doing collage, and when I was about 16 I started painting. I’m not sure exactly. I think I must have seen some exhibit with my mum, we went to some gallery randomly, and I just decided I was going to paint. So I tried to paint landscapes, very badly. When it didn’t go well, I thought I’d try painting abstractly. I enjoyed that. 

If you could describe your work with one word, what would it be and why? Tactile, I’d probably call it. Even though you can’t touch it. I’m not a big fan of painting thinly. The physicality of the paint matters a lot. And I think that’s why I paint fairly large canvases, or on a piece of wood. It kind of comes at you. I like that, it’s so much more satisfying to look at. 

Where do you find inspiration? 

I love landscapes. Landscapes, going to galleries a lot, always looking at things like that. Also reading, I read a lot of books and poetry, and that somehow turns into an abstract painting. A lot of the writers who are painters, too. Like William Burroughs. Album covers, too. I first got into Lino and woodblock printing, and a lot of post-punk and screamo bands will do woodcut prints on cardboard and things like that. 

Are there any particular artists or movements that have really influenced you?

Well, there’s the Bay Area figurative movement, which was quite interesting. It was from the Bay Area [California], and it was basically a bunch of abstract painters who just decided one day, “we’ll paint figuratively.” Although I don’t paint figuratively at the moment, the thing about their work that I really like is how they came at figuration as abstract painters. There were also painters like Francis Bacon. 

Is there any piece that you have created that has a “hidden story” that only you know? Well, when I was at Camberwell, people were painting family photos. Photographic painting. I was running to people like Wilhelm Sasnal and Luc Tuymans, who kind of paint photographs of a political nature. Although, that’s never something I was interested in, at least in terms of my own art. But, I started using imagery I found online, which I didn’t realize was actually very political. That caused tensions for people. It made me much more aware of what I used for my art. There are certain self portraits I’ve made in the past, too. I think the abstract paintings now, you know, they’re maybe not fully emotionally driven. But, if I’m angry or happy or sad, I think it can definitely shape the way I use the paint and what colors I use.

Do you ever look at a painting and remember how you felt while making it? To an extent. I think it’s easier as figuration, but that’s probably obvious. It is often due to the way I handle paint, I can see a piece as maybe more aggressive with the way paint was used. Certainly if I’ve destroyed a painting over and over, that’s something I do. I’ll scrape the paint off and redo it over and over and over again, and that definitely builds emotion.

I guess my final question for you is: any words of advice? 

I think it’s just to paint how you want. I was lucky that I went to a high school where the teacher was very open to me doing whatever I wanted. And it was never, “you have to look at this painting” or “you have to look at that painter.” Trust your gut with it. Look at more art, learn the history of art, and look at artists. You can’t do art otherwise.