Sol Summers: Sunsets and sunrises in cactus-filled desert landscapes

 Sol Summers, AWAKENING, 2024, oil on canvas, 60h x 48w in (152h x 122wcm)

By NOAH BECKER November 27, 2024

Miami Beach, FL – Emerging artist Sol Summers will showcase PARHELION, a highly anticipated new body of work at the prestigious Untitled Art Fair this December 4th-8th at Art Basel Miami. This marks Summers’ debut at the fair, presented by Carl Kostyál Gallery.

Summers, who grew up surrounded by the lush greenery of the Pacific Northwest, always felt a magnetic pull toward the dry, barren wilderness of the American West. His new series offers a meditative exploration of this space—one where life endures quietly but resolutely, and where the elements seem to conspire against survival. Yet, amid the desolation, there is profound beauty. Below is our conversation for Whitehot Magazine.
 

Your paintings have a warm glow. Sunsets or sunrises in cactus-filled desert landscapes. Are these all in the same setting?
Not exactly, but they’re tied by a shared feeling rather than a specific location. The settings are imagined but grounded in the landscapes I’ve spent time in - Nevada, Arizona, the fringes of Southern California. They’re less about mapping a place and more about capturing an essence. Sunrises and sunsets feel like moments of transformation, where the desert’s starkness becomes surreal. It’s not about one place, but a composite of places and moods that resonate with me.

How do you think about color? Your colors are wonderful combinations that push the painterly quality.
Color is one of the most exciting parts of painting for me. Since I first picked up a brush, I’ve chased this instinct to push as much color as possible into a painting - sometimes recklessly. That impulse has made me a bit obsessive about materials. I think a lot about how colors interact, how they affect each other, or dissolve into one another. Greens, in particular, are endlessly fascinating to me. Evolutionarily, it makes sense - our eyes are wired to pick up on more shades of green than any other color. There are infinite ways to mix greens, and each carries its own association.

Do your paintings start with drawings, or are they imagined landscapes?
They’re a mix of both. Some begin with plein air sketches, rough studies done on-site, but they always evolve in the studio. By the time a piece is finished, it’s less a direct representation and more an interpretation - an imagined landscape shaped by memory, emotion, and instinct.

AURELIA, 2024, oil on canvas, 60 x 48 in
 

What is the symbolism (if any) of making cactus paintings?
Cacti represent resilience, solitude, and thriving in inhospitable conditions. They thrive while being ignored. That’s something I really think about a lot as a creative person - this free market of attention. The things that rise to the top in that kind of a world are generally grabby, controversial, loud. Painting often, at its best, is a quiet, meditative practice. So the cactus is an emblem of that for me, making something lasting, something that stands the test of time. Standing out, but without the need for fanfare or recognition. In a world that constantly demands visibility, the cactus is a quiet, enduring presence. That speaks to me as an artist.

Is this an ongoing project, or is this the only time you will be making this group of works?
I don’t think this is the end of it. The desert and its imagery feel like a well I’ll keep drawing from. But I’m also not interested in repeating myself. These paintings feel like the first chapter of a longer conversation - where it goes next, I’m not entirely sure yet.

Your paintings are large, very cinematic in their impact. How do you go about selecting what size your works are?
The size comes from the experience I want to create. The desert is vast, overwhelming—it surrounds you. To capture that, the paintings need to feel immersive. Smaller works feel intimate, like a journal entry, but larger pieces feel like you’re stepping into the landscape itself. The size is dictated by the mood of the piece.

What influences you? Could it be music you listen to while painting or artistic influences? Maybe movies?
I have a love-hate relationship with music. Sometimes I’ll stop listening to anything entirely for months, almost out of paranoia - a suspicion that if I forgo one sense, the others might sharpen. But at times, I approach painting like music. There’s so much visual artists can learn from how musicians build rhythm, harmony, or tension.

That said, my strongest influences are visual. Lately, I’ve been drawn back to nature—looking at insects for their intricate patterns and color palettes, studying plants, and watching atmospheric phenomena. Nature is the wellspring of all creativity; it’s hard to beat.

I’ve also been revisiting Max Ernst and Leonora Carrington recently, and Edvard Munch felt like a quiet presence while I painted this show - I almost absorbed him osmotically. Louise Bourgeois is another constant; to me, she’s one of the greatest artists ever. But my deepest connection is with the Russian realists - Repin, Kramskoy, Shishkin. Their work feels timeless, spiritual, and human in a way that’s close to my heart.

There’s always a dialogue happening between these influences—nature, music, other artists—and they all find their way into the work, sometimes consciously, sometimes not.

PARAHELION, 2024, oil on canvas, 72 x 144 in
 

What is one of the most important things you like to think about when making art?
In a word - excitement. I’m always asking myself, “What’s exciting to me? What do I like?” That feeling of excitement is what guides the direction of my work. If you’re not excited about a painting, it shows - the energy just isn’t there. When that happens, I either step back to figure out what about the subject I’m drawn to, or I shift gears and paint something else. The genuine excitement always has to be there. And if it isn’t, you have to find it.

Are you primarily a landscape painter?
I don’t know if I’d call myself primarily anything, but landscapes are definitely central to my work right now. They feel limitless in what they can express - not just about the natural world, but about the human experience. There’s a universality to landscapes that fascinates me.

What are you planning? Any interesting things coming up in 2025/26?
I mentioned Bourgeois earlier, one of the things I’ve always loved are her books. I’ve been working on some hand bound books that I’ll have a little more time to dedicate to now, I’m really excited to see where that goes, how I can push the boundaries of what a book is and can be. I’m going to also take time to pursue plein air painting more, seeing where it takes me and how being in the landscape informs the paintings. 2025/26 feels like a space to expand on the foundation I’ve built with this series. WM