Q&A with Robert Nava

How often do you draw, and what role does  it play within your artistic practice?

I draw almost daily and it functions as a ritual or exercise. When it’s in my sketchbook, it’s almost like stretching before sprinting.  

Less is at stake, and it’s a more portable, personal space where more freedom can happen.

What can drawings express that painting, text, or sculpture cannot?

I cannot say as much for sculpture as it is more in the three dimensional realm. Writing and drawing, I think, share their essence in the line.

And I think that the line itself, if done by hand, is a very honest form of mark making. It will show whether you are confident or nervous, if you pause or not, it can be a record of time, whether speed or slowness is happening within you. 

How do you think about the physical aspect of drawing within our mostly digital culture?

For the moment, I think its physicality keeps us human. When something is done directly by hand, that indexical record feels less machine‑like.

Asger Jorn wrote that, “every line drawn freely  is a protest against control.” What forms of control are you resisting when you draw?

That is a beautiful sentence. What comes to mind for me are the M&M’s Minis commercials, where they can’t be contained and fly around all over the place. They are very playful and kind of break the rules.

How has your approach to drawing changed  over time, and how do you keep a childlike  sense of discovery in your work today?

That was, and still is, a big part of my ongoing practice. I think that most people pick up the crayon, pencil, or  pen before anything.

I began drawing technically and academically, when I was younger. I was  self taught from cartoons on the back of cereal boxes, and a little later from people and objects in everyday life. 

Maybe not exactly photorealistic, but I could get pretty close by age twelve. By high school “you could draw, and we’re a badass if you were able to do it.”

But in undergrad efter seeing Goya, Delacroix, and Munch’s drawings in person, and realizing tat art and technical skill were no longer needed as a form of record since the invention of the camera. I looked at those and thought I no longer have anything meaningful to say in that voice.

So I went in the complete opposite direction, trying to get back to a place of childhood: naturally, lesser motor skills, but also a much more honest place than I was to continue down a photorealistic path, just for the sake of copying. The human and soulful aspects that speak the most, I think, are the areas that are not perfect.

We forget that place pretty early on, but for me it’s a place with more room for imagination. 

Robert Nava is currently a part of Gardeners, a group exhibition with Asger Jorn, Robert Nava, Misaki Kawai, Joe Bradley, Eddie Martinez and Tal R
Eighteen | January 23 – March 7, 2026 

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