Fado and the Face of Resilience
Letters Gus Romano Letters Gus Romano

Fado and the Face of Resilience

Instead of discouraging me, each rejection fuels me to look closer, to understand art in a deeper way. What could feel like an ending becomes a beginning—another chance to paint, to learn, and to grow into the artist I want to be.

Read More
Painting the Weight of a Nation
Pintura de retrato Gus Romano Pintura de retrato Gus Romano

Painting the Weight of a Nation

This portrait of President Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa marks a turning point in my artistic journey — a painting born not from commission, but from conviction. It reflects on leadership, silence, and the weight of thought, as I begin building a collection of meaningful, deeply human Portuguese portraits.

Read More
Gus vs Gustavo Romano: The Dual Identity of an Artist in the Modern World
Gus Romano Gus Romano

Gus vs Gustavo Romano: The Dual Identity of an Artist in the Modern World

In this captivating oil painting self-portrait, Gus Romano the artist captures a profound exploration of identity and introspection. Through a masterful use of color and texture, the canvas reveals the intricacies of the artist's emotions and experiences. The subject's gaze is both inviting and contemplative, drawing viewers into a dialogue about self-perception and the passage of time. By blending realism with subtle abstraction, the artist invites a deeper understanding of the complexities that shape individual narratives. Whether seen as a reflection of personal evolution or a broader commentary on the human experience, this self-portrait stands as a testament to the enduring power of self-exploration in art. The artist remains unnamed, allowing for a more universal connection to the work and its themes.

Read More

Letters of Gus Romano

Since July 2025, I have been writing what I call my Letters. They are not essays, nor polished reflections, but fragments of my inner life as an artist — thoughts written in the raw, as if to a friend, like Van Gogh once wrote to his brother Theo.

I began these Letters because I realized painting alone cannot hold all that I feel. Sometimes the silence of the studio needs words. In them, I write about doubt, joy, fear, inspiration, exhaustion, and the fragile balance between my work as an artist and my life outside it.

The Letters are dated, imperfect, and deliberately personal. They are not meant to be instructions or manifestos. They are simply traces — records of what it means to search for truth in painting in the 21st century.

Whether anyone reads them now is less important than the fact that they exist. One day, perhaps, they will help explain not only my art, but also the time I lived in, and the questions that guided me.