Sofia Basto Riousse paints, embroiders, and illustrates—sometimes all at once. Swapping her law practice for a career in the arts, her work comes to life from the Dubai nook she has baptized Manigua Studio. “Manigua,” alluding to her native Colombia’s muddy and entangled landscapes, is the living-and-breathing project through which Sofia blends with greenery and people-watches between the Magdalena River, France, Singapore, and the Gulf.
Once a muralist and calligraphy aficionada, today Sofia (and Manigua) creates with nature as her most reliable resource, be it for pigments, compositions, or to accommodate a nostalgia nestled between the Andes mountains and the Amazon.
Sofia Basto Riousse has exhibited in Dubai, Pitalito, Ras Al Khaimah, and online. Her daily coffee is black, and her gardens are always colorful.
Join us in this interview as Sofia shares her journey, inspirations, and the creative process behind her vibrant works.
Can you tell us about your journey from Colombia to the UAE and how it has influenced your artistic career?
Undoubtedly, each place impacts artists in various ways.
From an aesthetic point of view, the color palettes of everyday life are unique in each place –markets do not have the same colors everywhere (supermarkets do, but local markets are a different case). The lighting is different at various latitudes, as is the cloudiness… in my eyes, all of this makes each place have a particular light and palette.
As humans, places influence us with states of mind. Personal experiences inform whether the images in our minds become memories worth keeping or not, into memories that will materialize into a work of art, or in a desire to seek more, to return, to nurture ourselves with those sensations and the drive to create.
Your artwork often reflects a deep connection to nature. How do you incorporate elements of both Colombian and Middle Eastern landscapes into your pieces?
So rather than mixing elements from Colombian and Middle Eastern landscapes, I live in a constant search for common elements that speak to people from everywhere. I am thrilled by nature’s ability to belong in different landscapes. Belonging and adaptability are also forms of existing in social settings in the UAE, where so many cultures mix. When we relate to each other, we pursue common grounds to connect. Many of my works are born to evoke a sense of familiarity in the viewer.
These two pieces, currently in Madrid, are connected by the curiosity I felt for the Royal Botanical Expedition of the New Kingdom of Granada (this was the name for Colombia and other adjacent countries during colonial times). This expedition was initiated by José Celestino Mutis in 1783 and concluded in 1816.
When I was in secondary school, I discovered a very old book about this expedition in my school library. The illustrations in this book were mostly made with pigments derived from the plants described there. The size of this book stood out compared to most of the books found there.
I wanted to find this edition again but could not locate it. To somehow exorcize this desire to see those images in an enlarged size and reinterpret them, I created ‘Candelabra Aloe’ with some embroidered stitches, which also remind me of school and the education with the nuns who taught us to embroider from a very young age. And due to the impossibility of finding the complete catalog, I let my imagination run wild, mixing it with real elements, and thus the second painting ‘Real and Imaginary Botany’ was born
I have a painting at home that I created some time ago and keep with special care. In it, I depicted a sunset in the tropics. I find it amusing to ask visitors who admire it where they think it is. The answers range from Sri Lanka to Brazil; each person feels that it represents a place that they know, a geography they identify with. Finding that common ground in a landscape that feels familiar makes me think of geography as a universal value, in how we find shared identity values from there, making us unique but also bringing us closer together.
This project came into my life at a time in which I was exploring my landscape line. I was asking myself many questions about what tropical ecosystems look like from here, the feeling of nostalgia they imprint on us. I was equally wondering whether there is a romanticized vision around “the tropical” given that we come from there, have experienced something unforgettable there, vacationed there, or even seen it as an idealized place. All these reflections were made in contrast to the desert landscape that surrounds me. Somehow, the beauty of the dunes, the contrast of their colors with the green of the mountains and the tropical jungle, helped me reflect from afar, to relive a green past that I carry within.
Almacén reminded me that I am planted in sand and that sand is ever-changing. Almacén helped me to retrospectively consider what I had ‘stored’ up to that point and, above all, to see what path I wanted to follow from that moment onwards.
Connecting with other artists is crucial to overcoming various challenges that arise in artistic practice, both logistical and those that come as hesitations. Connecting, talking, sharing, and creating community are some of the most helpful tools for growth, for not feeling alone on the journey, and for building support networks to showcase what we do, generate new ideas, and convey the importance of creative work.
How do you see the role of contemporary art in fostering cross-cultural dialogues between Latin America and the Middle East?
I had started working with a very surrealistic style which I set aside this year in favor of leaning towards a more landscape-oriented approach. Nevertheless, I hope to return to the arms of surrealism and even more: explore the depths of abstract art, which would be completely experimental. I’m studying its foundations, absorbing visual material… I have some ideas, strongly inclined towards Peranakan aesthetics, eager to evoke my years in Southeast Asia. We shall see how it turns out.
How do you stay connected to your Colombian roots while living and working in the UAE, and how does this influence your art?
To connect with my roots, I attempt to be physically present by traveling home whenever possible. I go to nurture myself, take many photos, hike in the mountains, in the jungle, to see firsthand what is happening there, to try to feel how life continues to be there.
Another method, and the most important one for me, is preserving the language and traditions (the ones I cherish), passing them on, bequeathing them to my daughters. Despite not being born or having lived there, they feel immensely Colombian. In this case, I feel like a tree that must nourish its roots to ensure its fruits.
The love for nature and its natural consequence, ecological consciousness, are values that I emphasize in the education I give to my daughters. It’s something that is in the DNA of those who are born among mountains or in landscapes of unique beauty, wherever in the world that may be. Humans are sensitive to beauty, some more than others, but all of us are. It’s very difficult to remain indifferent to the spectacle of nature, even if we don’t consciously recognize its effect on us—it’s always there. Undoubtedly, the botanical element in my artworks comes from there, from the greens that surrounded me since childhood.
In tandem, I try not to lose sight of local politics, and seek to connect with artists in situ, seizing every opportunity to work on artistic projects as opportunities to reconnect with the public and institutions there. Recently, this was the case with my exhibition ‘Earthly Poem for a Forgotten Place,’ which incidentally was inspired by ‘La Vorágine,’ a classic of Colombian literature celebrating its centenary this year. All the artworks were created in the Emirates, yet they depict landscapes that people in Colombia recognized immediately, because we’re speaking the same geographic language.