Music and art share a symbiotic relationship. One explains a feeling, while the other reveals a thought. They both, in some way, give form to that which cannot be explained. The art of Landon Metz operates much in this way — rhythms and images that appear entirely abstract, yet innately familiar.

Born in Arizona, Metz knew early on he wanted to be an artist as soon as he stepped foot in New York. Like many, however, his path was far from linear and he had to surrender himself to the ebbs and flows that come with living in any big city. This willingness to improvise seeps back into his work, which can be defined as large abstract shapes that are often painted across several canvases, resulting in lyrical compositions that contemplate the nature of being.

In recent years, Metz has shown in a number of solo exhibitions around the world, including von Bartha Copenhagen in 2022, as well as Rome’s Museo Pietro Canonica in 2018. His earlier studies largely featured single color patterns, either floating or overlaid across a series of raw canvases. His most recent paintings have opted to include a gradient of hues and shapes, some which veer towards figuration, as Metz simultaneously dabbles into music, as well.

Reminiscent of Brian Eno, Jan Jelinek and Yumiko Morioka, Metz produces ambient beats that would overlay well in a film score. Released on Sensitive Records, his debut album, Six Days at the Orange House, is pensive and thought-provoking — a fitting complement to work he creates in paint.

“Every aspect of my practice ultimately ends up moving in unison regardless of medium,” he tells Hypeart, “not necessarily by my own volition but something that feels much more akin to fate.”

For the latest Hypeart Visits, we caught up with the emerging artist and beat-maker to understand his approach to both and how to find your own rhythm amidst the flux of a changing world.

Can you take us back to your early days and how you got started?

I was born in Arizona and spent my formative years there playing music and hanging out in the desert and in the small punk venues surrounding Phoenix. I lived in Vancouver for a little while after high school before moving to Los Angeles and ultimately landing in New York City as my forever home.

As you’re entirely self-taught, who were the early artists or influences that steered you to pursue art as a career? How did you push yourself through the steep learning curve that is both the practice and business of art?

I actually was in art school in LA for a bit but I dropped out. I was really into avant-garde composition and film at that time. I was watching all these 16mm film prints of works from artists in New York and their scene felt familiar to me. I grew up in a scene. The art and music scene had a lot of crossover in NYC and it felt magnetic. I came to visit New York for the first time in my early twenties and was like, f*ck, I have to be here. I dropped out of school and just moved here straight away to be an artist.

Once I got to NYC, I was basically just around. When I wasn’t in the studio I was at shows and hanging out with friends. I made the work, I read, I wrote, and went for walks. There was a lot of trial and error, but this was my education. I really love New York and feel indebted to it. I showed up for my practice everyday and the city gave back to me.

“…something that feels much more akin to fate.”

Have you always had this inclination for abstract art? How did it develop?

I actually feel like my language found me more than I found it, and it continues to evolve. To define it, would contain and blunt the power of its infinite nature. My practice is to live my life in such a way that I’m open to telling the stories that find me as their vessel—to make myself available to receive the work and have the courage to share it. This process repeats itself over and over again. It’s a daily practice.

If you could, how would you describe your work?

LOVE.

Time is also a key motif you explore…

A big part of my inquiry with the dye works is meditating on the notion of infinity. It’s pretty impossible for us to grasp the vastness of infinitude with our humble human minds but I hope these works can create an experience that at least points towards that ineffable quality of the infinite.

My music deals with time in a more digestible way because it spans time in a literal sense. Painting has a certain presence to it since we experience it in an instant. I try to bring this sense of presence to my musical compositions as well.

Every aspect of my practice ultimately ends up moving in unison regardless of medium, not necessarily by my own volition but something that feels much more akin to fate.

“I want to meet life with a curious and open heart.”

How has the transition been from Arizona to New York City? Two entirely different worlds.

I feel spiritually connected to both Arizona and New York, more than anywhere else in the world. What I mean by “spiritual” is there’s a sense of oneness in these places that makes me feel connected to something larger than myself. Arizona gave me wings and New York taught me how to fly.

Can you further explain your relationship to silence?

I love silence. Silence, emptiness, space, nothingness, the abyss—this is the foundation of my practice. There’s a perfection to this state that both precedes and follows life. Bringing a work into existence means extracting out of this space while still maintaining it as its vital essence.

Your work is constantly in dialogue with the ecosystem that surrounds it. How did this develop?

Interconnection is another really important part of the narrative of my work. Wherever possible, I try to acknowledge this intuitively when the opportunity arises. I really hope to allow the work to reveal itself to me. More than creating an endpoint to strive towards, I see my practice as a way of just showing up for life and seeing what happens. I want to meet life with a curious and open heart.

Your work is meticulous, yet seemingly effortless. What advice would you give for an aspiring artist?

My advice is to know and love yourself. Give yourself the space to discover who you truly are, to feel whatever it is that you may feel, and the grace and forgiveness necessary to heal and grow. To exist is to be imperfect, but you’re so beautiful and you deserve so much love. If you can arrive at this place of genuine self-love, everything you do will have the grace of a leaf in the wind.

Are there any exhibitions or projects you’d like to share in the near future?

My debut album Six Days At The Orange House just came out and is available for streaming on all platforms. There will be a special edition vinyl pressing released this fall with an event in NYC to follow. I also have two solo exhibitions coming up this year: at Gana in Seoul and Von Bartha in Basel.

And a lot more news in the year to follow. Much love!

Studio photography courtesy of Keith Estiler for Hypeart. Artwork courtesy of Landon Metz.