In conversation with LUAP
“At the core of my work is an autobiographical exploration of themes such as nostalgia, depression, mental well-being, and interpersonal relationships.”
- LUAP
You might have come across London-based Paul Robinson (a.k.a. LUAP) at some point – you likely would have come across the Pink Bear. LUAP is a multimedia artist working in painting, photography and sculpture – his signature character – The Pink Bear – has travelled the world, experiencing the most incredible vistas but also the most extreme conditions. It has hiked up mountains, swam in landfill, and wandered the desert. It has ridden on horseback through Mongolia with wild golden eagles. His traditional practice finds a counterpart in his thirst for adventure, as an artist who embraces uncertainty, immersing himself in extreme environmental settings and pushing the limits of endurance to improve his well-being whilst he captures his striking photographs.
At the same time, LUAP has had numerous solo shows throughout London, and this year was even displayed in the windows of the iconic Fortnum & Mason, for which he was tasked with responding to the word "Love" as the theme, something that he has explored as a subject for the narrative in many of his pieces.
Recently, he exhibited The Pink Bear Pavilion for the first time, in a collaboration with the University of Europe for Applied Sciences (UE), at the Altonaler Balkon in Hamburg. A four-metre-tall, walk-in installation fabricated using recycled plastics, The Pink Bear Pavilion is LUAP's largest sculpture to date and pays homage to the artist’s recurring motif of a pink bear. The Pink Bear Pavilion – which will be heading to other cities in future – expands on the artist’s continued exploration of his Pink Bear creation – a recurring motif throughout his paintings, photography, performance and murals in which lie global themes that delve into many universal facets of humanity: mental well-being, environmental awareness and interpersonal relationships. This multifaceted creation encompasses all three dimensions. In his wider practice, LUAP draws inspiration from his own experiences, and by painting from his own photography, he layers abstraction and hyperrealism to dynamically render his unique perception of the world. We took a deep dive into LUAP’s inspirations and influences, and hear more about his ever-evolving practice…
How did you begin your journey into art?
My love for creating things began in my childhood, though I can’t pinpoint exactly when. From a young age, I was always encouraged to explore my creativity. I remember I loved playing with Lego. I loved that it allowed me to build anything, not just what was depicted on the box. It was a gateway to a world of imagination.
I think the toys we are given as children can help set the foundations for our future. I remember mine were always about mental growth and development, whether that was intentional or not. Christmas and birthdays were filled with gifts like paint-by-numbers sets, science kits, magic sets, watercolours, and pencil crayons. Of course, I also had my fair share of action figures like He-Man, She-Ra, Thundercats, and even a green My Little Pony with pink hair. Each of these toys, in their own way, contributed to nurturing my creativity and curiosity, shaping the path I would eventually follow as an artist.
Painting excited me even more than drawing. The fluidity and freedom of paint felt more creative, less constrained than the precision of pencils, which always seemed too serious as a child. Creating things felt natural and fundamental to me, and I was constantly driven by a desire to push the boundaries.
For me, art has always been intertwined with storytelling. It’s not just about the act of creation, though I believe it’s crucial for artists to be hands-on rather than merely directing. The storytelling aspect of art is something we learn in childhood, through the narratives we create with our toys and the stories we tell through our early paintings. Even if it's about a sad cat sitting on a dirty mat. There is an honesty in those childhood stories that remains integral to my artistic expression today.
Did you grow up in a creative environment?
I didn't grow up in a traditionally creative environment, as no one in my family worked in the creative industry. Coming from a working-class background, the focus was on practicalities like putting food on the table rather than following artistic dreams. However, creativity thrived in our spare time.
My dad was particularly talented; he painted watercolours, could draw photorealistically, and was an avid gardener. He also had a knack for woodworking—he once made me a Thomas the Tank Engine bed that looked even better than the ones you could buy in stores. My mum expressed her creativity through cooking and baking, while my nanna was an avid knitter, creating everything from blankets to sweaters. My grandad also enjoyed painting watercolours. Although he struggled a bit with perspective, his enthusiasm was inspiring. I fondly remember a trip to Scotland with him in my late teens. He was originally supposed to go with my nanna, but after she passed away, I went instead. We painted various picturesque scenes around the Outer Hebrides, and I even sold my first watercolour for £20. My auntie was always making elaborate curtains that looked like they belonged in a mansion.
Creativity was in our family’s DNA and was always encouraged, though it was balanced with a practical approach to education. My family emphasised doing well in all subjects, offering me a "fall back option" so I could ensure a stable income.
I was never discouraged from being creative. As a teenager, I painted abstract murals on my bedroom walls, and my parents even helped me prepare the walls. I always aimed for larger projects. If we had to draw a poster at school, I wanted to paint an entire wall. Thankfully, my teachers supported this ambition, allowing me to paint my first mural in Year 5.
Growing up, my passion for art was nurtured both at home and school, providing a solid foundation for my creative journey.
Did you study in a conventional art college?
Yes, I did attend a conventional art college. However, the approach to teaching there was quite different from what one might expect. Traditional skills weren't the main focus; instead, we were encouraged to experiment and find our own artistic paths. The structure was more about self-directed learning, with weekly catch-ups with tutors to guide our progress.
In the first year, we participated in workshops that provided a taste of various practices, such as sculpture, photography, and digital media. This broad exposure allowed us to explore different mediums and techniques, helping us discover our unique creative voices.
Can you speak a little about your career trajectory to date? We were interested to hear about your background in advertising.
As I mentioned earlier, I came from a working-class background, which meant I needed to support myself financially from a young age. My journey began at university, where I worked in a camera shop to help pay my way. This job also allowed me to pick up bargain second-hand Nikon equipment with my staff discount.
In 2005, I moved to London, needing a job to cover my £300-a-month rent. I transferred to a London camera store, but I quit by lunchtime on my first day, realising that this path wouldn't lead to success in my art career. I returned to my Hackney Wick warehouse (it was a shit hole then), picked up the Yellow Pages, and started thinking about what I could do to make a name for myself in the art world—something I had no clue how to achieve. Being very shy and not social, I naively believed that practising painting at home would somehow lead to my discovery.
While waiting for that moment, I found a company called “Delete” after a bit of searching in the Yellow Pages. It was a graphic design agency working on flyers for all the clubs in London. I was skilled in Photoshop having been practising since I was 16, so I gave them a call and landed a job as a junior designer, earning £50 a day for three days a week. Living on £600 a month (£7200 a year) in London was tough, but it was a start. I worked here for a year.
Over the next 15 years, I worked both in-house and at some of the best creative agencies in London, handling projects for some of the biggest brands on the planet in tech, charity, and finance. My career progressed until I became a global creative director, earning a six-figure salary with a bonus and all the other perks. Despite what many would consider a dream job and salary, I felt something was eating me up inside, which probably contributed to my severe depression during this period. All I ever wanted to do was create my art, not run a global team of designers and creatives, and it was never about the money.
During those 15 years, I was essentially working two jobs. From 9 am to 6 pm, I dedicated myself to my day job. After an hour at the gym and cooking for myself, I'd head to the studio from 8 pm until 1 am. I repeated this gruelling schedule daily, tirelessly pursuing my passion for art alongside my career.
In 2020, amidst the chaos of the pandemic, I decided to quit my job and pursue my dream of being an artist full-time and finally just be myself. It was a bold move, but it's something I've been passionately dedicated to ever since. It has not been easy, but I can say that I have done it all on my own.
What is your daily routine / do you have any studio rituals?
My daily routine is quite structured, which helps me stay focused and productive. I get up at 8 am, start my day with a coffee, and then go through my emails. After that, I head to the gym for a workout, followed by a shower and breakfast. By 11 am, I'm in the studio, where I work until 6 pm, though some days I lose track of time. In the evening, I come home, cook dinner, and watch films. Having a consistent routine allows me to channel my energy into my art, ensuring that I'm always moving forward and staying productive. It also helps keep my depression at bay.
However, some days I find myself sitting at my computer screen editing photos, thinking only 15 minutes have gone by, but when I look at the clock, it's actually been 5 hours and I’ve forgotten to eat. Other days, when I'm feeling mentally lost, I go for long cycles along the canals of London. Getting away for even a few hours really helps me reset.
To create the photographic sources for my paintings, I have travelled all over the world, going on long expeditions to remote places and battling harsh environments. This adventurous aspect of my process is crucial to capturing the unique perspectives that inspire my work.
Can you tell us a bit about what themes and subjects inspire you creatively?
At the core of my work is an autobiographical exploration of themes such as nostalgia, depression, mental well-being, and interpersonal relationships. My art encapsulates the spectrum of human emotions, embodying both aspirations and anxieties. Drawing inspiration from my own experiences, I communicate through storytelling within the works, often set in natural environments, as environmental awareness is important to me. My art navigates between the surreal, the envisioned, and the corporeal.
The Pink Bear is not intended to be a figure like a Disney character; instead, it serves as a mask—a full-figure one. The details of the gloves and bodysuit are always left as tell-tale signs. I've always been intrigued by the masks we wear in our daily lives, changing them without even realising it and hiding what lies beneath. Many people spend their entire lives pretending to be someone they are not. I know I used to, and it takes its toll.
This traditional practice finds a counterpart in my thirst for adventure, as I embrace uncertainty and immerse myself in extreme environmental settings. By pushing the limits of endurance, I improve my well-being while capturing photographs that are integrated into my work.
Has this changed over the years or is there a constant?
I’d say the themes remain the same because they revolve around life and connection. However, the narratives within the work have evolved, as my art is fundamentally autobiographical. As I grow and change, so do the stories I tell through my work.
The body of work I am currently working on in my studio extends beyond myself and my experiences and instead looks at other people. While my previous works have been deeply autobiographical, this new series aims to explore the lives and stories of others, adding a broader perspective to my themes of life and connection.
When did you start creating work under the name ‘LUAP’?
I started creating work under the name ‘LUAP’ around 2015. However, the name had been in my mind since childhood. It originated from a customised ‘Smarties’ book I had, where it was the answer to a riddle to defeat a monster. This felt particularly poignant as I was battling my own monster—depression.
And when did the Pink Bear become such an important feature in your life and art?
The significance of "The Pink Bear" in my life and art emerged from a profound sense of loneliness. The Pink Bear is a cherished remnant of my childhood, resurrected through cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT). This figure transformed into a vessel for journeys of revelation and exploration, embodying a spectrum of human experiences and symbolising aspirations and anxieties. The bear navigates the surreal, the imagined, and the tangible.
The journey began with loneliness, leading to a series called Lone Soldiers (2008-2011). This series featured a single tree photographed in diverse environments, superimposed on wallpaper evoking my childhood. It reflected my mood—drifting, guarded, isolated—a solitary tree. Disconnected from those around me, I struggled to communicate and experienced dissociative disorder. As life happened and love came and went, my depression deepened, along with the vast disconnect. CBT became my lifeline, a bridge to connection.
With my therapist, we explored trees as I envisioned them. She asked me to draw a tree to represent my emotions or people in my life. In another session, I visualised and drew the tree I wanted to be. The tree I was and the tree I aspired to be were polar opposites. Shedding my negativity and embracing positivity, my branches spread and my leaves sprouted. I grew a bridge to connection, enabled by nature.
Enter The Pink Bear. Like the wallpaper, I invoked the carefree, tender childhood memory of a picture with my mum, dad, and brother, with a giant neon pink bear stoically among us. This memory brings a smile to my face and takes me to a place of love and safety. When I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, I would turn to the bear. The bear represents the feeling of not accepting yourself in front of others, internalising it all, and disconnecting to be someone you're not. The Pink Bear became the vehicle with which I crossed the bridge to the connection nature had gifted me.
How did The Pink Bear Pavilion come to be? What has the process of creating it been like?
The idea for the Pink Bear Pavilion came to me one day as I was working at my table, making smaller sculptures. I had a 12-inch costume for an action figure next to my full-sized costume head, and it suddenly hit me: "What if I could scale this up to human-sized proportions?" This thought sparked the concept of creating an immersive space where people could interact with The Pink Bear and explore the themes in my work more deeply.
The pavilion is a physical representation of the journey The Pink Bear symbolises—a place for introspection, connection, and transformation. We often spend a lot of time looking outward, observing others, and comparing our lives to theirs, which can create unrest and insecurity. The pavilion encourages visitors to look inward, to examine their own thoughts and emotions. By doing so, they can gain a better understanding of themselves and find balance.
The process of creating The Pink Bear Pavilion has been both challenging and rewarding. It wasn't just about making a larger version of a small sculpture; it was about designing an environment that would encourage people to reflect and connect. Every detail, from the materials to the layout, was carefully planned to create a space that fosters introspection. This journey, from a simple idea to a fully realised immersive experience, has shown me the power of creativity and the importance of looking within to find clarity and peace. It was amazing to work with the University of Europe for applied Sciences (UE), who installed it in Hamburg earlier this year, and with who I’ll be touring it to other cities in future! UE also as part of this have granted of 17 'LUAP Pink Bear Scholarships'. Two of these are full scholarships, and the overall fund for the grant is a staggering €250,000.
I should also mention the sustainable methods taken in the fabrication of the Pavilion – I worked with Nagami, CH2O, and Exarchitects to create it from 2500 kg of recycled plastic, FSC-certified timber and cutting-edge 3D printing technology.
What was the public response to it in Hamburg? Will it be making another showing?
People loved the sculpture. It stopped them in their daily life and made them pause for a moment. People of all ages interacted with it. It wasn't just the children who went up to the bear; adults and retirees would approach and touch the bear on the nose too. The sculpture became a focal point, drawing everyone in and encouraging them to connect with it in their own way
Is The Pink bear Pavilion your largest work to date…and how large would you go?
The Pink Bear Pavilion is indeed my largest work to date, but I envision going even larger. I'd love to create a full bear sculpture bigger than an oak tree. Imagine seeing it peeking out from the top of a forest, and as you approach, it's like discovering a giant in a clearing. That would be truly magical.
I recently visited Yorkshire Sculpture Park, which features works of this scale. I last visited the park as a child while studying for my GCSEs. It would be an ideal location for a larger project, or perhaps Hampstead Heath. There’s something incredibly powerful about a vibrant, colossal figure emerging from the shadows. This resonates deeply as a metaphor for battling depression—finding that burst of light and colour amidst the darkness. It symbolises hope and the promise of emerging stronger on the other side of a depressive cycle.
Is there anywhere people can view your work either currently or in the future?
I am just finishing up a body of work that I have been developing over the past three years and I am excited to showcase it soon.
Currently, my work is on display at several of the "Daisy Green Collection" restaurants around London. These venues feature a fantastic collection of contemporary artists, including some of my largest pieces. Their newest location is the National Portrait Gallery, but if you want to see one of my favourite works, head to the Colney Room off Regent Street.
What would be your dream project?
My dream project would be to create a short documentary featuring The Pink Bear in the mountains, specifically taking it to K2 base camp. An important aspect of my work is the process behind its creation. Many people may not realise the extreme lengths I’ve gone to in order to create my art, battling harsh temperatures and pushing my limits across frozen landscapes and the driest deserts on Earth. This documentary would not only showcase those efforts but also inspire people to push themselves and fight their internal battles when everything feels lost. It would be about showing that perseverance and determination can lead to achieving what you truly want.
And a quick fire 5:
Any upcoming projects of note that you can discuss?
I’ve been working on a series of portraits with The Pink Bear over the last few years, and I'm excited to share them soon.
What have been the most rewarding moments of your career thus far?
Getting up each day and getting to call myself an artist. I think that is the most rewarding part.
What’s the best advice you have ever received?
Get to the end and then start again.
Who are you outside of the ‘office’?
I’m me all the time now, thankfully. I used to wear different hats when meeting different people, especially during my time in advertising.
What do you love about London?
The variety of people. It's so diverse and interesting. The city is shaped by all the different characters that call it home.
Website: luapstudios.co.uk
Instagram: @luap