Each painting becomes a breath, a suspension of time, an
invitation to slow down. These are images that don't shout —
they whisper. And in that whisper, an almost secret world
reveals itself, where everything has meaning.
Yet his quiet imagery isn’t blind to the noise of the world.
Attuned to social dissonance, Mario’s work also addresses
urban violence, the scars of war, systemic racism, and
persistent inequality. His art, however, resists becoming mere
protest. His critique emerges subtly—through symbols and
charged
atmospheres—inviting
reflection
rather
than
demanding an immediate reaction. His "Marias" series, echoing
the resilient spirit of Milton Nascimento’s song, and his tattooed
women, embodying Clarice Lispector’s longing ("Freedom is
too little for what I want"), are powerful examples of this
sensitive, layered approach.
Even when portraying the human figure, Mario resists
hyperrealism. His characters retain the mystery of matter itself
—breathing
brushstrokes,
layers
that
unfold
gradually,
atmospheres suspended between what is visible and what is
deeply felt. What he paints are not mere images—they are
states of being. Windows into the soul.
Mario Schuster makes art an act of resistance. Against a
rushed world, he offers contemplation. Against the overload of
noise, he brings silence. Against indifference, he proposes the
tenderness of a mindful gaze. And through each work, he gives
back something we may have lost: the ability to see, to feel,
and, perhaps, to transform.