• Posted on

Original Geometric Art: Interview with Shilo Ratner

Geometric Painter Shilo Ratner artist interview with Embrace Creatives

Artist Interview: Shilo Ratner

I'm so grateful to have been interviewed by Embrace Creatives. Here's a look at our conversation about my artistic practice, influences, and the philosophy behind my geometric abstract paintings.

Artist Interview: Shilo Ratner

Embrace Creatives recently featured me in their artist interview series, exploring the intersection of form, color, and emotion through geometric compositions. The conversation delved into my creative process, artistic influences, and the philosophy that guides my work as a contemporary geometric abstract artist.

We'd like to introduce you to Shilo Ratner, a New York Metro-based artist who explores the intersection of form, color, and emotion through geometric compositions to evoke a sense of tranquility and contemplation.

Artist Shilo Ratner in studio creating geometric abstract paintings
Artist Shilo Ratner in her studio

A Look Inside the Artist's Studio

The interview offers an intimate look at my creative practice, from the inspiration behind my geometric abstract paintings to the artists who have shaped my artistic vision. Here are some highlights from our conversation:

What Inspires You to Make Art?

"I've always been drawn to the simplicity and complexity of geometric shapes. Geometric abstraction allows me to explore the fundamental building blocks of visual language. It's a way to strip away the superfluous and focus on the essence of form and color.

I find inspiration in everything from the natural world to architecture. Whether it's the asymmetry of a mountainscape or the gridlines of a city, there's always something to spark my imagination.

Ultimately, for me, geometric abstraction is a way to connect with the world on a deep level. It's a form of meditation, a way to find peace and clarity amidst the chaos of everyday life."

Who or What Influences Your Style?

"Many artists who came before me have significantly influenced my artistic journey:

Hilma af Klint's mystical and symbolic paintings, filled with geometric forms and celestial imagery, have opened my eyes to the spiritual dimensions of abstract art.

Agnes Martin's serene and minimalist canvases, characterized by subtle variations in tone and texture, have taught me the importance of simplicity and restraint.

I'm also inspired by the bold and colorful works of Sonia Delaunay. Her dynamic compositions, often featuring interlocking shapes and vibrant hues, have helped me to experiment with different color palettes and textures.

These artists have shown me that geometric abstraction is not just a style, but a language that can be used to express complex ideas and emotions. Their work continues to inspire me to push the boundaries of my practice and to explore the endless possibilities of this fascinating art form."

On Creating Calm in Chaotic Times

"While easily interpreted as geometric abstract landscape paintings, I hope that the intensity of my compositions demands unorthodox attention from the viewer to invest in a centered and calm vision within the chaotic times of our present day."

The Philosophy Behind the Work

My approach to geometric abstract art is rooted in the belief that art can serve as a refuge, a space for contemplation and calm in an increasingly chaotic world. Through carefully composed geometric forms and thoughtful color relationships, I create paintings that invite viewers to slow down and engage with the work on a deeper level. I've written about this philosophy in depth in Artist Philosophy: Minimalist Landscape Art, which covers how nature, simplicity, and openness shape every decision I make in the studio.

The geometric landscape paintings I create are not literal representations of place, but rather distillations of experience, memories of mountains, coastlines, and horizons translated into abstract visual language.

Artistic Influences: A Legacy of Abstraction

The artists I mentioned in the interview, Hilma af Klint, Agnes Martin, and Sonia Delaunay, represent different approaches to geometric abstraction, and each has contributed to my understanding of what this art form can achieve.

One influence I didn't mention in the interview but who is equally central to my practice is Josef Albers, whose lifelong study of color interaction fundamentally changed how I see and use color. His principle that color is never fixed but always relational is something I return to constantly in the studio. I wrote about that influence in detail in How Josef Albers Shaped the Way I See Color.

Hilma af Klint (1862-1944) was a Swedish artist and mystic whose abstract paintings predated the work of Kandinsky and Mondrian. Her geometric compositions explored spiritual and metaphysical themes, demonstrating that abstraction could be a vehicle for profound ideas.

Agnes Martin (1912-2004) was an American abstract painter known for her minimalist grids and subtle color fields. Her work embodies restraint, precision, and a meditative quality that continues to influence contemporary abstract artists.

Sonia Delaunay (1885-1979) was a Ukrainian-French artist who pioneered the use of bold color and geometric forms. Her dynamic compositions and innovative use of color theory expanded the possibilities of geometric abstraction.

Studio Practice

Working from my studio, I create geometric abstract paintings that explore the relationship between form, color, and emotion. The studio is where experimentation happens, where ideas develop, and where the careful balance of composition comes together.

My process involves layering, refining, and responding to the painting as it develops, allowing intuition to guide geometric decisions while maintaining the precision that defines the work.

Read the Full Interview

The complete interview on Embrace Creatives goes deeper into my artistic practice, creative process, and the ideas that drive my work. It's a comprehensive look at what it means to be a contemporary geometric abstract artist working today.

Explore Geometric Abstract Paintings

If you're drawn to geometric abstract art that explores form, color, and emotion, I invite you to explore my collection. Each painting is created with the same dedication to craft and contemplation discussed in the interview. If you're thinking about acquiring original work, the complete guide to collecting geometric abstract art covers everything from evaluating an artist's practice to caring for a piece over time.

View Geometric Abstract Paintings Collection

Follow along on Instagram for studio updates and behind-the-scenes glimpses of the creative process.

Read Also

See all Shilo Ratner Art Studio & Exhibition Updates
Full Moon Mountain, a 30x30 geometric abstract painting by Shilo Ratner, featuring a luminous moon above a structured mountain landscape in blue and white
Geometric Art for a Home Office: How Structure and Color Shape the Way You Work
The home office has become one of the most considered rooms in the house. It's where focus meets creativity, and where long hours demand an environment that supports both. Art plays a larger role in that environment than most people realize, and geometric abstract art, with its structure, rhythm, and disciplined use of color, is especially well suited to the space.
Three geometric abstract mountain paintings by Shilo Ratner, featuring bold color and structured form
The Psychology of Color in Art
The Psychology of Color in Art I've been thinking a lot lately about how color functions almost independently from subject matter in painting. Long before we recognize an object, a horizon line, or a figure, we react emotionally to color relationships. That reaction is immediate and psychological. It's one of the reasons I continue returning to artists like Josef Albers and Pierre Bonnard. Their work reminds me that color itself can become the structure, emotion, and atmosphere of a painting. Albers approached color almost scientifically. His studies explored how colors change depending on what surrounds them, how one color can appear completely different when placed beside another. A muted gray can suddenly become luminous. A soft blue can feel cold against one tone and electric against another. What fascinates me about Albers is that he proved color is never fixed. It's relational. Psychological. Unstable in the most beautiful way. Bonnard approached color differently, but with just as much intensity. His paintings dissolve observation into atmosphere. The color combinations are often unexpected: acidic yellows against lavender shadows, saturated oranges beside pale violets, strange greens woven into interiors and skin tones. Yet somehow the paintings feel emotionally true. That balance between dissonance and harmony is something I think about constantly in my own work. When I'm painting water, marshes, or coastal spaces, I'm rarely interested in reproducing literal color. I'm more interested in creating a sensation through color interaction. Sometimes that means pushing warmth into areas that should technically feel cool, or allowing deep ultramarines to sit beside softened blush tones because the tension between those colors creates emotional movement. I think that's where painting becomes less about documentation and more about perception. Certain color combinations can create stillness while others create vibration. A muted blue-gray beside a sharp coral can suddenly make a painting feel alive. Soft tonal shifts can create quietness and distance. Saturation can create physical energy. I notice this especially when layering paint. Often the most important decisions happen when I stop thinking about "local color" entirely and start thinking about temperature, contrast, memory, and emotional weight. That's something Bonnard understood deeply. His paintings were never really about interiors or landscapes alone. They were about light filtered through memory and emotion. The color carried the psychological experience of the space. I think collectors respond to this intuitively, even if they don't consciously analyze why. People often tell me a painting feels calming, expansive, nostalgic, or atmospheric before they ever discuss composition. The emotional response happens first. And honestly, I think that's the power of painting itself. Color bypasses language. It reaches us in a place that feels instinctive, emotional, and almost impossible to fully explain. Related Reading If this resonates, these posts go deeper into the ideas behind the work: How Josef Albers Shaped the Way I See Color — the direct influence of Albers' relational color theory on my geometric practice. Pierre Bonnard and the Color That Holds — how a trip to Paris deepened my understanding of color as emotional memory. Raimonds Staprans: Saturated Color, Presence, and Lasting Impact — another painter who uses color as pure psychological force. Pieces That Connect These works came directly out of the ideas above, color as structure, tension as atmosphere: Sail Away, 36×36 — ultramarine and warm coral in direct tension, the color does the emotional work before the subject registers. Beach, 30×30 — soft tonal shifts across a geometric plane, stillness created through temperature rather than subject. Harbor, 30×40 — deep blues and muted neutrals layered to create distance and quiet, the kind of atmospheric weight Bonnard understood. Bring This Into Your Space If you've ever felt drawn to a painting before you could explain why, that's color doing exactly what it's meant to do. Explore the collection to find the piece that holds that feeling for you, or inquire about a custom commission if you have a specific palette or feeling in mind. Explore the Collection →
Shilo Ratner working in her studio on a geometric abstract painting
What Makes a Painting Feel Alive?
There's a moment in the studio when a painting stops needing you. Shilo Ratner reflects on what makes a painting feel emotionally alive, from intuitive color choices and visible layers to the tension between imperfection and completion.
Beach 30x30 original geometric abstract painting by Shilo Ratner on white wall
One Painting, Fully Explained: Beach
Most paintings get a title, a price, and a few sentences. This one takes a closer look. Beach is a 30 × 30 geometric abstract painting built from the logic of the shoreline, behavior, not appearance. This is a complete breakdown: where it started, how it was built, what changed, and what most people miss. See Beach in the collection → The Initial Idea The starting point wasn't a visual. It was a behavior. I kept returning to the way water moves at the shoreline, not the look of it, but the logic. The tide doesn't repeat exactly. Each wave recedes at a slightly different angle, leaves a slightly different edge, pulls back with slightly different force. There's a system operating, but it never produces the same result twice. A system needs enough repetition to be legible, but enough variation to stay alive. That tension between system and variation is what I wanted to build into a painting. Not a picture of the beach. A painting that works the way the beach works. Building the System The canvas is square, which matters. A square doesn't have a natural direction. It doesn't push the eye left to right or top to bottom the way a landscape format does. That neutrality was useful here, because the movement had to come entirely from the forms themselves, not from the shape of the support. The composition is built from horizontal bands that shift, compress, and interrupt each other. They function as tidal layers: each one moving at a different rate, overlapping without merging. The eye follows the edges rather than any single focal point. There's no center of gravity. The painting holds attention by distributing it. That relationship between rhythm and structure is something I explored more directly in Ebb and Flow Abstract Painting: When Surrender Becomes Creation. I also made a deliberate decision to keep the forms hard-edged. Soft edges would read as atmospheric, impressionistic, wave-like in a literal sense. Hard edges force the geometry to carry the movement instead. The result feels more like a diagram of the coast than a depiction of it. Color Logic The palette is blue and neutral, but the neutrals are doing most of the structural work. A range of warm and cool off-whites sits alongside the blues, and the temperature shifts between them create a subtle spatial push and pull. Warmer neutrals advance slightly. Cooler ones recede. That movement is quiet, but it's what gives the painting depth without relying on illusionistic perspective. The same principle is at work in How Josef Albers Shaped the Way I See Color. The blues are controlled rather than expressive. Some lean toward slate, others toward a washed cerulean, others toward near-gray. Each one is chosen for its relationship to the forms around it, not for emotional effect on its own. The emotion comes from the whole, not any single color. I also kept the value range relatively compressed. High contrast would have created drama. I was after something steadier, calm, but still in motion. The result is a kind of unsettled calm, like watching the tide without needing it to resolve. What Changed Along the Way The early version had more forms, more bands, more interruptions, more variation in width. It was busier, and that busyness worked against the system. I simplified. Removed two horizontal elements entirely. Widened two of the remaining bands so the rhythm slowed down. The painting became quieter, and paradoxically more active, because the eye had room to move between the forms rather than being crowded by them. The frame color also changed. The original frame was a cooler white that competed with the lightest tones in the painting. I switched to a warmer wood finish that separates cleanly from the canvas without pulling attention. What Viewers Don't Notice The edges of the forms are not perfectly parallel. This is intentional. If every horizontal band were exactly parallel, the painting would feel mechanical, static, like a striped field rather than a system in motion. The slight deviations, a degree or two at most, create the sense that the forms are shifting relative to each other. It reads as movement without being obvious about it. Most people also don't notice how few colors are actually in the painting. From a distance it reads as rich and varied. Up close, the palette is spare. That compression is part of the discipline: getting a lot of visual information from a small number of decisions. The bottom edge of the composition is slightly heavier than the top. The forms there are wider, the values slightly darker. It grounds the painting without making it feel weighted down. It's the visual equivalent of the shoreline itself, the place where everything settles before the next wave comes through. If that kind of movement resonates with you, Beach is available as a framed original, 30 × 30 inches, ready to hang. If you'd like to see it in your space before deciding, I'm happy to help with that. You can also browse the full coastal paintings collection for related works. View Beach →  |  Questions: shiloratner@gmail.com
Buy original art with payment plans - flexible installment payments available
Making Art More Accessible: A New Way to Collect Original Paintings
I still remember the first painting I bought for myself. I was in my early 20s, standing in a small gallery, going back and forth on whether I should do it. It felt like a big deal, because it was. I was excited, but also nervous about spending the money. I didn't fully understand yet what it meant to live with a piece of original art, only that I wanted my apartment to feel more like mine, more considered, more complete.
Geometric abstract painting displayed on a white wall, showing structured form and color in an interior setting- Artist Shilo Ratner
The First Mark Matters More Than You Think
Early decisions act as constraints, but not in a restrictive way. They create direction. A horizon line placed slightly higher or lower shifts the entire spatial experience. A compressed shape changes how the surrounding space breathes. A color introduced too early can either anchor the work or flatten it. These choices don't just sit on the surface. They organize everything that follows. The painting begins to build from that first condition.
Original geometric abstract painting by Shilo Ratner hanging in a home interior
What Happens After You Buy a Painting?
Most conversations about art end at the point of purchase. But what happens after a painting comes home? That's where the real story begins, and where the value of original art truly reveals itself.
Geometric abstract art collection guide - tips for art collectors by Shilo Ratner
How to Collect Geometric Abstract Art: The Complete Guide | Shilo Ratner
As an artist whose work has been exhibited in museums and represented by respected galleries, I’ve seen how a painting can transform a space, spark conversation, and even become an investment. First-time collectors often wonder whether a piece will “fit” their home or lifestyle, but the truth is: trust your instincts.
Theophilus Brown monograph, Bay Area Figurative Movement, from Shilo Ratner's personal collection
Tea with Theophilus Brown
A reflection on meeting Theophilus Brown after being selected for the Art Space 712 portrait exhibition in San Francisco.
Gallery view of geometric abstract landscape paintings by Shilo Ratner
The Influence of Nature on My Landscape Paintings
Nature has an incredible way of grounding us — and that influence is central to my landscape-inspired artwork. Rather than painting literal scenes, my work abstracts natural forms into simplified shapes and layered compositions. 
Traces of Stillness — 6x6 inch original landscape collage series by Shilo Ratner, layered paper works on paper
Traces of Stillness: New Landscape Collage Series
Traces of Stillness is a contemplative 6×6 inch collage series by Shilo Ratner exploring quiet mountain landscapes through minimal form, layered paper, and subtle geometry. Original works on paper available now.
Pockets Filled With Hope 5x10ft geometric abstract painting installation at Southern Connecticut State University
Pockets Filled With Hope SCSU!
Large-scale public art installation: Pockets Filled With Hope, a 5x10ft geometric abstract painting by Shilo Ratner, installed at Southern Connecticut State University School of Business.