We’re looking forward to introducing you to Amanda Linares. Check out our conversation below.
Good morning Amanda, we’re so happy to have you here with us and we’d love to explore your story and how you think about life and legacy and so much more. So let’s start with a question we often ask: What do you think is misunderstood about your business?
There are many misconceptions about being an artist, when in reality it’s closer to running a solo business.
Drawing from my personal experience as an immigrant from Cuba, I’ve seen two very different cultural views of art. In Cuba, being an artist is considered a highly admired profession due to many reasons, but partly because it can provide opportunities to travel outside the island, something many people aspire to. In the United States, the picture is completely different. Art, by contrast, is frequently seen as a hobby, a phase, or not a “real” profession due to its instability and uncertainty, encouraging children to pursue other careers that promise a stable income and comfortable life. That perspective is understandable, but it shouldn’t be a reason to ignore passion or talent. I believe that it’s important to work and do something that you truly love.
What’s often misunderstood is the sheer amount of time, resources, and expertise required to produce and sustain an art practice. It’s a career that demands both creative and entrepreneurial skills. Beyond the making of the work, the “business” of being an artist involves grant writing, production planning, documentation, marketing, and maintaining relationships with institutions — much of which is invisible to others.
Art is not an isolated pursuit. In my practice, extensive research, material experimentation, collaboration, and logistical problem-solving are just as critical as the final piece. Community is vital in this field, as is networking, which helps foster meaningful bonds with peers, curators, and broader art networks. And while art can be beautiful, it also exists to challenge, disturb, and provoke. At its best, it asks questions and sparks reflection, for both artist and audience.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I am a Cuban-born and raised multidisciplinary–interdisciplinary artist based in Miami. My practice embraces a wide range of media, including drawing, sculpture, installation, artist books, and, more recently, performance. Much of my inspiration comes from a fusion of personal experiences, cultural heritage, literature, materials, and history, explored through the lenses of memory and time.
Many of the themes in my work emerged after adapting to a new geography, engaging with questions of absence, identity, resilience, connection, and belonging. I studied printmaking for four years at San Alejandro Academy of Fine Arts in Havana, Cuba, where I earned a technical degree, and later received a BFA in graphic design from New World School of the Arts in Miami, Florida.
I am deeply interested in the memory of spaces, which has lately led me toward exploring the creation and deconstruction of site-specific projects. In this process, I try to recycle or rescue fragments from these works, transforming them into new pieces that exist as echoes or reminiscences of their original site. I value the physicality of materials, the unexpected possibilities in their combinations, and the process itself.
Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. What relationship most shaped how you see yourself?
I know it might sound conventional, but the relationship that most shaped me was the one with my mom. I’ve spoken before, in Voyage Miami, about being raised by a single mother; an experience that was fundamental in becoming the person I am today. My mom was my first art admirer and the backbone of my artistic development. I can still vividly remember, as if it were yesterday, the two of us after school standing by the roadside to catch a “botella” (Cuban slang for a free ride) so we could get to el Taller de Manero for my art classes. That kind of commitment and sacrifice from a parent leaves a permanent mark on a child’s formation into adulthood.
Beyond art, my mom and I also shared many passions, like music, and we often went to concerts together. Though we were not religious, she has long been interested in theology, which led her to explore the Theosophy Society in Havana, a place I visited a few times, leaving me with cherished memories. She also introduced me to her love of books, including a fascination with the autobiography of Agatha Christie.
I think my mom is an incredibly complex and interesting person, and those experiences not only brought us closer but also nurtured my creative spirit from an early age.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
I think suffering always teaches resilience. When you overcome a difficult time in your life and you look back, there’s a mix of emotions combined with surprise and pride, along with the question: “How did I make it through?”. It’s often in our darkest and hardest moments where we learn the most about ourselves, discovering the strength we carry and the depth of our endurance.
Not many know this, but in the past, I used to struggle with delicate health issues that conditioned most of my young adulthood. Over time, they left me feeling limited and negatively evolved into a harsh decade marked by anxiety and panic attacks. Every time I revisit those memories, I’m grateful for all the love and support that surrounded me, and deeply amazed at my own capacity to endure situations that I usually didn’t fully understand.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What’s a cultural value you protect at all costs?
The value I protect most is to never lose integrity and honesty, both as a person and in my work. I believe that when you are honest with yourself, that truth naturally reflects in your practice, becoming a kind of mirror that allows others to connect with you more deeply. For me, integrity is not negotiable, it shapes how I approach my art, my relationships, and the way I engage with the world.
Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. Are you doing what you were born to do—or what you were told to do?
I believe I am doing what I was born to do. Creating was never something I was told to pursue, it has always been the most natural and essential part of who I am. There have been times in my life when, due to certain circumstances, I wasn’t able to work on my art as much. The weight of that absence, that impotence and impossibility to create, only confirmed how deeply this is part of my nature.
Making art is inseparable from my well-being, mental health, and happiness. It is my main vehicle for release, reflection, and analysis of life. I truly believe artists hold a privilege in this way: the ability to liberate emotions through creation.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://amandallinares.com
- Instagram: @amandallinares
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/amandallinares/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@amandallinares
Image Credits
Image Credits:
Day Before Yesterday, 2025. Site-specific, Deering Estate, Miami, FL. Photo courtesy of the artist.
Yo vengo de todas partes, y hacia todas partes voy, 2024. Site-specific immersive installation, Piero Atchugarry Gallery, Miami, FL. Photo: Michael Lopez.
Epígrafe, 2025. Site-specific, presented as part of the Florida Prize in Contemporary Art exhibition, Orlando Museum of Art, Orlando, FL. Photo: Mateo Seza.
Tarde Tropical, 2024. Graphite on concrete and handmade tiles. Photo: Mateo Seza.
Paisaje Olvidado, 2024. Graphite and wall paint on concrete. Photo: Mateo Seza.
Senderos Paralelos, 2024. Site-specific floor sculpture of handmade tiles, Coral Springs Museum of Art, Coral Springs, FL. Photo: Mateo Seza.
Sismo 7.5, 2024. Graphite on concrete and handmade tiles. Photo: Mateo Seza.
Umbral, 2023. Graphite on concrete. Photo: Mateo Seza.
