Adam Amram (b. 1994, Haifa, Israel) is a multidisciplinary artist working across painting, sculpture, printmaking, and animation. Amram creates vibrantly colored portraits of humanity that capture fleeting moments—both quotidian and mesmeric. His work is deeply rooted in the study of memory and the act of forgetting, exploring how these forces shape perception, identity, and emotional resonance. Often rendered through distorted perspectives, Amram’s compositions evoke a visceral, uneasy closeness to their subjects. Across mediums, his work is marked by a profound sense of yearning. Through unique color palettes, spatial tension, and fantastical narrative, he invites viewers to contemplate the fragility of recollection and the beauty found in its impermanence.

 

Amram holds a BFA in Painting and Printmaking from the Maryland Institute College of Art (2016) and an MFA from Yale University (2024). His work has been exhibited internationally, including recent shows at Huxley-Parlour (London, UK), Spurs Gallery (Beijing, China), and Yossi Milo (New York, NY). Additional exhibitions include David Castillo Gallery (Miami, FL), Atlanta Contemporary (Atlanta, GA), Mother Gallery (Beacon, NY), the de Young Museum (San Francisco, CA), Works On Paper Gallery (Philadelphia, PA), Harpy (Rutherford, NJ / Brooklyn, NY), Melanie Flood Projects and Adams and Ollman Gallery (Portland, OR), and Resort (Baltimore, MD).  He recently participated as an artist-in-residence at Fountainhead (Miami, FL) in October 2024 and at MASS MoCA (North Adams, MA) in January 2025. He currently lives and works in South Orange, NJ.

 

“Left in the Lurch” emerged from the idiom, which I found to be a fitting way to explore the murkiness of memory—the space where recollection begins to dissolve into abstraction. I kept returning to an image from childhood: in cartoons and children’s books, the cat stranded in a tree, awaiting rescue from the firemen below. That peculiar metaphor stayed with me—cats climbing upward, only to become too frightened to descend. It struck me as a visual analogue for memory itself: the ascent into experience, vivid and immediate, followed by a paralyzing fear of looking back. The past becomes unreachable, not because it’s gone, but because we can no longer descend into it with the same clarity. In this way, memory becomes a tree we’ve climbed too high in—its branches familiar, but the ground below obscured. In that same way the tree suspended in the sky begins to evoke the history of painting, things like the historical conversation of field of color, and linear abstraction think Agnes Martin or Deibenkorn".

- Adam Amram