Former Canterbury art student turned international Pink Bear-clad thrill-seeker, LUAP talks Mongolian horses, Italian lightning and storytelling

If nothing else, lugging a pink-bear outfit up the Alps, or across the Mongolian desert on horseback, is an impressive feat of endurance and a dedication to your art form.
But to Paul Robinson, known professionally as LUAP (@luap), the Pink Bear and his travels to some of the most hard-to-reach places on the planet are much more than just a challenge.

The multidisciplinary artist, who has showcased his work around the world, studied at UCA Canterbury - formerly known as KIAD - before his breakthrough works with the Pink Bear.

A cherished remnant of childhood memory, the bear was resurrected by Paul through sessions of cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT). It has become a vessel for voyages of revelation and investigation and embodies aspirations and anxieties.

Using a variety of mediums from hyper-realistic oil paintings to sculpture and photography, LUAP’s work defies easy categorization.

With a thirst for adventure, LUAP is an artist who embraces uncertainty, immersing himself in extreme settings and unforgiving landscapes. The final image is the prize. The Pink Bear provokes thought and discussion wherever he goes and his former student stomping ground is no exception.

Having worked with the nearby Lilford Gallery for many years, LUAP will be exhibiting as part of a joint show at The Beaney House of Art & Knowledge in Canterbury alongside other prominent Kent artists under the heading Storytellers, which celebrates the connection between art and storytelling (open until 25th February 2024). We got in touch to find out more.

Hey Paul. We’ve seen so much of your work - how does the process work exactly?

They’re all painted, but I work from photos. It is like hyperrealism done with oil. But basically I travel the world and take the pictures that I then work from.

We saw one of you in the Mongolian desert with an eagle on a motorbike - how much can you plan ahead for that sort of shoot?

When you’re travelling, you’ve got to be quite ad hoc. You don’t really know what the weather’s gonna be like. You know where you’re going and I’ll have an idea in my mind of the kind of things I’d like to get, but you’ve got to be quite opportunistic. You stumble upon things. With the Mongolia shoot, I had an idea that I wanted to get it on the horse. But then I saw the motorbike and I had this narrative of ‘the old and new’. I wanted to kind of touch on that because obviously the Mongolians are now moving into the cities.

So it’s like telling a wider story within the image…

I used to work as a creative director. And you’re always trying to storytell within a single frame. And, you know, if there’s an opportunity to expand the narrative, then that’s what I’ll do.

What if people don’t get the wider narrative?

If people like them just for the image, that’s fine, but then if they get the wider message that’s great, too. But I think people bring their own narratives to the work when they look at it as well. And it’s one of the reasons the bear doesn’t have an expression because I like people to almost like project their feelings into the artwork as well, rather than just being told ‘This is what you have to feel, this is what it’s about’.

The juxtaposition is so attractive. We like things that look weird together.

Yeah, it’s like that in real life. I was in Chile and then you get this costume out at the top of a mountain. People have been asking all the way up ‘What is this massive thing you’re carrying on your back the whole time?’. People think it’s just as mad in the real world as well.

Does that ever get too painful?

Well, on some of those trips it does, yeah. With all my camera gear it’s probably 20kg.

I have to have all different lenses and different equipment in there as well. It’s not just like point and shoot. And then you’ve obviously got all your survival gear in there as well if you’re going into these remote locations.

If you carry it for 12 hours up a mountain, it’s an endeavour to do it. You’ve got to know you’re fully in.

Have you ever gone somewhere that has felt too dangerous?

I don’t know if I’ve felt like that. That’s the place I’d like to go to.

There was one in Italy, up in the mountains, I think it was an eight-hour hike up and eight hours back down. And then a thunderstorm came around us and it was a bit of a panic because you’d got lightning going off all around. And it’s like how do we get down as quick as possible? That was a bit hairy. The Mongolia trip was me pushing myself as I always had a fear of horses and I had to learn to ride because we were doing hours of horse-riding every day for two weeks. So that was really overcoming a fear to get that shoot done.

Where does the original idea come from?

I was doing cognitive behavioural therapy and the Pink Bear surfaced out of that. It was like an old childhood memory. At the time I was going through depression and basically the Pink Bear was this positive memory, so I started putting that into my work as this shining light. A then few years later I did some mountain-climbing - we did the four highest peaks of the Atlas Mountains for the National Autistic Society - and it was on the last day when we climbed Toubkal. We got up at three in the morning in the snow and ice, got to the top… when that first sunlight hit me, it was an overwhelming feeling of achievement and brought tears to my eyes because it was so full on. It kind of hit me: ‘What if I combine this adventure and pushing myself and this feeling with my artwork?’. And that’s where pushing myself into new places really started to make sense.

Do you have someone who comes with you to take the photographs?

I take all the photos, so I’m not in the bear all the time now. It used to be the bear was almost like a second skin and I was going out in it and it was almost like taking on a different persona. But now I think it’s become more about exploring narratives within the work and I am behind the lens to get the shot.

How many bear suits have you got? So many must get trashed!

Yeah, they do. I’ve probably had 10 of them now. In the sea in Australia, a massive wave came and pushed us on to these rocks - that was probably quite a hairy moment, I cut my feet open. The other guy got dragged into the rocks and the Pink Bear’s head came off and smashed into rocks and was smashed to pieces. My camera got lodged under the water and everything, but we got the photos.

Do you have many fond memories of your time in Canterbury?

I think I was drunk most of it. It was a good city. I guess it’s small and, you know, it’s a good network of people. And then obviously you’ve got all the surrounding towns as well, like Margate and Whitstable, and I did some exhibitions in Ramsgate. So, yeah, it’s a good little place to be.

INFO: https://www.luapstudios.co.uk