Aging, as Cicero observed, carries a stubborn spark that refuses to bow out with a single year. That same spirit lived in Luis Torras, a Vigo-born painter who earned recognition as Spain’s oldest active artist. For decades, Torras opened his studio each December 29 to share his world with Faro, the daily publication of the Prensa Ibérica group, becoming a beloved figure for subscribers during an era when devotion to craft mattered deeply.
Alert, mobile, and fiercely independent, Torras described his daily workflow as though another century awaited him. He painted well into his 100s, driven by an unwavering loyalty to brush and canvas. Yet this year brought a pause; he declined interviews about another birthday, saying he did not feel well. Even so, his status as Spain’s oldest man drew heightened attention, though he remained reticent about the spotlight.
Recently, a quiet void followed the loss of a longtime companion. María Jesús Incera, whom he married in 1946, had long been a central presence in his life. Her passing in June 2023 at the age of 100 deeply moved him, and relatives noted that the grief of losing her altered something within him.
In front of a painting at his Vigo memorial, María Jesús Incera’s image stood as a reminder of a life shared and a partnership that shaped Torras’s journey.
In the days that followed, family members conveyed that the flame of Torras’s spirit had quieted. He had been hospitalized, and doctors described his condition as fragile. The family explained that he had stopped painting months earlier, and out of respect for his wishes, no social events were scheduled after his passing.
The life of a plain and unassuming figurative artist, whose daily routine revolved around painting, slowly dimmed when Vigo’s Christmas lights went dark. A small vignette on one of his canvases now captures a grand tree at Porta do Sol during its festive moment.
Left, a painting of the Porta do Sol in Vigo at Christmas 2018. On the right is a still life.
Born in 1912, Torras leaves behind a luminous legacy. His body of work includes portraits of Jesus and family members, scenes of everyday life with rye bread, pears, and sardines, and sweeping landscapes that flow from seascapes to views of beloved towns such as O Berbés de Vigo, A Guarda, and Combarro.
In one of his last conversations with the newspaper, he estimated he would have created more than five hundred paintings, though he admitted many had been destroyed and only the strongest works remained in his possession.
two epidemics
He weathered two pandemics, the flu and Covid, along with a civil war that left him with hearing loss in one ear and the ordinary fatigue that comes with a long life.
With sculptor Silveiro Rivas beside him in a photograph, Torras’s resilience stood out. As a child, he contracted the Spanish flu while attending an art class. He picked up brushes at seven, and a century later, the coronavirus era did little to loosen his routines. He rose, breakfasted, read the newspaper, then painted—each day a quiet, stubborn cadence.
Art House Vigo became the permanent home of his collection and hosted a retrospective of his work. The last solo exhibition celebrated in 2008 highlighted more than fifty canvases generously donated to the city.
Discretion marked Torras’s later years. Former students and local artists recalled him with fondness, noting that the memory of his 104th birthday remained a poignant milestone. He often said goodbye with a smile, declaring that a life devoted to art had given him purpose and satisfaction. Emilia Pardo, a former pupil, recalled his humility and the sense that his art and his teaching formed a lasting bond with those around him. When asked about the secret to longevity, he offered a playful reply: if he knew, he might not share it.
On anniversaries, he would sometimes laugh at his own fate, insisting, “I am standing.”
“He left a deeply personal mark on his extensive work by applying pigments directly.”
Neighbors and fellow Vigo artists, such as Xavier Magalhaes, remembered him as a person of strong character and as a painter whose direct brushwork created a unique, intimate imprint. Magalhaes spoke of the immediacy and openness in Torras’s work, inviting viewers into the process without barriers. Elvira Caamano, a Fine Arts professor familiar with Torras’s pieces in Casa das Artes, noted the elegance and harmony of his palette, describing the paintings as disciplined, with strong drawing and composition. The loss is felt across Galician painting and among many who followed his trajectory on social networks. One of his last works, painted around his 110th year, features a carousel painted in vivid stripes on lime, a testament to his stubborn dedication to painting and to Vigo’s colorful history. He never sold his canvases, instead declaring that he would donate them to the City Council.