We continue our summer agenda for art-contact being another way of recharging batteries. Summer is the ideal time to enjoy culture and art in a more relaxed way, outside the rush of the rest of the year.

MADRID

The Gaviria Palace hosts until September 15th an extraordinary exhibition dedicated to Liu Bolin under the title "The invisible man". This Shandong-born creator started his career in the world of sculpture but soon began to explore the power of photography, performance and installation to channel his artistic concerns. The title of the exhibition refers to the work the author has developed around the mimicry and the gimmicky works in which he seems to merge with the environment. The result is a large format photograph that deceives our senses and forces us to look twice to understand what we are really seeing. Within this line, his series "Migrants" involves other people on the scene and merges them with the beaches and boats that constitute their harsh reality, what proposes a double game between metaphorical invisibility and the real invisibility of this type of human conflicts.

Liu Bolin, "Green food"

GIJÓN

LABoral Center for Art and Industrial Creation presents “Eco-visionarios”, a contemporary creation project carried out in collaboration with other institutions: Bildmuseet of Umeå (Sweden), House of Electronic Arts (HeK) of Basel (Switzerland), MAAT- Museum of Art and Architecture of Lisbon (Portugal), to which Matadero Madrid and the Royal Academy of Arts in London have recently joined. The objective of this initiative, which has already been running for two years, is to analyse from an artistic perspective the environmental challenges that appear the society of our time, taking as a starting point the principles that underlie the activity of each of the institutions involved. Thus, after addressing the issue giving priority to approaches such as the relationship between art and ecology, the emergence of sustainable architecture, or the link between art and technology; LABoral delves into the biosphere-technosphere connection, with transversal works that interrelate art, science, technology and society. To the Gijón program, the activities of the Nave16 of Matadero Madrid add.

BILBAO

The Guggenheim Bilbao welcomes the work of Jenny Holzer under the title "Lo indescriptible." This American author began her career in painting but soon perceived that this medium was insufficient for her artistic purposes. She became then interested in public art and writing. Because language contains the enormous power to transform, to understand multiple messages, to host numerous philosophical and political positions. In the new millennium, Holzer went from the use of others’ texts to her own literary production. The visual and aesthetic game between content and container is constant in her work. The media gets diverse, and the power of speech enhances. Throughout her career, she has resorted to everyday materials with projects that interact directly with the public (messages on posters, wrappers, products ...) and also to more durable works, with headlines and lines engraved in stone, lighted signs and a long etcetera. This exhibition presents an extensive tour of her work, to understand the scope of her messages and participate in the same critical discourse.

Jenny Holzer, "For Bilbao"

MÁLAGA

After the enormous success reaped by this exhibition in Madrid, “An unauthorised exhibition” arrives at La Térmica. It is a selection of works by the controversial Banksy contributed by private collectors. Surrounded still by mystery and anonymity, this urban artist has earned the recognition of critics and the public with transgressive works of a witty message that always pose an open criticism of the established system. Every proposal is a question that challenges the viewer, to rethink the schemes inherited from our society and our capitalist market.

PALMA DE MALLORCA

Plessi's universe takes over Es Baluards this summer. Fabrizio Plessi, an artist who arrived in Palma in 1989 to stay, made the island his place of work, where he took root and built a net of interwoven relationships with his work and his fascination for new disciplines. Captivated by video art since its inception, his passage through Palma on the cusp of his career was a creative impulse of great depth. He mixed the baroque inherited from Italy with spiritualised minimalism that gave him the serenity of the place. His work continually resorts to some fundamental themes, which face life from a humanistic perspective. Essential issues such as time and space, light and object, awareness of sustainability, the vision of the Mediterranean as a cultural link... The exhibition includes a large part of his author books and videos related to their stories, to generate a multisensory visitor experience. Until September 1st.

Fabrizio Plessi, Digital Wall (Acqua 6), 2018

BURGOS

The CAB of Burgos holds two interesting samples with a clear sensory vocation. We start with "PERturbacións", by Christian Villamide (Lugo, 1966). With pieces of painting, sculpture and photography, this project is about the detachment that human beings currently live concerning their natural environment. The spaces previously occupied by natural ecosystems are buried by urban progress. The distance created with respect to a context that should be the closest and most organic gives rise to progressive mechanisation of interactions, a division of spaces, with human interventions that are often forgotten over time.

Kitazu&Gomez, "Anchovy Freak", 2007-2015

On the other hand, we highlight the exhibition ‘Haggish Flash’, of the group formed by Jesús Gómez (Burgos, 1962) and Megumi Kitazu (Tokushima, 1975). Both artists met in Berlin in 2001, and since then they have shared lines of work upon aspects of contemporary everyday life based on their personal experiences. Using a fictitious ice cream brand as a pretext, Kitazu & Gomez address issues such as sexual identity, multiculturalism, the relationship between marketing and art... The collection brings together paintings and installations where they use materials of all kinds and incorporate digital techniques.

The painting of Daniel Bum (Villena, Alicante, 1994) takes shape as a space for subjective elaboration, where the figure emerges not so much as a representational motif but as a vital necessity. The repetition of this frontal, silent character responds to an intimate process: painting becomes a strategy for navigating difficult emotional experiences—an insistent gesture that accompanies and alleviates feelings of loneliness. In this sense, the figure acts as a mediator between the artist and a complex emotional state, linking the practice of painting to a reconnection with childhood and to a vulnerable dimension of the self.

The strong autobiographical dimension of his work coexists with a formal distance that is not the result of conscious planning, but rather functions as a protective mechanism. Visual restraint, an apparent compositional coolness, and an economy of means do not neutralize emotion; instead, they contain it, avoiding the direct exposure of the traumatic. In this way, the tension between affect and restraint becomes a structural feature of his artistic language. Likewise, the naïve and the disturbing coexist in his painting as inseparable poles, reflecting a subjectivity permeated by mystery and unconscious processes. Many images emerge without a clearly defined prior meaning and only reveal themselves over time, when temporal distance allows for the recognition of the emotional states from which they arose.

The Long Night. Oil, acrylic, and charcoal on canvas. 160 × 200 cm. 2024.

The human figure appears frequently in your work: frontal, silent, suspended. What interests you about this presence that seems both affirmative and absent?

I wouldn’t say that anything in particular interests me. I began painting this figure because there were emotions I couldn’t understand and a feeling that was very difficult for me to process. This character emerged during a very complicated moment in my life, and the act of making it—and remaking it, repeating it again and again—meant that, during the process, I didn’t feel quite so alone. At the same time, it kept me fresh and connected me to an inner child who was broken at that moment, helping me get through the experience in a slightly less bitter way.

Santito. Acrylic and oil on canvas. 81 × 65 cm. 2025.

There is a strong affective dimension in your work, but also a calculated distance, a kind of formal coldness. What role does this tension between emotion and restraint play?

I couldn’t say exactly what role that tension plays. My painting is rooted in the autobiographical, in memory, and in situations I have lived through that were quite traumatic for me. Perhaps, as a protective mechanism—to prevent direct access to that vulnerability, or to keep it from becoming harmful—that distance appears unconsciously. It is not something planned or controlled; it simply emerges and remains there.

Night Painter. Acrylic on canvas. 35 × 27 cm. 2025.

Your visual language oscillates between the naïve and the unsettling, the familiar and the strange. How do these tensions coexist for you, and what function do they serve in your visual exploration?

I think it reflects who I am. One could not exist without the other. The naïve could not exist without the unsettling; for me, they necessarily go hand in hand. I am deeply drawn to mystery and to the act of painting things that even I do not fully understand. Many of the expressions or portraits I create emerge from the unconscious; they are not planned. It is only afterwards that I begin to understand them—and almost never immediately. A considerable amount of time always passes before I can recognize how I was feeling at the moment I made them.

Qi. Acrylic on canvas. 81 × 65 cm. 2025.

The formal simplicity of your images does not seem to be a matter of economy, but of concentration. What kind of aesthetic truth do you believe painting can reach when it strips itself of everything superfluous?

I couldn’t say what aesthetic truth lies behind that simplicity. What I do know is that it is something I need in order to feel calm. I feel overwhelmed when there are too many elements in a painting, and I have always been drawn to the minimal—to moments when there is little, when there is almost nothing. I believe that this stripping away allows me to approach painting from a different state: more focused, more silent. I can’t fully explain it, but it is there that I feel able to work with greater clarity.

Crucifixion. Acrylic on canvas. 41 × 33 cm. 2025.

To what extent do you plan your work, and how much space do you leave for the unexpected—or even for mistakes?

I usually feel more comfortable leaving space for the unexpected. I am interested in uncertainty; having everything under control strikes me as rather boring. I have tried it on some occasions, especially when I set out to work on a highly planned series, with fixed sketches that I then wanted to translate into painting, but it was not something I identified with. I felt that a fundamental part of the process disappeared: play—that space in which painting can surprise even myself. For that reason, I do not tend to plan too much, and when I do, it is in a very simple way: a few lines, a plane of color. I prefer everything to happen within the painting itself.