There are places where art breathes differently, where every piece finds the space to whisper into the viewer's ear. Art Madrid has become, edition after edition, a highly anticipated event for contemporary art—an encounter where innovation intertwines with human connection. In 2025, we celebrate our 20th edition, adhering to the guiding principles that have always defined Art Madrid: an approach that remains close to the public and attuned to the realities of the art world, conscious of future challenges and the positive impact of events like this, which often bring fresh air and break the insularity that tends to permeate the sector.

Milija Cpajak Thorn. Bronze sculpture. 2021.

It is often thought that the success of an art fair is measured in square meters. In truth, its true value lies in the audience's motivation to return year after year and to recommend it to others. In our case, being a "small" fair is a statement of principles. Here, there is no rush, no crowds to stifle conversation.

At Art Madrid, galleries, artists, and collectors have time to meet, to unravel the stories behind the artworks. It is a place where the intimacy of dialogue takes precedence over the grandiosity of numbers. Over these twenty years, we have seen galleries grow that began this adventure with us, sharing and shaping their journeys in the same spirit of closeness and authenticity. At the same time, each edition is enriched by the incorporation of new projects and visions that inject fresh air and broaden our artistic horizons.

Veljko Vuckovic. Suspended State. Oil on canvas. 2024.

The year 2025 brings us a selection of artists who are shaping the future of art. Guided by the thirty-four galleries participating in this edition of Art Madrid, we will discover artists whose passion for visual expression redefines the boundaries between abstraction and figuration; bold proposals that explore texture, color, and the symbolism of “other” visual narratives; and new voices and perspectives that confront the challenges of creation in a globalized world. This wealth of perspectives invites visitors to witness a constant dialogue between contemporary creation and the tensions that permeate it.

A clear example of how contemporary artists are weaving threads between the past and the present, thereby reshaping our understanding of art as a dynamic practice in continuous dialogue with history. In this context, artists challenge the conventions of visual language and invite us to rethink the meanings, textures, and symbols that saturate our perceptions.

The fair has remained true to its identity as a close, human-centered event—modest in scale but significant in impact—allowing it to offer a unique and personalized experience to everyone involved. The questions we pose are clear: How is contemporary art understood in the 21st century? How can a fair be not just a marketplace, but also a space for debate, critique, and discovery? And, above all, what does it mean to celebrate twenty years of contemporary art in a world transforming at breathtaking speed?

Iyán Castaño. Corrientes circulares. Mixed Media. 2024.

In 2025, Art Madrid emerges as a call to action: an invitation to pause and reflect on the role that art plays in our lives and society. Rather than offering a quick response to market dynamics, the fair creates a moment of reflection, a space where artworks can engage in deeper, more meaningful dialogue with the viewer. This approach is not only necessary but becomes an act of resistance against the immediacy and superficiality that often characterize the consumption of art in the digital age.

In an era where the acceleration of the market and consumer-driven trends shape the creation and exhibition of art, Art Madrid remains faithful to a model that values thoughtful reflection, personal encounters, and profound dialogue. This critique of speed is particularly relevant in a historical moment where digital platforms, algorithms, and globalization are redefining our interactions with culture.

Joana Gancho. ST. Oil on table. 2024.

In this edition, we tackle the challenge of balancing the need for relevance in a globalized market with the preservation of authenticity and creativity. In this effort, we have successfully struck a balance where the quality of the artistic offering is prioritized over the mass scale of events. This principle is essential to understanding how the fair has, over two decades, evolved into an international showcase while remaining true to its local essence and its strong connection to Madrid’s artistic community.

The inclusion of disciplines such as painting, sculpture, photography, and video art reflects the plurality of approaches that define Art Madrid. This diversity of artistic expressions offers the public a broad and multifaceted perspective on today’s contemporary art landscape, demonstrating art’s power to transform perceptions of urban spaces, integrating technology into the creative process, and reshaping the relationship between the viewer, the artwork, and the context that embraces it.

Richard García. Me peleo con las bestias de mi propia fantasía. Mixed Media. 2024.

Art Madrid returns this year, celebrating twenty years of contemporary art and reaffirming its commitment to remain an open space for galleries and artists striving to stand out in an increasingly fragmented and image-saturated world. With this in mind, we aim to ensure that the galleries' exhibitions resonate with the public, enhancing the experience by proposing new ways of engaging with contemporary art and tackling complex issues such as climate change, identity, collective memory, and global politics. In 2025, the works on display at Art Madrid will undoubtedly reflect the most pressing concerns and questions of our time.

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.