For this new edition of Art Madrid'22 the video art platform PROYECTOR, once again under the curatorship of Mario Gutiérrez Cru, proposes a programme that revolves around the concept of loop. During the fair, the ARTMADRID-PROYECTOR'22 stand will allow us to enjoy a proposal by the pioneer of new media art Gary Hill together with a performance on 23 February at 8 pm. On 25 February, the pioneer of Spanish sound art Llorenç Barber will close the fair with a performance at 20:00h.

Pioneers" professional meeting

On the other hand, on Saturday 19 February in the Sala Auditorio El Águila at 12 noon there will be a professional round table organised by PROYECTOR on the concept of "loop" in video art, new media, festivals and media collecting.

We will have Gary Hill (usa), pioneer of new media art; Tom Van Vliet (hol), collector and director since 1982 of WWVF, one of the first video art festivals in the world; Sandra Lischi (ita) director of Ondavideo and INVIDEO, pioneering video art festivals since 1985; as well as the presentation and moderation of Tamara García (spa), specialist in the concept of the loop.

The meeting will be held in English, without translation, and can be watched both in person and virtually via streaming. A video with subtitles will be uploaded afterwards on the fair's channel.

Performance, Llorenç Barber

Screening of international curators

After the professional meeting in the morning, several of these experts will present a historical selection of video art. Tom Van Vliet (hol), collector and director since 1982 of WWVF, one of the first video art festivals worldwide, and Sandra Lischi (ita), director of Ondavideo and INVIDEO, pioneering video art festivals since 1985, will each present a 40-minute curatorial presentation of works from 1978 to 2003.

We will also have a presentation, this time online, by Irit Batsry, also a pioneer of video art and director of Loops.Lisboa and one of the components of the international project LOOPS.Expanded, which is an international network dedicated to exhibiting and investigating the concept and form of the Loop. With the aim of experimenting with decentralized video art / moving image exhibitions, symposiums, talks and masterclasses.

The network, founded in 2019, expands the original Loops.Lisboa initiative that started at the National Museum of Contemporary Art MNAC in Lisbon in 2015. The founders of LOOPS.Expanded are curators and organizations in the field of video art from five different countries: António da Câmara (Duplacena / Festival Temps d'Images, Lisbon - Portugal), Mario Gutiérrez Cru and Araceli López (PROYECTOR, Madrid - Spain); Sandra Lischi (Ondavideo, Milano - Italy); Tom Van Vliet (WWVF, Amsterdam - The Netherlands); Jaqueline Beltrame and Alisson Avila (collective Cine Esquema Novo (Porto Alegre - Brazil) and Irit Batsry and Alisson Avila (Loops. Lisboa / Festival Temps d'Images, Lisbon - Portugal).

Performance, Gary Hill

Also, to close a day dedicated to video art, the artist Lina Jiménez Nampaque will give a live performance at 19:30h in the same Sala El Águila.

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.