For the second time, Art Madrid presents the online sales campaign Art&Collect: your work in one click . From December 14th to January 5th, the public will have a selection of available artworks by the artists participating in the fair's next edition.

In collaboration with the galleries that make up the general program at Art Madrid'23 and through our online store, we will find more than 40 works worth between 800 and 1,800 euros (VAT included). Art&Collect is a digital initiative that aims to bring the latest contemporary art to all audiences.

The selection includes a sample of the disciplines that we will be able to enjoy in the February 2023 edition and offers us a preview of the artists who will attend the Palacio de Cristal de Cibeles with their galleries. From the revision of classical culture and the history of art in Xurxo Gómez-Chao's photographs, to the "intervened reality" created and documented by David Delgado Ruiz. Painting takes center stage as the most fashionable and present discipline in the current context: Julien Primard takes us into his dream scenes through an aesthetically contemporary filter, while Cristina Gamón floods her abstractions on methacrylate with color.

On the other hand, the work on paper delights us with the delicate and symbolist drawing of Juanjo Martínez Cánovas. The experimentation in the use of materials and techniques is evident in the creation of Francesca Poza from tarlatan or in the use of metal in the realistic buildings of Nicolás Lisardo. The representation of disciplines ends with the marble sculpture expertise of Carlos Andrade or the pop figures of Fidia Falaschetti.

The list of artists in Art&Collect Roger Sanguino (DDR Art Gallery), Costa Gorelov (Dr. Robot Gallery), Kuk Lin (Dr. Robot Gallery), Pepe Puntas (BAT Alberto Cornejo), Elvira Carrasco (Galería La Aurora), Saltâo (Galeria São Mamede), Sofía Areal (Galeria São Mamede), Julien Primard (Galerie LJ), Juanjo Marínez Cánovas (Inéditad), Nicolás Lisardo (Galería Manuel Ojeda), Marc Sparfel (MA Arte contemporáneo), Xurxo Gómez-Chao (MoretArt), Iván Prieto (MoretArt), Diego Benéitez (Rodrigo Juarranz), Jaime Sicilia (Rodrigo Juarranz), Cristina Gamón (Shiras Galería), Horacio Silva (Shiras Galería), Carlos Andrade (Trema arte contemporânea), Carlos Barão (Trema arte contemporânea), Federico Granell (Galería Metro), Stephanie de Malherbe (Uxval Gochez Gallery), Ewa Jaros (Uxval Gochez Gallery), Fidia Falaschetti (Galería Hispánica Contemporánea), KYMC (Galería Hispánica Contemporánea), Alex Pallí Vert (N2 Galería), Laura Nieto (Galería Luisa Pita), Carmen Pastrana (Galería Metro), Francesca Poza (Alba Cabrera), Marta Aguirre (BAT Alberto Cornejo), Perceval Graell (Alba Cabrera).

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.