Manu Iranzo. Courtesy of the artist.

ARTE & PALABRA. CONVERSATIONS WITH CARLOS DEL AMOR

There is a strange sensation when you stand in front of a work by Manu Iranzo (Teruel, 1983), you don't know if what you have in front of you is real or if it is some kind of intermediate layer between what we think we see and what we really see. It is as if his meticulous graphite drawings came out of the dream from last night. His work, I feel, moves in that diffuse plane that borders the existing boundary between what we think we have seen and what we have really seen.

Do the test, look at a sea, a flower or a cloud, then close your eyes tightly, that sea, that flower and that cloud remain, but in a different way, they are already a very close memory, but impossible to return, nothing will be the same when we open our eyelids. What we see when, paradoxically, our eyes are closed is very similar to Iranzo's drawings. It is the moment frozen and remembered of something that will never exist as we saw it. Its origins in design can be appreciated, although I feel that this is like the famous riddle, we will not know which came first, the drawing or the design. I say that the influence of this other facet is evident because a designer must be specific and observant, and this capacity for observation is often carried out far from the terrain on which he will later work, and it must be something like closing one's eyes and catching the moment, a step before sharpening the pencil.

ST. From the Botanical series. Graphite pencil on paper. 2023.

If you had to define your art in one sentence, what would it be?

The affirmation of balance, order and detail.

Looking at your social media, it says: "drawing and design", is that the right order?

There is no fixed order, I see it more as an indivisible, inseparable whole. It is the same look for the one who draws as for the one who designs, as both are completely complementary creative disciplines. The working environment/ecosystem may change, whether digital or analog, but the perception is the same.

I am aware that in design there are problems to be solved with a purpose/function for a specific client and specific needs. Drawing, on the other hand, enjoys a greater autonomy, in addition to being an emotional and personal expression, it also requires a final viewer with whom a conversation is established. I think that both fields drink from each other, sharing resources in both directions.

It is said that art poses questions and design offers answers. Drawing is subjective and can evoke different interpretations, while design has to communicate its message in a more direct and specific way.

I mean, how does your facet as a designer influence the drawing?

The way I approach the project. When I approach the work, I try to ask myself questions as if it were a client's briefing; to see what needs I have to cover. I try to answer these questions from the conceptual to the technical part, the possible route of the series, the technical complexity or the estimated time of execution.

I also consider that this designer's point of view has a direct influence on the way I compose the elements in the work. There are similarities when I layout a poster or a book, how the typographic compositions interact with the images, how they "stain" in short.

On a technical level, all the sketches that precede the final work are done in the digital environment. It is on the computer where I begin the sketching phase, where I establish formats and dimensions, so that when I move on to drawing, I already have a clear idea of how it will look. On the computer I can see very well how the work will look as a whole, if it will work. I don't usually improvise at the last minute, although I do improvise on some details of tonal evaluation or finishing in certain parts of the work. I try to be concise. I think that discipline in the process comes directly from the design world. It helps me to be more specific, to eliminate the superfluous.

Another aspect I would like to emphasize is how the trend in design influences the artistic work, as an inevitable consequence of the context that surrounds us.

Interrupted sea. Graphite pencil on paper. 2023.

Where does reality begin and where does fiction begin in your work? Where does the tangible begin and the dreamlike begin?

Reality begins with nature itself, the recognizable image. Fiction comes from the fusion of these identifiable natural elements with subjective interpretations. In my work Mar Interrumpido or in the Botánica series I experiment with the formation of the image, an effective treatment of blur creates an atmosphere that leads the viewer into the realm of interpretation, into a more psychological section.

Another element that I think influences and plays an important role in this concept of reality/fiction is the scale, the actual dimensions of the work. Introducing a sea with a diameter of eight centimeters or making clouds in a vertical format of more than two meters high. There is a different degree of intimacy, of contemplation of the work, one invites the approach and the other needs an inevitable space.

The dreamlike result is also linked to the monochrome technique itself. The absence of color leads us into the realm of imagination, into a sense of unreality. I also think that my way of drawing is pictorial in terms of treatment, sometimes the contours are lost, which helps and enhances the character of unreality.

What does the graphite of a pencil give you to trust it with everything?

The graphite pencil on paper is the medium in which I feel most comfortable when it comes to expressing myself and presenting my work. The cleanliness, the simplicity, the versatility, the speed of preparation, the finish, its slight shine, the black tone has a special light... the warmth, in short. The process based on layers, the different treatments, the meticulousness of the detail. Seeing the drawing and being able to observe a new nuance each time. Achieving a sense of reality only through chiaroscuro.

In earlier works I started with charcoal and colored pencils, but over time I concentrated exclusively on graphite pencils. In my drawing there is only graphite, keeping the natural white of a fine-grained paper, not very textured for the light areas or of maximum luminosity, without adding material white. The graphite technique goes hand in hand with the feeling of timelessness, of permanence. To be able to create a work that is relevant and transcendent.

A sea can be gray and look like a sea, a plant can be gray and look like a plant... Does it all depend on the eyes with which we look?

The absence of color implies that the viewer is the one who has to make an exercise of imagination and complete the image. It is a subjective and personal process, an individual perception. In any case, we are in the field of figurative representation and we can approach reality itself, since these elements are recognizable.

Continuing the game of questioning, a sea can be gray and look like a cliff, as happens in the Prisms series. Fragments of the sea are manipulated as a collage in which their union forms a new landscape. The very relief of the waves, together with their strong contrast, creates another different geographical feature; what was once liquid and light now changes its appearance to solid and rocky. A new nature emerges from common elements.

It has always been said that the origin of all art is drawing. Is drawing the essence?

By definition, drawing is the graphic expression of an idea or emotion. It is the artist's first contact with the work, the first approach. It is considered the precursor to painting, sculpture and architecture. Giorgio Vasari himself describes drawing as the most intimate and direct way an artist can work. This means that drawing comes from the intellect, it is the common link between knowledge and practice, contour - line - shade. Drawing is truth, it captures the essence of representation. It has more to do with touch than with sight. In my case, the drawing does not work as a sketch or as a prelude to the canvas, the drawing is the final work. As I said, the preliminary stage of ideas and sketches comes from the computer. Personally, in a more symbolic context, I see the drawing process itself as a liturgy, both for its structure and for its introspective exploration.

ST. From the series Three Seas. Graphite pencil on paper. 2023.

Do you think about colors?

At the moment I think more about form than color. It is the direct consequence of using a monochrome technique that determines the need to focus on other aspects. By abandoning color, I focus on structure, composition, and the search for formal balance.

I also think that an important point comes back into play, which is the concern for permanence, the concern for how the work will be perceived in the future. I spoke earlier about the trend in design (typographies, visual effects, graphic means, color...) and the risk in the creative contribution, the fear of the possibility of a very specific fashion. I am aware that the realization of a work can take several days or months and that uncertainty can be there.

Coming back to the question, I have no objection to the use of color. It was present in earlier works, I even combined it with the graphite itself, but my work has moved away from it.

Where is your art going?

I believe that the future of my artistic creation is to continue to explore ways of using drawing as the main technique along with the incorporation of emerging technological solutions. One example is augmented reality, which I have experimented with in some of my recent work. Again, I emphasize the union of digital and analog, where the tangible physical element is combined with virtual elements.

In the same way, continuing the relationship between design and drawing, I can extend the creative range by incorporating animation or text that complements and enriches the work, giving the viewer a more complete experience and allowing them to participate in a more personal way.

An example of this is my work Nubes en degradado, where augmented reality was implemented to add an animation to the drawing. This function was activated by focusing directly on the drawing with a mobile phone, adding movement and taking the work into another dimension. Here I want to emphasize the importance of the creative process: the work begins in the computer environment, moves to the physical format of paper, and culminates on the mobile screen. You could say that the drawing "jumps" from paper to screen, expanding its scope and path.

When, in September 2012, the Spanish government decided to raise cultural VAT from the reduced rate of 8% to the standard rate of 21% (effective 1 September 2012), it was not merely implementing a fiscal adjustment measure in the midst of an economic recession. It was making a strategic decision that placed Spanish culture at a structural disadvantage compared to its European counterparts. The measure affected an industry that generated 503,700 jobs and accounted for 4% of Spain’s GDP, turning the country into one of the few in the eurozone where reduced VAT was not applied to cultural activities.

Paradoxically, that draconian increase of 13 percentage points—affecting cinema, theatre, concerts, and so on—failed to achieve its expected revenue goal; instead, it produced the opposite effect. According to data from the General Society of Authors and Editors (SGAE), the Spanish cultural industry at that time generated 503,700 jobs and represented 4% of GDP. When the Union of Business Associations of the Cultural Industry warned that the measure would result in the loss of 43 million spectators and €530 million in revenue, no one in government appeared to listen.

Iván Quesada. Playing hide and seek. Acrylic on canvas. 146 x 114 cm. 2025. Galería Aurora Vigil - Escalera.

The correction came late and in a fragmented manner. In 2017, theatre and live performances returned to a VAT rate of 10%. In July 2018, cinema joined this reduced rate. But here is where the real anomaly begins: while the audiovisual and performing arts sectors were able to breathe again, the visual arts—understood as the commercial activity carried out by galleries—remained at 21%. And they remain there today, in January 2026.

Spain currently maintains a deeply fragmented and contradictory cultural VAT system. Artists who sell their works directly are taxed at 10%. Galleries that sell those same works may be taxed at 21% under the Special Regime for Used Goods (REBU), although under this regime VAT is calculated on the margin of the transaction rather than on the total price, and not all gallery operations are necessarily covered by it. The result is Kafkaesque: the main channel for the commercialization of contemporary art often bears the highest tax burden in the entire Spanish cultural industry.

Isabel Ruiz. Sin título 4. 2025. Fotografía impresa en dibond. 100 x 160 cm. Nuno Sacramento Arte Contemporânea. Nuno Sacramento Arte Contemporânea.

The data dismantle any argument based on equity. According to the Art Basel report (The Art Basel and UBS Survey of Global Collecting 2025), 95% of art buyers acquire works through galleries, whether via their physical spaces, websites, social media, or fairs. In Spain specifically, gallery sales account for around 76% of the total value of the market. Tax-penalizing the main channel of commercialization is not tax neutrality; it is structural blindness.

The comparison with Europe is devastating. France applies a 5.5% rate to art sales, Germany 7%, Italy 5%, and more recently Portugal has joined with 6%. After Brexit, France accounts for more than 50% of art sales in the European Union and approximately between 6% and 9% of global auction sales, consolidating a dominant position that is no coincidence: it is the direct and expected result of a fiscal policy that understands art as an economic and cultural lever, not as a dispensable luxury good.

The consequences for Spain are tangible and documented. A Spanish museum that wishes to acquire a work by a Spanish artist from a Spanish gallery may be taxed at 21%; if it purchases the same work through a French gallery, in many cases it pays only 5.5%. The paradox is so grotesque that it borders on the Kafkaesque. The Spanish state fiscally penalizes its own cultural institutions for supporting the national market.

At fairs held within Spanish territory, national galleries compete with French, German, or Italian stands that can offer the same artists with a fiscal advantage of up to 16 percentage points. It should be noted, however, that in cross-border purchases within the EU, tax treatment depends on factors such as whether the museum acts as a taxable person with a VAT ID and on the nature of the transaction (domestic supply versus intra-Community supply, etc.), so this comparison serves as an illustrative example rather than a strict fiscal statement. This is not merely about competition; it is, in reality, structural dumping.

Daniel Bum. Self-Portrait II. 2025. Oil and acrylic on linen. 27 x 35 cm. CLC ARTE.

On 5 April 2022, the European Union approved Directive 2022/542, amending Directives 2006/112/EC and 2020/285 concerning the common system of VAT. This regulation explicitly allows Member States to apply reduced rates down to a minimum of 5% to “the supply of works of art, collectors’ items and antiques.” The deadline for its transposition into national legislation was 31 December 2024, with application from 1 January 2025. Spain has not transposed this directive with regard to the art market.

While France, Germany, Italy, Luxembourg, and Belgium have already adopted reduced rates for contemporary art, Spain maintains administrative silence. More than one thousand artists, gallerists, and professionals in the sector—including representatives of Spain at the Venice Biennale and National Fine Arts Award recipients—have signed the manifesto “Spanish Visual Artists Sign for Cultural VAT NOW.”

Thus, the government’s lack of action transcends the legal sphere and becomes a serious problem of economic vision. The Professional Committee of Art Galleries of France noted that a 5.5% rate for all transactions would generate between $40 million and $650 million in additional tax revenue through employment and art sales, whereas a 20% tax could generate losses of between $320 million and $610 million in tax revenue. The experience of countries such as the Netherlands and Portugal, which raised their cultural VAT rates and later reversed course after observing the devastating effects, should serve as a lesson.

Kim Han Ki. Don't forget me. 2024. Oil on canvas. 33.4 x 24.4 cm. Banditrazos Gallery.

FFrance and the effect of an intelligent fiscal policy

The French case dismantles the argument that culture does not generate fiscal returns. After implementing a 5.5% VAT rate for art, France currently accounts for more than 50% of art sales in the European Union and between 6% and 9% of global auctions. This dominant position is undoubtedly the direct result of a fiscal policy that understands art as an economic lever.

The Professional Committee of Art Galleries of France (CPGA) documented that a 5.5% VAT rate generates between $40 million and $650 million in additional tax revenue through employment and commercial activity in the sector, while maintaining rates of 20% produces losses of between $320 million and $610 million in tax revenue due to decreased activity. The data are conclusive: lowering VAT does not reduce revenue; it increases it.

Germany experienced a similar situation. The German Federal Association of Art Galleries and Dealers (BVDG) documented that a 19% VAT rate had stifled the market and caused gallery closures. The reduction to 7% in January 2025 was justified precisely as an economic reactivation measure. Italy, after years of debate, reduced its rate from 22% to 5% in 2025, with the aim -according to Culture Minister Alessandro Giuli- of “putting an end to an anomaly that made us less attractive compared to other European countries.”

Beatriz Castela. Spectrum IX. 2025. Acrylic on table. 80 x 60 x 3.5 cm. Galería Beatriz Pereira.

One of the most frequently repeated arguments for maintaining a 21% VAT rate on art is its perception as a luxury good. This reasoning reveals a profound misunderstanding of how the contemporary art market functions. The Art Basel 2024 report documented a significant shift in collector behavior: transactions under $5,000 grew by 7%, while galleries with sales below $250,000 increased by 17%. The art market is not the exclusive domain of millionaires; that is a stigma that new generations must break. In fact, the art market is an ecosystem increasingly accessed by the middle class through the acquisition of works.

Spain’s fiscal classification treats works of art at the same rate as tobacco, alcoholic beverages, or luxury gyms (21%), while books are taxed at a super-reduced 4%, and cinema and theatre at 10%. What cultural logic justifies taxing a photography book by an artist at 4%, but an original photograph by the same artist at 21%? The answer, however ironic it may seem, does not lie in cultural coherence, but rather in administrative inertia.

Onay Rosquet. Once upon a time there was a world. 2022. Oil on canvas. 100 x 100 cm. Collage Habana,

The consequences: from talent to brain drain

The numbers are stubborn. Spain has not managed to increase its share beyond 1% of the global art market since 2009. Meanwhile, the country has more than 24,000 artists and around 11,000 jobs directly linked to the visual arts ecosystem. This critical mass of talent and professionals is subjected to a fiscal pressure that does not exist in any other Spanish cultural sector or in any other major European art market.

he result is predictable and increasingly visible: talent drain, gallery closures, relocation of operations… and the list could go on. Some gallerists absorb part of the VAT to match prices with foreign competitors; others invoice through companies in other countries for intra-European transactions. These are survival strategies, not competitiveness strategies. The Spanish art market is becoming a second-division market, not due to a lack of artistic quality, which it has in abundance, but because of persistent administrative incompetence. Ultimately, the question is not technical but ideological: does Spain consider the visual arts to be part of its strategic cultural heritage, or does it treat them as an elitist whim?

The answer is in the Official State Gazette (BOE): as long as VAT remains at 21%, the answer is clear.

Alejandro Monge. See you in the streets. 2025. Fiberglass, cement, and pigments. 170 x 85 x 50 cm. 3 Punts Galeria.

Epilogue: a missed opportunity

Spain had until 31 December 2024 to transpose Directive (EU) 2022/542 and fiscally align its art market with Europe. It did not do so. Meetings with the Ministry of Culture and the Ministry of Finance have been ongoing for two years. Promises are repeated. The BOE remains unchanged. Meanwhile, the transactions that take place, the fairs held at home and abroad, and the artists who (fortunately) find representation with foreign galleries serve as a stark reminder of the cost of institutional inaction for culture.

The sector is not asking for privileges; it is simply demanding fairness. It asks that contemporary art receive the same fiscal treatment as cinema, theatre, or music. It asks that Spain stop penalizing those who build its contemporary cultural heritage.

The question is not whether Spain can afford to lower cultural VAT. French, German, and Italian data show that VAT reductions generate more economic activity and therefore more indirect tax revenue. The question is whether Spain can afford to continue ignoring it. Because at this moment, every percentage point of difference with France, Germany, or Italy is not merely a cold fiscal matter—it is a decision about what kind of cultural country we want to be. And administrative silence is also a decision.

Bibliography for Reference 🙂

Spanish Tax Agency (Agencia Tributaria) (2022). Council Directive (EU) 2022/542 of 5 April 2022 amending Directives 2006/112/EC and (EU) 2020/285 as regards value added tax rates. Available at: https://sede.agenciatributaria.gob.es/ Official State Gazette (BOE) (2022). Council Directive (EU) 2022/542 of 5 April 2022. Official Journal of the European Union, L 107, 6 April 2022. Available at: https://www.boe.es/buscar/doc.php?id=DOUE-L-2022-80541 EUR-Lex (2022). Council Directive (EU) 2022/542 of 5 April 2022. Available at: https://eur-lex.europa.eu/eli/dir/2022/542/oj?locale=es Law 37/1992, of 28 December, on Value Added Tax. Official State Gazette. Ministry of Culture and Sport (2024). Culture Satellite Account 2022. Madrid: Ministry of Culture and Sport. ARTEINFORMADO (2025). “Directive 2022/542: New Rules for the Art Market in Europe.” January 2025. Available at: https://www.arteinformado.com/magazine/n/la-directiva-2022542-nuevas-reglas-para-el-mercado-del-arte-en-europa-7402 AVA Castilla y León (2024). “Art VAT in 16 European Union Countries: What Are Their Current and Future Reduced Rates?” Available at: https://www.avacastillayleon.es/ AVA Castilla y León (2025). “A 5% VAT in Italy? Spain’s Comparative Disadvantage with 21% VAT on the Art Market.” Available at: https://www.avacastillayleon.es/ Finestre sull’Arte (2025). “The VAT Revolution in the Italian Art Market: New Perspectives for the Sector.” July 2025. Available at: https://www.finestresullarte.info/es/ elDiario.es (2025). “Spanish Galleries Switch Off ARCO to Demand the Promised Reduction of Cultural VAT.” 5 March 2025. Available at: https://www.eldiario.es/cultura/arte/ EXIBART.es (2025). “Spanish Art Facing the Fiscal Challenge: Galleries Call for Reduced VAT to Compete in Europe.” October 2025. Available at: https://www.exibart.es/mercado/ FACUA (2017). “FACUA Demands That the Government Apply the Same VAT Reduction to Cinema as to Live Performances.” Available at: https://www.facua.org/ Infobae (2025). “Culture Reiterates It Is ‘Fully in Favor’ of Lowering the 21% VAT on Contemporary Art Purchases.” 7 March 2025. Available at: https://www.infobae.com/ ARES – Aragón Escena (2023). “For a Reduced VAT Rate in Culture.” September 2023. Available at: https://www.aresaragonescena.com/ Bonet, Lluís (2014). “Causes and Effects of the Increase in Cultural VAT: A Comparative Analysis.” The Economy Journal, 10 February 2014. Available at: https://www.theeconomyjournal.com/ FUNCAS Blog (2016). “Is It Progressive to Reduce VAT on Cinema, Theatre, or Concerts?” 4 October 2016. Available at: https://blog.funcas.es/ INEAF Tribuna (2018). “Impact of the Increase in ‘Cultural VAT.’” 27 August 2018. Available at: https://www.ineaf.es/tribuna/ Consortium of Contemporary Art Galleries. Institutional statements and the manifesto “Spanish Visual Artists Sign for Cultural VAT NOW” (2024–2025). Institute of Contemporary Art (IAC). Mateu de Ros, Rafael. “The Controversial VAT on Art.” Available at: https://www.iac.org.es/ The Art Basel and UBS Survey of Global Collecting 2025. Available at: https://www.ubs.com/global/en/our-firm/art/art-market-research.html/ “The Spanish Art Market Contracts to 2014 Levels Due to the Pandemic.” Available at: https://www.elindependiente.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/NdP-Informe-Mercado-Arte-Espan%CC%83a-2021-OS-la-Caixa-CAST.pdf

The cited sources are verifiable and publicly accessible. Figures on VAT rates in European countries have been verified with official EU sources and national tax agencies. Percentages and economic data come from published sector studies or documented institutional statements in the media.