Art Madrid'26 – SUNCITYBOY: THE EMPIRE OF THE EMOJI

Suncityboy. Courtesy of the artist.

ARTE & PALABRA. CONVERSATIONS WITH CARLOS DEL AMOR

It is always difficult to create one's own universe, this complication increases when this universe is populated by characters known and recognized by all, who are part of the imagination of many, inventing on what already exists is doubly difficult. Suncityboy (Tver, Russia, 1984) has invented a world inhabited by fairy tale characters and cultural icons who share a common denominator: they are formed by small balls that assemble an impossible body with an emoji face and, despite the initial strangeness, immediately evoke empathy and familiarity.

Color overflows all its scenes and we meet Alice in Wonderland (or more precisely in Suncityboy's country), Dorothy in OZ, the seven dwarfs a bit changed or even a very particular interpretation of Vermeer's "Milkmaid". But they all stop being them to enter a new life where humor, irony, acidity and a huge dose of energy renew our view on things, theoretically very seen. From Marilyn to the birth of Venus, everything is susceptible to be "rounded" and to provoke a smile in us. If we have to choose between the angry emoji or the smiley emoji, his works will make us send the smiley emoji, and that is to be appreciated.

Aliceâs Adventures in Wonderland.Tinta y témpera sobre papel.2023.

How would you define your art in one word? Or better in an emoji.

It’s joy.

What is your favorite emoji?

This smiley (the artist points towards a painting behind himself).

What are the requirements for the characters of stories or famous works that you endow with a new life? What should they suggest to you or how do they reach you?

My characters are funny, many of them want to get into my pictures. From the world of Plato's ideas, heroes go to different outdoors, but almost all of them want to get to me. They take a turn and they are waiting for me to capture them. Not all of them, of course, because I'm a very busy person. I create new meanings for the characters: they stop living in everyday life. I think they are much more interested in the spherical world than in their non-spherical world. I can say, sure, I don't force anyone. If the hero doesn't like it, I don't keep him. I respect their rights.

Svinedrengen. Gouache on paper. 2023.

Why the spherical, the round?

The sphere is a symbol of the universe. We all encounter spheres and circles in everyday life. Circles and spheres are the main form of my paintings. These are the stars in the sky, the atoms from which everything is made, and even money, the coins with which we pay took their form in the process of evolution, because everything tends towards the sphere. My task is to speak the language of spherism, to promote this knowledge to the people.

It was not for nothing that Hokusai wrote in his lost letter to Hiroshige on the road from Rome to Edo to Kyoto, "Suncityboy, if the future embodiment of world spherism, the personification of modernism through imaginism.”

The letter was stolen from his workshop because it had value for world culture.

Do we take everything too seriously?

The seriousness of our world is evidenced by the constant dispute of objects and forms in composition. We must understand that everything is much more serious than we think. There is a constant confrontation between forms. Circles have always competed with triangles for the main rights in composition. We see this in the images of ancient Egypt. Then they were joined by squares. A square character often creeps into my paintings. He tries to dispute the spherical harmony. But, to his great regret, he makes the composition more successful. You just have to look for it.

Amazons. Gouache on paper. 2023.

Drama or comedy?

The subjects of the paintings of spherical imaginism show the relationship of particles, shapes, and ideas. Characters can be both the meaning and the category of cognition. This is similar to the metamorphosis of temporary spatial transformations, when a character becomes an object and nature becomes a thing. This is the drama of the works. But at the same time, it's also comical because of this metaphor.

Roof Girls. Gouache on paper. 2023.

What role does music play in your creative process, I understand it is important.

Music is a circle of vinyl. It penetrates into all beings like neutrinos. Without music, it's difficult to achieve a good result. If you don't have a music player, you need to add something of yourself with your inner feeling.

You can imagine yourself with a large cello or saxophone. Music is the building material of creativity. In my case, these are bright-colored construction balls. Sometimes they turn into caramels.

Where is your art going (You can answer with an emoji if you wish) 😉

My art is moving into the future. It looks like a large spherical airplane. On board are my favorite heroes. I will appear as captain sometime during the flight. I walk between the isles and serve them drinks and treats. I think you can see this for yourself.

Thank you very much, Carlos. 😉






ART MADRID’26 INTERVIEW PROGRAM. CONVERSATIONS WITH ADONAY BERMÚDEZ


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.