Casa Falconieri, institution specializing in the research of contemporary engraving, will be at Art Madrid with a selection of artists in a true stamping marathon. And they bring a reward!

Founded in the late 80s in Cagliari (Sardinia) as a platform for experimentation and research, Casa Falconieri promotes the international diffusion of contemporary art, especially contemporary engraving and printing. They works with the main international research centers, national and private museums, with the national chalcography, with the Italian Ministry of Culture, the Museum of Fine Arts of Bilbao, National Calcography of Madrid, Estampa, Bologna Setup, Italian University and the Accademie di Belle Arti, and this year is one of the guests at Art Madrid'18.

Atelier Casa Falconieri

Casa Falconieri visits the fair with a large group of Sardinian artists: Gabriella Locci, Roberto Puzzu, Antonio Mallus, Rosanna Rossi, Adelaide Lussu, Anna Saba, Alberto Marci, Veronica Paretta, Veronica Gambula, Andrea Spiga, Mauro Rombi, Paolo Marchi, P & B , Francesco Alpigiano, Vicenzo Grosso, Veronica Fadda, Angelino Fiori, Giovanna Secchi, Salvatore Ligios, Paola Dessy, and editions of Simonetta Castia. During the five days of the fair and continuously, these creators will make their work available to the public to teach, explain and help to know how the engraving technique works. A printing machinery that matches perfectly with the ideals of Casa Falconieri and its work of disseminating the work on paper. With them, with their work, they reflect the evolution of an art sector in continuous development and symbiosis with sister disciplines such as photography, the artist's book, the work on paper... with the ultimate desire to change the vision that many have on the graphic art and printmaking, an inexhaustible source of inspiration.

Atelier Casa Falconieri

During the fair, the "Book of Artist - Casa Falconieri / Art Madrid" Award will be granted to one of the participating artists in this 13th edition. It is an artistic residence conceived as a 15-day experimentation workshop at Casa Falconieri Laboratory located in Sardinia, for the prize-winner to create graphic work or an artist's book. A trip to the cultural and artistic heritage of the area, a meeting point with other artists, each with its origins and its histories, to develop new projects together. It is about sharing experiences but also about carrying out a personal investigation on the transformations of the artistic creation sector, its relationship system, in search of new more sustainable and human methods.

A committee formed by professionals from Casa Falconieri and Art Madrid will choose the winner among the artists participating in the fair whose object or motive is the work on paper in its different forms. The award will be granted on Sunday 25th at 6pm, in the stand D1 of Casa Falconieri.

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.