Art Madrid'25 – ALEXANDER GRAHOVSKY: THE COLORS OF ENTROPY

Alexander Grahovsky

CONVERSATIONS WITH MARISOL SALANOVA. INTERVIEW PROGRAM. ART MADRID’25

Alexander Grahovsky (Alicante, 1980) begins with a chaotic or random process, similar to collecting images and creating collages from scenes that capture his interest, which he can then recreate as he pleases. His works explore themes such as the unknown, death, and animals, often drawing parallels with toys and incorporating recurring characters along with elements like floating stones. Narrative plays a crucial role in his paintings; the surrealist aspect emerges from the way he constructs a non-linear story. Scenes overlap, appear in different phases across various sections of each painting, and invite the viewer’s eye to roam through the composition. His work contains references to classical painting and cinema, making its interpretation dependent on the viewer's personal background and emotional state. The central thread of his art conveys that, despite life’s hardships, we all continue to celebrate in some way.


The Lighthouse at the End of the Ocean. 2024. Mixed media. 190 x 140 cm.


What role does experimentation play in your creative process?

Experimentation plays a fundamental role in my entire creative process on two levels: technical and narrative. On a technical level, because I allow myself a range of liberties or aesthetic whims that turn the act of painting itself into a game—something enjoyable where, in a way, anything is possible. On a narrative level, it’s about how I build stories, as there is no script or main idea holding everything together. Instead, starting from a series of seemingly disconnected scenes, I try to construct a story that intertwines, compelling the viewer, in some sense, to contribute their own interpretation or create their own narrative.

What are your references?

My influences range from classical painting, such as The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch or The Ghent Altarpiece, to more contemporary artists like Hurvin Anderson and Dominique Fung, including Hopper, Hockney, and Leonora Carrington, among countless others. All these artistic influences blend with others from cinema, including the films of Parajanov and the director of Midsommar. Particularly, Midsommar has been quite influential in my work for its distinctive aesthetic. Additionally, the world of comics plays a role, particularly the work of Moebius, especially his more surrealist science fiction illustrations. Video games are another source of inspiration, especially in how scenes are depicted—everything is flattened, as if it were a screen or the backdrop of a theater stage, reminiscent of mid-to-late-90s graphic adventure games.


A Brief Story of an Embrace. 2024. Oil, spray paint, colored pencils, and oil pastels. 33 x 41 cm.


How do you create the distinct—and sometimes recurring—characters in your paintings?

The characters develop as the body of work evolves, as if each painting were part of a larger story yet to be told. As I began working in this style, I noticed that many of them reappeared, and when I reused them or made them part of new pieces, I was already considering what I had previously painted about them, as well as what had happened to them in other works. For example, Death has transformed from being a skeleton that might seem to bring bad news into a somewhat mocking or humorous figure wearing a party hat. We also find the Devil, the Magician, and the Red House, which serves as a refuge or a pilgrimage site where characters often end up—or could end up. Then there’s the Black Cat, which initially appeared simply as a warning symbol, as if telling the other characters to stay alert to what’s happening around them, but later became a kind of measure of time: in larger pieces, it typically appears three times. I enjoy playing with the ambiguity of whether it’s three different cats or the same cat appearing at three different points in the story. In this way, the characters help weave a narrative and create connections between all the pieces, forming a shared universe to which they all belong.


The Crow, the Stag, the Grapes, and the Wine I Spilled. 2024. Oil, spray paint, colored pencils, and oil pastels. 60 x 74 cm.


When did you transition to the garden series, and why?

In 2022, I decided to gather all the surreal scenes and sketches that were scattered around my studio and explore what would happen if they coexisted in the same space—what would happen if all these seemingly disconnected elements were placed on the same plane. In this case, the plane is the canvas, and the setting is the garden. It’s here that the garden, The Garden of Earthly Delights, and all the imagery rooted in our collective unconscious become visible. From that point, I chose to keep pulling the thread of this story to see where it would lead me. This is when all the characters begin to emerge, allowing me to create a space where I can play and find creative freedom that I hadn’t experienced in my previous work.


You Should Break My Heart in January 2024. Oil, spray paint, and colored pencils on canvas. 81 x 100 cm.


What connection does this phase of your work have with your past in the world of comics?

This phase of my work draws a lot from all the years I spent reading comics, from when I was a young child to trying to break into the American comic industry. I was close, so close, but it didn’t materialize. The truth is that, in the end, what interested me more than the drawing itself were the more experimental narratives, like those of John Hankiewicz, Dave McKean, or people of that kind. In that sense, I’m mainly influenced by the way stories are constructed. They are not sequential panels where A leads to B, and B leads to C. Rather, the visual journey through the pieces is like a comic page where you can jump from the first panel to the seventh and then return to the second, and depending on the order you choose, the story will unfold in one way or another. It’s true that, for example, what you often find are different fragments of the same scene: a beginning, a middle, a climax, and a resolution, but they are often surrounded by other scenes that either influence the events in each smaller scene or simply coexist in the same universe. In that sense, I’m also very interested in the idea of a shared universe, right? That all these pieces, this entire body of work, form part of a larger story that seems to want to tell itself, one that still doesn’t know where it’s going but is starting to find its place and path. Like the characters that started simply appearing and now each one has its own backstory.





In collaboration with



RAÍCES AFUERA. PERFORMANCE CYCLE X ART MADRID'25

Art Madrid celebrates twenty years of contemporary art from March 5 to 9, 2025, at the Galería de Cristal of the Palacio de Cibeles. During Art Week, it becomes an exhibition platform for national and international galleries and artists. In this edition, with the aim of providing a space for artists working in the realm of performance art, the fair presents Raíces Afuera, a performance cycle that explores notions of belonging and the need for rootedness in a contemporary world marked by fragmentation, displacement, and disconnection. Positioned within the fair as a critical and reflective space, the project challenges the individual’s relationship with their environment, community, and sense of identity.

PERFORMANCE: LAS FRONTERAS SIEMPRE TIENEN DOS LADOS. BY ELÉONORE OZANNE

March 6 | 19:00h. Galería de Cristal of the Palacio de Cibeles.


The real true tourist experience. Johanna Failer & Eléonore Ozanne. Performance Documentation.


You leave the house, and someone holds the door for you: "Oh, sorry—thank you." You’re walking down the street, and someone comes toward you: "Uh, sorry—thank you." If I’m late, if I can’t find something, if I don’t sit in my usual spot, if I ask for help, or if I don’t know what to say… "Sorry—thank you."

How many times have we said these two words? To whom? And why? Why does your mouth not sound the same as mine?


Day In, Day Out. Eléonore Ozanne. Performance Documentation.


Las fronteras siempre tienen dos lados invites us into the author's mind to discuss boundaries. Large boundaries that frighten. Tiny boundaries that are forgotten, and all those in between, with which we must negotiate, build, or tear down.

Las fronteras siempre tienen dos lados is a work that encourages reflection on the invisible borders that shape our daily lives. Through the words "sorry" and "thank you", the author sets up a dialogue about how, in our everyday interactions, we are constantly faced with limits and distances—both physical and emotional. Every time we use these words, we are acknowledging a separation, whether it’s letting someone pass or asking for help in moments of discomfort. The work highlights how these small phrases, often repeated without much thought, serve as a way to negotiate our relationships with the world and those around us.

In this context, the boundaries explored in the work are not just geographical, but also social and personal. The barriers that separate us from others may be subtle, but they significantly affect our daily lives. Through these gestures, we are constantly building, breaking down, or accepting the limits that define our relationship with others. Las fronteras siempre tienen dos lados challenges us to question how we perceive these boundaries and how words that seem simple actually reflect the complex dynamics of our existence.


The real true tourist experience. Johanna Failer y Eléonore Ozanne. Performance Documentation.


ABOUT ELÉONORE OZANNE

Eléonore Ozanne (Corbeil-Essonnes, France, 1990) is an artist and researcher working between France and Spain. She is a doctoral candidate in Fine Arts at UPV/EHU and Université de Pau et des Pays de l’Adour. Her work focuses on the relationship between the body and borders in everyday spaces. Through displacement, the multidisciplinary artist draws the concept of borders as physical limits or invisible walls that are crossed daily. She uses her body as the central axis of her work, exploring through actions, the movement through, across, or into predetermined spaces or times.

She has been awarded numerous residencies in Spain, Mexico, and Europe, including NauEstruch and CECDA in Veracruz. She has collaborated with artists such as Pilar Albarracín and is a member of the research teams Gizartea and Alter, where she actively participates in exploring ways to understand precariousness and displacement in the era of globalization. Her work has been exhibited at international festivals and venues, such as Matadero Madrid and Cidade da Cultura de Galicia. Additionally, she has published texts on art and precariousness in publishers like Dykinson and the University of the Basque Country.



With the support of