Kreisler, Schmalfuss, Sâo Mamede, Shiras and Kur Art Galleries

Since the beginning of the last century, especially after the important Russian Constructivism movement and the mythical Bauhaus School, there have been many creators who have continued working on geometric patterns either by their infinite combinations and artistic, although sometimes purely aesthetic, social or conceptual potential. In this new edition of Art Madrid you can enjoy a very particular scene of the most modern geometric abstract art.

Carmen Otero, "Reconstrucción 7", cedar wood and polychrome, 2018. Galería Kreisler.

In this sense, the works of five artists stand out within the selection presented by the Kreisler Gallery (Madrid). The work of Ramón Urbán is marked by a pure and resounding formal synthesis, essentiality always impregnated by a strong emotional character that pieces like “Sigo en la sombra lleno de luz” (2018) shows, presented in an accurate dialogue with the sculptures of the series "Reconstructión" (2018) by Carmen Otero. Sculpted in some of the most beautiful woods, they are works in which the designs of the Bauhaus School resonate -now more than ever in consonance with Alma Siedhoff-Buscher's famous designs- here embodied in modular portraits that the artist composes and decomposes delicately.

Juan Gerstl, "La alcachofa", aluminium with direct UV printing, 2018. Galería Kreisler.

Very different are the formal investigations of Miki (Guillermo Gutiérrez), oriented towards the dominance of the spatial properties of the void: his monochromatic bronzes are rhythmic, whimsical and present twisting forms. Also geometrical and apparently volumetric are the works of Juan Gerstl, while the paintings by Gerard Fernández Rico capture fluid evoking. Kreisler also includes in its proposal personal works, very characterized by a narrative component, of two artists: on the one hand, the daily dreamed stories of Liliana Golubinsky, and on the other, the more colourful and amusing, made by the versatile Sawe.

Willi Siber, "Wall object", lacquered multiple pieces, 2016. Galería Schmalfuss.

More geometric creations are presented with Schmalfuss (Berlin), a gallery that presents some of the celebrated “objects” and more recent works by Willi Siber, always lacquered and bright. Equally radiant are the steel sculptures by Carlo Borer, with rounded, sensual, even sometimes voluptuous shapes, in which the spectator will be able to find his distorted reflection, similar to those presented by Jörg Bach, works composed from energy centres to which their volumetric termination always return.

Thomas Röthel, "Drehung", steel, 2015. Galería Schmalfuss.

A very different way of working industrial materials is that of sculptor Thomas Röthel, more interested in the rectilinear profiles, most of the times interrupted by distorted and curved elements that question the rational logic. In addition, in the Schmalfuss space you can see the expressionist paintings of the painter Cristina Canale; and the latest sculptures by Oliver Czarnetta, mysterious stories encapsulated in resin in which he reflects once more on the passing of time and our ways of perception.

Georg Scheele

Rose, 2018

Marble

153 x 70cm

Susana Chasse

No Land. No Thing #04, 2018

Acrylic and graphite on MDF

140 x 140cm

The São Mamede Gallery (Lisbon / Oporto) arrives at Art Madrid with a wide abstract and geometric languages proposal. Some of these are sculptures in marble by Georg Scheele and Matthias Contzen, minimalist abstractions of nature by Scheele and more organic and meticulous works by Contzen. Thousands of either steel rods or piano strings make up the structural pieces of David Moreno that, although volumetric as the artist himself affirms, are pieces made “in the purpose of drawing sculptures”. The pictorial commitment of the Portuguese gallery is also led by abstraction: recent works such as Susana Chasse or Rui Tavares, centered in the line, the layout and the possibilities of a small color palette, together with the paintings of Gil Maia, where the palette is extended and the textures become leading roles. São Mamede Gallery proposal is closed with two more symbolic and very different authors: the gestural González Bravo and the more dreamlike Ana Maria.

Nanda Botella, "Grietas, franjas y color", mix media, 2018. Shiras Galería.

Shiras Galería (Valencia) also offers quite a broad exhibit that consists of the works of six artists from Valencia. In its space, you will see the iron pieces of one of the pioneers of the so-called New Spanish Sculpture, Miquel Navarro. An artist undoubtedly connected with the creators of the Avant-garde. Through their work, we can delve into their personal and distinctive vertical geometrical precision. The latest works by Nanda Botella are also determined by vertical compositions; while the expressive brushstroke of Juan Olivares appears to disrupt all this order. The pictorial gesture, the brushing or scraping, passionate “emotional traces” dominate his colourful paintings, more recently also decomposed and framed in methacrylate.

Juan Olivares, "Sin Título", vinyl paint on heavyweight paper, 2018. Shiras Galería.

The diverse proposal of Shiras is completed with three very different painters. On the one hand, the essentiality of the round shapes, dominated by flat colours, which continue to distinguish the oils made by the great painter Rosa Torres.On the other hand, we have the oil paintings of José Saborit, landscapes of essential horizons where the painter demonstrates his excellent ability to capture atmospheres. And finally, the gallery presents Horacio Silva’s paintings on sheet metal, a symbolic approach in which the author highlights the sensitive qualities of this cold material.

Íñigo Arregi, "Sin Título", weathering steel, 2018. Kur Art Gallery.

Perhaps the most absolute geometric proposal is that of Kur Art Gallery (Guipúzcoa), featuring only local artists, great followers of the unique Basque creation of the twentieth century. We will see the volumetric collages, works in weathering steel, of Íñigo Arregi, canvases in which he continues to investigate the ways in which geometric forms are interconnected and interwoven. Likewise, the zinc pieces of Iñaki Olazaba are presented, absolute in their presence as in their contours; also part of the sculptural work of the landscape painter Aitor Etxeberría. Kur closes its exhibit for Art Madrid with two painters: J. Ramón Elorza, of which they present some of the more expressive works, featuring floating geometric objects; and Bingen de Pedro, who will surprise us again with his architectural trompe l'oeil. As the artist explained, when working on several canvases at the same time, contaminations arise between them, revealing relationships born from the way in which he orders and places the canvases, a random method that provides the final paintings with an impressive volume.

In short, an extensive group of artists that work from geometry and that we can enjoy in this unique occasion in the new Art Madrid edition.

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.