Like the collectable journals, the beginning of the school course, the inscriptions in the gym and a great list of new purposes that usually meet in September, this month also marks the beginning of the new season in the art world. Museums, galleries and cultural centres reorganise their calendar to shake summer off and face fall with a renewed schedule. And so that nobody gets surprises, we bring you some of the most interesting activities that the new course holds for us.

CANIDO (FERROL)

Las Meninas de Canido returns with its 11th edition, from August 31st to September 2nd. Since the launch of the idea in 2008, the project has gained in quality and recognition. The artist Eduardo Hermida is the promoter of this initiative that was born to revitalise the most depressed areas of the Canido neighbourhood, in Ferrol, especially affected by the crisis and the change of business model that had left the industrial fabric of the place very weakened. After ten years of work, not only part of the activity has been recovered, but the neighbourhood has become a benchmark in the urban art landscape. Around 2000, artists from Taiwan, Slovenia, Poland, Brazil, Syria, Ethiopia, Germany or France, as well as from Spain, have passed through Canido. The name of the festival responds to one of its working guidelines: artists must be inspired by this famous painting of Velázquez for their works and recreate variations that will remain forever on the facades of the city. As the organisers say: "Las Meninas de Canido is a triumph of artistic talent as a vehicle of communication and a foothold for the solution of urban needs." Last year, besides, there was an enormous expectation when a work attributed to Banksy appeared in one of the murals, although the artist denied it. For the festival, this author is an undeniable reference, and in homage, they reserve each edition a unique space under the claim “Banksy, in Canido we have a wall reserved for you”. It may appear this year…

Cartel “(Fe)meninas de Canido 2019” (detalle) María Maquieira

PHOTOGRAPHY IN MADRID

The Fundación Telefónica Space organises the workshop “Son ciudad” by the photographer Consuelo Bautista. This course takes place from September 11th to 13th, from 5 pm to 8 pm and is aimed at experienced professional or amateur photographers. Hand in hand with the artist, participants will take a tour of urban photography and the power of communication that city images can have, also reviewing the work of other authors such as Wiliam Klein. After a more theoretical first session, it is time to put into practice the concepts worked and the vision of the attendees to develop a project around street photography and the creation of micro-stories with the characters of urban life.

PROYECTOR FESTIVAL

From September 11th to 22nd, Madrid opens its arms to video-creation to host the 12th edition of the PROYECTOR Festival. On this occasion, 14 spaces distributed throughout the city will host this large program for a video art immersion. The agenda incorporates visits to collections, curated cycles of projections, workshops, masterclasses, professional meetings, guided tours... There is no excuse to get to know this discipline that every year gains new followers. Contemporary video creation offers an immense field of exploration that attracts numerous artists, in addition to using a language adapted to the consumption habits of today's society. The power of the moving image and its use for the elaboration of a new contemporary discourse will surprise us with a program of activities designed for all audiences.

Lien Cheng Wang, “Reading Plan”

FESTIVAL OPEN HOUSE

In its 5th edition, the Architecture and City Festival will have the collaboration of more than 100 spaces that will open their doors to the public on the weekend of September 28th and 29th. It is the perfect occasion to get to know some hidden corners of buildings of enormous interest that remain habitually closed to the public. For lovers of architecture, design, interior design, art and history this is an unavoidable event. Last year, visits overpassed the records, and there were long waiting lists, so stay tuned for registration.

BOTIN CENTRE

On September 9th and 10th, the Botín Centre organises the second edition of its “Meeting on Science, Art and Creativity”. These sessions bring together professionals from different branches of knowledge to discuss the similarities that exist in creative artistic processes and scientists. In this way, the similarities between the two spheres can be noticed, and the influence that art and science have on each other can be observed. Concepts such as the golden ratio, art and fractal mathematics, the aesthetics of structures subject to tensegrity or the fascinating reaction of the brain to art and music will be discussed. As Pedro García Barreno, director of the meeting explains, “the speakers will present how artistic beauty has penetrated the scientific theories and the design of the machines, while the artists have incorporated scientific ideas and technological advances in their creative processes".

ALCALÁ 31 SHOWROOM AND REINA SOFÍA MUSEUM

To accompany the exhibition that the Reina Sofía Museum dedicates to the Hispanic-Brazilian artist Sara Ramo, Sala Alcalá 31 organises a parallel exhibition that opens on September 12th under the title "The fall and other forms of life". This exhibition focuses on a site-specific project created by the author for the room and revolves around the idea of ​​simulation and appearance. For its part, the Reina Sofía Museum collects a part of her most extensive work, with pieces of video, installation, sculpture and collage. Sara Ramo always considers the position of the individual in their context and the maintenance of the established standards. This permanent questioning of the status quo soaks its pieces and seeks to open an internal dialogue with the viewer. In the exhibition "lindalocaviejabruja" Ramo works the role of women in our society and explores their domestic or daily context with works that feed on numerous references, even to incorporate absurd objects that produce a disconcerting effect.

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.