Albert Bonet

Winner of the International Painting Prize in the Realism category at the latest edition of the FIABCN (Barcelona International Art Fair), Albert Bonet's work is characterized by an acid social criticism inspired by his closest surroundings. Through this interpretation of the world around him, this young artist shows both conceptual and technical maturity, which interferes with his work by playing with POP themes and with a markedly realistic style.

Artistically, he has been trained at the Barcelona Academy of Art. He has been selected in the DKV Young Art Contest ''Fresh Art'', where he was awarded an honorable mention at the Polytechnic University of Valencia (2015). This promising artist has two individual exhibitions to his credit, the last one last November at the Mutuo Gallery in Barcelona. He now exhibits for the first time in Art Madrid at the hands of Inéditad Galería (Barcelona).

Interview:

Tell us about your creative process

My creative process always starts with an idea, which I can come up with while walking down the street or in the bathroom of my colleague's house doing my business, and then I mature that idea for a few weeks, giving it shape, sketching a lot, and then I meet up with models, who are always people around me, my colleagues or people who are close to me, I do a photo session with them and then I edit those photos until I make a photographic montage that's quite close to the idea I had initially, always taking it to my own territory, adding social criticism, which, given the state of things in the world, is a lot of work. The last step is to paint in oils, give it shape, take the oils and lock yourself up at home until the idea comes out.

Albert Bonet

1984, 2022

Oil on canvas

162 x 130cm

What are you working on at the moment?

Right now I'm currently working on the piece I have behind me, which is a painting that I'm going to present at Art Madrid'22 with the gallery Inéditad, and the truth is that it's been quite a challenge because I have to finish it on time and I've locked myself up at home to paint for seven or eight hours a day until it's ready. Otherwise, it won't arrive in time for the catalogue and I have to make sure it gets there. Apart from that, this year is packed with a few urban art festivals with huge graffiti, a few exhibitions in a number of places. I'll keep you posted. There are several commissions for paintings, so the year is off to a great start, full of energy. Looking forward to it.

What do you expect from your participation in Art Madrid?

Exhibiting at Art Madrid is a dream come true for me. I've been locked up at home for a long time, mentally beating myself up, painting all day long, and to be able to take my work out of Barcelona for me is already a huge dream come true. It fills me with enthusiasm and energy to continue painting and I hope to give visibility to my work, above all outside Barcelona, and step by step, to be able to make a living from it.

Albert Bonet

La Duquesa de Sants, 2021

Oil on canvas

81 x 59cm

What inspires you when creating?

When it comes to creating, what inspires me most is my surroundings, all my surroundings. The places I go to, the objects I use every day in my house, my friends, my mates' houses, the city where I live, the cities I go to most frequently, everything that surrounds me. My everyday life is what inspires me when I create.

You are a multidisciplinary artist who started out in graffiti and tattooing. What have these two disciplines contributed to your work as a painter?

Graffiti, tattooing and painting are artistic facets that complement each other perfectly because you can apply concepts from each of them to the other. In the end they all have an individual magic that fills me a lot and I never want to stop doing any of them.

Albert Bonet participates for the first time in Art Madrid with Inéditad gallery, along side with Jaime Sancorlo, Jordi Diaz Alàma, Lautaro Oliver, Núria Farré y Raúl Álvarez Jiménez.

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.