Carolina Serrano at the studio

Carolina Serrano (Portugal, 1994) lives and works between Cologne and Lisbon.

Serrano's work and research revolves around the temporal dimension of sculpture. The artist's sculptural thinking collapses, recurrently, with the notions of light and shadow; with the ideas of destruction and appearance; and with the duality between interior and exterior and between full and empty space.

Serrano is interested in the concept of the restricted, inaccessible and therefore unknown “place”, and in the uncertainty of the extent of it. In recent years Carolina Serrano has been working almost exclusively with paraffin wax because of its plastic possibilities, as is the reflection of the light, but above all because of the theoretical and conceptual possibilities that this material can originate in the field of the observer's imagination. Serrano is also interested in the idea of a potential spiritual transmutation and transubstantiation of the sculptural object.

Carolina Serrano

I made a promise in eternity, 2021

Parafina

221 x 61.5cm

What inspires you when you create?

To my work, I’m trying to understand and think about what it is to be a human being, what it is to live in the world inside a body, and also, I’m trying to think about the notions of time and space and opposite ideas.

What are you working on recently?

I recently finished my first solo exhibition in Germany where I live now and in 2022 I’m going to prepare a group exhibition in Germany as well. Also a solo exhibition in Lisbon.

Carolina Serrano

Os amantes, 2020

Parafina

150 x 130cm

Tell us about your creative process

About my creative process, I normally go to my notebooks where I draw and write some ideas about mental images and sculptures that I see on my mind.

When I have an exhibition or project to work with I go to these notebooks and when the sculpture is ready to be alive (let’s say) I materialise it. Sometimes I do variations of the sculptures while in the studio. And my dreams and ideas are always present throughout my creative process.

You are participating for the first time in the fair, what do you expect from Art Madrid?

What I expect from Art Madrid’22 is that my work can be seen and appreciated. People can find the space and the time to look at my works, because in a fair there are a lot of booths and artworks, so I think that every visitor has to find the moment and create the relationship with the work that they like.

In your work you explore the duality between exterior and interior, full and empty space, and even light and shadow. Where does this interest in exploring and confronting opposites come from?

Opposites are completely connected with the notion of time and suffering, because time it's a human concept. Some, like Saint Augustin the medieval philosopher, believe that the evil of the world comes from the division from the real desire into conflicting desires. So the dispersion of the soul it is a division. Opposites are a great part of what it is to be a human being.

Carolina Serrano

Gume, 2021

Parafina

48 x 16cm

The color black in the history of art has always been related to some divine darkness, together with the spirituality that your works give off and the interest in an unknown and inaccessible “place”, are we in front of a search for your own type of religiosity?

I think art can make us come closer and recognize our most deepest places. So for a few seconds, I say seconds because we cannot count them, time is able to become still. And normally this happens with surprise and astonishment or with the unexpected. So yes, maybe we can reach that almost unknown and inaccessible place that we have inside us. Maybe art can have a type of spirituality and religiosity.

The artist Carolina Serrano participates for the first time in the fair with Galerie Alex Serra, together with the artists Katja Davar, Mário Macilau, René Tavares and Rui Sanches.

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.

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