Mónica Egido. Courtesy of the artist.

INTERCESSIONS. PERFORMANCE CYCLE X TARA FOR WOMEN

Art Madrid celebrates its 19th edition from March 6 to 10, 2024 at the Galería de Cristal of the Palacio de Cibeles. During the Art Week, Art Madrid becomes an exhibition platform for national and international galleries and artists. With the intention of creating a space of expression for emerging artists, our fair has joined forces with the Tara For Women Foundation, which, in its mission to empower and strengthen talented women, becomes a collaborator of Art Madrid's renewed Parallel Program with the Performance Cycle: Intercessions X Tara For Women.

PERFORMANCE VACÍO. FROM THE SERIES FOMO. MÓNICA EGIDO

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

FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) is a diagnostic label under which people of the same generation suffer high levels of anxiety and stress due to the fear of not complying with everything that society imposes; they live in a constant state of alert that leads to a deterioration of their physical and mental health.

The social demands imposed, together with the maximum development of capitalism, consumerism and productivism at all levels, make us human beings self-imposed to take advantage of every second, forgetting the need to stop, rest, get bored and "not to do".

Still from the FOMO Project. 2023.

This project aims to give visibility to this social problem and create a space for debate to talk about an issue that affects thousands of people. We must ask what is the origin of the desire to be connected to what others are doing at all times, and what are its effects at the individual level, from a neuroscientific and psychological point of view; and what are its effects at the social level, from an anthropological and philosophical point of view.

Vacío reflects on the feeling of dissatisfaction and constant unhappiness suffered by many people of the millennial generation. With this performance, Mónica Egido claims that a profession or career does not define us as people, that we can be mediocre once more, and in general stop filling those "empty" spaces of content and constant experiences, to stop doing and just BEING.

Still from the FOMO Project. 2023.

ABOUT THE ARTIST

MÓNICA EGIDO. Salamanca, 1994

Mónica Egido (Salamanca, 1994) is a visual artist with a background in physiotherapy and specialization in neuroscience of chronic pain and obstetrics. She has excelled in the field of photography, being selected for Futures Photography 2023 and awarded a grant by PhotoEspaña. Her work, exhibited in various spaces in Europe, addresses different issues of neuroscience in relation to health, using art as a mechanism for dissemination, as in her latest project FOMO, where she talks about the impact of permanent anxiety on physical and mental health. Her piece Vacío reflects on the feeling of dissatisfaction and unhappiness that many people of the millennial generation suffer from.

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.