The artists and their works move narrative discourses presented before us with an expansive effect. Although inhabiting a geographical space, belonging to a specific social class, and having specialized training... are factors that define their work. Others, uncontrollable by the hand of flesh and blood, can change their perspective on life forever. This is precisely what happens with the creators who come to Art Madrid from further away, and we would say, those who have ventured across from the other side of the sea:

Ana Margarita Ramirez, Selva Blanca (2022) Galería Luisa Pita ©

Adrián Socorro, Matanzas, (Cuba), 1979. Collage Habana; Ana Margarita Ramírez, Caracas, (Venezuela), 1974. Galería Luisa Pita; David Planas, San Antonio De Los Baños, La Habana, (Cuba), 1976. Galería Luisa Pita; Evangelina Esparza, Rosario, (Argentina), 1980. DDR. Art Gallery; Fabio Camarotta, Buenos Aires, (Argentina), 1969. Art Lounge Gallery; Gustavo Díaz Sosa, Sagua La Grande, (Cuba), 1983. Galería BAT Alberto cornejo; Isabel Ruiz, Montevideo, (Uruguay), 1959. Nuno Sacramento Arte Contemporânea; Isabela Puga, Caracas, (Venezuela), 1997. Galería BAT Alberto cornejo; Marlene Stamm, Vacaria, São Paulo, (Brasil), 1961. Trema arte contemporânea; Mono Cieza, Argentina, 1969. Fousion Gallery. Roger Sanguino, Maracay, Venezuela, 1968. DDR. Art Gallery; Roldán Lauzán Eiras, La Habana, (Cuba), 1987. Collage Habana; Willy Ramos, Pueblo Bello, (Colombia), 1954. Galería Espiral; Yasiel Elizagaray, Sancti Spíritus, (Cuba), 1987. Collage Habana.

Adrián Socorro, “Flor” 2022. Collage Habana ©

A fair is, as you know, a window to the art market and a springboard for the thoughts and actions of those dedicated to creation. Art Madrid is. It is window and mirror. It is the regular appointment in which galleries and artists contribute and place their vision and interaction with the production of meanings in the hands of the public. Photography, drawing, painting, and sculpture are the most present manifestations in this edition. Discursively, they would come to answer that much-discussed question of what is art and what is not. But this time, the questioning is directed by the constant search for a polyphonic feeling, which brings together voices as different as they are authentic, around the figure of the artist who moves, who provides and directs the work in the movement. Whether in a temporary or permanent stay, the action of movement and migration as casuistry forever surround the exercise of creation.

As an art fair, we are interested in setting our sights on the production built from Latin America and the Caribbean, which has taken root in some way in our context. With increasing flow, artists such as those mentioned above move to other territories looking for other forms of life, and other experiences, thus articulating scenarios that give meaning to the messages that their works are capable of transmitting. Whether in an obvious way or permeated by some lyrical, poetic veil, raising the flags of denunciation or the activation of suspicion, they recount the impact that the change experience has left on their vision of the world. At this time, as the theoretician Néstor García Canclini would say, post and multi, more or less sophisticated repetition does not transcend. Attention is deserved by those positions that underline the differences and critically assess the uncertainty of postmodernity.

Isabel Ruiz, “Caída de agua” 2019. Nuno Sacramento arte contemporanea©

We ask ourselves, then, if the placidity of a landscape, the expansion of painting as a critical exercise, the rebuke of individuality, the struggle to build one's own space, and the polyphony of identity, which are, in this framework, an extension of Latin America and the Caribbean should speak from a single place. We think not. We dream of the possibility of being not only a mirror of current events but also a window of access to questioning. To be, above all, the right place for artists who allow themselves to take risks, venture out, and originate the birth of a fertile change in the land in which they reap their legacy.

The practice of the collective DIMASLA (Diana + Álvaro) is situated at a fertile intersection between contemporary art, ecological thinking, and a philosophy of experience that shifts the emphasis from production to attention. Faced with the visual and material acceleration of the present, their work does not propose a head-on opposition, but rather a sensitive reconciliation with time, understood as lived duration rather than as a measure. The work thus emerges as an exercise in slowing down, a pedagogy of perception where contemplating and listening become modes of knowledge.

In the work of DIMASLA (Diana + Álvaro), the territory does not function as a framework but rather as an agent. The landscape actively participates in the process, establishing a dialogical relationship reminiscent of certain eco-critical currents, in which subjectivity is decentralized and recognized as part of a broader framework. This openness implies an ethic of exposure, which is defined as the act of exposing oneself to the climate, the elements, and the unpredictable, and this means accepting vulnerability as an epistemological condition.

The materials—fabrics, pigments, and footprints—serve as surfaces for temporary inscriptions and memories, bearing the marks of time. The initial planning is conceived as an open hypothesis, allowing chance and error to act as productive forces. In this way, the artistic practice of DIMASLA (Diana + Álvaro) articulates a poetics of care and being-with, where creating is, above all, a profound way of feeling and understanding nature.

In a historical moment marked by speed and the overproduction of images, your work seems to champion slowness and listening as forms of resistance. Could it be said that your practice proposes a way of relearning time through aesthetic experience?

Diana: Yes, but more than resistance or vindication, I would speak of reconciliation—of love. It may appear slow, but it is deliberation; it is reflection. Filling time with contemplation or listening is a way of feeling. Aesthetic experience leads us along a path of reflection on what lies outside us and what lies within.

The territory does not appear in your work as a backdrop or a setting, but as an interlocutor. How do you negotiate that conversation between the artist’s will and the voice of the place, when the landscape itself participates in the creative process?

Álvaro: For us, the landscape is like a life partner or a close friend, and naturally this intimate relationship extends into our practice. We go to visit it, to be with it, to co-create together. We engage in a dialogue that goes beyond aesthetics—conversations filled with action, contemplation, understanding, and respect.

Ultimately, in a way, the landscape expresses itself through the material. We respect all the questions it poses, while at the same time valuing what unsettles us, what shapes us, and what stimulates us within this relationship.

The Conquest of the Rabbits I & II. 2021. Process.

In your approach, one senses an ethic of exposure: exposing oneself to the environment, to the weather, to others, to the unpredictable. To what extent is this vulnerability also a form of knowledge?

Diana: For us, this vulnerability teaches us a great deal—above all, humility. When we are out there and feel the cold, the rain, or the sun, we become aware of how small and insignificant we are in comparison to the grandeur and power of nature.

So yes, we understand vulnerability as a profound source of knowledge—one that helps us, among many other things, to let go of our ego and to understand that we are only a small part of a far more complex web.

Sometimes mountains cry too. 2021. Limestone rockfall, sun, rain, wind, pine resin on acrylic on natural cotton canvas, exposed on a blanket of esparto grass and limestone for two months.. 195 cm x 130 cm x 3 cm.

Your works often emerge from prolonged processes of exposure to the environment. Could it be said that the material—the fabrics, the pigments, the traces of the environment—acts as a memory that time writes on you as much as you write on it?

Álvaro: This is a topic for a long conversation, sitting on a rock—it would be very stimulating. But if experiences shape people’s inner lives and define who we are in the present moment, then I would say yes, especially in that sense.

Leaving our comfort zone has led us to learn from the perseverance of plants and the geological calm of mountains. Through this process, we have reconciled ourselves with time, with the environment, with nature, with ourselves, and even with our own practice. Just as fabrics hold the memory of a place, we have relearned how to pay attention and how to understand. Ultimately, it is a way of deepening our capacity to feel.

The fox and his tricks. 2022. Detail.

To what extent do you plan your work, and how much space do you leave for the unexpected—or even for mistakes?

Diana: Our planning is limited to an initial hypothesis. We choose the materials, colours, places, and sometimes even the specific location, but we leave as much room as possible for the unexpected to occur. In the end, that is what it is really about: allowing nature to speak and life to unfold. For us, both the unexpected and mistakes are part of the world’s complexity, and within that complexity we find a form of natural beauty.