In his dialogue with reality—understood as an expansive living nature, and therefore never still before the artist’s pretensions—Pedro Abascal, who requires the road as much as the camera for his vital labor, has come to discover the possibility of drawing through the lens.
When I was a child, we lived in Santa Isabel, one of my grandfather’s farms. We were surrounded by trees, animals, and ravines. At that time, I did not know how to measure distance in kilometers...

It is generally understood that national museums ought to be the natural custodians of their cultural memory.
Spaces where the history of national art is presented in an ordered and intelligible form. Where foundational images can still be contemplated. Yet, primarily for reasons of funding, an increasing number of state institutions...

Perhaps since the beginning of time, yet within the landscape of contemporary visual culture, polemic, interpellation, and reply operate as devices of symbolic production that act directly upon the processes of meaning and the circulation of images. These controversies, or provocations—beyond merely situating themselves within a context that already shapes the imago—become structuring agents that reconfigure spaces of reading...

There are cities that return the gaze: they do not yield docilely to the frame, but rather address those who contemplate them. They demand a way of seeing that does not reduce, that does not foreclose. Havana, in this Dossier conceived by the Cuban photographer Pedro Abascal, appears as an entity that observes, folds, and tenses; it refuses to become a mere stage or backdrop.

I have known Pedro since 2004, perhaps even earlier, from the time I began attending the exhibitions held in the dozens of galleries and institutions of Old Havana. I do not remember how we became friends; it seems we were so before we had properly met. Pedro is one of the great Cuban photographers of the past decades. Some of his photographs would make Cartier-Bresson raise an eyebrow.

Edvard Munch was one of the most finely tuned loudspeakers of his time’s spirit—the Zeitgeist. Dostoyevsky had been one before him, and Kafka would be another later on. He belonged to that rare class of human beings God seems to have assembled in haste—leaving the skull half-finished, the sutures open, the nerves exposed—those daemons of History chosen to transmit its message to humanity.

Richard Hoare presents Edge of Light | Journeys Across a Frontier at Messum’s (London). From 7 to 30 January 2026, Messum’s (David Messum Fine Art) brings together a selection of recent works by the British painter, conceived along the Atlantic edge. The gallery frames this territory as a threshold: a place where sea and horizon blur, and light seems to force its way through skies that are dense, unstable, and perpetually in flux.

Netflix aired the final episode of Stranger Things on December 31, 2025. It coincided with the closing of an unusual and demoralizing year. A masterstroke. We will remember forever the day the Upside Down arc was sealed, Vecna definitively defeated, and Eleven’s story brought to a close—at every level: her power, and her life in the physical realm...

R10 has invited me to collaborate on his project. I understood that, in order to be attuned to the spirit of this community—eager to find a certain pleasure seasoned with a Creole inflection—one had to think carefully when choosing the subject, and also when attempting to share observations that would neither sound grandiloquent, taste of formula, nor resemble verdicts issued by juries...

The British Museum has launched a campaign to secure the Tudor Heart, an ostentatious gold pendant linked to Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon. Its aim is to prevent the object from falling into private hands and vanishing from public view.
Discovered in Warwickshire in 2019 by a metal-detecting enthusiast, the piece was automatically placed under the provisions of the Treasure Act of 1996...

It is cold in Harbin, a city located in China’s northeastern reaches. It is the capital of Heilongjiang Province, on the banks of the Songhua River. Winters here are long and severe. Nearly three quarters of its territory borders the far—and frozen—Russian Far East.
One of the qualities I most admire in the Chinese people is their practical intelligence. They perform small miracles with whatever lies at hand...

My interest in Asia does not arise from fascination, but from the recognition of a cultural sediment that resists superficial readings. China and Japan have been fundamental references in this process, both in the realm of visual arts and in that of symbolic management. Their literature and philosophy have not lost their capacity to converse with contemporaneity—not as untouchable corpora, but as tools for living thought...

In the field of iconicity—where universal icons gravitate—there are two figures who seduce me in a particular way. Because of their similarities and, above all, because of their irreconcilable differences: Marilyn Monroe and Ava Gardner. Both carry a weight so powerful, so comparable, that they keep the scale in perfect balance.

Over the past few days, we at The Annex Gallery have received the first copies of Rafael Zarza. Toda la corrida artística (The Full Artistic Bullfight). The essay was written by Hamlet Fernández Díaz, a faculty member of UNIPAM’s Graduate Program in Education. He holds a Doctor of Science in Art and a postdoctoral degree in Education, and he currently works as a professor, researcher, and art critic. His name is widely recognized across the Spanish American cultural ecosystem...

Why share an image that, from an aesthetic standpoint, I find unpleasant? Of all possible complementary color pairings, this is probably the only one I would never use in a design or in a work of artistic intent. Together—yellow-gold and cold violet—they vibrate in an unbearable way, imposing a visual rhetoric saturated with meaning. Perhaps because, over centuries, they have been associated with institutions now perceived as decadent, with a solemnity that fails to justify itself.

It is not the same to watch a cyclone from the window of your house as from an orbital station. They are two entirely different spectacles. When I was a child, it filled me with tremendous excitement. I had eyes only for its ravaging gusts. I did not notice my father sweating as he nailed boards over the windows. That is the distortion produced by perspective. From the distance established by innocence, catastrophe becomes nothing more than a majestic spectacle.


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