Martin Blanco
Hello Dear Martin Blanco. Thank you for giving us the chance to Interview with you. You were born in Buenos Aires and now live in the quiet landscapes of Andorra. How has this journey across continents shaped the soul of your art?
It’s been a journey that began in 2001 when I moved to Barcelona, and six years later I came to Andorra — almost 19 years ago now. I believe this entire journey helped me mature as a person, simply because leaving my home country and getting to know other cultures and places led me, in the end, to find my own style.
And honestly, that happened somewhat by chance — or at least that’s how I feel.
I always say that I believe my style found me, rather than the other way around, because at a certain point I realized I was creating works with a kind of formal and visual coherence. From that moment on, I just had to continue developing certain aspects of the style, but from a much more conscious perspective.
2. Your work moves fluidly between the tactile world of graphite and oils and the intangible realm of pixels and light. What happens in your mind when your hand chooses a brush over a stylus—or the other way around?
Right now, I’m not really sure, because it has become so internalized — it’s already part of my everyday life. I’ve been drawing and painting since I was very young, and I started working in digital art in 2003. My learning curve lasted about five years before I was able to create digital works that I considered decent.
During those five years, I didn’t produce any traditional artwork, and when I decided to return to traditional media, it felt very strange, because I had developed certain habits and hand gestures from digital art that, obviously, I couldn’t replicate with a pencil on paper.
Now everything feels natural, and in fact, when I come up with new ideas for artworks, I already know whether they’ll be digital or not, depending on the kind of aesthetic I want to achieve.
3. Dalí, Michelangelo, Caravaggio — your influences are masters of emotion and form. How do you converse with these masters through your own surreal narratives?
The truth is that I consider all three of them major influences, especially on a technical and aesthetic level. I would say that the dialogue — if I may dare to call it that — lies in the fact that my way of understanding art, particularly in my relationship with the creative process, is very close to Michelangelo’s, whose approach was not playful but rather tortuous.
Caravaggio has given me that somber atmosphere of extreme contrasts that I’ve tried to capture not only in the scenery but also in the mood of the characters. And Dalí, along with surrealism, has opened a door to exploring different universes that allow me to play with the rules — especially those of composition — without losing a realistic aesthetic.
4. Technology is both muse and monster in today’s world. How do you see digital art not just as a tool, but as a language in itself?
The truth is, I see it as a tool. I’m not sure it works as a language in itself. In the end, we’re talking about pencils and brushes — whether real or virtual. What truly matters, I believe, is the hand that uses those materials.
That said, it’s true that the digital world offers a speed of execution that provides greater versatility, especially when it comes to making decisions. If something doesn’t work, you can always take a step back or simply erase a layer.
I do acknowledge, however, that photographic manipulation and the blending of digital painting are achieved in a much more fluid and natural way in a digital environment than through traditional collage. Still, I see it as a matter of materials rather than language. The language is what we, the artists, bring to it.
5. From the Guggenheim to the Louvre, your art has crossed some of the world’s most sacred artistic spaces. How did these stages echo back into your creative spirit?
Those events you mentioned were multimedia, with projections on building façades, rather than traditional exhibitions. That said, I don’t feel they have influenced my way of understanding art or my sense of creativity.
My life has always revolved around the drive to create and express what I have inside, but it hasn’t been influenced or shaped by external factors such as circumstantial recognition.
6. Your characters often inhabit dense, almost suffocating worlds. What draws you to paint discomfort so beautifully?
I believe my style is highly influenced by the kind of culture I’ve been exposed to since my teenage years. In addition to Renaissance and Baroque art, this includes horror in all its forms — movies, comics, and books — as well as heavy metal music. All of this ultimately creates a certain aesthetic and, I suppose, ways of thinking that feel comfortable within those dense and oppressive atmospheres.
Over the years, I’ve softened that aesthetic a bit, incorporating beauty as another characteristic of those characters and environments, in order to prevent the viewer’s gaze from feeling uneasy in front of one of my works — which, I must admit, were much darker in my early years.
7. You’ve said beauty is not your goal unless it serves meaning. How does this philosophy shape the way light, shadow, and form come alive in your work?
From a strictly aesthetic point of view, the way I use light and shadow is directly connected to the artistic influences that inspire me — particularly the Renaissance and the Baroque.
For me, the most important thing is that the artwork develops through a message, and that all visual elements — such as composition, color, and the contrast of light and shadow — are subordinated to the way that message is conveyed.
When I spoke about beauty, I meant that, for me, creating a piece solely with the intention of making it beautiful is not enough if it isn’t accompanied by a discourse, because I believe that beauty is a value that can define things, but it is not necessarily an intrinsic one.
8. Thirty international awards—and counting. Do these accolades add weight, wings, or something entirely different to your artistic journey?
I won’t deny that seeing my work receive recognition is always gratifying, but as I mentioned before, I try not to let that affect the way I express myself and communicate with the viewer.
Competitions, awards, and exhibitions are part of an artist’s work when it comes to promoting their creations and building a résumé. However, just as I don’t let positive news in the form of awards influence my state of mind when creating, I also don’t allow negative news — when my work isn’t selected — to affect me either.
9. Looking forward, if your next body of work could be a dream you step inside, what themes, textures, or emotions would that dream hold?
Right now, I’m starting a new series of oil paintings that will explore the themes of dreams, memories, and how these concepts intertwine. And just as there are good dreams and memories, bad memories can be comparable to nightmares.
I’m also interested in the way we construct our memories — often based on stories our parents tell us about our own lives — which shape our perception of the past, even when that perception doesn’t necessarily have a real connection to history itself.
Personal Website; www.martinblancoart.com
Instagram; www.instagram.com/martinblancoart