In Conversation With Albano Hernandez

Artist Interview

Tell us about your favourite hang out spot in London or elsewhere? This could be a bar/restaurant, a club, a cultural institution or anywhere you enjoy spending your time.


I enjoy sitting on the steps in front of the National Gallery. Trafalgar Square feels like an oasis in the heart of London, where tourists wander, street artists perform, and people flow in all directions. It’s a fascinating spot to pause and watch life unfold, while the history of art lingers just behind us.

 

What’s your favourite London gallery (you decipher the criteria)? Maybe it has the best arts
programme, or the most interesting community.

 

It would be an easy question if you asked me about Madrid, where the Prado Museum has no rival. But selecting just one gallery from London's vast cultural program is an arduous task. I think Hayward Gallery is developing a fresh, provocative and strong programme, with ambitious and well-curated exhibitions. There are many public and private galleries that are doing fabulous work in London.

 

Can you name your favourite undiscovered or emerging artist (the more obscure the better!). How did you discover them and what do you like about their work?


I would bet on Brian de Jesús, a Venezuelan artist whose work hybridizes Tuki culture with his everyday life in London. When I talk about young or emerging artists I look at the attitude, because talent is useless if it is not supported by a foundation of hard work and constant commitment. Brian has all the characteristics to become a great artist.

 

Can you share a bit about your artistic journey and how you arrived at your current style or medium?

 

My father is a landscape painter, so I’ve been surrounded by paint and brushes since childhood. From him, I learned numerous techniques and skills that have helped me bring my conceptual ideas to life over the years. During my two years at the RCA, I stepped away from oils, acrylics, and brushes, instead developing a practice where I paint with recycled materials and a meat slicer. Why? Because painting, like everything else, is constantly evolving. My growing concerns about materiality and consumerism pushed me in this direction, allowing me to flow with the process and put in the hard work required to explore new possibilities.

 

What themes or concepts drive your creative process and influence your work?


Absurdity - Anthropocene - Archaeology - Art Market - Ascetism - Assemblage / Disassemblage - Assembly Line - Ávila - Axis Mundi - Body - Brushstroke - Circular Economy - Commodification - Commodity fetishism - Consumption - Corruption - Dissemination - Distribution - Ecology - Fragility - Fragmentation - Horizontality - Im-purity - Landscape - Machine + Robot + AI - Mapping - Materiality - Meat - Mediterranean Culture - Mountains - Mysticism - Perception - Plastiglomerate - Pollution - Post-capitalist Economy - Production -Ruralism - Sacredness - Simulacra / Simulation - Strata - Sustainability - “The Painting Factory” - The politics of artistic labour - The politics of food - Undoing - Upcycling.

 

How does your background or personal experience impact the art you create?


I firmly believe that honesty is an essential characteristic when creating a strong body of work. In this sense, I try to follow the classic motto "Know yourself" (Greek: Γνῶθι σαυτόν, gnōthi sauton), because only from our deep inner knowledge can we react formally and conceptually to our context in a coherent way. Personally, it is only by working hard over the years that I have been able to eliminate the anecdotal elements of my work and focus on the simple but complex things. When I discovered that I am a Highly Sensitive Person, I understood why I had a predilection for creating monochrome paintings with large fields of color where the mind could take a break. Another example is that the less time I spend in my hometown, the more I understand the influence that Ávila and its mystical tradition have on my approach to materiality and simplicity.

 

Are there particular emotions or responses you hope to evoke in viewers of your art?


Making art is a way of engaging with the world, an attempt to understand it more deeply. My practice isn’t shaped by any single influence, but by a broad range of sources, from the commodification of painting to humanity’s relationship with the natural world. My role is to absorb this mix of information and impulses, process it, and transform it into works that respond to it, either as provocations or as evocations for the viewer. Sometimes the pieces resonate, sometimes they don’t. But as long as they evoke a reaction and prevent indifference, I consider the work a success.

 

How do you approach the use of colour, texture, and form in your practice?


With great respect. Human beings have been painting since the days of cave art, using simple yet profound elements. In the act of painting, we make countless decisions about colour, texture, form, or composition; most of which come from the subconscious. However, those that require reasoning demand deep reflection. Perhaps this is why my aesthetic has simplified over time, even as the conceptual complexity of my work has grown. For instance, I decide on all the colours I will use in a painting before I even begin working on the surface. Paradoxically, these colours aren’t chosen for their aesthetic, but for the political charge embedded in their materiality, since they are sourced from upcycled waste materials.


Are there specific artists, movements, or cultural influences that inspire your work?

 

For sure, anything can influence an artist. Specific visual artists: Liz Larner, Lee Bul, Wade Guyton, Susan Morris, Juan Uslé, Park Seo-Bo, Robert Ryman, Sarah Sze, Ignacio Iturria...
Movements: Ruralism, Ecologism, “The painting factory”, Pop art, Dansaekhwa, or minimalism among others. Cultural influences: Mainly Vettonian and Mediterranean culture.

 

Can you discuss a particular piece featured in the exhibition and the story or concept behind it?


The most relevant piece of the show is Anonymous, an installation which consists of 277 cattle ear tags, arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. These ear tags, mass-produced from plastic, serve as repositories of data, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.

 

What role does cross-disciplinarity play in your artistic practice, if any? And if not, in what ways does Palmer Gallery’s focus on cross-disciplinarity challenge your artistic practice?


My works are born from a pictorial thought and their main characteristics are those that have historically been related to painting. However, I am not a fan of labels, I am interested in the sociocultural relationships that an artwork can provoke, as well as its relationship with art history. At the end of the day, I believe that my works have a transcategorical condition by themselves. Palmer Galley's interdisciplinary program defines the gallery by contextualizing it in the now, betting on the art that will define the late 2020s.

 

Can you share a bit about your creative workspace and how it contributes to your process?


I live in Cambridge, a city that offers the perfect blend of nature, culture, and sport, all with the added benefit of a quick and easy commute to London. Currently working from home, I am able to strike a better balance between my family life and my passion for art, while also sharing that love with my young children. I feel fortunate to be close to one of Cambridge’s commons, a vibrant natural space teeming with biodiversity; ranging from cows to herons, and from towering sycamores to delicate strawberry clovers. My studio has evolved over time, shifting from the traditional setup of a painter’s workspace to something more akin to a
kitchen. Here, cooking machines and utensils coexist with fine art materials.


Are there rituals, routines or even objects that help inspire you or allow you to maintain your
artistic momentum?


I believe the core role of an artist is to observe and remain open to the world around us, to everything that surrounds us, both seen and unseen. While I have my routines, such as going to bed and waking up early, exercising, or taking walks in the mountains, the true key is in the act of looking, being present and attentive to the details of life.

 

Has the space and the industrial history of Palmer Gallery influenced the way you have presented or conceptualized your work? If so, how?


As artists, we often encounter spaces that can be less than welcoming to our work, from art fairs to private or public spaces. Exhibiting at Palmer Gallery, however, presents a unique challenge—one that I find both stimulating and rewarding. The gallery offers a wealth of possibilities, allowing for fresh curatorial ideas and different readings of the artworks. Its industrial character and expansive spaces, in particular, inspired me to create a piece like Anonymous, a work that draws on the scale and energy of the environment around it.

 

Can you share any challenges or discoveries you encountered while preparing your work for your exhibition at Palmer Gallery? How did these experiences influence your artistic decisions?


In the studio, new ideas and creations emerge daily, from the smallest drawings to larger installations. Recently, I’ve been focusing on two small-format works, for which I hand-crafted the paper myself, incorporating the leftover materials from my paintings. This process is both artisanal and delicate, requiring a subtle touch, and it’s been incredibly fulfilling. At the outset, I had many doubts about achieving the desired result, but I’ve learned that sometimes, taking risks leads to the most satisfying outcomes.


How do you see your work evolving in the future, both stylistically and thematically?


Predicting the future is a complex game, but one thing I’m certain of is that I will continue painting. In my 20 years of artistic practice (I’m 36, having started seriously at 16), I’ve never considered pursuing anything else, art is a true necessity for me. I sense that themes like memory and spirituality will remain central to my work, but I’m also excited by the possibility of what’s to come. The journey feels like it’s just beginning, and I’m eager to see where it will take me.

 

Are there specific goals or aspirations you have for your artistic career in the coming years?

 

I aspire to improve my work every day, this is frustrating enough!

January 28, 2025