The power of emptiness in visual arts

Where silence becomes visible.

“Nothing is not a hole; it’s a field of possibilities.” — John Cage

Some people fear emptiness — the silence, the blank space, the pause.
But in visual arts, emptiness is anything but absence: it’s the place where the work breathes.

Malevich painted his White on White as if to say, “I no longer need anything for something to exist.”
Rothko immersed us in color fields that are really portals of silence.
And Agnes Martin proved that delicacy can be as radical as the most violent gesture.

Emptiness isn’t a lack of expression.
It’s the moment before the word, before the color — that fragile instant when the eye is still learning how to see.

In the end, emptiness is where everything begins.
Without it, gesture has nowhere to land, and thought has nowhere to echo.

👉 Café conclusion: emptiness isn’t the opposite of art — it’s its breath.

Small mistakes, big beginnings

The beginning of a language still reinventing itself.

“Art lives off accidents too — sometimes the calendar takes the lead.”

The Restaurante Galeria recently shared the poster for my exhibition First Expressions.
Everything’s right — well, almost. Just one tiny detail: the month.

The show actually changes in December, not November.
But even that small mistake made sense — because what’s coming next is, in truth, a natural continuation.

First Expressions gathers my first explorations in Abstract Expressionism — raw color, instinctive gestures, energy still finding its rhythm.
Now, in December, comes Minimal Expressions / Maximal Statements, where those impulses evolve — more contained, more deliberate, but still alive.

Between one and the other lies a journey: from explosion to synthesis, from gesture to structure, from urgency to silence.
Same language — just spoken differently.

👉 Café conclusion: sometimes even the calendar’s mistakes help tell the right story.

Minimalist sculpture: simple or deceptive?

 Refined lines, silence in wood and iron.

Refined lines, silence in wood and iron.

“Less is more.” — Ludwig Mies van der Rohe

Minimalist sculpture may seem, at first glance, simple. Clean lines, stripped forms, no unnecessary decoration. But is it really that straightforward?

👉 The illusion of simplicity
A casual glance might think: “Anyone could do this.” Yet the hard part is reaching the essential without falling into monotony. Cutting, reducing, refining… until only what truly matters remains.

👉 The dialogue between void and form
In sculpture, empty space isn’t absence — it’s part of the work. The void shapes the volume, creates tension, and suggests presences that are not there but can almost be felt.

👉 Why deceptive?
Because behind every “simple” line lies a set of radical choices: what stays and what disappears. Formal economy demands an almost obsessive attention.

👉 Want to see how minimalism takes shape?
Browse the In the gallery to discover the full collection.
And if you’d like to explore the pieces (still) available for purchase, visit the Minimal Abstract Figurativism page

👉 The café conclusion
Minimalism isn’t laziness. It’s risk, precision, and trust in letting the essential speak for itself.