
Georg Massanés, ‘Red Poppies 6,’ 2025. Mixed media on paper, 100 x 100 cm (39.4 x 39.4 in). Photo courtesy of the artist.
“Art is never something that is unloaded. It always has a meaning,” says Georg Massanés. For the Catalan artist, abstraction is not a retreat from reality but a deepened language that invites viewers to navigate a world beyond literal representation. “Art conveys ideas,” he reflects, “but also images or ideas through images.”
His approach is rooted in conceptual practice, drawing from diverse media and traditions to produce work that resists conventional narrative while channeling symbolism, memory, and introspection. Through nonlinear forms, poetic gestures, and symbolic fragments, Massanés constructs visual experiences that combine lyricism and critical thought.
Born in Germany to a Catalan father and German mother, Massanés moved to Barcelona, where he studied painting and mural techniques at Escola Massana and earned a degree in art history from the University of Barcelona. His training, coupled with formative years working in the engraving workshop of Tristan Barbarà, shaped his sensitivity to material, form, and the philosophical underpinnings of art. Massanés has exhibited widely in Spain, Germany, France, and Morocco, and recently participated in “Echos de Barcelone” at ART VEVEY’s inaugural exhibition in Switzerland, showcasing his works, including “Spring” and “Autoretrato Parcial,” among others.
From an art critic’s lens, Massanés’ paintings offer a calming, minimalist clarity. They embrace what the ART VEVEY curators call “abstract realism” — works that appear simple yet unfold layers of symbolism. His subdued palette and deliberate compositional choices leave space for viewers to breathe, ponder, and interpret.
In an interview with Global Voices, Georg Massanés speaks about the symbolic tension between light and obscurity, the influence of conceptualism, the poetic emptiness in his recent works, and how personal grief shaped the haunting “Autoretrato Parcial.”

Georg Massanes. Photo courtesy of the artist.
Omid Memarian (OM): Your work often moves beyond traditional representation into abstraction. How do you see this shift as a reaction to realist aesthetics, and does it serve as a conceptual critique of cultural conventions? (You’ve described art as a “language used to convey ideas” rather than images.)
Georg Massanés (GM): It’s been a long time since painting served only a realistic purpose. Today, art combines images from different sources to build a vision of the world — not just the world as it appears, but the world as the artist personally experiences it. We now perceive reality through so many screens and forms of media that what we see is no longer simply what’s in front of us. So, I don’t know if it’s a shift toward abstraction or just the combination of elements that move the work beyond conventional representation.
Art conveys ideas, sometimes directly, sometimes through images. That’s why I’ve always been drawn to conceptual art. Not necessarily for its philosophical or political content, but because it expands what art can be. It allows for the use of materials not traditionally tied to painting or sculpture, and for methods of display that are themselves meaningful. Art is never neutral. There is always a thought behind it, whether political, lyrical, or poetic. That too, for me, is a kind of conceptual position.
OM: In pieces like “Autoretrato Parcial” (2021), you fragment the self. Can you speak to how abstraction assists in symbolizing inner dualities, such as the tension between light and obscurity or the battle of gods and demons inside us?
GM: I wouldn’t say abstraction, as I understand it in painting, is directly about inner dualities or fragmentation. From Cubism onward, there was a kind of spatial and figurative fragmentation, meant, I think, to show multiple aspects at once. But since the historical vanguards, artists have been searching for a language that lets them present symbolic elements without relying on realism. So yes, there are fragments, but they don’t necessarily tell a clear story — unless you know how to read them or have the hints. The meaning is there, but it’s not always immediately accessible or narrative in the traditional sense.

Georg Massanés, ‘Spring 3,’ 2025. Mixed media on canvas. 200 x 180 cm (78.7 x 70.9 in). Photo courtesy of the artist.
OM: Your work draws on “vanitas” (the fleeting nature of life) and “memento mori” (reminders of death). How do these themes of mortality shape pieces like ‘Spring’ (2025)?
GM: “Spring Gaudy II” was an ironic title; the painting is now simply called “Spring. Flowers are beautiful but short-lived, which ties directly to the idea of “memento mori” — they won’t last. The painting includes elements found in traditional representations of mortality. I’ve created a series of works that seem contradictory — some dark, some light — to symbolically reflect the beauty and tragedy of life. I don’t see my work as exactly abstract. The most abstract it gets is in the absence of a clear narrative. My paintings are informal — representative, but not in a conventional or narrative way.
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OM: How have your academic experiences shaped your interest in conceptual content over formal representation, and do they continue to influence your mark‑making today?
MG: I studied painting at Escola Massana in Barcelona in the early 1980s, where abstraction had a strong presence. While I specialized in painting and mural techniques, the focus was mostly on painting itself. At that time, art schools in Catalonia encouraged non-narrative and abstract approaches. That definitely influenced my early work: I learned to avoid clear storytelling and focus more on the act of painting. But over time, I moved away from that purely abstract direction. My work became more figurative, with human forms and recognizable elements from everyday life.

Georg Massanés, ‘Noches de anthracita I,’ 2007. Mixed media on canvas, 200 x 200 cm (78.7 x 78.7 in). Photo courtesy of the artist and ART VEVEY.
My art history studies at the University of Barcelona were especially formative. They gave me a deeper understanding of different periods in art, and that knowledge becomes a kind of map. You can navigate art history more easily when you’ve studied it seriously. As painters, we always return to the great figures of the past, learning from how they resolved essential artistic problems and applying those lessons in our own work.
Another key influence was my time in an etching workshop run by a painter and editor who worked with artists like Tàpies and Hartung. I had direct contact with their materials and ideas, which left a strong impression. As a young artist, you're still forming your ideas, so those encounters shape you. Sometimes you take their words too seriously, but it’s part of learning — absorbing different conceptions of art before developing your own voice. That experience taught me a lot, not just technically, but about how artists think.

Georg Massanés, ‘Spring 2b,’ 2025. Oil on paper, 120 x 120 cm (47.2 x 47.2 in). Photo courtesy of the artist.
OM: Living and working in Montoliu de Segarra and Barcelona, have recent local or global crises — social, political, or environmental — found expression in your palette, scale, or embrace of abstraction? How does place inform symbolic choice?
GM: The environment in Montoliu doesn’t have a direct impact on my work, though I’ve painted some landscapes and sometimes use photographs I’ve taken as references. When it comes to the ecological crisis, I feel that the idea of “memento mori” already expresses a kind of position, though not in a clear or straightforward way. In installations, I’ve used objects like pharmaceutical oxygen bottles and references to dementia and human fragility, but not in my paintings. My paintings are more introspective; they reflect inner experiences rather than making overt political or environmental statements.

Georg Massanés, ‘Autoretrato Parcial.’ Oil on paper, 200 x 180 cm (78.7 x 70.9 in). Photo courtesy of the artist.
OM: As someone steeped in conceptual art and philosophical influences (from Hegel to García Calvo), how do you view abstraction as a space for embodying ideas about life and death, and what charge does that hold for viewers encountering works like “Autoretrato Parcial” or your more recent pieces?
GM: “Autoretrato Parcial” is a representation of suffering. I painted it during a time when many people close to me died suddenly, all in the same year. The painting reflects a sense of disconnection. The bag over the head symbolizes a desire not to see or be seen, as the context was tragic and deeply sad. The elements in the work clearly express that moment when everything feels heavy and dull. It’s not abstract. The clown, for me, is the most tragic figure I could imagine — an expression of sad humor from someone who has gained wisdom through life’s pain.







