Mexico City Art Week Gems 2025:
10 Artistic Positions I Fell for This Year
One of the best parts of traveling for art weeks is the chance to come across artists that are new to me. Those who know me know that I like to work slowly—I like to go deep, take my time, and allow ideas and curiosities to develop. But during art weeks, I move differently. I visit as many presentations as possible, because this is when everyone brings their A-game and all the good shows open. I run around town from A to B to Z, and here, yes, I can be quick. Quick in going through the shows, capturing what instantly sparks my interest, even if I can’t yet explain why.
Depending on the nature of the event, of course, there’s sometimes time to talk to artists, gallerists, curators, or read the exhibition texts. But it’s mostly not until I get back home that I really start reviewing everything—the pictures I took, the notes I wrote down—and begin researching properly. Reading, looking at more works by the artists, diving into the entire trajectory of their career. This time, I also took the time to list down some of my favorites. Maybe the list is interesting to someone. Though, of course, it’s written from an outsider’s perspective—please take it as such. There are many local art professionals who could give you a much deeper insight into the scene. Matter of fact, I can name you two directly: Emilia Chuliá and Esteban King. An dieser Stelle: Gracias por sus tips, sugerencias y recomendaciones! They are deeply valued.
Some short personal notes about Mexico City art week: Loved the balanced mix of participating galleries at Zona Maco, the main art fair. Mexican, Latin American and internationals. The satellite fairs are incredible too: Salón Acme and Material. Plus, the galleries around the city (and Mexico City has plenty of young galleries with experimental approaches that go far beyond just painting exhibitions). A lot of the works and artists on display were not only aesthetically appealing but also conceptually strong—filled with substance, well thought out in terms of material and medium choices.
Without much further ado, here goes the list:
1.) Angela Leyva (Off-Space / Studio Croma)
The best exhibitions are often those hidden gems your friends spontaneously tell you about. This one was in an off-space—a run-down yet charming old residential building in La Condesa—that hosted a group exhibition titled La Casa, El Sueño y la Otredad (“The House, the Dream, and Otherness”), curated by Charles Moore and Sebastián Isla.
Right at the entrance, an installation of paintings was placed on top of an old fireplace. The portraits depicted unrecognizable, blurred, almost unintentionally censored figures of varying sizes, exploring themes of memory and fiction. With incredible technical accuracy and a luminous quality, the artist paints figures stripped of identifying individual features—yet still manages to capture the essence of their faces. The source images for her works, archival photographs of medical patients with congenital disorders, were altered using artificial intelligence, adding another layer of complexity. As viewers engage with the paintings, they inevitably ask themselves: Am I looking at a real person, or is this an AI-generated fabrication?
Another of her paintings was displayed in a different room, which still contained remnants of its original (living room?) furniture. The way it blended into the space made it feel like part of the house’s history, creating an intriguing connection between the work and the memories embedded within the walls.
2.) Paloma Contreras Lomas (Museo Anahuacalli)
My first visit to the Anahuacalli Museum was hands down one of my favorites during art week. I love the idea of pairing contemporary art with historically significant spaces that have their own character and materiality—especially when combined with a collection from an entirely different era. In this case, of pre-Hispanic works.
Paloma Contreras Lomas’ works engaged with the space in an exceptional way, creating new meaning by revealing both parallels and contrasts. Especially striking were the large-scale graphite drawings in the upstairs hall, which seemed to echo the grand murals (sketches) by Diego Rivera, already present in the space. The level of detail was incredible—every time you looked, more hidden messages and symbols seemed to emerge.
Anahuacalli, home to Diego Rivera’s private collection of pre-Hispanic art, regularly invites contemporary artists to present their work in dialogue with its collection and architecture. The exhibition I visited, Cómo se escribe muerte al sur? (“How do you write death to the south?”), was a duo show featuring Paloma Contreras Lomas and Carolina Fusilier, curated by Karla Niño and Sam Ozer.
3.) La Chola Poblete (Zona Maco / Travesía Cuatro)
I’ve been following La Chola Poblete’s work since several Berlin Art Weeks ago. An artist friend and I were talking about performances that had stuck with us, and she told me about one at Palais Populaire that—no joke—made her cry. It was a performance by La Chola Poblete and Lola Bhajan.
Both artists have Argentinean roots, and my friend described how La Chola Poblete’s work deeply explores the discrimination, stereotyping, and fetishization that Indigenous communities and queer people face, intertwined with the lasting effects of colonization and the role of Christianity in shaping exclusion and oppression—especially against those whose identities and existences don’t fit into imposed norms. Since then, I’ve encountered her work in institutions and fairs around the world.
I sadly missed her presentation and performances at the last Venice Biennale, curated by Pedrosa, but I did get to see her solo show Melancolía del Futuro (“Melancholy of the Future”) at Galería Travesía Cuatro in Mexico now—and even got to speak with her briefly, which was a total fangirl moment for me. The exhibition featured several new works on paper and watercolors, the medium she is perhaps best known for, together with her performances. I absolutely love them.
4.) Juan Carlos León (LaNao)
A young gallery in the middle of La Condesa showcasing interesting, more institutional and experimental positions. I arrived just in time for the introduction to the solo show Mal de Ojo (“Evil Eye”) by the artist, who, when asked by someone in the audience, insisted on holding it in Spanish rather than English.
With his sculptures and wall objects, he created an installation that felt like a portal into a parallel universe—or perhaps a spiritual realm—exploring healing plants and herbs used in Santería and endemic to the Global South and Central America. Many of these plants have traditionally been linked to the concept of the evil eye and ways to protect oneself from it. Some of the sculptures had active functions: one, shaped like a tobacco plant, blew out smoke; another let out tears.
5.) José Eduardo Barajas (Salon Acme & Zona Maco / Nordenhake)
A position I initially discovered on a side note but that really stuck with me. I had gone to Yngve Holen’s opening at Nordenhake’s Mexico City space (which we also have in Berlin) and enjoyed it. There, I met some great people, and we ended up forming a little crew, moving from one opening to the next together. One of them, a collector, completely fell in love with a painting by Barajas that was exhibited in the small upstairs showroom, alongside works by other artists from the gallery’s program.
According to the gallery, Barajas was supposed to have a studio visit during the week, which I unfortunately missed. But then, I stumbled upon another piece of his at Salon Acme, in one of the curated sections. Since there were no labels, I didn’t realize at first that it was his work—but after asking around, I made the connection, and suddenly, everything clicked. There’s something so mysterious, metaphysical, and auratic about his pieces, yet at the same time, they feel deeply natural and grounding.
6.) Andrea Ferrero (Museo Tamayo & Zona Maco / Palma)
Now, this position I find extremely intriguing. I first came across her work at Galería Palma’s booth at Zona Maco, but with all the art fair noise, I didn’t get the chance to really dive in. Later, I reencountered her work in a much bigger setting at the group show OTRXS MUNDXS at Museo Tamayo—and wow, what an impressive installation!
I think I first recognized her work because of the fragmented fences she incorporates. And as I spent more time looking, I understood that they must have had something to do with preservation, ruins, and past times. The more sculptural, figurative elements in the installation appeared to be made of stone, marble, or bronze—like the statues that stand on pedestals in public spaces, memorializing so-called “heroic victories“, defined by the governing powers that had them installed. When I tell you I almost fell over backwards when I learned that these sculptures were actually made of perishable materials like wax and CHOCOLATE. Suddenly, the refrigerators placed throughout the installation began to make even more sense. The allusion to transient power structures, tried to be artificially preserved against their own nature—brilliant!
7.) Chavis Mármol (Zona Maco / JO-HS)
I can’t say I saw much of this artist during Art Week, but I did run into him by accident (or coincidence) at the Material art fair. The work I saw by him was exhibited at JO-HS gallery’s booth at Zona Maco, which had wonderful pieces in general. The sculpture with its enchanting two pearls, gazing at you from an open clam on a pedestal, stuck with me, so I had to look up the artist. Of course, I liked what I saw: installations and sculptures that are funny, aesthetically pleasing, and critical at the same time. That’s my taste. They have something pop cultural and explicit about them, yet at the same time, they are mixed with the depth of history, high culture, and pure materials. Several of his works feature beautiful Olmeca head sculptures as important recurring symbols. In one of his installations, one of these several-ton heavy stone sculptures rests on top of a smashed Tesla car 🙂
I think I don’t have to say much about this position; we can definitely say this is one of everybody’s darlings. This artistic duo is, in my humble opinion, one of the best at capturing our zeitgeist and style tendencies. Their work lies somewhere between industrial and romanticism, neo-goth and post-apocalypse, organic and technical. The works seem to have a function at first sight but end up being decorative at their core. Mostly working sculpturally, even when it’s flatware or wall objects, this collective was to be seen at Material art fair and PEANA gallery during Mexico Art Week and has a noteworthy exhibition record (MOCA Detroit, Sculpture Center NY, and more). Last year, I had the honor of visiting them in their studio.
9.) Caroline Douville (Material / Nicolas Robert)
When I came across the works by this artist at Nicolas Robert’s booth at the Material Art Fair, I was instantly hooked by their aura, and I knew there were deeper layers that I would get behind later after doing some research. What hooked me was, for sure, a combination of—or the back and forth between—some naturalistic painting or photographic/real-life events with digital and internet elements; a borderline (not to say liminal space, which I think is one of the most inflationary terms in the art context of 2024) that some of you know I dedicated some time to. What I thought was interesting, too, in terms of form (I hadn’t gotten into the content level yet, as you know), were the distortions, the grouping of several “narrow” canvases next to each other, and the collage elements with text.
And getting deeper didn’t disappoint. The works take up the zombie’s origin story in different forms as a prime example of the perversion, defamation, and, in the end, even appropriation and exploitation of the image of a certain culture by their oppressor. The zombie is a figure originating from Haitian beliefs, rituals, and folklore.
10.) Paulo Nazareth (Museo Tamayo / Mendes Wood DM)
This artist had the beautiful solo exhibition Luzia at Museo Tamayo. It’s one of those exhibitions where you can spend hours wandering around, moving from work to work, room to room, and taking your time to absorb all the different perspectives, mediums, and techniques through which the artist poetically and playfully approaches the recurring, pulsating topics and constructs of being (Latin) American: definitions of being native or foreign, immigrant or displaced; colonial structures and the power dynamics imposed by them, giving a stage to those who suffer most from it to speak; national identities and their attributed characteristics; the investigation of borders, then and now. One work was particularly cute, I thought: a small room called The Museum of the Mother, which was covered in paper sheets on which people, including some kids, were able to portray their moms.
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