We sat down with Colombian painter Jhonatan Pulido to discuss his recent exhibition Reparación at Alma Pearl, London, and find out more about his practice.
When did you start painting?
My interest in drawing and painting began from an early age and really took off in my teens around the age of 15. I greatly admired people who could create things on paper or canvas. These included still life, landscapes, or cartoons, so I decided to try my hand at it.
When did you know you wanted to be a full-time painter?
In my teens, I began taking drawing and painting classes at the Cultural Centre of my hometown in Granada, Meta, Colombia. I combined reading broadly across art history. At some point, I realised I was spending countless hours doing this and enjoyed it. I realised I wanted something like this for my life — to be immersed in the making and not to have to worry about what time I was going home, how many days until the weekend, or when a vacation would be. I wanted to feel the freedom and the pleasure that the creative process brings. Although I was already in the advanced student group, I asked to also take the beginners' classes over again and again. That way, I could be there all the time and try different things.
How is your work influenced by the Colombian civil war and ongoing conflict?
It's a theme that will always be present in my artistic practice, hence my colour palette, the intimidating texts claiming territory, the layering, etc. My work is a way of processing and healing my memories and my childhood fears, which perhaps remain adult fears, but disguised. Rather than saying that my work is influenced by the conflict, I would say it's about my relationship with those events, and with specific moments I experienced. I think talking about the Colombian conflict is something broad, complex, and delicate at the same time. An armed conflict always brings victims, pain and mourning, and this creates limits that I try not to cross, out of respect for those who have gone and for those who still await justice, truth, and reparation. Although a peace agreement was signed a few years ago, and the country enjoyed a relatively peaceful period, some illegal groups have re-armed in some areas, making things more complicated once again. It's sad to say, but in Colombia, there are people and political parties who don't want peace. It seems that it does not suit them.
At first, your works look abstract, but upon closer inspection, they could be depictions of real walls layered with graffiti. Do you ever copy real walls, or is this effect always created?
The walls and architectural forms of rural Colombia play a significant role in my painting. However, I never copy from photographs or follow a specific plan; I strive to avoid direct replication as much as possible. I believe that the essence of the wall that you talk about is conveyed through the accumulation of layers of paint and text. I also use tools like scrapers, rollers, sanders and heavy-duty brushes. In my view, combining these elements ultimately creates the effect of a wall’s surface.
Where do the slogans or words you choose come from?
These are divided into two groups. The first group consists of graffiti created by illegal armed groups on both the far left and the far right. Their tags and actions are typically executed quickly and aim to threaten opponents or assert control over territory. The second group encompasses commercial shop signs crafted by self-taught painters. These signs require more effort to create. I tend to focus on those that advertise repair services. In a country like mine, the concept of "repair" carries significant political and poetic implications linked to the political context and economy.
Which artists influence you the most?
For purely pictorial aspects, I could mention Amy Sillman, Richard Diebenkorn, Peter Doig, and Hurvin Anderson. For conceptual themes, I could mention Beatriz González and William Kentridge.
Is your vibrant use of colour more influenced by Colombian visual culture?
Yes, of course, my palette speaks about a specific place. The opaque, pastel colours are very common on the facades of houses where I grew up, and I think over the years, this has become a kind of identity for me. London hasn’t really affected my palette. It is, I suppose a bit like holding onto one’s accent.
Are there any secret symbols or codes in your work? I noticed a diamond appears in many works…
The diamond, or rhombus shape is very common on the facades of many houses in Colombia. Also in the windows and doors. It's a decorative element that I grew up seeing and that has always been a part of my environment. Even my grandfather, who worked in construction, created many reliefs of this shape in our town. A few years ago, I read an interesting article explaining how this symbol represented something positive for our ancestors, not only in South America but in various cultures worldwide. It is often linked to themes of fertility and good luck and is even associated with the image of a frog. Learning this gave the diamond shape a much broader meaning for me, transforming its decorative value into something more spiritual.
What separates fine art from graffiti?
The intention of the person who executes it.
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Is it difficult to support yourself as an artist in London?
Sometimes, despite being quite a common struggle most young artists experience, the most challenging part hasn’t been the financial aspect. Painting is like a child that you need to protect and feed; someday that child may grow and feed you. I have always held flexible part-time jobs in museums and galleries, which have helped me support my artwork and reach my current position. Compared to my home country, London offers many work opportunities, and I consider myself very fortunate in that regard.
Did winning the Vortic Prize at the Untitled Art Fair, Miami, in 2024 affect your practice?
Of course it did. The Vortic Prize and, in general, the Untitled Art Fair in Miami was a great platform for my work, particularly given the context. My gallery, Alma Pearl made a strong presentation, and made connections with new collectors that engaged my work with a broader audience. The response we received there was overwhelmingly positive.
What makes a good studio?
Good light, a window, high walls and a big space that allows you to make a mess.
As you live in London, how do you draw visual inspiration from home? Do you use memory or photos, or travel back often?
All of the above. I have a digital and printed archive of images that capture places, landscapes, and elements connecting me to my homeland. Also, memory and the act of remembering play significant roles in my practice. Despite being far away, I have never disconnected from my country. All my family and close friends live there, so I try to visit once a year for an extended period. I go simply to live, without any intention of seeking inspiration or materials for my work. Yet often, during this everyday life, ideas and images evolve into something more once I return to London.
Congratulations on your exhibition ‘Reparacion’ at Alma Pearl, which ended in May. Have you already started a new series? What’s next for Jhonatan Pulido?
Thank you very much. I am currently working diligently and aiming to participate in some art fairs and exhibitions next year. I have many works in progress, but none are finished yet, which indicates that things are progressing well. This is generally how I approach my work, and I quite enjoy it. In my last exhibition, "Reparación," at Alma Pearl, I introduced various new techniques that I am now exploring, such as hand stitching and extending paint onto the walls. These elements are essential to the new body of work I am making..
We sat down with Colombian painter Jhonatan Pulido to discuss his recent exhibition Reparación at Alma Pearl, London, and find out more about his practice.
When did you start painting?
My interest in drawing and painting began from an early age and really took off in my teens around the age of 15. I greatly admired people who could create things on paper or canvas. These included still life, landscapes, or cartoons, so I decided to try my hand at it.
When did you know you wanted to be a full-time painter?
In my teens, I began taking drawing and painting classes at the Cultural Centre of my hometown in Granada, Meta, Colombia. I combined reading broadly across art history. At some point, I realised I was spending countless hours doing this and enjoyed it. I realised I wanted something like this for my life — to be immersed in the making and not to have to worry about what time I was going home, how many days until the weekend, or when a vacation would be. I wanted to feel the freedom and the pleasure that the creative process brings. Although I was already in the advanced student group, I asked to also take the beginners' classes over again and again. That way, I could be there all the time and try different things.
How is your work influenced by the Colombian civil war and ongoing conflict?
It's a theme that will always be present in my artistic practice, hence my colour palette, the intimidating texts claiming territory, the layering, etc. My work is a way of processing and healing my memories and my childhood fears, which perhaps remain adult fears, but disguised. Rather than saying that my work is influenced by the conflict, I would say it's about my relationship with those events, and with specific moments I experienced. I think talking about the Colombian conflict is something broad, complex, and delicate at the same time. An armed conflict always brings victims, pain and mourning, and this creates limits that I try not to cross, out of respect for those who have gone and for those who still await justice, truth, and reparation. Although a peace agreement was signed a few years ago, and the country enjoyed a relatively peaceful period, some illegal groups have re-armed in some areas, making things more complicated once again. It's sad to say, but in Colombia, there are people and political parties who don't want peace. It seems that it does not suit them.
At first, your works look abstract, but upon closer inspection, they could be depictions of real walls layered with graffiti. Do you ever copy real walls, or is this effect always created?
The walls and architectural forms of rural Colombia play a significant role in my painting. However, I never copy from photographs or follow a specific plan; I strive to avoid direct replication as much as possible. I believe that the essence of the wall that you talk about is conveyed through the accumulation of layers of paint and text. I also use tools like scrapers, rollers, sanders and heavy-duty brushes. In my view, combining these elements ultimately creates the effect of a wall’s surface.
Where do the slogans or words you choose come from?
These are divided into two groups. The first group consists of graffiti created by illegal armed groups on both the far left and the far right. Their tags and actions are typically executed quickly and aim to threaten opponents or assert control over territory. The second group encompasses commercial shop signs crafted by self-taught painters. These signs require more effort to create. I tend to focus on those that advertise repair services. In a country like mine, the concept of "repair" carries significant political and poetic implications linked to the political context and economy.
Which artists influence you the most?
For purely pictorial aspects, I could mention Amy Sillman, Richard Diebenkorn, Peter Doig, and Hurvin Anderson. For conceptual themes, I could mention Beatriz González and William Kentridge.
Is your vibrant use of colour more influenced by Colombian visual culture?
Yes, of course, my palette speaks about a specific place. The opaque, pastel colours are very common on the facades of houses where I grew up, and I think over the years, this has become a kind of identity for me. London hasn’t really affected my palette. It is, I suppose a bit like holding onto one’s accent.
Are there any secret symbols or codes in your work? I noticed a diamond appears in many works…
The diamond, or rhombus shape is very common on the facades of many houses in Colombia. Also in the windows and doors. It's a decorative element that I grew up seeing and that has always been a part of my environment. Even my grandfather, who worked in construction, created many reliefs of this shape in our town. A few years ago, I read an interesting article explaining how this symbol represented something positive for our ancestors, not only in South America but in various cultures worldwide. It is often linked to themes of fertility and good luck and is even associated with the image of a frog. Learning this gave the diamond shape a much broader meaning for me, transforming its decorative value into something more spiritual.
What separates fine art from graffiti?
The intention of the person who executes it.
Is it difficult to support yourself as an artist in London?
Sometimes, despite being quite a common struggle most young artists experience, the most challenging part hasn’t been the financial aspect. Painting is like a child that you need to protect and feed; someday that child may grow and feed you. I have always held flexible part-time jobs in museums and galleries, which have helped me support my artwork and reach my current position. Compared to my home country, London offers many work opportunities, and I consider myself very fortunate in that regard.
Did winning the Vortic Prize at the Untitled Art Fair, Miami, in 2024 affect your practice?
Of course it did. The Vortic Prize and, in general, the Untitled Art Fair in Miami was a great platform for my work, particularly given the context. My gallery, Alma Pearl made a strong presentation, and made connections with new collectors that engaged my work with a broader audience. The response we received there was overwhelmingly positive.
What makes a good studio?
Good light, a window, high walls and a big space that allows you to make a mess.
As you live in London, how do you draw visual inspiration from home? Do you use memory or photos, or travel back often?
All of the above. I have a digital and printed archive of images that capture places, landscapes, and elements connecting me to my homeland. Also, memory and the act of remembering play significant roles in my practice. Despite being far away, I have never disconnected from my country. All my family and close friends live there, so I try to visit once a year for an extended period. I go simply to live, without any intention of seeking inspiration or materials for my work. Yet often, during this everyday life, ideas and images evolve into something more once I return to London.
Congratulations on your exhibition ‘Reparacion’ at Alma Pearl, which ended in May. Have you already started a new series? What’s next for Jhonatan Pulido?
Thank you very much. I am currently working diligently and aiming to participate in some art fairs and exhibitions next year. I have many works in progress, but none are finished yet, which indicates that things are progressing well. This is generally how I approach my work, and I quite enjoy it. In my last exhibition, "Reparación," at Alma Pearl, I introduced various new techniques that I am now exploring, such as hand stitching and extending paint onto the walls. These elements are essential to the new body of work I am making..
We sat down with Colombian painter Jhonatan Pulido to discuss his recent exhibition Reparación at Alma Pearl, London, and find out more about his practice.
When did you start painting?
My interest in drawing and painting began from an early age and really took off in my teens around the age of 15. I greatly admired people who could create things on paper or canvas. These included still life, landscapes, or cartoons, so I decided to try my hand at it.
When did you know you wanted to be a full-time painter?
In my teens, I began taking drawing and painting classes at the Cultural Centre of my hometown in Granada, Meta, Colombia. I combined reading broadly across art history. At some point, I realised I was spending countless hours doing this and enjoyed it. I realised I wanted something like this for my life — to be immersed in the making and not to have to worry about what time I was going home, how many days until the weekend, or when a vacation would be. I wanted to feel the freedom and the pleasure that the creative process brings. Although I was already in the advanced student group, I asked to also take the beginners' classes over again and again. That way, I could be there all the time and try different things.
How is your work influenced by the Colombian civil war and ongoing conflict?
It's a theme that will always be present in my artistic practice, hence my colour palette, the intimidating texts claiming territory, the layering, etc. My work is a way of processing and healing my memories and my childhood fears, which perhaps remain adult fears, but disguised. Rather than saying that my work is influenced by the conflict, I would say it's about my relationship with those events, and with specific moments I experienced. I think talking about the Colombian conflict is something broad, complex, and delicate at the same time. An armed conflict always brings victims, pain and mourning, and this creates limits that I try not to cross, out of respect for those who have gone and for those who still await justice, truth, and reparation. Although a peace agreement was signed a few years ago, and the country enjoyed a relatively peaceful period, some illegal groups have re-armed in some areas, making things more complicated once again. It's sad to say, but in Colombia, there are people and political parties who don't want peace. It seems that it does not suit them.
At first, your works look abstract, but upon closer inspection, they could be depictions of real walls layered with graffiti. Do you ever copy real walls, or is this effect always created?
The walls and architectural forms of rural Colombia play a significant role in my painting. However, I never copy from photographs or follow a specific plan; I strive to avoid direct replication as much as possible. I believe that the essence of the wall that you talk about is conveyed through the accumulation of layers of paint and text. I also use tools like scrapers, rollers, sanders and heavy-duty brushes. In my view, combining these elements ultimately creates the effect of a wall’s surface.
Where do the slogans or words you choose come from?
These are divided into two groups. The first group consists of graffiti created by illegal armed groups on both the far left and the far right. Their tags and actions are typically executed quickly and aim to threaten opponents or assert control over territory. The second group encompasses commercial shop signs crafted by self-taught painters. These signs require more effort to create. I tend to focus on those that advertise repair services. In a country like mine, the concept of "repair" carries significant political and poetic implications linked to the political context and economy.
Which artists influence you the most?
For purely pictorial aspects, I could mention Amy Sillman, Richard Diebenkorn, Peter Doig, and Hurvin Anderson. For conceptual themes, I could mention Beatriz González and William Kentridge.
Is your vibrant use of colour more influenced by Colombian visual culture?
Yes, of course, my palette speaks about a specific place. The opaque, pastel colours are very common on the facades of houses where I grew up, and I think over the years, this has become a kind of identity for me. London hasn’t really affected my palette. It is, I suppose a bit like holding onto one’s accent.
Are there any secret symbols or codes in your work? I noticed a diamond appears in many works…
The diamond, or rhombus shape is very common on the facades of many houses in Colombia. Also in the windows and doors. It's a decorative element that I grew up seeing and that has always been a part of my environment. Even my grandfather, who worked in construction, created many reliefs of this shape in our town. A few years ago, I read an interesting article explaining how this symbol represented something positive for our ancestors, not only in South America but in various cultures worldwide. It is often linked to themes of fertility and good luck and is even associated with the image of a frog. Learning this gave the diamond shape a much broader meaning for me, transforming its decorative value into something more spiritual.
What separates fine art from graffiti?
The intention of the person who executes it.
Is it difficult to support yourself as an artist in London?
Sometimes, despite being quite a common struggle most young artists experience, the most challenging part hasn’t been the financial aspect. Painting is like a child that you need to protect and feed; someday that child may grow and feed you. I have always held flexible part-time jobs in museums and galleries, which have helped me support my artwork and reach my current position. Compared to my home country, London offers many work opportunities, and I consider myself very fortunate in that regard.
Did winning the Vortic Prize at the Untitled Art Fair, Miami, in 2024 affect your practice?
Of course it did. The Vortic Prize and, in general, the Untitled Art Fair in Miami was a great platform for my work, particularly given the context. My gallery, Alma Pearl made a strong presentation, and made connections with new collectors that engaged my work with a broader audience. The response we received there was overwhelmingly positive.
What makes a good studio?
Good light, a window, high walls and a big space that allows you to make a mess.
As you live in London, how do you draw visual inspiration from home? Do you use memory or photos, or travel back often?
All of the above. I have a digital and printed archive of images that capture places, landscapes, and elements connecting me to my homeland. Also, memory and the act of remembering play significant roles in my practice. Despite being far away, I have never disconnected from my country. All my family and close friends live there, so I try to visit once a year for an extended period. I go simply to live, without any intention of seeking inspiration or materials for my work. Yet often, during this everyday life, ideas and images evolve into something more once I return to London.
Congratulations on your exhibition ‘Reparacion’ at Alma Pearl, which ended in May. Have you already started a new series? What’s next for Jhonatan Pulido?
Thank you very much. I am currently working diligently and aiming to participate in some art fairs and exhibitions next year. I have many works in progress, but none are finished yet, which indicates that things are progressing well. This is generally how I approach my work, and I quite enjoy it. In my last exhibition, "Reparación," at Alma Pearl, I introduced various new techniques that I am now exploring, such as hand stitching and extending paint onto the walls. These elements are essential to the new body of work I am making..
We sat down with Colombian painter Jhonatan Pulido to discuss his recent exhibition Reparación at Alma Pearl, London, and find out more about his practice.
When did you start painting?
My interest in drawing and painting began from an early age and really took off in my teens around the age of 15. I greatly admired people who could create things on paper or canvas. These included still life, landscapes, or cartoons, so I decided to try my hand at it.
When did you know you wanted to be a full-time painter?
In my teens, I began taking drawing and painting classes at the Cultural Centre of my hometown in Granada, Meta, Colombia. I combined reading broadly across art history. At some point, I realised I was spending countless hours doing this and enjoyed it. I realised I wanted something like this for my life — to be immersed in the making and not to have to worry about what time I was going home, how many days until the weekend, or when a vacation would be. I wanted to feel the freedom and the pleasure that the creative process brings. Although I was already in the advanced student group, I asked to also take the beginners' classes over again and again. That way, I could be there all the time and try different things.
How is your work influenced by the Colombian civil war and ongoing conflict?
It's a theme that will always be present in my artistic practice, hence my colour palette, the intimidating texts claiming territory, the layering, etc. My work is a way of processing and healing my memories and my childhood fears, which perhaps remain adult fears, but disguised. Rather than saying that my work is influenced by the conflict, I would say it's about my relationship with those events, and with specific moments I experienced. I think talking about the Colombian conflict is something broad, complex, and delicate at the same time. An armed conflict always brings victims, pain and mourning, and this creates limits that I try not to cross, out of respect for those who have gone and for those who still await justice, truth, and reparation. Although a peace agreement was signed a few years ago, and the country enjoyed a relatively peaceful period, some illegal groups have re-armed in some areas, making things more complicated once again. It's sad to say, but in Colombia, there are people and political parties who don't want peace. It seems that it does not suit them.
At first, your works look abstract, but upon closer inspection, they could be depictions of real walls layered with graffiti. Do you ever copy real walls, or is this effect always created?
The walls and architectural forms of rural Colombia play a significant role in my painting. However, I never copy from photographs or follow a specific plan; I strive to avoid direct replication as much as possible. I believe that the essence of the wall that you talk about is conveyed through the accumulation of layers of paint and text. I also use tools like scrapers, rollers, sanders and heavy-duty brushes. In my view, combining these elements ultimately creates the effect of a wall’s surface.
Where do the slogans or words you choose come from?
These are divided into two groups. The first group consists of graffiti created by illegal armed groups on both the far left and the far right. Their tags and actions are typically executed quickly and aim to threaten opponents or assert control over territory. The second group encompasses commercial shop signs crafted by self-taught painters. These signs require more effort to create. I tend to focus on those that advertise repair services. In a country like mine, the concept of "repair" carries significant political and poetic implications linked to the political context and economy.
Which artists influence you the most?
For purely pictorial aspects, I could mention Amy Sillman, Richard Diebenkorn, Peter Doig, and Hurvin Anderson. For conceptual themes, I could mention Beatriz González and William Kentridge.
Is your vibrant use of colour more influenced by Colombian visual culture?
Yes, of course, my palette speaks about a specific place. The opaque, pastel colours are very common on the facades of houses where I grew up, and I think over the years, this has become a kind of identity for me. London hasn’t really affected my palette. It is, I suppose a bit like holding onto one’s accent.
Are there any secret symbols or codes in your work? I noticed a diamond appears in many works…
The diamond, or rhombus shape is very common on the facades of many houses in Colombia. Also in the windows and doors. It's a decorative element that I grew up seeing and that has always been a part of my environment. Even my grandfather, who worked in construction, created many reliefs of this shape in our town. A few years ago, I read an interesting article explaining how this symbol represented something positive for our ancestors, not only in South America but in various cultures worldwide. It is often linked to themes of fertility and good luck and is even associated with the image of a frog. Learning this gave the diamond shape a much broader meaning for me, transforming its decorative value into something more spiritual.
What separates fine art from graffiti?
The intention of the person who executes it.
Is it difficult to support yourself as an artist in London?
Sometimes, despite being quite a common struggle most young artists experience, the most challenging part hasn’t been the financial aspect. Painting is like a child that you need to protect and feed; someday that child may grow and feed you. I have always held flexible part-time jobs in museums and galleries, which have helped me support my artwork and reach my current position. Compared to my home country, London offers many work opportunities, and I consider myself very fortunate in that regard.
Did winning the Vortic Prize at the Untitled Art Fair, Miami, in 2024 affect your practice?
Of course it did. The Vortic Prize and, in general, the Untitled Art Fair in Miami was a great platform for my work, particularly given the context. My gallery, Alma Pearl made a strong presentation, and made connections with new collectors that engaged my work with a broader audience. The response we received there was overwhelmingly positive.
What makes a good studio?
Good light, a window, high walls and a big space that allows you to make a mess.
As you live in London, how do you draw visual inspiration from home? Do you use memory or photos, or travel back often?
All of the above. I have a digital and printed archive of images that capture places, landscapes, and elements connecting me to my homeland. Also, memory and the act of remembering play significant roles in my practice. Despite being far away, I have never disconnected from my country. All my family and close friends live there, so I try to visit once a year for an extended period. I go simply to live, without any intention of seeking inspiration or materials for my work. Yet often, during this everyday life, ideas and images evolve into something more once I return to London.
Congratulations on your exhibition ‘Reparacion’ at Alma Pearl, which ended in May. Have you already started a new series? What’s next for Jhonatan Pulido?
Thank you very much. I am currently working diligently and aiming to participate in some art fairs and exhibitions next year. I have many works in progress, but none are finished yet, which indicates that things are progressing well. This is generally how I approach my work, and I quite enjoy it. In my last exhibition, "Reparación," at Alma Pearl, I introduced various new techniques that I am now exploring, such as hand stitching and extending paint onto the walls. These elements are essential to the new body of work I am making..
We sat down with Colombian painter Jhonatan Pulido to discuss his recent exhibition Reparación at Alma Pearl, London, and find out more about his practice.
When did you start painting?
My interest in drawing and painting began from an early age and really took off in my teens around the age of 15. I greatly admired people who could create things on paper or canvas. These included still life, landscapes, or cartoons, so I decided to try my hand at it.
When did you know you wanted to be a full-time painter?
In my teens, I began taking drawing and painting classes at the Cultural Centre of my hometown in Granada, Meta, Colombia. I combined reading broadly across art history. At some point, I realised I was spending countless hours doing this and enjoyed it. I realised I wanted something like this for my life — to be immersed in the making and not to have to worry about what time I was going home, how many days until the weekend, or when a vacation would be. I wanted to feel the freedom and the pleasure that the creative process brings. Although I was already in the advanced student group, I asked to also take the beginners' classes over again and again. That way, I could be there all the time and try different things.
How is your work influenced by the Colombian civil war and ongoing conflict?
It's a theme that will always be present in my artistic practice, hence my colour palette, the intimidating texts claiming territory, the layering, etc. My work is a way of processing and healing my memories and my childhood fears, which perhaps remain adult fears, but disguised. Rather than saying that my work is influenced by the conflict, I would say it's about my relationship with those events, and with specific moments I experienced. I think talking about the Colombian conflict is something broad, complex, and delicate at the same time. An armed conflict always brings victims, pain and mourning, and this creates limits that I try not to cross, out of respect for those who have gone and for those who still await justice, truth, and reparation. Although a peace agreement was signed a few years ago, and the country enjoyed a relatively peaceful period, some illegal groups have re-armed in some areas, making things more complicated once again. It's sad to say, but in Colombia, there are people and political parties who don't want peace. It seems that it does not suit them.
At first, your works look abstract, but upon closer inspection, they could be depictions of real walls layered with graffiti. Do you ever copy real walls, or is this effect always created?
The walls and architectural forms of rural Colombia play a significant role in my painting. However, I never copy from photographs or follow a specific plan; I strive to avoid direct replication as much as possible. I believe that the essence of the wall that you talk about is conveyed through the accumulation of layers of paint and text. I also use tools like scrapers, rollers, sanders and heavy-duty brushes. In my view, combining these elements ultimately creates the effect of a wall’s surface.
Where do the slogans or words you choose come from?
These are divided into two groups. The first group consists of graffiti created by illegal armed groups on both the far left and the far right. Their tags and actions are typically executed quickly and aim to threaten opponents or assert control over territory. The second group encompasses commercial shop signs crafted by self-taught painters. These signs require more effort to create. I tend to focus on those that advertise repair services. In a country like mine, the concept of "repair" carries significant political and poetic implications linked to the political context and economy.
Which artists influence you the most?
For purely pictorial aspects, I could mention Amy Sillman, Richard Diebenkorn, Peter Doig, and Hurvin Anderson. For conceptual themes, I could mention Beatriz González and William Kentridge.
Is your vibrant use of colour more influenced by Colombian visual culture?
Yes, of course, my palette speaks about a specific place. The opaque, pastel colours are very common on the facades of houses where I grew up, and I think over the years, this has become a kind of identity for me. London hasn’t really affected my palette. It is, I suppose a bit like holding onto one’s accent.
Are there any secret symbols or codes in your work? I noticed a diamond appears in many works…
The diamond, or rhombus shape is very common on the facades of many houses in Colombia. Also in the windows and doors. It's a decorative element that I grew up seeing and that has always been a part of my environment. Even my grandfather, who worked in construction, created many reliefs of this shape in our town. A few years ago, I read an interesting article explaining how this symbol represented something positive for our ancestors, not only in South America but in various cultures worldwide. It is often linked to themes of fertility and good luck and is even associated with the image of a frog. Learning this gave the diamond shape a much broader meaning for me, transforming its decorative value into something more spiritual.
What separates fine art from graffiti?
The intention of the person who executes it.
Is it difficult to support yourself as an artist in London?
Sometimes, despite being quite a common struggle most young artists experience, the most challenging part hasn’t been the financial aspect. Painting is like a child that you need to protect and feed; someday that child may grow and feed you. I have always held flexible part-time jobs in museums and galleries, which have helped me support my artwork and reach my current position. Compared to my home country, London offers many work opportunities, and I consider myself very fortunate in that regard.
Did winning the Vortic Prize at the Untitled Art Fair, Miami, in 2024 affect your practice?
Of course it did. The Vortic Prize and, in general, the Untitled Art Fair in Miami was a great platform for my work, particularly given the context. My gallery, Alma Pearl made a strong presentation, and made connections with new collectors that engaged my work with a broader audience. The response we received there was overwhelmingly positive.
What makes a good studio?
Good light, a window, high walls and a big space that allows you to make a mess.
As you live in London, how do you draw visual inspiration from home? Do you use memory or photos, or travel back often?
All of the above. I have a digital and printed archive of images that capture places, landscapes, and elements connecting me to my homeland. Also, memory and the act of remembering play significant roles in my practice. Despite being far away, I have never disconnected from my country. All my family and close friends live there, so I try to visit once a year for an extended period. I go simply to live, without any intention of seeking inspiration or materials for my work. Yet often, during this everyday life, ideas and images evolve into something more once I return to London.
Congratulations on your exhibition ‘Reparacion’ at Alma Pearl, which ended in May. Have you already started a new series? What’s next for Jhonatan Pulido?
Thank you very much. I am currently working diligently and aiming to participate in some art fairs and exhibitions next year. I have many works in progress, but none are finished yet, which indicates that things are progressing well. This is generally how I approach my work, and I quite enjoy it. In my last exhibition, "Reparación," at Alma Pearl, I introduced various new techniques that I am now exploring, such as hand stitching and extending paint onto the walls. These elements are essential to the new body of work I am making..
We sat down with Colombian painter Jhonatan Pulido to discuss his recent exhibition Reparación at Alma Pearl, London, and find out more about his practice.
When did you start painting?
My interest in drawing and painting began from an early age and really took off in my teens around the age of 15. I greatly admired people who could create things on paper or canvas. These included still life, landscapes, or cartoons, so I decided to try my hand at it.
When did you know you wanted to be a full-time painter?
In my teens, I began taking drawing and painting classes at the Cultural Centre of my hometown in Granada, Meta, Colombia. I combined reading broadly across art history. At some point, I realised I was spending countless hours doing this and enjoyed it. I realised I wanted something like this for my life — to be immersed in the making and not to have to worry about what time I was going home, how many days until the weekend, or when a vacation would be. I wanted to feel the freedom and the pleasure that the creative process brings. Although I was already in the advanced student group, I asked to also take the beginners' classes over again and again. That way, I could be there all the time and try different things.
How is your work influenced by the Colombian civil war and ongoing conflict?
It's a theme that will always be present in my artistic practice, hence my colour palette, the intimidating texts claiming territory, the layering, etc. My work is a way of processing and healing my memories and my childhood fears, which perhaps remain adult fears, but disguised. Rather than saying that my work is influenced by the conflict, I would say it's about my relationship with those events, and with specific moments I experienced. I think talking about the Colombian conflict is something broad, complex, and delicate at the same time. An armed conflict always brings victims, pain and mourning, and this creates limits that I try not to cross, out of respect for those who have gone and for those who still await justice, truth, and reparation. Although a peace agreement was signed a few years ago, and the country enjoyed a relatively peaceful period, some illegal groups have re-armed in some areas, making things more complicated once again. It's sad to say, but in Colombia, there are people and political parties who don't want peace. It seems that it does not suit them.
At first, your works look abstract, but upon closer inspection, they could be depictions of real walls layered with graffiti. Do you ever copy real walls, or is this effect always created?
The walls and architectural forms of rural Colombia play a significant role in my painting. However, I never copy from photographs or follow a specific plan; I strive to avoid direct replication as much as possible. I believe that the essence of the wall that you talk about is conveyed through the accumulation of layers of paint and text. I also use tools like scrapers, rollers, sanders and heavy-duty brushes. In my view, combining these elements ultimately creates the effect of a wall’s surface.
Where do the slogans or words you choose come from?
These are divided into two groups. The first group consists of graffiti created by illegal armed groups on both the far left and the far right. Their tags and actions are typically executed quickly and aim to threaten opponents or assert control over territory. The second group encompasses commercial shop signs crafted by self-taught painters. These signs require more effort to create. I tend to focus on those that advertise repair services. In a country like mine, the concept of "repair" carries significant political and poetic implications linked to the political context and economy.
Which artists influence you the most?
For purely pictorial aspects, I could mention Amy Sillman, Richard Diebenkorn, Peter Doig, and Hurvin Anderson. For conceptual themes, I could mention Beatriz González and William Kentridge.
Is your vibrant use of colour more influenced by Colombian visual culture?
Yes, of course, my palette speaks about a specific place. The opaque, pastel colours are very common on the facades of houses where I grew up, and I think over the years, this has become a kind of identity for me. London hasn’t really affected my palette. It is, I suppose a bit like holding onto one’s accent.
Are there any secret symbols or codes in your work? I noticed a diamond appears in many works…
The diamond, or rhombus shape is very common on the facades of many houses in Colombia. Also in the windows and doors. It's a decorative element that I grew up seeing and that has always been a part of my environment. Even my grandfather, who worked in construction, created many reliefs of this shape in our town. A few years ago, I read an interesting article explaining how this symbol represented something positive for our ancestors, not only in South America but in various cultures worldwide. It is often linked to themes of fertility and good luck and is even associated with the image of a frog. Learning this gave the diamond shape a much broader meaning for me, transforming its decorative value into something more spiritual.
What separates fine art from graffiti?
The intention of the person who executes it.
Is it difficult to support yourself as an artist in London?
Sometimes, despite being quite a common struggle most young artists experience, the most challenging part hasn’t been the financial aspect. Painting is like a child that you need to protect and feed; someday that child may grow and feed you. I have always held flexible part-time jobs in museums and galleries, which have helped me support my artwork and reach my current position. Compared to my home country, London offers many work opportunities, and I consider myself very fortunate in that regard.
Did winning the Vortic Prize at the Untitled Art Fair, Miami, in 2024 affect your practice?
Of course it did. The Vortic Prize and, in general, the Untitled Art Fair in Miami was a great platform for my work, particularly given the context. My gallery, Alma Pearl made a strong presentation, and made connections with new collectors that engaged my work with a broader audience. The response we received there was overwhelmingly positive.
What makes a good studio?
Good light, a window, high walls and a big space that allows you to make a mess.
As you live in London, how do you draw visual inspiration from home? Do you use memory or photos, or travel back often?
All of the above. I have a digital and printed archive of images that capture places, landscapes, and elements connecting me to my homeland. Also, memory and the act of remembering play significant roles in my practice. Despite being far away, I have never disconnected from my country. All my family and close friends live there, so I try to visit once a year for an extended period. I go simply to live, without any intention of seeking inspiration or materials for my work. Yet often, during this everyday life, ideas and images evolve into something more once I return to London.
Congratulations on your exhibition ‘Reparacion’ at Alma Pearl, which ended in May. Have you already started a new series? What’s next for Jhonatan Pulido?
Thank you very much. I am currently working diligently and aiming to participate in some art fairs and exhibitions next year. I have many works in progress, but none are finished yet, which indicates that things are progressing well. This is generally how I approach my work, and I quite enjoy it. In my last exhibition, "Reparación," at Alma Pearl, I introduced various new techniques that I am now exploring, such as hand stitching and extending paint onto the walls. These elements are essential to the new body of work I am making..
We sat down with Colombian painter Jhonatan Pulido to discuss his recent exhibition Reparación at Alma Pearl, London, and find out more about his practice.
When did you start painting?
My interest in drawing and painting began from an early age and really took off in my teens around the age of 15. I greatly admired people who could create things on paper or canvas. These included still life, landscapes, or cartoons, so I decided to try my hand at it.
When did you know you wanted to be a full-time painter?
In my teens, I began taking drawing and painting classes at the Cultural Centre of my hometown in Granada, Meta, Colombia. I combined reading broadly across art history. At some point, I realised I was spending countless hours doing this and enjoyed it. I realised I wanted something like this for my life — to be immersed in the making and not to have to worry about what time I was going home, how many days until the weekend, or when a vacation would be. I wanted to feel the freedom and the pleasure that the creative process brings. Although I was already in the advanced student group, I asked to also take the beginners' classes over again and again. That way, I could be there all the time and try different things.
How is your work influenced by the Colombian civil war and ongoing conflict?
It's a theme that will always be present in my artistic practice, hence my colour palette, the intimidating texts claiming territory, the layering, etc. My work is a way of processing and healing my memories and my childhood fears, which perhaps remain adult fears, but disguised. Rather than saying that my work is influenced by the conflict, I would say it's about my relationship with those events, and with specific moments I experienced. I think talking about the Colombian conflict is something broad, complex, and delicate at the same time. An armed conflict always brings victims, pain and mourning, and this creates limits that I try not to cross, out of respect for those who have gone and for those who still await justice, truth, and reparation. Although a peace agreement was signed a few years ago, and the country enjoyed a relatively peaceful period, some illegal groups have re-armed in some areas, making things more complicated once again. It's sad to say, but in Colombia, there are people and political parties who don't want peace. It seems that it does not suit them.
At first, your works look abstract, but upon closer inspection, they could be depictions of real walls layered with graffiti. Do you ever copy real walls, or is this effect always created?
The walls and architectural forms of rural Colombia play a significant role in my painting. However, I never copy from photographs or follow a specific plan; I strive to avoid direct replication as much as possible. I believe that the essence of the wall that you talk about is conveyed through the accumulation of layers of paint and text. I also use tools like scrapers, rollers, sanders and heavy-duty brushes. In my view, combining these elements ultimately creates the effect of a wall’s surface.
Where do the slogans or words you choose come from?
These are divided into two groups. The first group consists of graffiti created by illegal armed groups on both the far left and the far right. Their tags and actions are typically executed quickly and aim to threaten opponents or assert control over territory. The second group encompasses commercial shop signs crafted by self-taught painters. These signs require more effort to create. I tend to focus on those that advertise repair services. In a country like mine, the concept of "repair" carries significant political and poetic implications linked to the political context and economy.
Which artists influence you the most?
For purely pictorial aspects, I could mention Amy Sillman, Richard Diebenkorn, Peter Doig, and Hurvin Anderson. For conceptual themes, I could mention Beatriz González and William Kentridge.
Is your vibrant use of colour more influenced by Colombian visual culture?
Yes, of course, my palette speaks about a specific place. The opaque, pastel colours are very common on the facades of houses where I grew up, and I think over the years, this has become a kind of identity for me. London hasn’t really affected my palette. It is, I suppose a bit like holding onto one’s accent.
Are there any secret symbols or codes in your work? I noticed a diamond appears in many works…
The diamond, or rhombus shape is very common on the facades of many houses in Colombia. Also in the windows and doors. It's a decorative element that I grew up seeing and that has always been a part of my environment. Even my grandfather, who worked in construction, created many reliefs of this shape in our town. A few years ago, I read an interesting article explaining how this symbol represented something positive for our ancestors, not only in South America but in various cultures worldwide. It is often linked to themes of fertility and good luck and is even associated with the image of a frog. Learning this gave the diamond shape a much broader meaning for me, transforming its decorative value into something more spiritual.
What separates fine art from graffiti?
The intention of the person who executes it.
Is it difficult to support yourself as an artist in London?
Sometimes, despite being quite a common struggle most young artists experience, the most challenging part hasn’t been the financial aspect. Painting is like a child that you need to protect and feed; someday that child may grow and feed you. I have always held flexible part-time jobs in museums and galleries, which have helped me support my artwork and reach my current position. Compared to my home country, London offers many work opportunities, and I consider myself very fortunate in that regard.
Did winning the Vortic Prize at the Untitled Art Fair, Miami, in 2024 affect your practice?
Of course it did. The Vortic Prize and, in general, the Untitled Art Fair in Miami was a great platform for my work, particularly given the context. My gallery, Alma Pearl made a strong presentation, and made connections with new collectors that engaged my work with a broader audience. The response we received there was overwhelmingly positive.
What makes a good studio?
Good light, a window, high walls and a big space that allows you to make a mess.
As you live in London, how do you draw visual inspiration from home? Do you use memory or photos, or travel back often?
All of the above. I have a digital and printed archive of images that capture places, landscapes, and elements connecting me to my homeland. Also, memory and the act of remembering play significant roles in my practice. Despite being far away, I have never disconnected from my country. All my family and close friends live there, so I try to visit once a year for an extended period. I go simply to live, without any intention of seeking inspiration or materials for my work. Yet often, during this everyday life, ideas and images evolve into something more once I return to London.
Congratulations on your exhibition ‘Reparacion’ at Alma Pearl, which ended in May. Have you already started a new series? What’s next for Jhonatan Pulido?
Thank you very much. I am currently working diligently and aiming to participate in some art fairs and exhibitions next year. I have many works in progress, but none are finished yet, which indicates that things are progressing well. This is generally how I approach my work, and I quite enjoy it. In my last exhibition, "Reparación," at Alma Pearl, I introduced various new techniques that I am now exploring, such as hand stitching and extending paint onto the walls. These elements are essential to the new body of work I am making..
We sat down with Colombian painter Jhonatan Pulido to discuss his recent exhibition Reparación at Alma Pearl, London, and find out more about his practice.
When did you start painting?
My interest in drawing and painting began from an early age and really took off in my teens around the age of 15. I greatly admired people who could create things on paper or canvas. These included still life, landscapes, or cartoons, so I decided to try my hand at it.
When did you know you wanted to be a full-time painter?
In my teens, I began taking drawing and painting classes at the Cultural Centre of my hometown in Granada, Meta, Colombia. I combined reading broadly across art history. At some point, I realised I was spending countless hours doing this and enjoyed it. I realised I wanted something like this for my life — to be immersed in the making and not to have to worry about what time I was going home, how many days until the weekend, or when a vacation would be. I wanted to feel the freedom and the pleasure that the creative process brings. Although I was already in the advanced student group, I asked to also take the beginners' classes over again and again. That way, I could be there all the time and try different things.
How is your work influenced by the Colombian civil war and ongoing conflict?
It's a theme that will always be present in my artistic practice, hence my colour palette, the intimidating texts claiming territory, the layering, etc. My work is a way of processing and healing my memories and my childhood fears, which perhaps remain adult fears, but disguised. Rather than saying that my work is influenced by the conflict, I would say it's about my relationship with those events, and with specific moments I experienced. I think talking about the Colombian conflict is something broad, complex, and delicate at the same time. An armed conflict always brings victims, pain and mourning, and this creates limits that I try not to cross, out of respect for those who have gone and for those who still await justice, truth, and reparation. Although a peace agreement was signed a few years ago, and the country enjoyed a relatively peaceful period, some illegal groups have re-armed in some areas, making things more complicated once again. It's sad to say, but in Colombia, there are people and political parties who don't want peace. It seems that it does not suit them.
At first, your works look abstract, but upon closer inspection, they could be depictions of real walls layered with graffiti. Do you ever copy real walls, or is this effect always created?
The walls and architectural forms of rural Colombia play a significant role in my painting. However, I never copy from photographs or follow a specific plan; I strive to avoid direct replication as much as possible. I believe that the essence of the wall that you talk about is conveyed through the accumulation of layers of paint and text. I also use tools like scrapers, rollers, sanders and heavy-duty brushes. In my view, combining these elements ultimately creates the effect of a wall’s surface.
Where do the slogans or words you choose come from?
These are divided into two groups. The first group consists of graffiti created by illegal armed groups on both the far left and the far right. Their tags and actions are typically executed quickly and aim to threaten opponents or assert control over territory. The second group encompasses commercial shop signs crafted by self-taught painters. These signs require more effort to create. I tend to focus on those that advertise repair services. In a country like mine, the concept of "repair" carries significant political and poetic implications linked to the political context and economy.
Which artists influence you the most?
For purely pictorial aspects, I could mention Amy Sillman, Richard Diebenkorn, Peter Doig, and Hurvin Anderson. For conceptual themes, I could mention Beatriz González and William Kentridge.
Is your vibrant use of colour more influenced by Colombian visual culture?
Yes, of course, my palette speaks about a specific place. The opaque, pastel colours are very common on the facades of houses where I grew up, and I think over the years, this has become a kind of identity for me. London hasn’t really affected my palette. It is, I suppose a bit like holding onto one’s accent.
Are there any secret symbols or codes in your work? I noticed a diamond appears in many works…
The diamond, or rhombus shape is very common on the facades of many houses in Colombia. Also in the windows and doors. It's a decorative element that I grew up seeing and that has always been a part of my environment. Even my grandfather, who worked in construction, created many reliefs of this shape in our town. A few years ago, I read an interesting article explaining how this symbol represented something positive for our ancestors, not only in South America but in various cultures worldwide. It is often linked to themes of fertility and good luck and is even associated with the image of a frog. Learning this gave the diamond shape a much broader meaning for me, transforming its decorative value into something more spiritual.
What separates fine art from graffiti?
The intention of the person who executes it.
Is it difficult to support yourself as an artist in London?
Sometimes, despite being quite a common struggle most young artists experience, the most challenging part hasn’t been the financial aspect. Painting is like a child that you need to protect and feed; someday that child may grow and feed you. I have always held flexible part-time jobs in museums and galleries, which have helped me support my artwork and reach my current position. Compared to my home country, London offers many work opportunities, and I consider myself very fortunate in that regard.
Did winning the Vortic Prize at the Untitled Art Fair, Miami, in 2024 affect your practice?
Of course it did. The Vortic Prize and, in general, the Untitled Art Fair in Miami was a great platform for my work, particularly given the context. My gallery, Alma Pearl made a strong presentation, and made connections with new collectors that engaged my work with a broader audience. The response we received there was overwhelmingly positive.
What makes a good studio?
Good light, a window, high walls and a big space that allows you to make a mess.
As you live in London, how do you draw visual inspiration from home? Do you use memory or photos, or travel back often?
All of the above. I have a digital and printed archive of images that capture places, landscapes, and elements connecting me to my homeland. Also, memory and the act of remembering play significant roles in my practice. Despite being far away, I have never disconnected from my country. All my family and close friends live there, so I try to visit once a year for an extended period. I go simply to live, without any intention of seeking inspiration or materials for my work. Yet often, during this everyday life, ideas and images evolve into something more once I return to London.
Congratulations on your exhibition ‘Reparacion’ at Alma Pearl, which ended in May. Have you already started a new series? What’s next for Jhonatan Pulido?
Thank you very much. I am currently working diligently and aiming to participate in some art fairs and exhibitions next year. I have many works in progress, but none are finished yet, which indicates that things are progressing well. This is generally how I approach my work, and I quite enjoy it. In my last exhibition, "Reparación," at Alma Pearl, I introduced various new techniques that I am now exploring, such as hand stitching and extending paint onto the walls. These elements are essential to the new body of work I am making..
We sat down with Colombian painter Jhonatan Pulido to discuss his recent exhibition Reparación at Alma Pearl, London, and find out more about his practice.
When did you start painting?
My interest in drawing and painting began from an early age and really took off in my teens around the age of 15. I greatly admired people who could create things on paper or canvas. These included still life, landscapes, or cartoons, so I decided to try my hand at it.
When did you know you wanted to be a full-time painter?
In my teens, I began taking drawing and painting classes at the Cultural Centre of my hometown in Granada, Meta, Colombia. I combined reading broadly across art history. At some point, I realised I was spending countless hours doing this and enjoyed it. I realised I wanted something like this for my life — to be immersed in the making and not to have to worry about what time I was going home, how many days until the weekend, or when a vacation would be. I wanted to feel the freedom and the pleasure that the creative process brings. Although I was already in the advanced student group, I asked to also take the beginners' classes over again and again. That way, I could be there all the time and try different things.
How is your work influenced by the Colombian civil war and ongoing conflict?
It's a theme that will always be present in my artistic practice, hence my colour palette, the intimidating texts claiming territory, the layering, etc. My work is a way of processing and healing my memories and my childhood fears, which perhaps remain adult fears, but disguised. Rather than saying that my work is influenced by the conflict, I would say it's about my relationship with those events, and with specific moments I experienced. I think talking about the Colombian conflict is something broad, complex, and delicate at the same time. An armed conflict always brings victims, pain and mourning, and this creates limits that I try not to cross, out of respect for those who have gone and for those who still await justice, truth, and reparation. Although a peace agreement was signed a few years ago, and the country enjoyed a relatively peaceful period, some illegal groups have re-armed in some areas, making things more complicated once again. It's sad to say, but in Colombia, there are people and political parties who don't want peace. It seems that it does not suit them.
At first, your works look abstract, but upon closer inspection, they could be depictions of real walls layered with graffiti. Do you ever copy real walls, or is this effect always created?
The walls and architectural forms of rural Colombia play a significant role in my painting. However, I never copy from photographs or follow a specific plan; I strive to avoid direct replication as much as possible. I believe that the essence of the wall that you talk about is conveyed through the accumulation of layers of paint and text. I also use tools like scrapers, rollers, sanders and heavy-duty brushes. In my view, combining these elements ultimately creates the effect of a wall’s surface.
Where do the slogans or words you choose come from?
These are divided into two groups. The first group consists of graffiti created by illegal armed groups on both the far left and the far right. Their tags and actions are typically executed quickly and aim to threaten opponents or assert control over territory. The second group encompasses commercial shop signs crafted by self-taught painters. These signs require more effort to create. I tend to focus on those that advertise repair services. In a country like mine, the concept of "repair" carries significant political and poetic implications linked to the political context and economy.
Which artists influence you the most?
For purely pictorial aspects, I could mention Amy Sillman, Richard Diebenkorn, Peter Doig, and Hurvin Anderson. For conceptual themes, I could mention Beatriz González and William Kentridge.
Is your vibrant use of colour more influenced by Colombian visual culture?
Yes, of course, my palette speaks about a specific place. The opaque, pastel colours are very common on the facades of houses where I grew up, and I think over the years, this has become a kind of identity for me. London hasn’t really affected my palette. It is, I suppose a bit like holding onto one’s accent.
Are there any secret symbols or codes in your work? I noticed a diamond appears in many works…
The diamond, or rhombus shape is very common on the facades of many houses in Colombia. Also in the windows and doors. It's a decorative element that I grew up seeing and that has always been a part of my environment. Even my grandfather, who worked in construction, created many reliefs of this shape in our town. A few years ago, I read an interesting article explaining how this symbol represented something positive for our ancestors, not only in South America but in various cultures worldwide. It is often linked to themes of fertility and good luck and is even associated with the image of a frog. Learning this gave the diamond shape a much broader meaning for me, transforming its decorative value into something more spiritual.
What separates fine art from graffiti?
The intention of the person who executes it.
Is it difficult to support yourself as an artist in London?
Sometimes, despite being quite a common struggle most young artists experience, the most challenging part hasn’t been the financial aspect. Painting is like a child that you need to protect and feed; someday that child may grow and feed you. I have always held flexible part-time jobs in museums and galleries, which have helped me support my artwork and reach my current position. Compared to my home country, London offers many work opportunities, and I consider myself very fortunate in that regard.
Did winning the Vortic Prize at the Untitled Art Fair, Miami, in 2024 affect your practice?
Of course it did. The Vortic Prize and, in general, the Untitled Art Fair in Miami was a great platform for my work, particularly given the context. My gallery, Alma Pearl made a strong presentation, and made connections with new collectors that engaged my work with a broader audience. The response we received there was overwhelmingly positive.
What makes a good studio?
Good light, a window, high walls and a big space that allows you to make a mess.
As you live in London, how do you draw visual inspiration from home? Do you use memory or photos, or travel back often?
All of the above. I have a digital and printed archive of images that capture places, landscapes, and elements connecting me to my homeland. Also, memory and the act of remembering play significant roles in my practice. Despite being far away, I have never disconnected from my country. All my family and close friends live there, so I try to visit once a year for an extended period. I go simply to live, without any intention of seeking inspiration or materials for my work. Yet often, during this everyday life, ideas and images evolve into something more once I return to London.
Congratulations on your exhibition ‘Reparacion’ at Alma Pearl, which ended in May. Have you already started a new series? What’s next for Jhonatan Pulido?
Thank you very much. I am currently working diligently and aiming to participate in some art fairs and exhibitions next year. I have many works in progress, but none are finished yet, which indicates that things are progressing well. This is generally how I approach my work, and I quite enjoy it. In my last exhibition, "Reparación," at Alma Pearl, I introduced various new techniques that I am now exploring, such as hand stitching and extending paint onto the walls. These elements are essential to the new body of work I am making..
We sat down with Colombian painter Jhonatan Pulido to discuss his recent exhibition Reparación at Alma Pearl, London, and find out more about his practice.
When did you start painting?
My interest in drawing and painting began from an early age and really took off in my teens around the age of 15. I greatly admired people who could create things on paper or canvas. These included still life, landscapes, or cartoons, so I decided to try my hand at it.
When did you know you wanted to be a full-time painter?
In my teens, I began taking drawing and painting classes at the Cultural Centre of my hometown in Granada, Meta, Colombia. I combined reading broadly across art history. At some point, I realised I was spending countless hours doing this and enjoyed it. I realised I wanted something like this for my life — to be immersed in the making and not to have to worry about what time I was going home, how many days until the weekend, or when a vacation would be. I wanted to feel the freedom and the pleasure that the creative process brings. Although I was already in the advanced student group, I asked to also take the beginners' classes over again and again. That way, I could be there all the time and try different things.
How is your work influenced by the Colombian civil war and ongoing conflict?
It's a theme that will always be present in my artistic practice, hence my colour palette, the intimidating texts claiming territory, the layering, etc. My work is a way of processing and healing my memories and my childhood fears, which perhaps remain adult fears, but disguised. Rather than saying that my work is influenced by the conflict, I would say it's about my relationship with those events, and with specific moments I experienced. I think talking about the Colombian conflict is something broad, complex, and delicate at the same time. An armed conflict always brings victims, pain and mourning, and this creates limits that I try not to cross, out of respect for those who have gone and for those who still await justice, truth, and reparation. Although a peace agreement was signed a few years ago, and the country enjoyed a relatively peaceful period, some illegal groups have re-armed in some areas, making things more complicated once again. It's sad to say, but in Colombia, there are people and political parties who don't want peace. It seems that it does not suit them.
At first, your works look abstract, but upon closer inspection, they could be depictions of real walls layered with graffiti. Do you ever copy real walls, or is this effect always created?
The walls and architectural forms of rural Colombia play a significant role in my painting. However, I never copy from photographs or follow a specific plan; I strive to avoid direct replication as much as possible. I believe that the essence of the wall that you talk about is conveyed through the accumulation of layers of paint and text. I also use tools like scrapers, rollers, sanders and heavy-duty brushes. In my view, combining these elements ultimately creates the effect of a wall’s surface.
Where do the slogans or words you choose come from?
These are divided into two groups. The first group consists of graffiti created by illegal armed groups on both the far left and the far right. Their tags and actions are typically executed quickly and aim to threaten opponents or assert control over territory. The second group encompasses commercial shop signs crafted by self-taught painters. These signs require more effort to create. I tend to focus on those that advertise repair services. In a country like mine, the concept of "repair" carries significant political and poetic implications linked to the political context and economy.
Which artists influence you the most?
For purely pictorial aspects, I could mention Amy Sillman, Richard Diebenkorn, Peter Doig, and Hurvin Anderson. For conceptual themes, I could mention Beatriz González and William Kentridge.
Is your vibrant use of colour more influenced by Colombian visual culture?
Yes, of course, my palette speaks about a specific place. The opaque, pastel colours are very common on the facades of houses where I grew up, and I think over the years, this has become a kind of identity for me. London hasn’t really affected my palette. It is, I suppose a bit like holding onto one’s accent.
Are there any secret symbols or codes in your work? I noticed a diamond appears in many works…
The diamond, or rhombus shape is very common on the facades of many houses in Colombia. Also in the windows and doors. It's a decorative element that I grew up seeing and that has always been a part of my environment. Even my grandfather, who worked in construction, created many reliefs of this shape in our town. A few years ago, I read an interesting article explaining how this symbol represented something positive for our ancestors, not only in South America but in various cultures worldwide. It is often linked to themes of fertility and good luck and is even associated with the image of a frog. Learning this gave the diamond shape a much broader meaning for me, transforming its decorative value into something more spiritual.
What separates fine art from graffiti?
The intention of the person who executes it.
Is it difficult to support yourself as an artist in London?
Sometimes, despite being quite a common struggle most young artists experience, the most challenging part hasn’t been the financial aspect. Painting is like a child that you need to protect and feed; someday that child may grow and feed you. I have always held flexible part-time jobs in museums and galleries, which have helped me support my artwork and reach my current position. Compared to my home country, London offers many work opportunities, and I consider myself very fortunate in that regard.
Did winning the Vortic Prize at the Untitled Art Fair, Miami, in 2024 affect your practice?
Of course it did. The Vortic Prize and, in general, the Untitled Art Fair in Miami was a great platform for my work, particularly given the context. My gallery, Alma Pearl made a strong presentation, and made connections with new collectors that engaged my work with a broader audience. The response we received there was overwhelmingly positive.
What makes a good studio?
Good light, a window, high walls and a big space that allows you to make a mess.
As you live in London, how do you draw visual inspiration from home? Do you use memory or photos, or travel back often?
All of the above. I have a digital and printed archive of images that capture places, landscapes, and elements connecting me to my homeland. Also, memory and the act of remembering play significant roles in my practice. Despite being far away, I have never disconnected from my country. All my family and close friends live there, so I try to visit once a year for an extended period. I go simply to live, without any intention of seeking inspiration or materials for my work. Yet often, during this everyday life, ideas and images evolve into something more once I return to London.
Congratulations on your exhibition ‘Reparacion’ at Alma Pearl, which ended in May. Have you already started a new series? What’s next for Jhonatan Pulido?
Thank you very much. I am currently working diligently and aiming to participate in some art fairs and exhibitions next year. I have many works in progress, but none are finished yet, which indicates that things are progressing well. This is generally how I approach my work, and I quite enjoy it. In my last exhibition, "Reparación," at Alma Pearl, I introduced various new techniques that I am now exploring, such as hand stitching and extending paint onto the walls. These elements are essential to the new body of work I am making..
We sat down with Colombian painter Jhonatan Pulido to discuss his recent exhibition Reparación at Alma Pearl, London, and find out more about his practice.
When did you start painting?
My interest in drawing and painting began from an early age and really took off in my teens around the age of 15. I greatly admired people who could create things on paper or canvas. These included still life, landscapes, or cartoons, so I decided to try my hand at it.
When did you know you wanted to be a full-time painter?
In my teens, I began taking drawing and painting classes at the Cultural Centre of my hometown in Granada, Meta, Colombia. I combined reading broadly across art history. At some point, I realised I was spending countless hours doing this and enjoyed it. I realised I wanted something like this for my life — to be immersed in the making and not to have to worry about what time I was going home, how many days until the weekend, or when a vacation would be. I wanted to feel the freedom and the pleasure that the creative process brings. Although I was already in the advanced student group, I asked to also take the beginners' classes over again and again. That way, I could be there all the time and try different things.
How is your work influenced by the Colombian civil war and ongoing conflict?
It's a theme that will always be present in my artistic practice, hence my colour palette, the intimidating texts claiming territory, the layering, etc. My work is a way of processing and healing my memories and my childhood fears, which perhaps remain adult fears, but disguised. Rather than saying that my work is influenced by the conflict, I would say it's about my relationship with those events, and with specific moments I experienced. I think talking about the Colombian conflict is something broad, complex, and delicate at the same time. An armed conflict always brings victims, pain and mourning, and this creates limits that I try not to cross, out of respect for those who have gone and for those who still await justice, truth, and reparation. Although a peace agreement was signed a few years ago, and the country enjoyed a relatively peaceful period, some illegal groups have re-armed in some areas, making things more complicated once again. It's sad to say, but in Colombia, there are people and political parties who don't want peace. It seems that it does not suit them.
At first, your works look abstract, but upon closer inspection, they could be depictions of real walls layered with graffiti. Do you ever copy real walls, or is this effect always created?
The walls and architectural forms of rural Colombia play a significant role in my painting. However, I never copy from photographs or follow a specific plan; I strive to avoid direct replication as much as possible. I believe that the essence of the wall that you talk about is conveyed through the accumulation of layers of paint and text. I also use tools like scrapers, rollers, sanders and heavy-duty brushes. In my view, combining these elements ultimately creates the effect of a wall’s surface.
Where do the slogans or words you choose come from?
These are divided into two groups. The first group consists of graffiti created by illegal armed groups on both the far left and the far right. Their tags and actions are typically executed quickly and aim to threaten opponents or assert control over territory. The second group encompasses commercial shop signs crafted by self-taught painters. These signs require more effort to create. I tend to focus on those that advertise repair services. In a country like mine, the concept of "repair" carries significant political and poetic implications linked to the political context and economy.
Which artists influence you the most?
For purely pictorial aspects, I could mention Amy Sillman, Richard Diebenkorn, Peter Doig, and Hurvin Anderson. For conceptual themes, I could mention Beatriz González and William Kentridge.
Is your vibrant use of colour more influenced by Colombian visual culture?
Yes, of course, my palette speaks about a specific place. The opaque, pastel colours are very common on the facades of houses where I grew up, and I think over the years, this has become a kind of identity for me. London hasn’t really affected my palette. It is, I suppose a bit like holding onto one’s accent.
Are there any secret symbols or codes in your work? I noticed a diamond appears in many works…
The diamond, or rhombus shape is very common on the facades of many houses in Colombia. Also in the windows and doors. It's a decorative element that I grew up seeing and that has always been a part of my environment. Even my grandfather, who worked in construction, created many reliefs of this shape in our town. A few years ago, I read an interesting article explaining how this symbol represented something positive for our ancestors, not only in South America but in various cultures worldwide. It is often linked to themes of fertility and good luck and is even associated with the image of a frog. Learning this gave the diamond shape a much broader meaning for me, transforming its decorative value into something more spiritual.
What separates fine art from graffiti?
The intention of the person who executes it.
Is it difficult to support yourself as an artist in London?
Sometimes, despite being quite a common struggle most young artists experience, the most challenging part hasn’t been the financial aspect. Painting is like a child that you need to protect and feed; someday that child may grow and feed you. I have always held flexible part-time jobs in museums and galleries, which have helped me support my artwork and reach my current position. Compared to my home country, London offers many work opportunities, and I consider myself very fortunate in that regard.
Did winning the Vortic Prize at the Untitled Art Fair, Miami, in 2024 affect your practice?
Of course it did. The Vortic Prize and, in general, the Untitled Art Fair in Miami was a great platform for my work, particularly given the context. My gallery, Alma Pearl made a strong presentation, and made connections with new collectors that engaged my work with a broader audience. The response we received there was overwhelmingly positive.
What makes a good studio?
Good light, a window, high walls and a big space that allows you to make a mess.
As you live in London, how do you draw visual inspiration from home? Do you use memory or photos, or travel back often?
All of the above. I have a digital and printed archive of images that capture places, landscapes, and elements connecting me to my homeland. Also, memory and the act of remembering play significant roles in my practice. Despite being far away, I have never disconnected from my country. All my family and close friends live there, so I try to visit once a year for an extended period. I go simply to live, without any intention of seeking inspiration or materials for my work. Yet often, during this everyday life, ideas and images evolve into something more once I return to London.
Congratulations on your exhibition ‘Reparacion’ at Alma Pearl, which ended in May. Have you already started a new series? What’s next for Jhonatan Pulido?
Thank you very much. I am currently working diligently and aiming to participate in some art fairs and exhibitions next year. I have many works in progress, but none are finished yet, which indicates that things are progressing well. This is generally how I approach my work, and I quite enjoy it. In my last exhibition, "Reparación," at Alma Pearl, I introduced various new techniques that I am now exploring, such as hand stitching and extending paint onto the walls. These elements are essential to the new body of work I am making..
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