Mireia Mateoesp  Instagram Mireia Mateo

Poetic univers
It never happen Simultaneities 1 1 Grisallas 7 Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled
Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled
Rain 3 Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Garúa Untitled Essential place Untitled Untitled Untitled Wind The city of the immortals 1 Rain 1 Untitled Untitled Landscape 5 Rain 2 Untitled Untitled Landscape The city of the immortals2 Untitled Untitled Stroll Laguna Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Untitled Landscape1 Untitled Untitled
Ain 3 Paisaje subterráneo Ain 7 Birds of Ain Rêve 3 My heart beating Fragment of Ain Ain 8 Ain 6 Ain 4 Ain 11 Closed nature 1 1 Ain 5 Cassé Closed nature 2 Rêve 2 Rêve 1 Rêve 5

Group exhibitions

Espai de lliure creació 2018 Sant Just Desvern. Spain. "sigues original".
Km.7 Espai d'Art 2018 Girona. Spain. "0 figura".
Fundació Vila Casas. Can Framis Museum 2018 Barcelona.
Círculo Artístico Sant Lluc 2016 Barcelona. 'Select 2016'.
Esther Monturiol 2015 Barcelona. "Delicartessen 14".
Círculo Artístico Sant Lluc 2015 Barcelona. Colectiva.
Museu del Disseny de Barcelona 2015. 'Síntesi 90'.
Galería "untitled BCN" 2015 Barcelona.
Galería "untitled BCN" 2014 Barcelona.
Esther Monturiol 2013 Barcelona. "Delicartessen 12".
Esther Monturiol 2012 Barcelona. "Delicartessen 11".
Sala libertad 2008 Barcelona. "Libertad creadora".
Círculo Artístico Sant Lluc 2008 Barcelona. Colectiva de pintura.
Círculo Artístico Sant Lluc 2008 Barcelona. Colectiva de dibujo.
Espacio Mallorca 2007 Barcelona. "Papeles cruzados".
Proyecto visual 2007 Girona. Spain. "Heterosis".
Cosmocaixa 2006 Barcelona. "Libros de artista".
Esther Monturiol 2006 Barcelona. "Delicartessen 4".
Esther Monturiol 2005 Barcelona. "Delicartessen 3".
Esther Monturiol 2004 Barcelona. "Delicartessen 2".

Solo exhibitions

Sala Pares 2019, (from September 4 to October 7) Barcelona. "Invented memories".
Gallery Brocken 2019, (from November 16 to November 24) Tokyo, Japan.
Artacasa 2014 Barcelona. "Atles de tropismes".
Museo Nahim Isaías 2009 Guayaquil, Ecuador. "Estrofas".
Castillo de Perelada 2009 Perelada, Spain. "Velar, despertar. Fragmentos".
Centro Cívico Pere Pruna 2008 Barcelona. "Límits".


Finalist in the Ynglada-Guillot International Drawing Prize, 2018.
Finalist in the 15thprize for painting Ricard Camí, 2017.
Book 'Barcelona. Mar viva', 2017.
Finalist in the 13th prize for painting Ricard Camí, 2013.
Moving allowance, Instituto Ramón Llull, 2009.

Photography by Daniela Roman

Martín Guerra Muente

Critic of art, teacher and researcher

In construction

Maria dels Àngels Custoja i Ripoll

Art historian and professor at SPOL


I'll begin with a phrase from Mireia that goes like this: “Each work is like a strophe in a simple poem, maybe in a sentence”. Mireia is revealed through the lyricism of her paper: torn, cut, crumpled, torched, and she claims that “nature is expressive in all of its extension”.
But, what happens to us when in front of her works? Despite the simplicity of her compositions, the correspondence with the spectator leads to reflection, to a game of revealing in order to know, and of knowing in order to interpret. Mireia takes us to a space where reality stays outside, a world within a world, the rest remaining suspended. The game of discovering the hidden clues of her art, unknown to the spectator, essential to be able to look into the depths of nature, to look beyond looking, something that accesses the material, the paper, the humble paper as she calls it. To look at what cannot be seen from reality. An exhalation that nowadays we perceive as evident, because nature surrounds us, but hidden, because it is not easy to establish connections with contemporary and postmodern art, as we are separated by a veil, that if lifted, we'll discover in its mysticism: the silence that talks to us."Strophes" offers us a look towards the vanishing point that makes the visible fall away from our hands and disappear towards the infinite, at the same time, making the invisible appear.
A simple art in my opinion, but one, in turns, full of details, of symbols impregnated with mysticism that speak of silence. It is a work full of musicality in its stanzas, fragments of paper with the rhythm and rhyme of nature, with which I believe to have started a communication; a sensitive and spiritual dialogue that welcomes us, with deep hospitality, transmitting us a mix of impressions, intuitions, of different senses: listening to colours, seeing sounds and perceiving textures. It is like a synesthesia where Mireia reveals metaphysical intentions, since through her art she uses literary language as a cognitive tool, managing to give off an aura of exhalation, product of the contemplation of her chosen landscapes.
How does Mireia's work communicate to us? Through showing its subjectivity, it make us confront ourselves, forcing us to establish a connection with her art, her experience around nature. It makes us hold her work with the same affection she holds for us, to have communication, to be in a conversation through her strophes with which she constructs a space, a space where the spectator can travel through. The space of her art takes us to the land of her experience and, in our meeting with it, other images are conjured in our heads, other sounds, other textures that resonate with our own living experiences, to other connections: the interior place and the exterior, understanding and misunderstanding, union and separation, in and out. The correspondences of the spectators that respond to the unexpected, or maybe also, to what one does not expect, but that is. Ultimately "Strophes" is a work of art that, had it not been created, it would be something more than a void, one of those lives, one of those moments that we could have lived, one of those journeys that we'd never had taken. Her work is a journey where she shows us her own experiences, a subjective experience, that we all, at some moment of our lives, have lived. In some way, that experience is actualised and we feel really identified with it despite being an abstract work, four torn pieces of paper. What is the meaning of this, being used, as we are, to be able to easily identify these icons as they show themselves the way they are in reality? Here we are shown a reality that cannot be satisfied with just looking. It demands that you go further beyond the mere surface of the work, it needs for you to get to the essence, to delve inside, travel through it, to take an in-depth look, to be able to understand, which is, I believe, the key of contemporary and postmodern art.

Alicia Marsans


The love of paper. It’s a love story.
The exercise of humility begins when someone starts painting, takes a sheet of paper from the floor, looks at it from the soul, respects it. The paper is folded and its corners turn up; there begins the poetry, by simply observing and respecting.
The painter plays with the papers because the painting is always a game, albeit a serious game.

Text for the exhibition‘ To veil, to awaken. Fragments’

Enrique Vila-Matas


" Mateo's works, where I can perceive the new, the inmentionable : traces, drifts, tropisms, remains of a wandering firmament..."

Mireia Mateo

About the Series Invented Memories

Places that never existed, where all that was lived never occurred. And despite everything, places to live in, or perhaps better, places where it would have been possible to live.

It is necessary to become mute "whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent" and to unburden oneself from the weight of what's been lived before. Like the harmonious aura of what is nascent, in that precise moment that lies between feeling the vibration and the stroke, to begin an invented memory to shape the "violent hangover of the void".

And at last to articulate a silence where that ancient and remote rumour can be heard... I remember having heard it that burning morning of intense heat and milky light in that expanse that" had shrunk to a single blind, insensate point"

“Selbst die als Kinder ihr pflanztet, die Bäume,
wurden zu schwer längst; ihr trüget sie nicht.
Aber die Lüfte …aber die Räume…”*

*"The trees you planted in childhood have grown
too heavy. You cannot bring them along.
Give yourselves to the air, to what you cannot hold."

Sebald, W.G., The Rings of Saturn
Rilke, Rainer Marie, Sonetts to Orpheus
Wittgenstein, Ludwig, Tractatus Logicus-Philosophicus
Cage, John, Silence .


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