Housed in the historic Palmer Tyre Company building—once responsible for producing the Supermarine Spitfire fighter aircraft used by the RAF in the Second World War—is the Palmer Gallery, a new haven for emerging artists. With striking remnants of the building’s wartime past, such as the old Palmer Tyre sign near the entrance or the pulley system on top of the building, the Gallery blends its rich history with the contemporary.
The Gallery currently showcases Albano Hernández’s solo exhibition, Trash/Value. In an interview with the artist, we find out more about the vision behind his work, more about the Spanish meat production industry and why and how he incorporated everyday trash into his artwork:
Can you tell me a little about meat production in Ávila, Spain and how this industry affected you?
Ávila is part of a region of Spain where everything related to meat, from its production to its final consumption, is part of the local culture. The meat of Ávila is known for its quality, having as its flagship the “Avileña” veal, a breed of cow that is raised with extensive livestock on pastures in mountainous areas. Due to various geographical, political and cultural factors, production is most important to the regional economy.
Due to the intense demand increase and digitalization boom, we see pre-industrial systems coexisting with new industrial processes. This means the co-existence of extensive and sustainable livestock farming as opposed to the intensive production of macro-farms, which is characterized by the use of industrial processes, irresponsible use of natural resources, use of additives and medicines, animal abuse and many more drastic factors based on maximizing production while minimizing costs.
In light of all this, it is also interesting to look at rituals such as “la matanza”, where pigs are slaughtered and cut up, and everything inside of them is used, which originally was a social event that brought people from the community together.
Can you discuss Anonymous, 2024, made from cattle ear tags and steel nail installation? What inspired you to use these materials and the tags? What does this work symbolize?
The installation Anonymous consists of 277 cattle ear tags arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. Mass-produced ear tags from plastic serve as data repositories, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.
Lucas Giles, co-founder of the Gallery, mentioned the whimsy in your work. What prompted you to create Desire, a rotating artwork resembling a rotisserie chicken, and do you see it as a lighthearted way of looking at the meat production industry?
I appreciate art with a touch of humour, and life is always brighter when we smile. The context and aura of the glass dome and its rotation highlight the fundamental role that commodity fetishism plays in my practice and the relevance of the outer skin of the luxury good.
Most of your works in this exhibition incorporate waste materials. Why was that important to do?
I believe that growing up in a historic city has made me more attuned to memory and to everything we leave behind for future generations. With this in mind, my work has always focused on waste and leftovers.
Before joining the Royal College of Art, my paintings focused on the elements used to create the images. During my MA, I evolved my practice, shifting from representing these materials to presenting them directly. I aim to upcycle as many of the materials that come into the studio as possible. My goal is to create a circular economy guided by a zero-waste policy.
In this context, I’m especially proud of The Shadow, an organic painting I created on the grass of Regent’s Park during the latest edition of Frieze Sculpture, thanks to Pi Artworks and curator Fatos Üstek, who championed a fully sustainable project. The Shadow was painted with organic pigments that don’t damage the grass, disrupt the park’s wildlife, or leave a carbon footprint in transportation. If you’re interested in this project, I invite you to visit the Dulwich Picture Gallery, where I’ll paint The Shadow live starting mid-February.
What was the process of including waste materials with clay, and how did you bring these works to life?
In these processes, I follow a circular economy policy that allows me to reduce the amount of waste generated, establish dialogues between different works, and generate a more elastic and sustainable practice. The first step of this process is to create a dough with air-dry clay, PVA, acrylic, and waste materials. Once the matter is almost dried, I use an electric food slicer to fragment it mechanically into slices, displayed from left to right, top to bottom. It is a simple and mechanical process that embodies complex political content in its materiality and methodology.
What impact are you hoping this exhibition will have on the visitor?
My practice impacts different tempos depending on the work. Some pieces, like Anonymous or The Shadow, draw attention for being large-scale projects with a more direct reading, while intimate works require more time to approach and absorb the complex process behind their creation. In any case, everyone has their own pace and perception, so all I can do is extend an invitation to visit Trash/Value at Palmer Gallery.
Housed in the historic Palmer Tyre Company building—once responsible for producing the Supermarine Spitfire fighter aircraft used by the RAF in the Second World War—is the Palmer Gallery, a new haven for emerging artists. With striking remnants of the building’s wartime past, such as the old Palmer Tyre sign near the entrance or the pulley system on top of the building, the Gallery blends its rich history with the contemporary.
The Gallery currently showcases Albano Hernández’s solo exhibition, Trash/Value. In an interview with the artist, we find out more about the vision behind his work, more about the Spanish meat production industry and why and how he incorporated everyday trash into his artwork:
Can you tell me a little about meat production in Ávila, Spain and how this industry affected you?
Ávila is part of a region of Spain where everything related to meat, from its production to its final consumption, is part of the local culture. The meat of Ávila is known for its quality, having as its flagship the “Avileña” veal, a breed of cow that is raised with extensive livestock on pastures in mountainous areas. Due to various geographical, political and cultural factors, production is most important to the regional economy.
Due to the intense demand increase and digitalization boom, we see pre-industrial systems coexisting with new industrial processes. This means the co-existence of extensive and sustainable livestock farming as opposed to the intensive production of macro-farms, which is characterized by the use of industrial processes, irresponsible use of natural resources, use of additives and medicines, animal abuse and many more drastic factors based on maximizing production while minimizing costs.
In light of all this, it is also interesting to look at rituals such as “la matanza”, where pigs are slaughtered and cut up, and everything inside of them is used, which originally was a social event that brought people from the community together.
Can you discuss Anonymous, 2024, made from cattle ear tags and steel nail installation? What inspired you to use these materials and the tags? What does this work symbolize?
The installation Anonymous consists of 277 cattle ear tags arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. Mass-produced ear tags from plastic serve as data repositories, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.
Lucas Giles, co-founder of the Gallery, mentioned the whimsy in your work. What prompted you to create Desire, a rotating artwork resembling a rotisserie chicken, and do you see it as a lighthearted way of looking at the meat production industry?
I appreciate art with a touch of humour, and life is always brighter when we smile. The context and aura of the glass dome and its rotation highlight the fundamental role that commodity fetishism plays in my practice and the relevance of the outer skin of the luxury good.
Most of your works in this exhibition incorporate waste materials. Why was that important to do?
I believe that growing up in a historic city has made me more attuned to memory and to everything we leave behind for future generations. With this in mind, my work has always focused on waste and leftovers.
Before joining the Royal College of Art, my paintings focused on the elements used to create the images. During my MA, I evolved my practice, shifting from representing these materials to presenting them directly. I aim to upcycle as many of the materials that come into the studio as possible. My goal is to create a circular economy guided by a zero-waste policy.
In this context, I’m especially proud of The Shadow, an organic painting I created on the grass of Regent’s Park during the latest edition of Frieze Sculpture, thanks to Pi Artworks and curator Fatos Üstek, who championed a fully sustainable project. The Shadow was painted with organic pigments that don’t damage the grass, disrupt the park’s wildlife, or leave a carbon footprint in transportation. If you’re interested in this project, I invite you to visit the Dulwich Picture Gallery, where I’ll paint The Shadow live starting mid-February.
What was the process of including waste materials with clay, and how did you bring these works to life?
In these processes, I follow a circular economy policy that allows me to reduce the amount of waste generated, establish dialogues between different works, and generate a more elastic and sustainable practice. The first step of this process is to create a dough with air-dry clay, PVA, acrylic, and waste materials. Once the matter is almost dried, I use an electric food slicer to fragment it mechanically into slices, displayed from left to right, top to bottom. It is a simple and mechanical process that embodies complex political content in its materiality and methodology.
What impact are you hoping this exhibition will have on the visitor?
My practice impacts different tempos depending on the work. Some pieces, like Anonymous or The Shadow, draw attention for being large-scale projects with a more direct reading, while intimate works require more time to approach and absorb the complex process behind their creation. In any case, everyone has their own pace and perception, so all I can do is extend an invitation to visit Trash/Value at Palmer Gallery.
Housed in the historic Palmer Tyre Company building—once responsible for producing the Supermarine Spitfire fighter aircraft used by the RAF in the Second World War—is the Palmer Gallery, a new haven for emerging artists. With striking remnants of the building’s wartime past, such as the old Palmer Tyre sign near the entrance or the pulley system on top of the building, the Gallery blends its rich history with the contemporary.
The Gallery currently showcases Albano Hernández’s solo exhibition, Trash/Value. In an interview with the artist, we find out more about the vision behind his work, more about the Spanish meat production industry and why and how he incorporated everyday trash into his artwork:
Can you tell me a little about meat production in Ávila, Spain and how this industry affected you?
Ávila is part of a region of Spain where everything related to meat, from its production to its final consumption, is part of the local culture. The meat of Ávila is known for its quality, having as its flagship the “Avileña” veal, a breed of cow that is raised with extensive livestock on pastures in mountainous areas. Due to various geographical, political and cultural factors, production is most important to the regional economy.
Due to the intense demand increase and digitalization boom, we see pre-industrial systems coexisting with new industrial processes. This means the co-existence of extensive and sustainable livestock farming as opposed to the intensive production of macro-farms, which is characterized by the use of industrial processes, irresponsible use of natural resources, use of additives and medicines, animal abuse and many more drastic factors based on maximizing production while minimizing costs.
In light of all this, it is also interesting to look at rituals such as “la matanza”, where pigs are slaughtered and cut up, and everything inside of them is used, which originally was a social event that brought people from the community together.
Can you discuss Anonymous, 2024, made from cattle ear tags and steel nail installation? What inspired you to use these materials and the tags? What does this work symbolize?
The installation Anonymous consists of 277 cattle ear tags arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. Mass-produced ear tags from plastic serve as data repositories, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.
Lucas Giles, co-founder of the Gallery, mentioned the whimsy in your work. What prompted you to create Desire, a rotating artwork resembling a rotisserie chicken, and do you see it as a lighthearted way of looking at the meat production industry?
I appreciate art with a touch of humour, and life is always brighter when we smile. The context and aura of the glass dome and its rotation highlight the fundamental role that commodity fetishism plays in my practice and the relevance of the outer skin of the luxury good.
Most of your works in this exhibition incorporate waste materials. Why was that important to do?
I believe that growing up in a historic city has made me more attuned to memory and to everything we leave behind for future generations. With this in mind, my work has always focused on waste and leftovers.
Before joining the Royal College of Art, my paintings focused on the elements used to create the images. During my MA, I evolved my practice, shifting from representing these materials to presenting them directly. I aim to upcycle as many of the materials that come into the studio as possible. My goal is to create a circular economy guided by a zero-waste policy.
In this context, I’m especially proud of The Shadow, an organic painting I created on the grass of Regent’s Park during the latest edition of Frieze Sculpture, thanks to Pi Artworks and curator Fatos Üstek, who championed a fully sustainable project. The Shadow was painted with organic pigments that don’t damage the grass, disrupt the park’s wildlife, or leave a carbon footprint in transportation. If you’re interested in this project, I invite you to visit the Dulwich Picture Gallery, where I’ll paint The Shadow live starting mid-February.
What was the process of including waste materials with clay, and how did you bring these works to life?
In these processes, I follow a circular economy policy that allows me to reduce the amount of waste generated, establish dialogues between different works, and generate a more elastic and sustainable practice. The first step of this process is to create a dough with air-dry clay, PVA, acrylic, and waste materials. Once the matter is almost dried, I use an electric food slicer to fragment it mechanically into slices, displayed from left to right, top to bottom. It is a simple and mechanical process that embodies complex political content in its materiality and methodology.
What impact are you hoping this exhibition will have on the visitor?
My practice impacts different tempos depending on the work. Some pieces, like Anonymous or The Shadow, draw attention for being large-scale projects with a more direct reading, while intimate works require more time to approach and absorb the complex process behind their creation. In any case, everyone has their own pace and perception, so all I can do is extend an invitation to visit Trash/Value at Palmer Gallery.
Housed in the historic Palmer Tyre Company building—once responsible for producing the Supermarine Spitfire fighter aircraft used by the RAF in the Second World War—is the Palmer Gallery, a new haven for emerging artists. With striking remnants of the building’s wartime past, such as the old Palmer Tyre sign near the entrance or the pulley system on top of the building, the Gallery blends its rich history with the contemporary.
The Gallery currently showcases Albano Hernández’s solo exhibition, Trash/Value. In an interview with the artist, we find out more about the vision behind his work, more about the Spanish meat production industry and why and how he incorporated everyday trash into his artwork:
Can you tell me a little about meat production in Ávila, Spain and how this industry affected you?
Ávila is part of a region of Spain where everything related to meat, from its production to its final consumption, is part of the local culture. The meat of Ávila is known for its quality, having as its flagship the “Avileña” veal, a breed of cow that is raised with extensive livestock on pastures in mountainous areas. Due to various geographical, political and cultural factors, production is most important to the regional economy.
Due to the intense demand increase and digitalization boom, we see pre-industrial systems coexisting with new industrial processes. This means the co-existence of extensive and sustainable livestock farming as opposed to the intensive production of macro-farms, which is characterized by the use of industrial processes, irresponsible use of natural resources, use of additives and medicines, animal abuse and many more drastic factors based on maximizing production while minimizing costs.
In light of all this, it is also interesting to look at rituals such as “la matanza”, where pigs are slaughtered and cut up, and everything inside of them is used, which originally was a social event that brought people from the community together.
Can you discuss Anonymous, 2024, made from cattle ear tags and steel nail installation? What inspired you to use these materials and the tags? What does this work symbolize?
The installation Anonymous consists of 277 cattle ear tags arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. Mass-produced ear tags from plastic serve as data repositories, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.
Lucas Giles, co-founder of the Gallery, mentioned the whimsy in your work. What prompted you to create Desire, a rotating artwork resembling a rotisserie chicken, and do you see it as a lighthearted way of looking at the meat production industry?
I appreciate art with a touch of humour, and life is always brighter when we smile. The context and aura of the glass dome and its rotation highlight the fundamental role that commodity fetishism plays in my practice and the relevance of the outer skin of the luxury good.
Most of your works in this exhibition incorporate waste materials. Why was that important to do?
I believe that growing up in a historic city has made me more attuned to memory and to everything we leave behind for future generations. With this in mind, my work has always focused on waste and leftovers.
Before joining the Royal College of Art, my paintings focused on the elements used to create the images. During my MA, I evolved my practice, shifting from representing these materials to presenting them directly. I aim to upcycle as many of the materials that come into the studio as possible. My goal is to create a circular economy guided by a zero-waste policy.
In this context, I’m especially proud of The Shadow, an organic painting I created on the grass of Regent’s Park during the latest edition of Frieze Sculpture, thanks to Pi Artworks and curator Fatos Üstek, who championed a fully sustainable project. The Shadow was painted with organic pigments that don’t damage the grass, disrupt the park’s wildlife, or leave a carbon footprint in transportation. If you’re interested in this project, I invite you to visit the Dulwich Picture Gallery, where I’ll paint The Shadow live starting mid-February.
What was the process of including waste materials with clay, and how did you bring these works to life?
In these processes, I follow a circular economy policy that allows me to reduce the amount of waste generated, establish dialogues between different works, and generate a more elastic and sustainable practice. The first step of this process is to create a dough with air-dry clay, PVA, acrylic, and waste materials. Once the matter is almost dried, I use an electric food slicer to fragment it mechanically into slices, displayed from left to right, top to bottom. It is a simple and mechanical process that embodies complex political content in its materiality and methodology.
What impact are you hoping this exhibition will have on the visitor?
My practice impacts different tempos depending on the work. Some pieces, like Anonymous or The Shadow, draw attention for being large-scale projects with a more direct reading, while intimate works require more time to approach and absorb the complex process behind their creation. In any case, everyone has their own pace and perception, so all I can do is extend an invitation to visit Trash/Value at Palmer Gallery.
Housed in the historic Palmer Tyre Company building—once responsible for producing the Supermarine Spitfire fighter aircraft used by the RAF in the Second World War—is the Palmer Gallery, a new haven for emerging artists. With striking remnants of the building’s wartime past, such as the old Palmer Tyre sign near the entrance or the pulley system on top of the building, the Gallery blends its rich history with the contemporary.
The Gallery currently showcases Albano Hernández’s solo exhibition, Trash/Value. In an interview with the artist, we find out more about the vision behind his work, more about the Spanish meat production industry and why and how he incorporated everyday trash into his artwork:
Can you tell me a little about meat production in Ávila, Spain and how this industry affected you?
Ávila is part of a region of Spain where everything related to meat, from its production to its final consumption, is part of the local culture. The meat of Ávila is known for its quality, having as its flagship the “Avileña” veal, a breed of cow that is raised with extensive livestock on pastures in mountainous areas. Due to various geographical, political and cultural factors, production is most important to the regional economy.
Due to the intense demand increase and digitalization boom, we see pre-industrial systems coexisting with new industrial processes. This means the co-existence of extensive and sustainable livestock farming as opposed to the intensive production of macro-farms, which is characterized by the use of industrial processes, irresponsible use of natural resources, use of additives and medicines, animal abuse and many more drastic factors based on maximizing production while minimizing costs.
In light of all this, it is also interesting to look at rituals such as “la matanza”, where pigs are slaughtered and cut up, and everything inside of them is used, which originally was a social event that brought people from the community together.
Can you discuss Anonymous, 2024, made from cattle ear tags and steel nail installation? What inspired you to use these materials and the tags? What does this work symbolize?
The installation Anonymous consists of 277 cattle ear tags arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. Mass-produced ear tags from plastic serve as data repositories, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.
Lucas Giles, co-founder of the Gallery, mentioned the whimsy in your work. What prompted you to create Desire, a rotating artwork resembling a rotisserie chicken, and do you see it as a lighthearted way of looking at the meat production industry?
I appreciate art with a touch of humour, and life is always brighter when we smile. The context and aura of the glass dome and its rotation highlight the fundamental role that commodity fetishism plays in my practice and the relevance of the outer skin of the luxury good.
Most of your works in this exhibition incorporate waste materials. Why was that important to do?
I believe that growing up in a historic city has made me more attuned to memory and to everything we leave behind for future generations. With this in mind, my work has always focused on waste and leftovers.
Before joining the Royal College of Art, my paintings focused on the elements used to create the images. During my MA, I evolved my practice, shifting from representing these materials to presenting them directly. I aim to upcycle as many of the materials that come into the studio as possible. My goal is to create a circular economy guided by a zero-waste policy.
In this context, I’m especially proud of The Shadow, an organic painting I created on the grass of Regent’s Park during the latest edition of Frieze Sculpture, thanks to Pi Artworks and curator Fatos Üstek, who championed a fully sustainable project. The Shadow was painted with organic pigments that don’t damage the grass, disrupt the park’s wildlife, or leave a carbon footprint in transportation. If you’re interested in this project, I invite you to visit the Dulwich Picture Gallery, where I’ll paint The Shadow live starting mid-February.
What was the process of including waste materials with clay, and how did you bring these works to life?
In these processes, I follow a circular economy policy that allows me to reduce the amount of waste generated, establish dialogues between different works, and generate a more elastic and sustainable practice. The first step of this process is to create a dough with air-dry clay, PVA, acrylic, and waste materials. Once the matter is almost dried, I use an electric food slicer to fragment it mechanically into slices, displayed from left to right, top to bottom. It is a simple and mechanical process that embodies complex political content in its materiality and methodology.
What impact are you hoping this exhibition will have on the visitor?
My practice impacts different tempos depending on the work. Some pieces, like Anonymous or The Shadow, draw attention for being large-scale projects with a more direct reading, while intimate works require more time to approach and absorb the complex process behind their creation. In any case, everyone has their own pace and perception, so all I can do is extend an invitation to visit Trash/Value at Palmer Gallery.
Housed in the historic Palmer Tyre Company building—once responsible for producing the Supermarine Spitfire fighter aircraft used by the RAF in the Second World War—is the Palmer Gallery, a new haven for emerging artists. With striking remnants of the building’s wartime past, such as the old Palmer Tyre sign near the entrance or the pulley system on top of the building, the Gallery blends its rich history with the contemporary.
The Gallery currently showcases Albano Hernández’s solo exhibition, Trash/Value. In an interview with the artist, we find out more about the vision behind his work, more about the Spanish meat production industry and why and how he incorporated everyday trash into his artwork:
Can you tell me a little about meat production in Ávila, Spain and how this industry affected you?
Ávila is part of a region of Spain where everything related to meat, from its production to its final consumption, is part of the local culture. The meat of Ávila is known for its quality, having as its flagship the “Avileña” veal, a breed of cow that is raised with extensive livestock on pastures in mountainous areas. Due to various geographical, political and cultural factors, production is most important to the regional economy.
Due to the intense demand increase and digitalization boom, we see pre-industrial systems coexisting with new industrial processes. This means the co-existence of extensive and sustainable livestock farming as opposed to the intensive production of macro-farms, which is characterized by the use of industrial processes, irresponsible use of natural resources, use of additives and medicines, animal abuse and many more drastic factors based on maximizing production while minimizing costs.
In light of all this, it is also interesting to look at rituals such as “la matanza”, where pigs are slaughtered and cut up, and everything inside of them is used, which originally was a social event that brought people from the community together.
Can you discuss Anonymous, 2024, made from cattle ear tags and steel nail installation? What inspired you to use these materials and the tags? What does this work symbolize?
The installation Anonymous consists of 277 cattle ear tags arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. Mass-produced ear tags from plastic serve as data repositories, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.
Lucas Giles, co-founder of the Gallery, mentioned the whimsy in your work. What prompted you to create Desire, a rotating artwork resembling a rotisserie chicken, and do you see it as a lighthearted way of looking at the meat production industry?
I appreciate art with a touch of humour, and life is always brighter when we smile. The context and aura of the glass dome and its rotation highlight the fundamental role that commodity fetishism plays in my practice and the relevance of the outer skin of the luxury good.
Most of your works in this exhibition incorporate waste materials. Why was that important to do?
I believe that growing up in a historic city has made me more attuned to memory and to everything we leave behind for future generations. With this in mind, my work has always focused on waste and leftovers.
Before joining the Royal College of Art, my paintings focused on the elements used to create the images. During my MA, I evolved my practice, shifting from representing these materials to presenting them directly. I aim to upcycle as many of the materials that come into the studio as possible. My goal is to create a circular economy guided by a zero-waste policy.
In this context, I’m especially proud of The Shadow, an organic painting I created on the grass of Regent’s Park during the latest edition of Frieze Sculpture, thanks to Pi Artworks and curator Fatos Üstek, who championed a fully sustainable project. The Shadow was painted with organic pigments that don’t damage the grass, disrupt the park’s wildlife, or leave a carbon footprint in transportation. If you’re interested in this project, I invite you to visit the Dulwich Picture Gallery, where I’ll paint The Shadow live starting mid-February.
What was the process of including waste materials with clay, and how did you bring these works to life?
In these processes, I follow a circular economy policy that allows me to reduce the amount of waste generated, establish dialogues between different works, and generate a more elastic and sustainable practice. The first step of this process is to create a dough with air-dry clay, PVA, acrylic, and waste materials. Once the matter is almost dried, I use an electric food slicer to fragment it mechanically into slices, displayed from left to right, top to bottom. It is a simple and mechanical process that embodies complex political content in its materiality and methodology.
What impact are you hoping this exhibition will have on the visitor?
My practice impacts different tempos depending on the work. Some pieces, like Anonymous or The Shadow, draw attention for being large-scale projects with a more direct reading, while intimate works require more time to approach and absorb the complex process behind their creation. In any case, everyone has their own pace and perception, so all I can do is extend an invitation to visit Trash/Value at Palmer Gallery.
Housed in the historic Palmer Tyre Company building—once responsible for producing the Supermarine Spitfire fighter aircraft used by the RAF in the Second World War—is the Palmer Gallery, a new haven for emerging artists. With striking remnants of the building’s wartime past, such as the old Palmer Tyre sign near the entrance or the pulley system on top of the building, the Gallery blends its rich history with the contemporary.
The Gallery currently showcases Albano Hernández’s solo exhibition, Trash/Value. In an interview with the artist, we find out more about the vision behind his work, more about the Spanish meat production industry and why and how he incorporated everyday trash into his artwork:
Can you tell me a little about meat production in Ávila, Spain and how this industry affected you?
Ávila is part of a region of Spain where everything related to meat, from its production to its final consumption, is part of the local culture. The meat of Ávila is known for its quality, having as its flagship the “Avileña” veal, a breed of cow that is raised with extensive livestock on pastures in mountainous areas. Due to various geographical, political and cultural factors, production is most important to the regional economy.
Due to the intense demand increase and digitalization boom, we see pre-industrial systems coexisting with new industrial processes. This means the co-existence of extensive and sustainable livestock farming as opposed to the intensive production of macro-farms, which is characterized by the use of industrial processes, irresponsible use of natural resources, use of additives and medicines, animal abuse and many more drastic factors based on maximizing production while minimizing costs.
In light of all this, it is also interesting to look at rituals such as “la matanza”, where pigs are slaughtered and cut up, and everything inside of them is used, which originally was a social event that brought people from the community together.
Can you discuss Anonymous, 2024, made from cattle ear tags and steel nail installation? What inspired you to use these materials and the tags? What does this work symbolize?
The installation Anonymous consists of 277 cattle ear tags arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. Mass-produced ear tags from plastic serve as data repositories, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.
Lucas Giles, co-founder of the Gallery, mentioned the whimsy in your work. What prompted you to create Desire, a rotating artwork resembling a rotisserie chicken, and do you see it as a lighthearted way of looking at the meat production industry?
I appreciate art with a touch of humour, and life is always brighter when we smile. The context and aura of the glass dome and its rotation highlight the fundamental role that commodity fetishism plays in my practice and the relevance of the outer skin of the luxury good.
Most of your works in this exhibition incorporate waste materials. Why was that important to do?
I believe that growing up in a historic city has made me more attuned to memory and to everything we leave behind for future generations. With this in mind, my work has always focused on waste and leftovers.
Before joining the Royal College of Art, my paintings focused on the elements used to create the images. During my MA, I evolved my practice, shifting from representing these materials to presenting them directly. I aim to upcycle as many of the materials that come into the studio as possible. My goal is to create a circular economy guided by a zero-waste policy.
In this context, I’m especially proud of The Shadow, an organic painting I created on the grass of Regent’s Park during the latest edition of Frieze Sculpture, thanks to Pi Artworks and curator Fatos Üstek, who championed a fully sustainable project. The Shadow was painted with organic pigments that don’t damage the grass, disrupt the park’s wildlife, or leave a carbon footprint in transportation. If you’re interested in this project, I invite you to visit the Dulwich Picture Gallery, where I’ll paint The Shadow live starting mid-February.
What was the process of including waste materials with clay, and how did you bring these works to life?
In these processes, I follow a circular economy policy that allows me to reduce the amount of waste generated, establish dialogues between different works, and generate a more elastic and sustainable practice. The first step of this process is to create a dough with air-dry clay, PVA, acrylic, and waste materials. Once the matter is almost dried, I use an electric food slicer to fragment it mechanically into slices, displayed from left to right, top to bottom. It is a simple and mechanical process that embodies complex political content in its materiality and methodology.
What impact are you hoping this exhibition will have on the visitor?
My practice impacts different tempos depending on the work. Some pieces, like Anonymous or The Shadow, draw attention for being large-scale projects with a more direct reading, while intimate works require more time to approach and absorb the complex process behind their creation. In any case, everyone has their own pace and perception, so all I can do is extend an invitation to visit Trash/Value at Palmer Gallery.
Housed in the historic Palmer Tyre Company building—once responsible for producing the Supermarine Spitfire fighter aircraft used by the RAF in the Second World War—is the Palmer Gallery, a new haven for emerging artists. With striking remnants of the building’s wartime past, such as the old Palmer Tyre sign near the entrance or the pulley system on top of the building, the Gallery blends its rich history with the contemporary.
The Gallery currently showcases Albano Hernández’s solo exhibition, Trash/Value. In an interview with the artist, we find out more about the vision behind his work, more about the Spanish meat production industry and why and how he incorporated everyday trash into his artwork:
Can you tell me a little about meat production in Ávila, Spain and how this industry affected you?
Ávila is part of a region of Spain where everything related to meat, from its production to its final consumption, is part of the local culture. The meat of Ávila is known for its quality, having as its flagship the “Avileña” veal, a breed of cow that is raised with extensive livestock on pastures in mountainous areas. Due to various geographical, political and cultural factors, production is most important to the regional economy.
Due to the intense demand increase and digitalization boom, we see pre-industrial systems coexisting with new industrial processes. This means the co-existence of extensive and sustainable livestock farming as opposed to the intensive production of macro-farms, which is characterized by the use of industrial processes, irresponsible use of natural resources, use of additives and medicines, animal abuse and many more drastic factors based on maximizing production while minimizing costs.
In light of all this, it is also interesting to look at rituals such as “la matanza”, where pigs are slaughtered and cut up, and everything inside of them is used, which originally was a social event that brought people from the community together.
Can you discuss Anonymous, 2024, made from cattle ear tags and steel nail installation? What inspired you to use these materials and the tags? What does this work symbolize?
The installation Anonymous consists of 277 cattle ear tags arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. Mass-produced ear tags from plastic serve as data repositories, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.
Lucas Giles, co-founder of the Gallery, mentioned the whimsy in your work. What prompted you to create Desire, a rotating artwork resembling a rotisserie chicken, and do you see it as a lighthearted way of looking at the meat production industry?
I appreciate art with a touch of humour, and life is always brighter when we smile. The context and aura of the glass dome and its rotation highlight the fundamental role that commodity fetishism plays in my practice and the relevance of the outer skin of the luxury good.
Most of your works in this exhibition incorporate waste materials. Why was that important to do?
I believe that growing up in a historic city has made me more attuned to memory and to everything we leave behind for future generations. With this in mind, my work has always focused on waste and leftovers.
Before joining the Royal College of Art, my paintings focused on the elements used to create the images. During my MA, I evolved my practice, shifting from representing these materials to presenting them directly. I aim to upcycle as many of the materials that come into the studio as possible. My goal is to create a circular economy guided by a zero-waste policy.
In this context, I’m especially proud of The Shadow, an organic painting I created on the grass of Regent’s Park during the latest edition of Frieze Sculpture, thanks to Pi Artworks and curator Fatos Üstek, who championed a fully sustainable project. The Shadow was painted with organic pigments that don’t damage the grass, disrupt the park’s wildlife, or leave a carbon footprint in transportation. If you’re interested in this project, I invite you to visit the Dulwich Picture Gallery, where I’ll paint The Shadow live starting mid-February.
What was the process of including waste materials with clay, and how did you bring these works to life?
In these processes, I follow a circular economy policy that allows me to reduce the amount of waste generated, establish dialogues between different works, and generate a more elastic and sustainable practice. The first step of this process is to create a dough with air-dry clay, PVA, acrylic, and waste materials. Once the matter is almost dried, I use an electric food slicer to fragment it mechanically into slices, displayed from left to right, top to bottom. It is a simple and mechanical process that embodies complex political content in its materiality and methodology.
What impact are you hoping this exhibition will have on the visitor?
My practice impacts different tempos depending on the work. Some pieces, like Anonymous or The Shadow, draw attention for being large-scale projects with a more direct reading, while intimate works require more time to approach and absorb the complex process behind their creation. In any case, everyone has their own pace and perception, so all I can do is extend an invitation to visit Trash/Value at Palmer Gallery.
Housed in the historic Palmer Tyre Company building—once responsible for producing the Supermarine Spitfire fighter aircraft used by the RAF in the Second World War—is the Palmer Gallery, a new haven for emerging artists. With striking remnants of the building’s wartime past, such as the old Palmer Tyre sign near the entrance or the pulley system on top of the building, the Gallery blends its rich history with the contemporary.
The Gallery currently showcases Albano Hernández’s solo exhibition, Trash/Value. In an interview with the artist, we find out more about the vision behind his work, more about the Spanish meat production industry and why and how he incorporated everyday trash into his artwork:
Can you tell me a little about meat production in Ávila, Spain and how this industry affected you?
Ávila is part of a region of Spain where everything related to meat, from its production to its final consumption, is part of the local culture. The meat of Ávila is known for its quality, having as its flagship the “Avileña” veal, a breed of cow that is raised with extensive livestock on pastures in mountainous areas. Due to various geographical, political and cultural factors, production is most important to the regional economy.
Due to the intense demand increase and digitalization boom, we see pre-industrial systems coexisting with new industrial processes. This means the co-existence of extensive and sustainable livestock farming as opposed to the intensive production of macro-farms, which is characterized by the use of industrial processes, irresponsible use of natural resources, use of additives and medicines, animal abuse and many more drastic factors based on maximizing production while minimizing costs.
In light of all this, it is also interesting to look at rituals such as “la matanza”, where pigs are slaughtered and cut up, and everything inside of them is used, which originally was a social event that brought people from the community together.
Can you discuss Anonymous, 2024, made from cattle ear tags and steel nail installation? What inspired you to use these materials and the tags? What does this work symbolize?
The installation Anonymous consists of 277 cattle ear tags arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. Mass-produced ear tags from plastic serve as data repositories, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.
Lucas Giles, co-founder of the Gallery, mentioned the whimsy in your work. What prompted you to create Desire, a rotating artwork resembling a rotisserie chicken, and do you see it as a lighthearted way of looking at the meat production industry?
I appreciate art with a touch of humour, and life is always brighter when we smile. The context and aura of the glass dome and its rotation highlight the fundamental role that commodity fetishism plays in my practice and the relevance of the outer skin of the luxury good.
Most of your works in this exhibition incorporate waste materials. Why was that important to do?
I believe that growing up in a historic city has made me more attuned to memory and to everything we leave behind for future generations. With this in mind, my work has always focused on waste and leftovers.
Before joining the Royal College of Art, my paintings focused on the elements used to create the images. During my MA, I evolved my practice, shifting from representing these materials to presenting them directly. I aim to upcycle as many of the materials that come into the studio as possible. My goal is to create a circular economy guided by a zero-waste policy.
In this context, I’m especially proud of The Shadow, an organic painting I created on the grass of Regent’s Park during the latest edition of Frieze Sculpture, thanks to Pi Artworks and curator Fatos Üstek, who championed a fully sustainable project. The Shadow was painted with organic pigments that don’t damage the grass, disrupt the park’s wildlife, or leave a carbon footprint in transportation. If you’re interested in this project, I invite you to visit the Dulwich Picture Gallery, where I’ll paint The Shadow live starting mid-February.
What was the process of including waste materials with clay, and how did you bring these works to life?
In these processes, I follow a circular economy policy that allows me to reduce the amount of waste generated, establish dialogues between different works, and generate a more elastic and sustainable practice. The first step of this process is to create a dough with air-dry clay, PVA, acrylic, and waste materials. Once the matter is almost dried, I use an electric food slicer to fragment it mechanically into slices, displayed from left to right, top to bottom. It is a simple and mechanical process that embodies complex political content in its materiality and methodology.
What impact are you hoping this exhibition will have on the visitor?
My practice impacts different tempos depending on the work. Some pieces, like Anonymous or The Shadow, draw attention for being large-scale projects with a more direct reading, while intimate works require more time to approach and absorb the complex process behind their creation. In any case, everyone has their own pace and perception, so all I can do is extend an invitation to visit Trash/Value at Palmer Gallery.
Housed in the historic Palmer Tyre Company building—once responsible for producing the Supermarine Spitfire fighter aircraft used by the RAF in the Second World War—is the Palmer Gallery, a new haven for emerging artists. With striking remnants of the building’s wartime past, such as the old Palmer Tyre sign near the entrance or the pulley system on top of the building, the Gallery blends its rich history with the contemporary.
The Gallery currently showcases Albano Hernández’s solo exhibition, Trash/Value. In an interview with the artist, we find out more about the vision behind his work, more about the Spanish meat production industry and why and how he incorporated everyday trash into his artwork:
Can you tell me a little about meat production in Ávila, Spain and how this industry affected you?
Ávila is part of a region of Spain where everything related to meat, from its production to its final consumption, is part of the local culture. The meat of Ávila is known for its quality, having as its flagship the “Avileña” veal, a breed of cow that is raised with extensive livestock on pastures in mountainous areas. Due to various geographical, political and cultural factors, production is most important to the regional economy.
Due to the intense demand increase and digitalization boom, we see pre-industrial systems coexisting with new industrial processes. This means the co-existence of extensive and sustainable livestock farming as opposed to the intensive production of macro-farms, which is characterized by the use of industrial processes, irresponsible use of natural resources, use of additives and medicines, animal abuse and many more drastic factors based on maximizing production while minimizing costs.
In light of all this, it is also interesting to look at rituals such as “la matanza”, where pigs are slaughtered and cut up, and everything inside of them is used, which originally was a social event that brought people from the community together.
Can you discuss Anonymous, 2024, made from cattle ear tags and steel nail installation? What inspired you to use these materials and the tags? What does this work symbolize?
The installation Anonymous consists of 277 cattle ear tags arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. Mass-produced ear tags from plastic serve as data repositories, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.
Lucas Giles, co-founder of the Gallery, mentioned the whimsy in your work. What prompted you to create Desire, a rotating artwork resembling a rotisserie chicken, and do you see it as a lighthearted way of looking at the meat production industry?
I appreciate art with a touch of humour, and life is always brighter when we smile. The context and aura of the glass dome and its rotation highlight the fundamental role that commodity fetishism plays in my practice and the relevance of the outer skin of the luxury good.
Most of your works in this exhibition incorporate waste materials. Why was that important to do?
I believe that growing up in a historic city has made me more attuned to memory and to everything we leave behind for future generations. With this in mind, my work has always focused on waste and leftovers.
Before joining the Royal College of Art, my paintings focused on the elements used to create the images. During my MA, I evolved my practice, shifting from representing these materials to presenting them directly. I aim to upcycle as many of the materials that come into the studio as possible. My goal is to create a circular economy guided by a zero-waste policy.
In this context, I’m especially proud of The Shadow, an organic painting I created on the grass of Regent’s Park during the latest edition of Frieze Sculpture, thanks to Pi Artworks and curator Fatos Üstek, who championed a fully sustainable project. The Shadow was painted with organic pigments that don’t damage the grass, disrupt the park’s wildlife, or leave a carbon footprint in transportation. If you’re interested in this project, I invite you to visit the Dulwich Picture Gallery, where I’ll paint The Shadow live starting mid-February.
What was the process of including waste materials with clay, and how did you bring these works to life?
In these processes, I follow a circular economy policy that allows me to reduce the amount of waste generated, establish dialogues between different works, and generate a more elastic and sustainable practice. The first step of this process is to create a dough with air-dry clay, PVA, acrylic, and waste materials. Once the matter is almost dried, I use an electric food slicer to fragment it mechanically into slices, displayed from left to right, top to bottom. It is a simple and mechanical process that embodies complex political content in its materiality and methodology.
What impact are you hoping this exhibition will have on the visitor?
My practice impacts different tempos depending on the work. Some pieces, like Anonymous or The Shadow, draw attention for being large-scale projects with a more direct reading, while intimate works require more time to approach and absorb the complex process behind their creation. In any case, everyone has their own pace and perception, so all I can do is extend an invitation to visit Trash/Value at Palmer Gallery.
Housed in the historic Palmer Tyre Company building—once responsible for producing the Supermarine Spitfire fighter aircraft used by the RAF in the Second World War—is the Palmer Gallery, a new haven for emerging artists. With striking remnants of the building’s wartime past, such as the old Palmer Tyre sign near the entrance or the pulley system on top of the building, the Gallery blends its rich history with the contemporary.
The Gallery currently showcases Albano Hernández’s solo exhibition, Trash/Value. In an interview with the artist, we find out more about the vision behind his work, more about the Spanish meat production industry and why and how he incorporated everyday trash into his artwork:
Can you tell me a little about meat production in Ávila, Spain and how this industry affected you?
Ávila is part of a region of Spain where everything related to meat, from its production to its final consumption, is part of the local culture. The meat of Ávila is known for its quality, having as its flagship the “Avileña” veal, a breed of cow that is raised with extensive livestock on pastures in mountainous areas. Due to various geographical, political and cultural factors, production is most important to the regional economy.
Due to the intense demand increase and digitalization boom, we see pre-industrial systems coexisting with new industrial processes. This means the co-existence of extensive and sustainable livestock farming as opposed to the intensive production of macro-farms, which is characterized by the use of industrial processes, irresponsible use of natural resources, use of additives and medicines, animal abuse and many more drastic factors based on maximizing production while minimizing costs.
In light of all this, it is also interesting to look at rituals such as “la matanza”, where pigs are slaughtered and cut up, and everything inside of them is used, which originally was a social event that brought people from the community together.
Can you discuss Anonymous, 2024, made from cattle ear tags and steel nail installation? What inspired you to use these materials and the tags? What does this work symbolize?
The installation Anonymous consists of 277 cattle ear tags arranged to form a graph depicting the global rise in meat production over the past seventy years. Mass-produced ear tags from plastic serve as data repositories, tracking each animal’s life until it is sent to the slaughterhouse. These pieces are remains of a production line, a memory, an anonymous cemetery.
Lucas Giles, co-founder of the Gallery, mentioned the whimsy in your work. What prompted you to create Desire, a rotating artwork resembling a rotisserie chicken, and do you see it as a lighthearted way of looking at the meat production industry?
I appreciate art with a touch of humour, and life is always brighter when we smile. The context and aura of the glass dome and its rotation highlight the fundamental role that commodity fetishism plays in my practice and the relevance of the outer skin of the luxury good.
Most of your works in this exhibition incorporate waste materials. Why was that important to do?
I believe that growing up in a historic city has made me more attuned to memory and to everything we leave behind for future generations. With this in mind, my work has always focused on waste and leftovers.
Before joining the Royal College of Art, my paintings focused on the elements used to create the images. During my MA, I evolved my practice, shifting from representing these materials to presenting them directly. I aim to upcycle as many of the materials that come into the studio as possible. My goal is to create a circular economy guided by a zero-waste policy.
In this context, I’m especially proud of The Shadow, an organic painting I created on the grass of Regent’s Park during the latest edition of Frieze Sculpture, thanks to Pi Artworks and curator Fatos Üstek, who championed a fully sustainable project. The Shadow was painted with organic pigments that don’t damage the grass, disrupt the park’s wildlife, or leave a carbon footprint in transportation. If you’re interested in this project, I invite you to visit the Dulwich Picture Gallery, where I’ll paint The Shadow live starting mid-February.
What was the process of including waste materials with clay, and how did you bring these works to life?
In these processes, I follow a circular economy policy that allows me to reduce the amount of waste generated, establish dialogues between different works, and generate a more elastic and sustainable practice. The first step of this process is to create a dough with air-dry clay, PVA, acrylic, and waste materials. Once the matter is almost dried, I use an electric food slicer to fragment it mechanically into slices, displayed from left to right, top to bottom. It is a simple and mechanical process that embodies complex political content in its materiality and methodology.
What impact are you hoping this exhibition will have on the visitor?
My practice impacts different tempos depending on the work. Some pieces, like Anonymous or The Shadow, draw attention for being large-scale projects with a more direct reading, while intimate works require more time to approach and absorb the complex process behind their creation. In any case, everyone has their own pace and perception, so all I can do is extend an invitation to visit Trash/Value at Palmer Gallery.
