Exhibition from October 9 to November 1, 2025
“I rebel—therefore we are,” as Camus cried out in The Rebel.
Smooth appearances, deceptive sweetness: Bianca Argimón’s work unfolds at that tipping point where beauty wavers and, without raising its voice, lays bare the madness of our times.
She deploys a visual language as free as it is precise—drawing, painting, sculpture, installation—to orchestrate a miniature theatre where the grotesque constantly flirts with grace.
The artist explores a blurred sense of time, somewhere between an ancient fresco and tempera painting. There is something timeless in her little scenes, a biting sweetness reminiscent of Bosch or Brueghel. For over a decade, she has wielded sharp irony to dissect our contemporary dramas, weaving them into disenchanted compositions that are both humorous and unsettling.
In this universe, symbols collide: cold machines with fixed smiles, absurd anthropomorphic figures, offbeat animals observing the world with almost philosophical indifference, a blindfolded Pinocchio guided only by the weight of his nose… Humor is everywhere, yet it never masks the underlying unease. On the contrary—it quietly reveals it.
Bianca Argimón’s work could be mistaken for that of a whistleblower. But it is much more than that: a bittersweet mirror held up to our grotesque reality. She draws us into a world where the fool walks alongside the real, sharply revealing that uncertain boundary between lucidity and collective madness.
This is what she offers us: a silent insolence, an invitation to quiet rebellion, a necessary anger in the face of our guilty complacency.
So what are we to do?
Laugh, still, one last time, before everything turns to lies and illusion.
Or question ourselves? That, now, is painful.
Because soon, like the tiny characters in her work, we will wander—trapped in our banal fears, paralyzed.
Just look at the figures who dominate our time to understand what our silence permits. Their presence is the stark proof of our collective surrender.
Let us rebel—lest we hum together the chorus of our world’s collapse.
— Antoine Py & Camille Frasca
