What do you want to see?
Skene Staff
From the UK to Korea to the past — Helen Garcia-Alton, Tina Torbey, and Nia Banks share the theatre they wish they could see anywhere in the world.
From the UK to Korea to the past — Helen Garcia-Alton, Tina Torbey, and Nia Banks share the theatre they wish they could see anywhere in the world.
Public domain plays for community theatres: proven box office hits, zero royalties. Reliable entertainers that fill seats.
Brandon PT Davis is a scenic designer whose research-driven practice builds spaces that dissolve into story and earn their invisibility.
Actriz y autora mexicana Kelly Key habla sobre maternidad, teatro autodidacta y su cuento Cerillo en este episodio de OFFSTAGE en Español.
Helen Garcia-Alton, Tina Torbey, and Nia Banks share what’s on stage right now that is transformative, interesting, or just plain fun.
An artist’s journey through the realms of art is as much about personal growth and discovery as it is about the art. In the case of Joan Quintas, his trajectory was informed by early life experiences where art was not only a means of expression but part of a family tradition. Growing up in a family of artists, he had considered architecture from an early age, but he soon found himself closer to the world of scenography. His creativity then grew, and so did his interest in a profession that would ultimately join technique with personal expression.
Over the years, his creations have evolved into complex, emotionally charged pieces-into a uniquely personal vision of the world. He is very spontaneous in his work, mostly letting his hand take its path on the page and embracing every mistake that becomes a part of creating. By using his art to tell deep, emotional stories, he says not everyone has to understand it or like it, either. And yet, that is how his openness with his work came to be synonymous with great success.
In this edition of PROFILES, we trace the creative journey of Joan Quintas, the challenges he has faced, and his reflections on the ever-changing nature of the art world for an insight into the mind of an artist who never stops pushing the limits.
What sparked my interest as an artist comes from my family—my mother and my aunt are artists, as was my grandmother, and their influence shaped me from an early age. Growing up in that artistic environment in my home in Buenos Aires had a profound impact on me.
Initially, my plan was to study architecture, as that was more common on my father’s side of the family, where a more technical career was the expectation. I tried pursuing it at the University of Buenos Aires, but I really didn’t enjoy it—I felt like it completely stifled my creative freedom.
That was also the same year we knew we were going to move to Spain, so my interest in architecture dwindled, especially since none of my coursework would be transferable. Once we settled in Spain, I started considering other possibilities, and that’s when I discovered theatrical scenography. After doing some research, I realized that it allowed me much more creative freedom without having to delve too deeply into technical aspects. It gave me, as one of my professors at RESAD (Real Escuela Superior de Arte Dramático) in Madrid used to say, the ability to poeticize a space. So I took the entrance exams, was accepted into the program, and from that moment on, a whole new artistic world opened up for me through theatre.
It was during my studies that I had something like an epiphany—one summer night in 2006, I suddenly woke up drenched in sweat after a strange dream. I told myself, this is how I need to draw. Right then and there, I grabbed a pen and started sketching. What came out spontaneously was a sort of minotaur—perhaps a reflection of myself, trying to escape a labyrinth? I still ask myself that question. But what I do know is that from that moment on, I haven’t stopped drawing and creating daily. If you compare that very first sketch to the one I made today, you can clearly see the evolution—thanks to both practice and unwavering passion. My early lines were much rougher, but over time, I learned to create more intricate worlds with a stronger, more deliberate line, conscious of shapes and shadows to achieve the desired effect—most often using whatever tools I could find to work with India ink as my primary medium.
After finishing my degree, I briefly worked in the theatre world but ultimately focused more on my personal career as an artist. However, I still actively collaborate today, both as a scenographer and occasionally making appearances in other roles, with the Czech theatre company Masakr Elsinor.
It’s really difficult to choose a favorite piece among all the works I’ve created over the years because I have a special connection to each one in its own way. However, if I had to highlight a few, they would undoubtedly be my larger-format pieces—the ones that take time to create and complete. Many of them are quite large, reaching up to 100×70 cm, always on paper, though I have worked occasionally on canvas.
These larger works bring me the greatest satisfaction when finished because every corner of them tells a different story. In a way, they become a conglomeration of the smaller drawings I constantly create in my sketchbooks—the ones I carry with me everywhere. When brought together on a large sheet of paper, they form a world of their own.
I have my own interpretation of my work, which often features densely packed characters and structures, with tiny figures interacting within them. To me, the larger elements in the composition represent a vast universe surrounding us, almost like dark matter in space. The tiny figures—constantly in motion, trying to influence their environment—represent us as human beings, struggling to manipulate and control this vast, unknowable universe.
Of course, this is just my way of seeing my work. Personally, I prefer to leave it open to interpretation, allowing each viewer to find their own meaning through their unique perspective.
I don’t really have a formal artistic process. I simply feel the urge to draw, face the blank page, and let my hand move freely across it—without fear of mistakes. In fact, I embrace those so-called mistakes, allowing my mind to interpret them in unexpected ways. Often, they evolve into something interesting within the drawing, helping to tell a different story or enhance another.
Most of the time, I begin with one of my larger-than-life characters, usually starting with the face—especially the eyes. That’s almost always the first element to take shape on the page. In that sense, my inspiration comes spontaneously as I create. However, I also work on commissions, where collectors give me a specific idea or concept, and I translate it into my own visual language, letting my creativity flow within my distinctive style.
It’s often said that a picture is worth a thousand words, but for me, it’s the other way around—a single word can spark a thousand images. A perfect example of this is my dreams, which have played a major role in shaping my artistic style. I have a recurring dream about a witch being burned at the stake, condemned by judgment. That image has stayed with me so strongly that I’ve tried to turn it into a story and illustrate it over time.
My greatest challenge as an artist has been—and always will be—staying consistent in a constantly changing world, especially when it comes to technology. Keeping up with everything is essential to reaching the right audience, yet the oversaturation of social media can feel overwhelming. Still, I recognize that today, these platforms are the best way to connect with potential collectors, and ironically, social media is where I make most of my art sales.
A perfect example of this is something you’ll remember well—one of my large-scale works that I posted on Facebook. You saw it and immediately commented with the famous Futurama meme of Fry saying, “Shut up and take my money.” That moment was both hilarious and surreal because that’s exactly how you ended up acquiring that piece, which I know is now hanging in your home.
Another major challenge for me is putting myself out there publicly. The idea of being the center of attention has never interested me, and yet, in the art world, gaining a certain level of recognition often requires overcoming that resistance. In my case, I don’t want to be famous—I simply want my art to be recognized and to reach people. That’s all that matters to me. Everything else is secondary.
There have been countless artists and individuals who have deeply influenced my artistic journey. First and foremost, I must highlight my mother and other family members who are also artists. Their presence was essential in sparking my interest in this field.
Beyond personal influences, art history has played a major role in shaping my vision. One of my greatest inspirations is Hieronymus Bosch, particularly The Garden of Earthly Delights—I believe my fascination with tiny, intricate beings comes largely from his work. Another major influence is Piranesi, whose etchings of ruins have deeply inspired my own creations.
In the realm of printmaking, I admire the masterful engravings of Dürer and Goya, especially his Los Caprichos series.
From a more figurative perspective, Picasso has always captured my attention, while on the surrealist side, I hold Remedios Varo and Leonora Carrington in the highest regard—their dreamlike, mystical imagery has been a huge source of inspiration.
When it comes to light and shadow, the Renaissance masters like Caravaggio and Da Vinci have been instrumental in my understanding of contrast. For color, I often turn to the works of William Blake, whose deeply expressive use of tone and poetic, almost dark imagery resonate with me profoundly.
Ultimately, my inspirations span across a variety of styles and eras, and I absorb them unconsciously as I create. At the same time, I believe that everything around us can be inspiring, if we take the time to observe it closely—and that, more than anything, has shaped the way I approach my art.
If I could collaborate with any artist, living or dead, I think it would undoubtedly be Basquiat. I’ve always loved seeing him work, with the spontaneity and speed at which he created his great works. In fact, today I’m very open to all possibilities of creating something collaboratively, and luckily, I’ve been able to achieve this with many fellow artists over the past few years, combining our styles to unite them in a shared artistic idea. This, of course, always emerges through the connections you make and the people you meet along the way. For me personally, it’s something that truly fills my soul as an artist.
My advice for anyone who wants to become an artist or is just starting out is to be consistent, to practice any type of art that interests them if it’s their passion, and to do it daily until practice makes perfect and habit makes the monk. Let art become something habitual and daily for them, to the point where they can’t go a single day without creating something artistic. In my particular case, if I didn’t have art as an escape valve from this chaotic world we live in, I don’t know how I could get all the thoughts out of my mind that I sometimes put onto paper. Simply find your passion and do it without thinking twice or fearing mistakes or failure. Do it primarily for yourself, because it enriches your soul, and let everything else be completely secondary.
I want my work to connect with people on an emotional and sensory level, to impact them with just one glance. Also, from a personal and aesthetic perspective, it’s impossible to satisfy everyone’s taste, and there are people who simply don’t understand or don’t like my art, and I definitely respect that. Many times, people have seen my work and given me positive or negative feedback, and I just accept those critiques, as long as they are constructive, and use them to try to improve.
Then there are those who, upon seeing a particular piece, feel an emotion—sometimes positive, sometimes negative—but in either case, I’ve sparked something in their mind, something that has stirred an emotion. Sometimes, they simply view it from an aesthetic perspective and like it without any further expectations. In that sense, I could say that, based on that reaction, my task as an artist in this world has been fulfilled.
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