GALERIA REUS




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Galería Reus is a contemporary art gallery based in Mallorca whose trajectory dates back to 2003. Over the years, the project has evolved through different forms of collaboration and programming, consolidating itself as a space dedicated to the research, production, and dissemination of contemporary art.

The gallery works with emerging and mid-career artists, supporting the development of their practices while creating a context for dialogue, experimentation, and reflection around the diverse forms of contemporary artistic expression. Its program is characterized by a diversity of languages and approaches, as well as an interest in establishing connections between the local artistic scene and the international context.

From Mallorca, Galería Reus aims to actively contribute to the contemporary cultural ecosystem by promoting projects that encourage exchange, artistic research, and the development of new perspectives.



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N.I.T: NUCLI D’INTENSITAT TRANSITÒRIA -  JOAN CANYELLES, JORDI CLOTET SALÓ, DANIEL DOMÍNGUEZ, MARGA ESTELRICH, XIM LLOMPART, MARTIN PAASKESEN, ALICIA SANTAMARIA, ALBA SUAU, ERIKA TROTZIG, JOACHIM LAMBRECHTS, DAVID MARTIN AND JOAN VIDAL

Curated by Belén Martínez Gamero





Dates
19/09/26 - 01/12/26

Nit de l’Art 2026



Text Everything that exists passes through the night. We enter it with no alternative, unable even to imagine avoiding it. Night passes through everything, and everything changes shape. It allows us to return to what is absent and intensifies what is present. As if the nocturnal realm were a place where anything could happen, where any idea could take shape and then, at the first glimmer of sunlight, vanish once again as though nothing had occurred.

“N.I.T: Nucli d’Intensitat Transitòria” (Nucleus of Transitory Intensity) is a group exhibition that pays tribute to the night as a place of encounter on the occasion of the thirtieth edition of Nit de l’Art. As though it were an acronym, the word NIT—night in Catalan—refers not only to the nocturnal interval, but also to the unfolding of ephemeral experiences that opens up before us when we come together. As if anything could happen.

Ceramics, painting, graphic work, installation and video are among the media that comprise the exhibition. It brings together works by Joan Canyelles, Jordi Clotet Saló, Daniel Domínguez, Marga Estelrich, Xim Llompart, Martin Paaskesen, Alicia Santamaria, Alba Suau, Erika Trotzig, Joachim Lambrechts, David Martin and Joan Vidal. Together, their works create a symbiosis between the natural and the artificial, the earthly and the divine. Some subtly lead us towards nocturnal realities, natural processes or states of wakefulness in the early hours of the morning. Others, however, reveal precisely who inhabits the night, from those who cannot sleep to those who do not even try. Yet they all have something in common: they meet in the night.

Multiple distortions emerge in the darkness. What we think we recognise changes shape, and it is precisely at that moment that creation begins. The monochrome canvases of Martin Paaskesen (Copenhagen, 1987), rendered in yellow and black, acquire a dimensional quality verging on bas-relief through the addition of scraps, textiles and patches. It is through imperfection that the work preserves its authenticity, becoming an exercise in unlearning and creative liberation through perception. Similarly, found materials left over from other, unrelated processes form the basis of Marga Estelrich’s (Manacor, 2002) creations. Removed from their original contexts, these objects acquire new value and meaning, turning any setting into a space of creative possibility. At the same time, the accumulation of these materials contrasts with the impossibility of obtaining a place in which to keep them. Estelrich thus reflects the difficulties faced by her generation in finding a home or, at the very least, somewhere to belong.

This place in which memory can be created is directly connected to rest and refuge. The work of Joan Vidal (Palma, 2002) depicts a bouquet of cascalls, or opium poppies. Once dried, these plants were traditionally placed beneath the pillow to aid sleep. Like a utopian architecture, the sculptural structure represents a possible home, a house in which to rest, yet one in which there is no room for us adults, despite our profound need for refuge.

Community is, in fact, the best way to find such refuge. For generations, communities gathering at night have passed down experiences, traditions and knowledge. Oral language, with its many variations, has always been the means through which this transmission takes place. In the works of Daniel Domínguez Romero (La Línea de la Concepción, 2000), the vicissitudes of speech are transformed into images, representing everything the voice itself cannot convey. These symbols materialise gestures, tones and singularities, embodying the most distinctive features of individual and collective language. Joan Canyelles (Pòrtol, 1987) revisits these distinguishing features, associating them with cartographic symbols and irregular typefaces. In doing so, he creates a highly recognisable visual identity, like words that cannot quite be read in the darkness and whose meaning we nevertheless recognise.

The night can feel infinite to those who embrace insomnia. Thoughts trace journeys that would be impossible amid the stimuli of daytime. The works of Alicia Santamaria (Palma, 1994) speak of the desire that finds us in the early hours of the morning. Her ceramics reveal the direct consequences of magnified passions, of that which keeps us awake, of the unrelenting sleeplessness caused by our weaknesses. Thoughts and reflections are precisely what inspire the work of Jordi Clotet (El Masnou, 1994). In his sculptures, Clotet deconstructs the die to explore chance, the subjectivity of luck and the different ways in which each of us assigns value to the random events of life.

Encounters in the night can often occur through ideas. The works of Xim Llompart (Palma, 1983) and David Martin (Palma, 1978) converge in both purpose and concept. Llompart presents the rigid structure of a pair of trousers, a symbolic element of functionality and corporatism: an apparently stable form whose balance depends on something as precarious as a discarded piece of plaster. The representation is clear: the rigid structure, an allegory of production, is supported solely by a supplementary yet crucial element. In David Martin’s work, this idea is represented explicitly. In the video, a child inserts a coin into a children’s mechanical ride and climbs onto it. The seemingly innocent image has one particular feature: the machine is a worm bearing Donald Trump’s face and, without the coin, it cannot operate. Like the piece of plaster, money becomes the element supporting the structure that empowers contemporary leaders and, ultimately, legitimises masculinity and production as a hegemonic system.

In a male-dominated society that understands optimisation as progress, the structures of Erika Trotzig (Sweden, 1971) reclaim error as a form of protest. The work presented functions as a barricade, a defensive element against the potential dangers of the night, which, for a woman’s body, can become a place of hostile encounters. The presence of torn tights refers directly to femininity and, at the same time, to violence. Trotzig’s work thus seeks a path towards freedom in the night, something with which to protect oneself.

Nocturnal wanderings give rise to encounters with people, objects and beings that go unnoticed during the day. The painting by Joachim Lambrechts (Belgium, 1986) presents a large owl in the night, seemingly friendly yet profoundly unsettling. The animal’s eyes, fixed upon the viewer, draw us into a fleeting moment of encounter with one of the night’s inhabitants. During these wanderings, our surroundings can take on new dimensions, revealing what so often goes unnoticed. The work of Alba Suau (Pollença, 1997) emerges from these aimless journeys, during which the artist gathers all manner of tones, forms and fragments of her surroundings in her memory, later transferring them onto the canvas upon returning to the studio. The colours evoke dawn, that moment when a new day begins and, at last, the night and its ephemeral intensity fade away.

Belén Martínez Gamero