Follow-Up: Karina Fernandez

Karina Fernandez develops installation-based, process-oriented works using biological materials and discarded matter to address environmental issues. Her practice explores the sensory clash between organic and synthetic elements through assemblage and time-based operations, that she describes as “neo-conglomerates” — a term rooted in classical geology and oriented toward contemporary sedimentation processes in which human-produced materials become part of the environment. Karina Fernandez previously earned degrees in Fine Arts and Visual Arts in Buenos Aires, and completed her diploma in the department of Digital Arts (Ruth Schnell) at the University of Applied Arts in Vienna in 2023.

Dear Karina, tell us what did you work on during your time at AIL? How is the project progressing now?

During the residency, I developed different bioplastic mixtures and explored their colour, transparency, texture and relationship with light. I moved from small, flat samples to large-scale sheets and three-dimensional forms.

From the beginning, I was fascinated by the material’s viscous consistency and transparency, and by their effect on colour. I am now developing works that explore its pictorial possibilities through Josef Albers’s colour studies ("Homage to the Square") and the scale, rhythm and visual density of Jackson Pollock’s paintings. Both worked mainly with opaque pigments; I am investigating what new possibilities emerge when these approaches are explored through transparency and light.

Besides experiments with animal- and plant-based recipes, I also expanded the research through a workshop with around fifteen participants, each producing approximately five sheets with individual colour and texture compositions. I produced two sheets measuring 400 x 60 cm, displayed three-dimensionally on metal supports and created a larger version of Bon(e)fire, measuring 1.30 metres in diameter. Furthermore I invited a fellow artist to develop an activation of my work, expanding the project visually and conceptually through dialogue with another artistic practice.

What changed over the course of the residency? Which processes were influenced or developed?

Before the residency, I tended to produce smooth, stable and controlled surfaces. I came to understand that folds, contractions, bubbles, variations in transparency and other unpredictable changes are essential qualities of the material. These become more pronounced at a larger scale: my body cannot exert the same control over a four-metre sheet as over a 30 × 30 centimetre sample. Visitors’ reactions also encouraged me to think more spatially. The works were perceived as skins, membranes, landscapes and structures which are occupying space.

Some ideas could not be fully realised. Long drying times and the need for suitable pouring surfaces limited certain experiments, particularly The Great Pouring, which involved making large-scale pours directly onto the exhibition floor. Nevertheless the generous space at AIL radically expanded the material’s possibilities and transformed how I perceived and worked with it. This scale would not have been possible in my studio.

How does painting continue to inform your practice? How does working with malleable, translucent materials differ from working on canvas?

Painting remains present through composition of visual elements like colour, form, layering and the relationships between transparency, density and light.

In the bioplastic works, colour is integrated into the material and light passes through it; together, they replace the traditional pictorial support. The piece consequently acquires a sculptural character and becomes an autonomous body that captures, filters and transforms light.

The forms arise from both my decisions and the material’s behaviour during drying. Folds, contractions and deformations actively shape the composition. Front and back become equally significant, and as the surfaces leave the wall and occupy space, the pictorial process becomes physical and spatial.

Your work addresses the clash between organic and synthetic elements. What ethical questions and contradictions arise from the materials you use?

My work questions categories such as “natural”, “biological”, “synthetic” and “sustainable”. Gelatine-based bioplastics derive from organic matter and are biodegradable, but they also involve an animal by-product and raise questions about livestock production, habitat and biodiversity loss, consumption, waste and global warming. Conversely, a laboratory-synthesised pigment may offer greater stability, traceability and a lower environmental impact than some materials considered natural, as opposed to synthesised.

I therefore consider the entire life cycle of each material: the origin of its raw materials, production processes, additives, energy consumption, durability and later transformation. I am also interested in the tension between the expected permanence of an artwork and the changing, sensitive and biodegradable character of these materials.

These contradictions form part of the work. The material turns its own composition, origin and transformation into aesthetic and ethical questions.

Were there any encounters or moments of realisation that inspired you during the residency?

One important moment occurred when I placed the large sheets over prism-shaped iron structures to accelerate the drying process. Originally intended as practical supports, these structures eventually became part of the work, transforming a flat sheet into a sculptural form with multiple viewing angles. This experience strongly reaffirmed an established aspect of my practice: allowing unforeseen events and practical decisions to enter into dialogue with the work, become part of it, and reshape its final form.

The workshop was another key experience. Seeing around fifteen participants produce a wide range of colours, textures and compositions from the same basic material demonstrated how many possibilities the process contains and expanded my understanding of its visual and collective potential.

The conversations around the use of gelatine were also revealing. They brought the ethical reading of the materials to the foreground, showed how strongly their origin shapes the perception of the work, and encouraged me to develop a conceptual framework that explicitly addresses where this substance comes from and the implications of its production.

What did it mean to move from two-dimensional surfaces to large sheets and sculptural forms?

The transition from surface to volume transformed both the material’s presence and my way of working. The sheets became thick skins capable of folding, supporting themselves, hanging and reacting to gravity, air and light. They established a physical relationship with visitors, who could move around them and experience changes in colour, transparency and form from different angles.

This scale required new tools, supports, preparation techniques and considerable physical effort. The infrastructure at AIL played a decisive role. To accelerate drying, I placed the sheets over prism-shaped iron structures available in the space. These eventually became part of the work, transforming a sheet originally conceived as a flat extension from ceiling to floor into a sculptural body with multiple layers and viewing angles.

This opened a broad and fertile field for future research and new work. It also reflects an essential aspect of my practice: incorporating solutions and elements that emerge through making and allowing them to transform the original idea.

What does interdisciplinary work mean to you? How does it appear in your work?

Interdisciplinarity is my natural way of working and has always been my modus operandi. I move instinctively between fields according to the needs of each project, allowing their boundaries, methods and questions to become intertwined.

Visual art guides decisions about form, colour, composition and space. Material research, chemistry and biology contribute to the mixtures, pigments and behaviour of bioplastic, while ecology introduces questions about their origin, production, transformation and impact.

Each field expands the others: technical knowledge transforms aesthetic decisions, while artistic questions generate new ways of investigating matter. My work therefore brings process, material, light, perception and ecological reflection together within a single investigation.

For me, interdisciplinarity is the freedom to follow a question wherever it leads, combining methods, languages and knowledge from different fields. The work emerges from this permeable network and the transformations produced within it.