As director of El Museo del Barrio in New York, Patrick Charpenel reflects on his trajectory and on art as a philosophical exploration. A sharp reader of forgotten historical narratives, the Guadalajara-born curator shares his vision of Mexican art and its potential to act as a catalyst for global change.
At the heart of Kurimanzutto gallery—surrounded by works that pulse with the urgency and vitality of contemporary art—Charpenel welcomes me with the calm of someone who has learned to move comfortably between the worlds of art and philosophy. Our conversation unfolds as a shared inquiry: a brief window into his early steps as an artist, his evolution into a curator and collector, and his reflections on Latin American art. Charpenel doesn’t just analyze the current art landscape—he situates it within a narrative that spans centuries, geographies, and social complexities. For him, art is not merely a reflection of the world, but a tool for transformation.
Speaking about the origin of his interest in the field, he shares: “I started painting when I was six years old, and over time, I naturally transitioned into exhibition-making, eventually dedicating myself fully to curatorial work.” Even in his early years as an artist, Charpenel was drawn to the ambiguities of contemporary life: “Although I now work in contemporary art as a curator, we are living through a complex historical moment shaped by telematic culture, where digital interaction often precedes direct experience of the physical world. In this post–Cold War context, practicing my profession feels fascinating.”
This response leads us to explore how his philosophical training continues to shape his work: “Philosophy gave me the tools to define exhibitions with precision, allowing viewers’ encounters with objects and images to rest on clear conceptual foundations.” For Charpenel, curating is about the careful articulation of an integral project. His ability to unite the rigor of theory with the openness of artmaking defines his curatorial style. “I’m drawn to the unexpected,” he adds. “I enjoy stepping outside my comfort zone and exploring unfamiliar terrain—like entering a jungle full of undiscovered species.”
This approach to exploration and interpretation also informs his work as a collector, a role deeply rooted in family history. “The collection began as a family project around 1984, not out of a desire to accumulate objects, but out of a need to engage with undervalued artists and movements,” he explains. For Charpenel, collecting is a critical and reflective practice that extends beyond personal interest—it seeks to elevate neglected cultural narratives. “It’s about giving these works the chance to circulate—not only through exhibitions, but also in print and digital media—making them accessible to broader audiences.”
Naturally, the conversation turns to the trajectory of Mexican art. From his perspective, the country has had a vibrant cultural scene since the late 19th century, characterized by an ongoing search for identity and participation in international avant-gardes. “Key figures from literature, architecture, and the visual arts have positioned Mexico as a visible presence in the global landscape,” he notes. Movements such as Muralism, the Ruptura generation, and later, Conceptual Art, have shaped the country’s production, offering unique perspectives within global dialogues.
What sets 21st-century Mexican art apart, however, is its ability to confront complex issues such as violence, racism, and exclusion, using art as a means of critical reflection. “What has grown significantly,” Charpenel explains, “is the development of a fully integrated cultural ecosystem—one where curators, collectors, artists, specialized media, galleries, and museums collaborate.” He emphasizes that this collective effort has positioned Mexico as a major cultural hub, with Mexico City now home to the second-highest number of museums in the world, after London.
With this in mind, I ask what message Mexico, as an artistic platform, is sending to the world. “That’s an excellent question,” he says. “But to answer it properly, I have to expand beyond Mexico to Latin America as a whole.” He goes on to describe a region that, after experiencing brutal colonization, underwent a process of syncretism that imposed Western symbols and values. And yet, despite this history of domination, there has also been a process of reencounter with native roots—one in which art plays a fundamental role.
Charpenel points out that Latin America is often excluded from global cultural conversations, despite speaking the same symbolic language. “That’s why we’ve created our own spaces for dialogue, like biennials, so we can be seen and heard. I believe the recognition we’ve achieved has come more from internal insistence than from external openness.” He mentions the work of artist Teresa Margolles, whose pieces address themes of violence and femicide, as an example of how art can confront difficult realities and propose new ways of thinking. “Mexico is carving out an important space for tackling urgent issues,” he affirms.
From this perspective, Charpenel sees no limits to the future of contemporary art in Mexico—or across the continent. Rather than simply participating in global narratives, he believes these regions are capable of redefining them, opening new pathways for generations to come.
Interview by: Isabel FloresPhotos: ©Artwork Photography Registry Mauricio Vázquez and Rui Ortiz.
