Don’t disturb me, I’m blooming 

Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains.

Carroll, L. (1869). Alice’s adventures in Wonderland. Macmillan and Co. P. 8.

It is a sunny Saturday morning, in the middle of my summer vacation. I go into the garden. Here I am: “Don’t disturb me, I’m blooming”. This is a moment of metamorphosis in which the body is impregnated with energy and everything becomes an explosion of nature wrapped in vibrant colors and intoxicating aromas. The works presented by artist Fátima de Juan (Palma de Mallorca, 1984) trigger dreamlike sensations, memories. Room 1 at L21 Barcelona embraces us and transports us to the chapter “Trees and flowers” of the “Silly Symphonies” (Disney, 1932). It makes us travel to Wonderland (Lewis Carroll, 1865). For this project, Fátima de Juan transforms the exhibition space into a fresh setting, with dreamy smells and colors that prepare and accompany us in this evolution towards flourishing and abundance.

On this occasion, Fátima’s women pass on a message of serenity and self-care. Their relaxed eyes and sheathed nails spread the peace that comes from stopping the fight when starting a new phase. Deep in their “Flower fortress” (2023), they transport us to a state of contemplation and connection with nature, recalling the importance of stopping and appreciating the natural environment within chaos. The fight is over.

Through her works, de Juan reveals the splendor of flowers, these authentic ephemeral jewels of nature that follow their own laws and rhythms, alien to ours. They provide valuable lessons and encourage reflection on time and trust. Slow processes become beautiful in their continuous contemplation, like Fátima’s crocodile, rejoicing in a cool garden in the painting “Don’t disturb me, I’m blooming” (2023), which waters and baptizes this new project.

The mesmerizing eyes of the “Family Tree” paintings lead these plant chandeliers that emerge from the ground towards the sky, reminiscent of the Gothic. They echo the cyclical restart of the seed that grows at its own pace and drives us towards a fantastic and playful universe, giving space to imagination. They prepare us for photosynthesis, a more organic and slower process, a dance to the rhythm of “Plantasia” (Mort Garson, 1976). Plants invite you to stop time and appreciate it as a gift. They encourage breaking it down into small delights, slowing down, and finding fulfillment in serenity. These works are a return to humor derived from tranquility, a return to Mediterranean slowness through the artist’s language.

The sensitive urge to grow roots to ground my emotions. 

The sensitive urge to lie down in the flowers.

The sensitive urge to feel most at Home in wild places.

Fátima de Juan’s artworks spark sensitivity and invite us to immerse ourselves in a world where nature and imagination are intertwined. They remind of the importance of caring for and appreciating our environment, as well as cultivating our own transformation and inner growth. On this occasion, Fátima enters a garden of sensations where nature becomes a catalyst for personal evolution. In the midst of a fast-paced world, these paintings invite us to stop, breathe and allow ourselves to flourish in our own authenticity. They give us a moment of introspection and connection to what is essential, inspiring us to embrace our florescence and find beauty in the small details of life.

“Don’t disturb me, I’m blooming” is the photosynthesis of artist Fátima de Juan.

Raquel Victoria

Estoy fuerte como Xena La Guerrera

A mí nadie me enseñó el camino

Sola llene la cartera,

no hizo falta vender kilos

Ni ir de gangster, ni ir de na

Entre la niebla esquivando los fantasmas

L21 Gallery presents Pretty Thug, Fátima de Juan’s first solo exhibition. In the large room of  S’Escorxador the project gathers the most emblematic motifs of the Majorcan artist, all her hits in a single space. The title comes from a famous song by Prodigy of Mobb Deep and is, on its own, a declaration of intent.

Pretty and naughty is not a contradiction. In addition to an evident sweetness and an exuberant charm, the protagonists of Fátima de Juan’s paintings ooze character, a lot of strength and a warrior attitude. Unruly, they don’t need anyone to protect them.

Fátima de Juan has developed her own language, as personal as it is recognizable, by painting on the streets. She makes graffiti and murals on brick walls. From her native neighborhood on the outskirts of Palma to Canada, characters and letters (Xena!) made her famous. She was breaking the barriers that exist for women in the world of graffiti (and not only there). Fortunately, these adversities seem to dissipate more every day, although ignorance continues to have its last throes.

In the pristine, almost sacred white space of the gallery, Fátima de Juan maintains her iconography and, defying the usual domestic measurements, presents on this occasion huge canvases with characters that even seem to exceed the limits imposed by the frame. The entire surface is occupied by figures painted with acrylics, spray and many other techniques more typical of tuning than of fine arts. It is better this way; the authenticity of the content and form are indisputable.

In this passage from the outside to the inside, from the street to the showroom, the artist pays remarkable attention to detail and takes great care in the treatment of surfaces, without losing the essence of her language. Painting on canvas has allowed her to pay attention to the details that in graffiti, from afar, do not look as obvious as on canvas. Now, as we get closer, the surface spits paint and demands our attention. Her icons appeal to us. Once we overcome the initial amazement at the monumentality and forcefulness of what is represented, we stop in front of the paintings as if trapped, searching and finding things. Whereas in the city her murals made us see the neighborhood in a different, more bearable way, now her canvases invite us to lose ourselves within their painted frames.

Gangsta chick

I need a gangsta chick

I want the gangsta do it with my gangsta chick

Give me the gangsta chick

Robert Crumb also longed for a Pretty Thug. His fantasy was focused not on the weapons and crooks that Prodigy of Mobb Deep aims at, but on a strong attitude accompanied by a powerful body, like the sculptures of Maillol. In many of his comics, the great Crumb wished to teach the last decadent male chauvinists how to tear down stereotypes, allowing them to be lulled by personified voluptuousness.

God is a girl, almost makes you want to add: and a pretty thug one, indeed. A full body fighter, defiant and armed, with eyes half-closed and a grim face, looks at us straight ahead, brandishing a flail. A huge vertical canvas measuring 350 x 250 cm, accompanied by two equally large horizontal canvases, Thug Mami 1 and Thug Mami 2. A bit trashy, always tender, decidedly Amazonian, somewhat futuristic.

Their footwear is not for modelling, but for fighting. Good girls go to heaven, but bad girls go everywhere. On Fatima’s long journey ahead, it is better to wear suitable shoes to take firm steps: those Dino shoes seem ideal. Dragons, dinosaurs, tarantulas and alligators burst into this world, mix and multiply, play with the fruits that decorate her portraits, move sinuously between the nape and the earrings. They are mutated beasts, docile and playful mixtures, perhaps tamed by the same protagonists, although they keep their wild and mischievous energy intact. At this point no one expects the providential arrival of Saint George to slay the dragon and save the helpless maiden. No divine or male intervention is required.

Although it is clear where these works come from and what place they want to occupy, they still unsettle us. The legacy of urban graffiti and of the DIY chav culture is evident, but there is something else in these canvases, something catchy. A carefree mix of styles and references, musical and plastic, distant from each other. It is the mashup culture, “of suppression of borders, of wild overlapping of styles that nobody in their right mind would want to mix, unless illogical connections were established with an unexpected internal coherence”. This is how Javier Blánquez describes the kind of musical collages present in Rosalía or Björk’s sophisticate productions.

It is when sitting on the fence, against labels and classifications, that tension can be created and that, if well channel, it can catch the viewer’s attention. The enjoyment that Fátima de Juan’s canvases provokes is created by this tension between opposites, an indefinable place, between Haute Couture and Athleisure. If the distinction between high and low culture is fortunately over, leaving its outdated trace behind, many other barriers still hinder the walk. Although the field of expression does not have keys, and hers, well, it is hers.

Lo mío es punto y aparte

Tírame pa’lante

Calle, pero elegante

Francesco Giaveri