1. Introduction
In the Spanish context, art historiography has tended to relegate the study of galleries—and, by extension, their gallerists—to a secondary position. This omission, which reinforces the neglect of galleries’ role in shaping the local artistic framework, is particularly significant when considering the importance these spaces acquired during a period of dynamism for conceptual and experimental artistic practices. Building on this idea, Pedro Marín Boza’s book Galerías de arte. Conceptos, historias y otras particularidades [Art galleries. Concepts, histories and other particularities] (2024) argues that, among other gaps, the lack of a clear definition of gallery practice leads to a historiographical void, thus opening the possibility for new research on the subject.
In this article, in addition to revisiting Marín’s postulates—according to which generating historical studies on galleries will allow us to understand their key role in the contemporary context (
Marín Boza 2024, p. 43)—we focus on the figure of a woman who was a leading figure in Spanish contemporary art market: Mercedes Buades. Through her eponymous gallery, the Buades Gallery (1973–2003), we aim to understand the position she occupied within the network derived from the development of conceptual art in Spain. In doing so, we contribute with our small seed to this Special Issue of
Arts, which aims to map key women within emerging markets, through our own contribution: the context of Spanish conceptual art in the 1970s.
The definition of conceptualism used here aligns with the doctoral thesis from which this essay originates.
1 In both the academic project and this article, we maintain the hypothesis that, although many key artists involved in the emergence of the movement opposed the commercialisation of the artwork—some even attempting to achieve a dematerialisation that would prevent it—, all the agents within the artistic field eventually understood the impossibility of escaping the market. The inherent utopia in this idea gave rise to new narratives, in line with the political and ideological climate of the time. This art made had to find spaces and galleries willing to go beyond being mere places of contemplation and, instead, become information centres and gathering points for artists and critics. However, although these galleries were aligned with conceptualism, they also adhered to the logic of capitalism: their exhibited artworks inevitably came to be understood as just another product within this context.
To understand the relevance of the Buades Gallery and to carry out this essay, it has been necessary to refer to a key publication: the catalogue Galería Buades. 30 años de arte contemporáneo [Buades Gallery. 30 years of contemporary art], which accompanied the exhibition commemorating the donation of the Buades Archive to the Patio Herreriano Museum of Contemporary Art (Valladolid, Spain, 2007–2008). In this catalogue, Alberto Corazón, a conceptual artist and graphic designer, recounts the initial stages of the project in the 1970s from his own perspective. Commissioned to design the space’s logo, Corazón found inspiration from Mercedes Buades’ affinity for all forms of visual creation. In doing so, he arrived at a characteristic archetype that would imbue the space with a poetic personality: a future open to the artistic trends of the time, exemplified by an oil tube open to the world (see
Figure 1) (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 150).
Mercedes Buades and her gallery embodied a paradigm of the future—“an oil tube open to the world”—by taking on the task of promoting emerging art, which was beyond the reach of the state, in a post-Franco Spain era that lacked a consolidated museum network. In the following pages, we will focus on the objective that arises from these statements: to understand how a woman of great capabilities like Buades transformed her gallery into a space for the professionalisation of an emerging experimental art, from 1973 (the year the gallery opened) until 1978 (when conceptual exhibitions ceased to feature in its programme; the gallery was open until 2003). During its early years, and therefore its most conceptual period, Buades not only managed to host some of the most interesting artists for Spanish conceptualism but also positioned her gallery, along with the emerging currents of the Spanish context, within the global art market network. She was supported by key figures such as Juan Manuel Bonet—an art critic who was in charge of the space in its early phase—and Chiqui Abril (her partner during the development of the Project).
It was within this self-established distribution network for conceptualism, characterised by the development of adapted spaces—or, at times, created ad hoc—that the role of women became fundamental, as they conceived gallery work not only from a commercial point of view but also as a driving force behind symbolic construction in the artistic field. This phenomenon, which we will address through the analysis of the Buades Gallery, will help explore the articulation of a Spanish network that legitimised conceptual art, emerging outside of the public administration. This form of visibility was made possible by a network built not only among artists but also between galleries, creating a dissemination platform for highly relevant agents.
The discursive tools used to study a gallery like Buades stem from the sociology of art and the social history of art. In our case, we incorporate the contributions of two key figures into this dialogue: Enrico Castelnuovo and Pierre Bourdieu. Castelnuovo is particularly relevant due to his conception of the social history of art, from which it is possible to analyse the social structures of artistic production through the study of different agents—in our case, the gallerist—within the artistic field. His methodology allows us to understand the generation of social, economic, and cultural capital within a structure embedded in a specific social and temporal context. On the other hand, Bourdieu supports our theoretical framework by offering key tools for understanding how the different agents built relationships that result in relational systems of production, circulation, and consumption. The central role of the art market in these processes is affirmed by various authors. Núria Peist highlights the importance of the artist’s engagement with commercial galleries as a condition for success in modern art; Antoine Hennion offers a contemporary perspective through his reflections on artistic mediation; and Angela McRobbie’s concept of the creative dispositif sheds light on the gallery as a multifaceted space, encompassing diverse activities related to art.
2. Methodology and Theoretical Framework
Present as a backdrop, the theories of the social history of art and the sociology of art allow us to construct a discursive narrative that acknowledges the absences in art history regarding the figure of the gallerist. In Arte, industria y revolución. Temas de historia social del arte [Art, Industry and Revolution: Themes in the Social History of Art] (1988), Enrico Castelnuovo defines the social history of art as a method that begins with the social layers that permeate the contemporary nature of artistic production, focusing on “artistic phenomena and social forms” (
Castelnuovo 1988, p. 27). Unlike conventional art history, which addresses production from formalist, ontological, or historiographical perspectives, this approach studies the contemporary society of the artwork, placing significant emphasis on its historical and social dimensions.
According to this theoretical framework, we can approach the socio-historical conditions of art and society through its protagonists: artists, patrons, public, institutions, critics, and art historians, as well as the agents responsible for its distribution. Among the latter, we place the figure of the gallerist, whose work is key to providing the artistic field with a specific structure within a particular social and temporal context. It is precisely at this point, the role of the gallery institution and the gallerist, where we will focus our attention.
“Placing a work in the context of a system, referring it to a model by identifying some of its elements and establishing a relationship between them and certain prototypes” (ibid., p. 92) forms a line of thought that begins with the connections between the artwork and the agents of its social context. For Castelnuovo’s social history of art, institutions and galleries are crucial in ensuring the social distribution of the artwork. Through this lens, they are responsible for a range of tasks, such as legitimisation, promotion, selection, exchange, sale, conservation, protection, inventorying, mediation, and reproduction, which defines the gallery space as the place where the autonomy of art enables the development of relational systems of production, circulation, and consumption (ibid., p. 83).
If we focus on the case of mediation, we become aware of the need to incorporate certain voices from more recent studies. Through the figure of Antoine Hennion—who has developed a sociology of art based in music—we understand this network of structural consolidations through a pragmatic approach: the mediation. These networks are built through relational processes, and it is within them that the value of art emerges, in a system of agents capable of mediating: curators, exhibition critics, or even non-human agents with their own agency
2—such as catalogues—constitute key elements of a network that is not only constructed, but must also be mediated in order to shape the value of art (conceptual art, in our case) (
Hennion 2017, p. 2).
Hennion is a prominent figure in the field of sociology for his development of a pragmatic approach to mediation, in which mediation ceases to be a mere intermediary between object and subject and becomes constitutive of the artistic experience: it not only transmits but transforms. The artistic experience, then, does not exist as a fixed entity, but is constructed through networks of mediation in which spatial context plays a fundamental role (ibid., p. 2)—a context which, in our case, was shaped within the walls of Buades Gallery—Hennion argues that music is an “object made of mediation that requires restitution through the performer’s interpretation and the amateur’s activity” (ibid., p. 2). The parallels with music are worth recovering, especially given that, as Hennion himself states, they are “ideas that apply equally to music as to technical projects” (ibid., p. 4). From this point of view, objects can be understood as provisional outcomes of a web of interrelated elements, which in turn produce further objects “without any stable distinction between medium and content, networks and actors, products and users” (ibid., p. 4). This aligns with the notion of dematerialisation and the early utopian premises of conceptualism.
From his logic of mediation—which stems from an immaterial conception particularly useful in this context—Hennion suggests understanding art as a heterogeneous amalgam of “resistances and accumulated effects” (ibid., p. 6), resisting the tendency to see it merely as a social artefact. Mediation, ultimately, is a web of associative threads that cannot be reduced to social interpretations or to an invisible logic (ibid., p. 6). It involves rejecting the notion of the artwork as a totem, as a simple vehicle for cultural codes projected by human actors.
Returning to Castelnuovo and the social history of art and the sociology of art, and although both approaches may be considered similar, there are key differences between the two disciplines that must be distinguished. The social history of art enables us to situate ourselves within the structures of a society, and use them as a method to study the “history of the institutions related to the artistic field (patrons, academies, market)” and “artistic phenomena in direct, and often determining, relation to social structures, as well as when investigating the material conditions of artistic production” (
Castelnuovo 1988, p. 33). That said, the sociology of art focuses its efforts on studying the artistic field surrounding the artwork, paying attention to the functions and variations that define it both qualitatively and quantitatively (ibid.). Although distinct, both approaches are complementary. While the social history of art begins with a historical interpretation centred on the social and economic structures of each historical moment, the sociology of art moves away from historical evolution to delve into the social dynamics that affect the production, distribution, and reception of the artwork.
Shifting to the sociology of art, it is in the concept of the artistic field—introduced by Castelnuovo based on Pierre Bourdieu—where we find the importance of institutions as spaces in which the autonomy of art is achieved through relational systems of production, circulation, and consumption. Bourdieu establishes a sociological and structuralist model of analysis that allows us to view society as a set of interrelated fields, although each retains its autonomy. In the case of the artistic field, the agents that comprise it compete to obtain the various goods offered within it (
Peters 2020, p. 181).
From this perspective, the artistic field—where the role of the gallerist and their importance in the process of recognition, in our case, is approached from a potentially experimental and transgressive art such as conceptual art—is defined as “the space of power relations between agents or institutions that share the necessary capitals—economic, social, cultural, symbolic, etc.—to occupy dominant positions within the field” (ibid., p. 96). All the agents who become part of the artistic field, including gallerists, are compelled to learn its rules in order to maintain a constant attempt at legitimisation (ibid., p. 103)
Bourdieu’s theory of fields, along with all the insights drawn from the sociology of art that we place in dialogue with the social history of art, is key to understanding the relationships between artists and agents involved in artistic production and diffusion (other artists, critics, gallery directors, patrons, etc.) (ibid., p. 94). In this framework, what is at stake is none other than the power to decide who is recognised as an artist and who holds the authority to legitimise that decision. In this context, museums, critics, educational institutions, artists, curators, and galleries play an important role within the artistic field in contributing to the legitimacy of the work and permeating it with social value. Ultimately, an art piece, outside the artistic field and stripped of these agents who grant it legitimacy, lacks real value: “the artist who manages to have their works recognised as works will do so through their strategies and exchanges among the various social agents who contribute to the production, circulation, and reception of the work,” affirms Tomás Peters (ibid., p. 95).
The knowledge of the sociology of art does not end here. With this theoretical discipline, we aim to add new layers of interpretation based on the theories of artistic recognition, which, within this framework, we define through key concepts extracted from El éxito en el arte moderno. Trayectorias artísticas y proceso de reconocimiento [Success in Modern Art: Artistic Trajectories and the Recognition Process] by
Peist (
2012). In this publication, Peist identifies positions that align with our theoretical notion. For example, the inclusion of artists (conceptual artists, in our case) within the commercial scene (situated within the artistic field) is a sine qua non condition for professional and artistic recognition.
Further exploring Peist’s theories, we can identify two phases of recognition that are easily distinguishable from one another: an initial phase, where various artists or gallery owners, as amateurs, are recognised as such by their peers; and a secondary phase, where different agents organise the entry into art history for those artists and movements that have passed through the first (
Peist 2012, p. 98). In the terminology extracted from Peist, the commercial framework plays an important role in the legitimisation of any artist. To this end, the author divides the market into three sections: the first is a restricted market, configured by an emerging private audience close to the artists; the second, mostly anonymous, is composed of everyday buyers and collectors with no further ambition than mere acquisition. The third market is legitimising in nature, as here, the judgement of buyers opens the doors of artists to prestigious institutions (ibid., p. 111). Adapting this to our object of study, the market for conceptual art, it went through these three phases, with the first phase—the private market close to the artists—being particularly relevant. The Buades Gallery exemplified a distribution space in 1970s Madrid that survived due to the personal and professional relationships built around the space. Thus, the commercial circuit allows for the establishment of relational networks of special relevance for artists and creators associated with new artistic behaviours, a point that becomes more pronounced if we focus on a conceptualism rooted collectively.
Finally, with the aim of enriching our academic discussion through contributions and readings connected to the current discourse, Angela McRobbie’s concept of the creative dispositif becomes relevant, especially after having demonstrated the importance of the gallery context as a site of mediation and a stage for the legitimisation of the artistic narrative. Reviewed by Lisa Henderson in the International Journal of Communication, this term—originating in McRobbie’s thought—is useful for describing a network of policies, personal and institutional practices (in our case, those emerging from the gallery), aspirations, worldviews, physical dispositions and affects that together shape a set of norms. It is through these norms that the gallery, the creative dispositif, articulated either from within the art system encourages emerging artists to enter into the cultural industry (
Henderson 2016, p. 4168).
In the case of Buades Gallery, the parameters defined by McRobbie as constitutive of this creative dispositif are clear when analysing the trajectory of a gallerist such as Mercedes Buades. The gallery’s policies were closely entwined with both its programming and the core philosophy of the project: they were policies oriented towards working with emerging artists whose experimental practices often struggled to find a place within other galleries in the Spanish art scene of the 1970s (although they ultimately did). This orientation enabled Mercedes Buades, in the early stages of the gallery’s life, to realise her aspiration of giving space to young, and often conceptual, art proposals—many influenced by the figure of Juan Manuel Bonet. Thus, becoming a space not only for development but also for commercialisation, the gallery eventually functioned as a creative dispositif in which capitalist logics generated a labour force that professionalised conceptual art. This force was at once enthusiastic and precarious due to the synergy between art and the market. From an external perspective, this operational model was key in allowing certain artists within the Madrid scene to recognise the gallery’s dispositif as a space of professionalisation, legitimisation, exhibition, and dissemination. As such, while many of these creators were resistant to the mercantile logics of the art world, they could not remain unaffected by the dynamics of the establishment (ibid).
3. Conceptual Art ≠ Market; Conceptual Art = Market; Conceptual Art ⇆ Market
In
Six Years: The Dematerialization of the Art Object, Lucy Lippard defines conceptual art as an artistic typology open in both content and style, whose specificity lies in the material. A material located in the idea, for which form is “secondary, of little substance, ephemeral, cheap, unpretentious, and/or dematerialised” (
Lippard 2004, p. 8). When linking art and conceptualism, it is no secret that dematerialisation sought to displace the traditional conception of art based on outdated premises such as permanence, the uniqueness of the work, or decorative appeal, thus renouncing a classical procedure, but not material as a factual element (
Marchán 2012, pp. 380–81).
The result was an artistic product that, due to its distance from the canonical understanding of art, initially made it impossible for a market to interpret the works as mere exchange value. However, although conceptual artists advocated for dematerialisation (the primacy of the idea in the process of perceiving the artistic practice) they, in the end, could not work without the material, as it is analogous to its importance for producing, disseminating and consuming within the artistic field.
The idea resulting from understanding dematerialisation as a utopian process is simple: materialisation is not eliminated entirely, because without it, the artwork has no place (ibid., p. 380). From this conclusion, we understand that the anti-market position was merely an attempt to overthrow the art system or, in the case of conceptual art, a way of constructing new narratives aligned with the social and political ideologies of the time. Specifically in Spain, the discourse surrounding the dematerialisation of the artistic object facilitated a move away from the analytical trends of Anglo-Saxon conceptual art, directing attention instead to a social and political reality shaped by the socio-artistic (
Parcerisas 2007, pp. 26–27).
In other cases, authors such as Robert C. Morgan have emphasised the process as a product in the definition of conceptual art in relation to the market. Morgan views the documentation surrounding conceptualism as evidence of an art with a dematerialised tendency that, when linked to the market, becomes the “primary source for reconstructing the meaning of the work based on its intentionality” (
Morgan 2003, p. 122). After all, and as Lucy Lippard also noted, despite “the minor revolutions in communication achieved by the dematerialisation of the artistic object”, always “art and artists in a capitalist society remain as a luxury” (
Lippard 2004, p. 27).
Thus, the dematerialisation of conceptual art led to a utopia that, inevitably, gave rise to its own strategies of dissemination and distribution, for which the objectual question and the material remnants also played a key role in the commercialisation of conceptual art. On this matter, as Robert C. Morgan points out, documents—materials in their essence—were crucial in demonstrating the existence of a processual work of art, turning them into a primary tool for these practices that were meant to be dematerialised (
Morgan 2003, p. 124); the fetishism of the material remnants opened the door to the market. Referring to conceptualism in Spain, Mónica Gutiérrez asserts that “in many cases, as there was no other proof of the existence of the conceptual work except in documentary form, the document became a new category compatible with and profitable for the art gallery” (
Gutiérrez 1997, pp. 232–33). In this way, the bourgeoisie ended up acquiring such pieces thanks to their residual materiality, thus encouraging a form of collecting driven by the intrinsic novelty of conceptual art.
At the international level it is pertinent to highlight certain galleries that, since the 1960s, played a decisive role in the consolidation and dissemination of conceptual art. This idea of conceptualism and its relationship with the art market helps to contextualise the relevance of studying the Buades Gallery and the influence of its gallerist, Mercedes Buades. As will be demonstrated throughout this article, the gallery not only served as a platform for the exhibition of new artistic practices but also played a crucial role in fostering essential relational networks within the Spanish art scenario, as also happened in the two examples detailed below. While similar dynamics can be observed internationally, the focus here remains on the specific impact within the Spanish context, though it is important to briefly acknowledge these broader parallel phenomena.
An iconic example is the Konrad Fischer Gallery, founded in 1967 in Düsseldorf. Directed by the gallerist who bears his own name, and with the key support from his wife, Dorothee Fischer, the gallery is widely recognised as one of the most influential in the European and international context, particularly regarding the professionalisation of conceptual art. From the beginning, Fischer’s project was conceived not merely as a commercial enterprise but as a space for visibility, legitimisation, and experimentation for contemporary artists operating on the margins of the German art system. Under this framework, practices focused on process rather than object were promoted, creating an ideal environment for the consolidation of figures such as Carl Andre, Sol LeWitt, Richard Long, and Bruce Nauman, among others. The gallery ultimately became a fundamental node in the axis between Düsseldorf and New York, thus configuring networks of exchange and circulation that enhanced the internationalisation of conceptual art (
Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona 2010, p. 8).
Likewise, Konrad Fischer spearheaded an initiative of great relevance in the European context of experimental art circulation: the
Prospect project (1968–1976). This series of exhibitions, held annually for eight years, functioned as an alternative fair in critical response to the traditional mechanisms of the artistic establishment, particularly the Kunstmarkt of Cologne (1967) (a direct precursor of the Art Cologne fair).
Prospect facilitated dialogue among international galleries—in the Spanish case, the Seiquer Gallery participated in the 1969 edition—and made visible emerging practices that challenged the conventions established by the system (
Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona 2010, p. 47).
Simultaneously, in the United States, the New York scene had another essential figure in the institutionalisation and professionalisation of conceptual art: the dealer Seth Siegelaub. Between 1964 and 1966, through his gallery, and later between 1968 and 1971 via a series of independent initiatives, Siegelaub articulated a network of agents that connected the North American and European contexts. In this sense, Siegelaub organized a total of 21 exhibitions involving key artists and agents of Anglo-Saxon conceptualism, such as Lawrence Weiner and Joseph Kosuth. Many of these projects assigned a central role to the catalogue as a mediation tool with agency per se, an agent similar to the one pointed out by Antoine Hennion in his studies on artistic mediation (
Hennion 2017).
Siegelaub also stood out for experimenting with alternative models of production and distribution. One example of this practice was the publication of
Xerox Book (1968), a low-cost, offset-printed edition featuring contributions by Carl Andre, Robert Barry, Douglas Huebler, Joseph Kosuth, Sol LeWitt, Robert Morris, and Lawrence Weiner, in which each artist had a page as an autonomous space for creation. This publication later became the core of an exhibition, the
January Show (1969), in which the catalogue not only documented but also constituted the conceptual axis of the project, openly critiquing traditional institutional exhibition formats (
MoMA 2013).
Finally, the importance of the contractual agreement developed by Siegelaub together with lawyer Robert Projansky must be mentioned: The Artist’s Reserved Rights Transfer and Sale Agreement (1971). This document stipulated the rights and obligations of artists regarding the sale, exhibition, reproduction, and circulation of their works and introduced a clause recognising the artist’s entitlement to 15% of profits in the case of resale. Although it was not widely adopted (partly due to resistance from the market and collectors to granting this percentage in cases of resale), it constituted a fundamental precedent in the professionalisation of emerging art and in the defence of artists’ rights against the dominant institutional system (ibid).
4. Notes on the Spanish Art Market in the 1970s: The Rise of the Gallery Culture
To understand the importance of the Buades Gallery within the Spanish artistic ecosystem, we must briefly consider the cultural context of the 1970s. In a moment of political instability resulting from the Francoist dictatorship, Spanish artists and intellectuals began to adopt positions aligned with an anti-fascist ideology. However, the political situation began to focus on “transmitting a false and flattering image of Spain” (
Mayayo and Marzo 2015, pp. 254–55), using the reinforcement of culture to position the country internationally. This process was accompanied, between 1960 and 1974, by positive economic results arising from the expansion of the service sector, with tourism and the arts playing a key role (ibid., p. 250). Under these circumstances, the Buades Gallery was founded in 1973, two years before the death of Francisco Franco (1975) and during a period of artistic and economic growth in response to the cultural precariousness of the dictatorship (ibid., p. 346).
However, cultural policies still presented certain gaps and deficiencies, particularly regarding the museum sector. Not only poor from a discursive perspective, but also economically, art museums were unattractive and inaccessible to the general public, almost due to decaying infrastructures and a confusing legal and administrative situation. In this sense, private initiatives, along with galleries, sought to address the cultural deficiencies left by the dictatorship during the 1960s and well into the 1970s, playing a key role in solving this problem (ibid., pp. 258–59).
Similarly, the strengthening of the financial sector led to an economic “boom” that benefited the art sector, resulting in an increase in galleries run by agents outside the art world. An example of this are the companies that, in search of economic profitability, began to invest in works of art, while at the same time trying to create a noble and dignified image for themselves in a context in which art was consolidating itself as an engine of cultural development. In this scenario, a new type of collector emerged, driven by speculation, breaking away from the classic image of the pre-existing collector up until that point (
Rodríguez-Aguilera et al. 1974, p. 80). The 1970s, when the Buades Gallery emerged, were heirs to this moment: although in 1962 art sales were characterised by general prudence, by the early 1970s, the art market experienced a “boom”, as Spanish society became more interested in culture (ibid., p. 89).
Similarly, at the end of the twentieth century, as Nuria Peist notes, the market began to consolidate, leading to the professionalisation of all agents (including gallerists) and giving them a certain legitimising power. From the 1960s onwards, contemporary art, even if it adopted forms such as dematerialisation, began to move towards musealisation. However, before this happened, the market took the lead, initiating the recognition, exhibition, and commercialisation of experimental art (
Peist 2012, pp. 244–46). These historical notes develop within a political moment in which, in Spain, the Ministry of Culture was established in 1977, when the artistic field was characterised as a privileged medium for the construction of identities linked to political reconciliation and social liberation (
Mayayo and Marzo 2015, p. 347).
The gallery rise and its cultural flourishing built a gallery network for which Buades was a primordial space in Madrid. The proliferation of these spaces dedicated to the sale and exhibition of art was accompanied by a variety of exhibitions, leading to a golden age for the fine arts within the context of contemporary Spanish art (
Rodríguez-Aguilera et al. 1974, p. 16). Between 1970 and 1990, no fewer than 53 contemporary art galleries were opened in Madrid, many of which are essential references for understanding the development of artistic activity in the 20th century. These include Juana de Aizpuru Gallery, Vandrés Gallery, Redor Gallery, Gamarra y Garrigues Gallery, Buades Gallery, and Juana Mordó Gallery (
López Cuenca 2004, pp. 32–33). Mercedes Buades recalls in an interview with the author that it was a time when “galleries became fashionable, just as it had once been fashionable to open clothing boutiques” (
Buades and Escribano 2021).
Within this scope, the social elite discovered in the gallery scene and in the art collecting a well of distinction. It was in many of these galleries that the bourgeoisie developed a hunger for acquiring symbolic, social, and cultural capital. In Spain, according to José Corredor Matheos, the contemporary art scene was very localised (
Rodríguez-Aguilera et al. 1974, p. 34), which is why galleries like Buades played an important role in relation to experimental art. Similarly, it is interesting how in this same publication, El arte en la sociedad contemporánea [The art in contemporary society] (1974), the author attests to how the art market “mixed, in the most disorderly manner, intelligent speculative campaigns with sporadic actions” (ibid., p. 80).
All of this facilitated the normalisation of the Spanish art market on the global stage, as in Spain it transitioned from being a business of “landscapes, watercolours, portraits, and flower paintings by amateurs and semi-professional artists” (
Mayayo and Marzo 2015, p. 260) to a professionalised market, aligned with globalisation. As Juan Albarrán states in a paper titled “Del “desarrollismo” al “entusiasmo”: notas sobre arte español en tiempos de transición” [From ‘Developmentalism’ to ‘Enthusiasm’: Notes on Spanish Art in Times of Transition] (2008), there existed “an art system similar to that of our European neighbours (museums, galleries, curators)” (
Albarrán 2008, p. 184), but with significant cultural shortcomings. Even during the dictatorship, access to culture through artists, musicians, filmmakers, and writers allowed social mobilisation to condemn Spain’s backwardness in comparison to the rest of the world. By the mid-1970s, this situation changed considerably: galleries became professionalised, and art began to be integrated into the social and political reality of the public (
Mayayo and Marzo 2015, p. 348).
In conclusion, it is important to consider the international proliferation of galleries that eventually reached the Spanish context, as demonstrated in the preceding paragraphs. Several factors behind this emergence stemmed from the global economy: speculation on artworks, which gained momentum after the First World War; a form of collecting accelerated by supply and demand, which helped maintain stable prices and ensured the profitability of artworks; donations to foundations and museums, which also sustained the value of an artwork in line with the price paid, if not increasing it; or investment in art during periods of declining confidence in currency (
Rodríguez-Aguilera et al. 1974, p. 211). Likewise, on the international stage, the rise of galleries was reinforced by events such as the Cologne Art Fair in 1968, the Basel Fair in 1970, and the Venice Biennale in 1964 (ibid., p. 80). Konrad Fischer Gallery and Seth Siegelaub Gallery are the examples previously discussed to illustrate the influence of leading galleries in establishing a role model followed worldwide.
5. Mercedes’ Gallery, a Key Space for Spanish Culture During the Transition
The Buades Gallery opened in 1973 in Madrid. Mercedes, in conversation with María Escribano, explains how, before settling on Claudio Coello as the gallery’s official location, and during one of her first visits to view the space with Juan Manuel Bonet (the gallery’s first artistic director until 1974), a kind stranger accompanied her to the street where the gallery would be finally located. On arrival, Bonet asked if they knew each other: the stranger was none other than the conceptual artist Isidoro Valcárcel Medina. Decades later, in 1996, he would be included in the group exhibition
Charcutería, la carne y la sangre que faltan a los 90 [Charcuterie, the Flesh and Blood Missing in the 90s] (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 244). Mercedes had found “the right place at the right time”.
The project began to take shape in Mallorca, the island where Mercedes was born and where her passion for collecting first blossomed. Her education, undertaken in San Sebastián, was focused on secretarial training. This educational decision was deeply influenced by the patriarchal figure in her life: her family never considered the possibility of Mercedes attending university, especially her father. For her, however, “the drive to live life on my own terms far outweighed any desire to study” (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 103). As a result, her father sent her to San Sebastián to train in a bank branch. The aim was to keep her in a conservative city, to suppress her youthful impulses and temper her political ideals. However, the outcome was quite the opposite: “since the French border was nearby, we used to cross over to get banned books, sneaking them back in” (ibid.).
Upon emigrating to the capital at the age of 21, her first attempts to find work were directed towards galleries, due to her interest in culture and collecting, a passion inherited from her family. However, the refusal of galleries such as Juana Mordó to incorporate her into their team led to the creation of her own space. To do so, she initially received financial support from her family and from Pere Serra, a Mallorcan collector and a friend of the Buades family with experience in the dynamics of the artistic field (
Buades and Escribano 2021). The role of this agent, linked to the press industry, was essential for the gallery: in addition to being one of the first investors who aimed to make Buades a centre for the dissemination of Mallorcan art in Madrid, he was the owner of the
Majorca Daily Bulletin, a magazine whose target audience was the international tourism established on the island. The other initial investor was the Buades family, who in the 1970s were involved in the manufacture of taps in Mallorca, and of whom Mercedes Buades is proud, as they had never engaged in speculation or real estate construction (
Vallés 2008).
Although Mercedes’s father initially opposed the youth ideals of the time, he agreed to invest in the gallery, following Serra’s advice. Together, they aimed to create a cultural centre that could promote the artistic development of Mallorcan culture in Madrid, marking the end of the dictatorship. However, when Buades moved to the Spanish capital to pursue the project, she met a young Juan Manuel Bonet, just 19 years old, who would go on to become the gallery’s first artistic director. Nevertheless, from 1974 onwards, Mercedes Buades, together with Chiqui Abril, took full control of the artistic direction and management of the gallery. It was at this point that Abril, Buades’s partner, became actively involved in the business. Nevertheless, it is no secret that Juan Manuel Bonet’s presence played a key role in shifting the gallery’s focus, influencing the evolution of its original vision.
The knowledge of the artistic field provided by Bonet, along with his well-established network of contacts built around the different artistic and cultural agents of the time, ensured that various figures from the cultural scene frequently visited the gallery. The support among peers, which is of particular significance to sociologists such as Nuria Peist, was present when Buades Gallery emerged. This collaboration between galleries fostered the creation of connections with professionals such as gallerists Juana Mordó and Fernando Vijande (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 108). This is the moment identified by Peist, in which the gallery owner (equally applicable to artists and other cultural agents) puts aside competition and begins to recognise their peers, paving the way for a prosperous collaboration. As amateurs, gallery owners also recognise themselves as such by their allies due to their newcomer role within the distribution circuit, for which the art market plays a central role in the distribution process (
Peist 2012, p. 98).
Bonet’s influence was crucial in transforming Buades from a sort of Mallorcan artistic embassy into a gallery with broader goals: its objectives went beyond sales and aimed to provide a space for various cultural actions and activities in the Spanish capital (
Buades and Escribano 2021). At the time of its inauguration, the gallery’s opening exhibition included a section dedicated to dematerialised experimentation and conceptual art documentation. This featured artists such as Francesc Abad, Jordi Benito, Alberto Corazón, Nacho Criado, Antoni Muntadas, Carles Santos, and Josep Ponsatí (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 234). Following this, the family ceased its financial support, leaving Mercedes in charge of a business that would become crucial for the development of contemporary art in Spain. The gallery also played a significant role in the social movement, hosting events like those related to the amnesty of political prisoners or demonstrations supporting the liberation of homosexuals in 1977 (
Buades and Escribano 2021).
Mercedes Buades built, from the ground up and with her name as a brand, one of the most iconic gallery spaces of the 1970s. The gallerist stood out for her role in legitimising works of art by emerging artists, acting as a bridge between the emerging artistic creation and an increasingly eager public for cultural innovations. However, despite her significance as a key figure in the development of contemporary art in Spain (from a general point of view, not only conceptualism), male dominance still prevailed in the 1970s. One of the situations that best highlights this reality is the role of women in child-rearing. This is whyChiqui Abril joined the gallery in 1974 to, among other tasks, manage it while Mercedes Buades was forced to take on pregnancy and the upbringing of their first child: “I had to leave the gallery for two years after the birth of my son, because back then it was only women who took on that role,” Buades stated in an interview (
Terrasa 2002). In addition to the difficulty of navigating a male-dominated world, Buades had to face the economic precariousness of the sector, which threatened the integrity of the project (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 18). When asked about the financial aspect in a conversation with the author, it becomes clear that economic challenges were an inherent part of running a gallery dedicated to supporting young artists: “The initial intention was to select an interesting artist, and then we were convinced that, since it was interesting, the sales would follow […]. The problem was that this didn’t happen” (
Buades and Escribano 2021). This first-person statement by Buades reveals a particularly relevant issue when seeking to avoid the glorification of her figure: the tension between the market and the artwork remained evident. Although an artist’s integration into the gallery’s programme was a sine qua non condition, the gallery still functioned as a space for legitimising the art market.
The management capacity of the gallery owner, along with the significant role she played in the development of contemporary art in Spain, made her worthy of the Gold Medal of the Merit in the Fine Arts by the Spanish Ministry of Culture in 2002; while this recognition honours the figure of the gallerist, it is interesting to observe how the system, sooner or later, ends up absorbing those very discourses that once aimed to subvert it. In interviews conducted in the context of this honour, Buades reflects that one of her mistakes was paying little attention to the market (
Terrasa 2002). Nevertheless, for a social history of art that is still expanding in terms of studying the various agents in the artistic field, this “mistake” becomes the main characteristic that allowed Mercedes to enter the social history of Spanish art.
At all times, Mercedes Buades worked by distancing herself from the commercial concerns that inevitably torment the gallerist, avoiding straying from her main mission: artistic dissemination. She achieved this by distributing exhibitions and their curatorial texts in newspaper format. This documentation provided the gallery viewer with the necessary tools to engage with the artwork (
Buades and Escribano 2021). However, this distance did not prevent the gallery from becoming a vehicle for the institutionalisation and market integration of conceptual practices. Acting as a mediator between artists, the public, and collectors, the gallery embodied the broader tension between cultural innovation and its reliance on systems of distribution and legitimisation. In doing so, it paradoxically subverted conceptual discourse by serving as an exhibition platform—always viewed through a commercial lens.
With this essay, we further explore our hypothesis regarding the tensions present in gallery spaces, including those that at one time shared ideals aligned with the underground art. Thus, galleries also failed to escape the paradoxes of the capitalist system. The case of Buades allows us to observe that, although they functioned as spaces of resistance, they continued to promote the art market and benefit from the novelty factor, thereby also becoming instruments of commodification.
6. Buades’s Support for Spanish Conceptualism
In this article, we explore the intersection between conceptual art and the market from a unique perspective, strengthening the image of Mercedes Buades and her eponymous gallery as a space of professional potential for conceptualism, despite the fact that, initially, it was an art form focused on self-management and the exhibition of its works, among other aspects (
Albarrán 2009, p. 44). The ideas and findings that emerge from our research allow us to delve into the notion that, although the Buades Gallery was undoubtedly a visionary initiative exhibiting certain manifestations of conceptual art, it was also immersed in a fundamental contradiction: its alignment with market trends driven by an emerging bourgeoisie carried the clear risk of neutralising the critical impulses that such art sought to counteract. As we have seen—and as we will examine in greater depth—the gallery did not escape the logic of consolidating an established system, one whose institutionalisation and commodification ultimately absorb practices that were originally intended to subvert it.
6.1. The Buades Gallery in Balance with Conceptualism
Our main hypothesis holds that the assimilation of conceptual art into gallery spaces was a reality, with the Buades Gallery serving as a clear example. In this regard, Simón Marchán confirms the existence of galleries, which he defines as “honourable exceptions,” that facilitated the introduction of conceptualism to a public “not exactly popular, but at least from different disciplines” (
Marchán 2012, p. 288). These “honourable exceptions” emerged in a context of institutional scarcity and were promoted by various actors in the artistic field characterised by a desire for sectorisation. This statement aligns with Marchán’s stance on the market for conceptual art, as he himself approached the dilemma from perspectives related to the social history of art. In an early stage, the author disagreed with the market, stating that it led to the marginalisation of those subversive practices that opposed the art system (ibid.í).
The existence of galleries dedicated to more experimental art marked Marchán’s change in perspective, as he came to recognise the support of the market for contemporary art linked to conceptual logics. Concerning this, in his work Del Arte Objetual al Arte de Concepto [From Object Art to Conceptual Art], the author identifies three types of galleries that emerged in the 1970s, which help us understand how conceptual art was able to develop, be exhibited, disseminated, and even commercialised as it was in the case of the Buades Gallery.
Firstly, according to Marchán, there existed a type of artistic business primarily based on experimental art that barely survived, and in the cases where it did manage to survive, it did so with great difficulty due to the lack of financial support. In this category of gallery, we find those that developed a programme focused on conceptualism or experimental art forms. A second type of gallery sought to find a balance between the heroism and ambiguity of an expanding business, following a methodology centred on the dissemination of experimental art while also aligning itself with art that was easily assimilated by the logics of the market. The third type of gallery, which flourished during the 1970s, was characterised by clear opportunism, abandoning artistic support and dissemination to become little more than a “painting shop” (
Marchán 1994, p. 273).
Within these three typologies, we place the Buades Gallery in the category that sought a balance between art easily assimilated by the market and art with a conceptual and emergent nature. However, the gallery’s commercial orientation was marked by a return to painting in the early 1980s, a period in which Mercedes Buades played a key role thanks to her understanding the affinities of a bourgeoisie eager for modernity and political change; this allows us to observe how the gallery was oriented towards obtaining economic capital while seeking to help emerging art (however, the commercial aspect prevailed above all else). Not surprisingly, in the 1970s Mercedes sought not only to house mainly pictorial works of art, but also to bring together in its space all the practices that had emerged during the decade, continuing the idea of openness to the world embodied by Alberto Corazón in the design of its logo. A symbol that sought to exemplify a future in which all trends would find a place (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 151).
Thus, Buades’ exhibition programme was closely related to artists—including conceptual ones—who moved within her inner circles, which immediately led to a commitment to young art. Likewise, at a time when the lack of a market allowed for work without the attachment to sales, Mercedes unleashed an exhibition creativity that did not initially aim for financial gain. In many cases, and almost during the initial states of the project, the monetary profit depended on factors inherent to a market that was unprecedented in underground art (
Buades and Escribano 2021).
To carry out this balanced approach with conceptualism, characteristic of the early stages of the gallery, Mercedes Buades relied on the special advice of Juan Manuel Bonet. In this way, the gallery was inaugurated with
Presentación de temporada [Season presentation] (1973), an exhibition organised by the art critic that aimed to reflect the role that Buades would play in the artistic ecosystem of Madrid, including conceptual artists. However, conceptual artists presence was limited to documentation owned by Bonet, merely placed on a shelf (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 25).
Similarly, it is significant to observe how the gallery opened a year after the cycle of conferences
Nuevos Comportamientos Artísticos [New Artistic Behaviours] (1974), which would eventually provide the Spanish context with the necessary tools to give conceptual art intellectual support and external projection. It was within the framework of this event that Bonet collaborated on the work
Plaza Mayor, análisis de un espacio [Plaza Mayor, Annalysis of a Apace] (1974) by the conceptual artist Alberto Corazón. This partnership dates to 1973, a year earlier, when Corazón starred in the gallery’s second exhibition. Titled
Documentos [Documents], this one presented the eponymous project begun in 1971, whose main objective was to explore the role of communication and image in conceptual art (see
Figure 2). Artists such as Antoni Muntadas, Francesc Torres, Nacho Criado, Francesc Abad, and Jordi Benito participated in the
Documentos project, which earned them, albeit in a minimal way, their presence in
Presentación de temporada (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 22).
It is well known that the Nuevos Comportamientos Artísticos cycle lacked institutional support. However, Buades constituted the exception that proves the rule by presenting Plaza Mayor, análisis de un espacio in a space that, despite aiming to be a meeting point for the experimental art of the time, was also supported by the neoliberal logics of the market. At the precise moment when this work was exhibited, which would also be part of Nuevos Comportamientos Artísticos, Mercedes Buades joined the group of gallerists interested in conceptual art, alongside names such as Fernando Vijande (Vandrés Gallery) and Tino Calabuig (Redor Gallery). In the words of Corazón, these galleries formed a “meeting point between the interests of conceptual art and the international artists leading trends outside Spain” (ibid., p. 151). From then on, Buades became the other major gallery in Madrid in tune with emerging creation, essential for understanding the advances and fluctuations of 1970s art.
Although Buades’ initial season aimed to build bridges between Catalan and Madrid conceptualism, only Nacho Criado and Alberto Corazón would remain in the project’s programme (ibid., p. 28). The subsequent decision by Bonet to take a stand against Catalan conceptualism is particularly telling. As Juan Albarrán describes: “Despite having supported certain conceptual artists during his time directing the Buades Gallery (1973–1974), he began to show an explicit disdain for Spanish conceptualism, labelling it as “pamphleteering”, “ideological rubbish”, and “sterile sectarianism”” (
Albarrán 2008, p. 175). Similarly, we highlight 1978 as the year when we no longer find exhibitions of conceptual artists at Buades. This moment marks the decline of conceptual art in Spain and its gradual transformation into post-conceptual art, which was, at the very least, a shifting reference to what it had been at the beginning of the decade.
Building on the ideas that have emerged from our analysis, it is crucial to understand that this “club of contemporary art gallerists” should not be interpreted through a sanitized or trivialized lens of the gallerist figure, but quite the opposite: these agents embodied the very tension between the alternative and the institutional. By supporting conceptual art, gallerists were—whether consciously or not—also participating in its commodification, a process that would ultimately dilute its critical potential and contribute to the gradual trivialisation and disappearance of conceptualism. Nevertheless, the dilemma remains: without this commodification, many of these practices might not have survived to the present day. It is precisely here that the interest in focusing on the figure of Mercedes Buades lies. Without the opportunities and commitment, she offered to certain conceptual artists (though not to the entire movement), many significant artistic careers would not have properly accessed the circles of legitimisation. However, that very access entailed the inevitable dilution of their radicalism. The conclusion is clear: one cannot escape the system.
6.2. Conceptual Art Exhibitions at the Buades Gallery, 1973–1978
Although the Buades Gallery was founded in 1973 and continued until 2003, here we focus on a chronological framework between 1973 and 1977. This is a period during which conceptual art in Spain began to be embraced by galleries and institutions. Authors such as Pilar Parcerisas define the conceptual period as spanning from 1971 to 1975, while the post-conceptual period also extends from 1976 to 1980 to her (
Parcerisas 2007, p. 459). As we can see, the Buades Gallery emerged at one of the most productive moments for the movement, becoming a key space for the exhibition and professionalisation of certain conceptual artists, including Nacho Criado, one of the gallery’s most supported artists.
At this point, we would like to highlight the conceptual exhibitions that took place at the gallery, in addition to Propuesta de temporada and Documentos by Alberto Corazón, mentioned in the previous pages. The following shows, short but intense, allowed the Buades Gallery to experiment with the future assimilation of conceptual art from the institutional perspective, which finally took place in Spain at the end of the 1990s and the beginning of the 21st century. In this process, which is not our task here, institutions, the market and gallerists like Mercedes played a crucial role.
1974 was a particularly significant year for conceptualism at the Buades Gallery. Out of thirteen exhibitions, three were linked to conceptual art: from 20 June to 4 July, Nacho Criado presented a series of Super 8 films, in addition to the projects
Lo que no se escucha se oye [What is not Heard is Listened],
Homenaje a Piero Manzoni [Hommage to Piero Manzoni], and
Instrumentos Agresivos [Aggressive Instruments]. From November to December, Eulàlia Grau displayed her series
Etnografía 2 [Ethnography 2] (see
Figure 3), which she had presented a year earlier (1973) at the renowned Sala Vinçon in Barcelona. This interconnection between spaces exemplifies the importance of the bridges built between Madrid and Barcelona (
Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona 2025). The presence of this artist at the gallery, who was involved with the feminist movement, was due to a direct recommendation from Alexandre Cirici Pellicer, an importat art critic related to Spanish conceptualism who had initially tried to have her exhibit at Vandrés: the exhibition took place at Buades, following the suggestion of its director, Fernando Vijande
3 (
Grau 2024).
Buades’ initial support for conceptual art was not limited to exhibitions. That same year, from 11 to 14 May, the gallery screened video art works as part of the
Films Arte [Art Films] cycle. Tino Calabuig, Nacho Criado, and others participated in this event, which explored the significance of video as an artistic language. Emphasising the relevance of video in the gallery context, the exhibition at Buades took place months before the
El vídeo como medio de expresión, comunicación e información [The Video as an Expression Medium Communication and Information] (1974) conference at the Vandrés Gallery. On December 17, continuing with the themes presented at Buades, Alexandre Cirici Pellicer, Alberto Corazón, Simón Marchán, and Antoni Muntadas delivered the lecture at Fernando Vijande’s gallery. The publication resulting from this event includes writings from figures who were also present at Buades, such as Juan Manuel Bonet, Tino Calabuig, and Nacho Criado. This parallelism between events related to video denotes a systematic support network among gallerists united, in this case, to establish video as an artistic language. It is also interesting to note how, despite video being a language with considerable commercial challenges, both actions took place in gallery contexts (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007). Both “honourable exceptions,” as Simón Marchán would say, sought to strike a balance between experimental art and art that would allow them to achieve economic benefits from their activities. Once again, we observe the dilemmas and contradictions of Buades operating within a capitalist context as she took the first steps in commercialising video art: an art form that initially problematised such action.
In 1975, we no longer find significant exhibitions of conceptual artists, giving way to 1976. The first of these, titled
Cultius. Accions 1976 [Crops. Actions 1976], was led by Manel Valls, a conceptual artist and director of the G Gallery in Barcelona. Valls facilitated and consolidated the commercial relationship between Mercedes Buades and the Catalan gallery through a collaborative work between both galleries (
Parcerisas 2007, p. 96).
Continuing with the gallery’s journey through conceptual art, in 1977 we find a certain continuity of the movement in the exhibition context of Buades. Inevitably, this consistency came to an end that same year, when conceptualism was no longer present on the walls of the Claudio Coello space. However, within the framework of the exhibition
Buades. Cuatro años como espacio de expression [Buades. Four Years as an Expression Space], that intended to celebrate the gallery’s four-year anniversary, Nacho Criado ultimately solidified his position as one of the most important conceptual artists for Mercedes and her gallery. Likewise, in addition to organising cycles and round tables, this exhibition showcased Criado’s multiple
Trasvase [Transfer] (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 236).
At the end of the seventies, when Buades programmed several painting exhibitions marking a return to a plastic rhetoric, the newness of 1977 was led by Juan Hidalgo. According to Bonet, both Nacho Criado and Eva Lootz, two of the most promoted experimental artists by Mercedes, shared a close friendship with ZAJ (a conceptual group formed by Juan Hidalgo, Walter Marchetti, and Esther Ferrer), which positively influenced the gallery’s final exhibitions in alignment with conceptualism. This friendship resulted in the sale of Hidalgo’s
Pan [Bread] (see
Figure 4) multiple and ZAJ materials, which were otherwise difficult to access (ibid., p. 37).
Pan was a ZAJ object, one of the highest expressions of conceptual art that sought to escape the phenomenon of the object-fetish. However, its idiosyncrasy is more closely associated with actions and performances related to the concrete and the everyday, rather than with conceptualism per se (
Barber 2019, pp. 173–74). Additionally, from 8 to 9 November of the same year, Juan Hidalgo presented his projects
Viaje a Argel [Trip to Argel] (1967) and
De Juan Hidalgo [From Juan Hidalgo] (1971) in his exhibition
Libros y discos [Books and CDs] at the Buades Gallery.
4In December 1977, extending into January 1978, Nacho Criado held what would be his last exhibition at Buades. During this exhibition, he developed the action Trasvase (1977), which later inspired the multiple that Buades would market and publish. Years later, the artist would continue exploring the theme of glass bottles in various works also titled Trasvase.
As we can see, the market found in these galleries, driven not only by a desire for modernisation but also by the pursuit of an emerging class of collectors drawn to novelty, a fertile ground for sell the material resources of conceptual art and adapting them to its capitalistic logic. By promoting works in the form of multiples, Mercedes Buades discovered an effective means of facilitating the commodification of conceptualism. This created a clear dichotomy. On one hand, the gallery dealt with pieces often regarded as low-cost, which enabled a modest but tangible form of minor collecting. On the other hand, this strategy supported the development of new modes of production and dissemination that, although they weakened the political edge of conceptualism, also helped prevent it from fading away in a context with little institutional support.
In 1977, already well-established in the artistic scene of the time, Buades Gallery, together with the Board of Artistic Heritage, Archives, and Museums (Spanish Ministry of Culture), organised the exhibition entitled
1887-1977/1943-1977 AN by Nacho Criado. Held at the Crystal Palace in Retiro Park, Madrid—decades before this space came under the management of the National Museum and Art Centre Reina Sofía—the exhibition featured the project
Ellos no pueden venir esta noche [They Can’t Come Tonight] (1977). This included the various tributes that Criado made to his reference artists within the gallery context: Rothko at the Sen Gallery (1970), Beuys at the G Gallery (1975), in collaboration with Mercedes Buades, and Manzoni in his first exhibition at Buades (1974) (
Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía 1991, p. 123).
This exhibition reveals the professionalisation that Mercedes Buades achieved in just four years since the opening of her gallery. During this period, she was able to organise highly conceptual art exhibitions in spaces as important and accessible to the public as the Crystal Palace. These exhibitions also contributed to the development and subsequent incorporation of conceptual trends in Spain, being considered, alongside Criado’s participation in the 1978 Venice Biennale, some of the most significant after the decline of conceptualism (dem)íSimilarly, this exhibition was accompanied by various actions: Juan Hidalgo presented
12345678910111213, which was combined with
6 Asimétrico [6 asymmetric] and
Quotidianum by Nacho Criado (
Barber 2019, p. 214). The collaboration between conceptual agents was constant, even in these exhibitions, which, though moving away from the galleries, still involved the participation of gallery figures in their management.
5Finally, although artists such as Adolfo Schlosser or Eva Lootz are more often associated with post-minimalism than conceptual art, their influence and alignment with new artistic behaviours compels us to pay attention to their exhibitions at the Buades Gallery. With respect to this, Albarrán notes that “these new artistic behaviours would continue to develop after Franco’s death, shaping the work of artists such as Jerez, Schlosser, Lootz, Miura, Morquillas, Bados, Garhel, and Corbeira” (
Albarrán 2009, p. 54). Without delving into details that stray from our purpose, when we observe the chronological timeline of the space, we can see how the gallery’s programme shifted from supporting some of the most interesting conceptual artists to gradually discontinuing their exhibitions. The last major exhibition related to this was Esther Ferrer’s in 1985, or the inclusion of conceptual artists (Corazón, Ferrer, Hidalgo, Criado, Eulàlia Grau) in the celebration of the gallery’s thirteenth anniversary. However, through Schlosser and Lootz, the offering of experimental art and new artistic behaviours—rather than conceptualism, we insist—was well represented. Adolfo Schlosser had solo exhibitions in 1977, 1979, 1982, 1987, 1990 and 1993, while Eva Lootz exhibited in 1976, 1979 and 1984 (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, pp. 234–43).
To conclude this point, it is pertinent to remember that here we are conducting a study focused on the social history of art from the perspective of the gallery agent, which makes the issue of the market highly significant. The artist Nacho Criado, in an interview with Rosa Olivares, points out that the issue of conceptual artists and their presence in galleries was not a “problem of oblivion, but of the market” (
Criado 2006, p. 150). And so it was: the market influenced the end of conceptual art, although this topic could be the subject of another article in which the influence of Bonet on the consolidation of painting in the Buades Gallery’s programme would be addressed.
6.3. Madrid-Barcelona, a Bridge Called Buades
One of the great merits of Buades, the subject of this analysis, was her continuation of a narrative closely aligned with conceptual art and her role in establishing a link between the two most important cities in Spain: Madrid and Barcelona. Although the influence of Juan Manuel Bonet inevitably left a deep mark on the gallerist, and despite the fact that he eventually opposed conceptualism (
Albarrán 2008, p. 175), Mercedes Buades persisted in its commitment to conceptual art, not only through the exhibitions analysed in the previous section but also collaborating with the G Gallery in Barcelona. Mercedes, in conversation with the author, points out that “the gallery not only functioned as an exhibition space, but we also sent exhibitions to Barcelona” (
Buades and Escribano 2021).
Buades’ “bridge image” responded to one of the most important premises for Spain at the time: the need to extend the work of new spaces to the country’s main centres, in line with the demands of experimental art. An art capable of establishing new links between the artwork and the viewer, between theorists and audiences, and of giving rise to new forms of artistic production and reception. Although Parcerisas argues that “from 1975 onwards, already immersed in the full post-conceptual period, things changed and the Madrid-Barcelona relationship remained only at a strictly personal level” (
Parcerisas 2007, p. 289), we can identify, thanks to the connections between the G Gallery and the Buades Gallery, interesting cases of professionalism for conceptualism along the Madrid-Barcelona axis.
The G Gallery was another of the gallery spaces dedicated to conceptual art in the Spanish art scene. Owned by Agustí Coll, its first director was the journalist Josep M. Martí Font (from 1975 to 1976), and its second was Manel Valls (from 1976 to 1978), a conceptual artist close to the Buades Gallery (
Parcerisas 1998, p. 7). These three agents developed a gallery model that followed in the footsteps of spaces such as Redor and Buades. Without going into detail, the G Gallery played a key role in the dissemination of conceptual art and the most experimental artistic proposals of the time within the commercial and gallery sector. For this, the collaborative exhibitions between Buades and the G Gallery, a total of three from the official perspective, were of great importance, along with artist exchanges facilitated by the growing professionalisation of conceptual art.
In this context, Nacho Criado exhibited
Prendas de vestir [Clothing], in direct collaboration with the Buades Gallery, from 4 to 13 December 1975. In this case, Juan Manuel Bonet wrote the catalogue text, even though his aversion towards Catalan conceptual artists would soon become evident. This exhibition was conceived as a continuation of the one held at Buades in 1974, for which Bonet also wrote the text alongside Alberto Corazón. It was Nacho Criado’s first solo exhibition in Barcelona, further consolidating the artist’s relationship with the members of the
Documentos project.
6In
Prendas de vestir (1975), Criado presented a section of the project
Ellos no pueden venir esta noche, which, as noted above, would be exhibited two years later at the Crystal Palace (Madrid) in collaboration with the Buades Gallery (1977). This project brought together a series of works that interconnected several galleries across Spain, including Buades and the G Gallery. In 1970, the hommage to Rothko at the Sen Gallery is considered the first installation created in a Spanish gallery; in 1973, at Buades, Criado presented
the Homenaje a Duchamp [Homage to Duchamp]; in 1974, the
Homenaje a Manzoni [Homage to Manzoni] at the same gallery; and that same year, the
Homenaje a Beuys [Homage to Beuys] at the G Gallery (
Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía 1991, pp. 119–20).
The next collaborative exhibition took place from 21 December to 10 January 1977 in Madrid, at Mercedes’ space. It was Andy Warhol’s exhibition, which grew out of the organisation of Eva Lootz’s exhibition in Barcelona the following month.
7 As Mercedes Buades points out: “The Warhol exhibition was born out of our collaboration with the G Gallery in Barcelona, with whom we regularly cooperated. During the organisation of a joint exhibition of Eva Lootz, I noticed they had a large collection of graphic works acquired in New York, ranging from Pop art to Richard Serra” (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 116). The G Gallery worked with Warhol’s artist proofs, which Josep M. Martí, the first director of the G Gallery, had acquired in New York directly from Andy Warhol’s bankrupt publisher. In an interview with the Museum of Contemporary Art of Barcelona (MACBA), Martí explains how the acquisition was due to the seller’s financial need, which led to multiple exhibitions in Madrid and Barcelona (
Martí Font 2013).
The final joint exhibition between Buades and G Gallery featured the work of Eva Lootz. Although, as previously discussed, she was not an artist fully aligned with conceptualism per se, her connection to the new trends makes her indispensable in this essay. From 22 February to 18 March 1977, Lootz exhibited pieces that are now included in key collections like MACBA’s. However, despite the exhibition in the Catalan capital, Lootz’s connection to Barcelona was rather slow, as her next show in the city would not be until 1986, nine years after the exhibition in collaboration with Buades and the G Gallery. She exhibited her works at the Espai 13 of the Joan Miró Foundation; by then, conceptualism was being assimilated by the cultural institutions of a Spain consolidating its democracy with the election of the Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party to the presidency of the government (
Parcerisas 2007, p. 98). Also, although the G Gallery had its graphic design established, created by the artist América Sánchez, Lootz’s catalogue at the G Gallery was edited, designed, and distributed by Buades, reflecting the professionalisation and attention to detail that Mercedes Buades showed towards her represented artists.
Beyond the collaborative exhibitions, there were artists from the G Gallery’s programme who were also present at Mercedes’ space. Most likely, this migration of artists was due to the imminent closure of the Barcelona gallery, which, in January 1978, would shut its doors due to economic unprofitability. For example, in October 1976, Valls, not as the director of the G Gallery but as an artist, exhibited his solo show
Cultius at Buades, which included “photographs, slides, drawings, and a portfolio with two poems by Joan Brossa” (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 234). This exhibition was based on a series of six outdoor actions that Valls carried out, drawing inspiration from certain ritual practices (
Parcerisas 2007, p. 97). On the other hand, the abstract painter Manuel Salinas would exhibit at the G Gallery in 1977 after having first shown his work at Buades, as was the case with Fernando Megías.
An interesting observation emerges from this research: the non-trivial fact that gallery owners shared represented artists and exhibitions reinforces the idea of a strong distribution network aimed at supporting the emerging experimentation during the seventies. Moreover, these collaborations were not limited to Spain, but in the case of Buades, they sought to expand beyond the Spanish art scene. During a trip in the 1980s, with the clear goal of bridging Spain and the international market, Mercedes Buades and Chiqui Abril met with one of the most important gallerists of the 20th century: Leo Castelli. The dealer proposed holding an exhibition of Joseph Kosuth at the Buades Gallery without any financial conditions; however, the offer was declined due to a lack of foresight regarding the sales potential of a foreign conceptual artist (
Museo Patio Herreriano 2007, p. 111). In the 1990s, Josep Kosuth finally exhibited in Madrid in the Juana de Aizpuru Gallery.
7. Conclusion(s): A Tube of Oil Paint Made for Painting
This analysis of the Buades Gallery, centred on the key role of its director, Mercedes Buades, has allowed us to draw a series of conclusions which—though significant—are not definitive regarding the synergies between Spanish conceptualism and the art market. This open-ended reflection—invoking the metaphorical oil tube that gives this article its title—invites further exploration of the hypotheses proposed in the doctoral thesis from which this essay originates.
Throughout this study, several key factors have been identified to better understand the gallery’s role within the context of conceptual art. Mercedes Buades, who was awarded the Gold Medal of Merit in the Fine Arts by the Spanish Ministry of Culture in 2002, played a crucial role not only in the development and professionalisation of conceptualism but also in legitimising the artistic field in a Spain undergoing profound political and cultural transformation after and during the Franco regime.
To meet its objectives, this research focused on the period between 1973 and 1978, when conceptual art required legitimisation within the Spanish gallery system. This period underscores the scarcity of exhibition infrastructure at the end of the dictatorship, a gap that fostered the emergence of new networks in which galleries played a central role in showcasing emerging practices. Within this framework, the Buades Gallery—alongside other projects that appeared during the 1970s “gallery boom”—became a crucial space for articulating an ecosystem for contemporary art. This study highlights the importance of galleries and their owners, offering a new dimension to debates on the professionalisation, legitimisation, and dissemination of conceptualism in Spain. It confirms the initial hypotheses by positioning Mercedes Buades as a relevant figure in the integration of emerging art into the system, especially in the Madrid art scene, through the perspectives of art sociology and social art history.
Although the Buades Gallery serves as a paradigmatic example of the consolidation of the female figure in Madrid’s art scene and the promotion of emerging art, it also worked as a commercial enterprise. This dual identity was crucial in adapting conceptual art to market dynamics, a central point of this conclusion. Artists such as Nacho Criado, Alberto Corazón, Eulàlia, and members of ZAJ (Esther Ferrer, Juan Hidalgo, Walter Marchetti), despite their utopian approaches to artmaking and resistance to commercialisation, found in Buades a platform for their projects. This adaptation included strategies like the production of multiples to facilitate circulation and sales. Thus, the gallery became essential to the professionalisation of Madrid’s conceptualism, a movement marked not only by dematerialisation but also by strong political engagement during Spain’s democratic transition.
Buades struck a balance between artistic experimentation and economic viability, a strategy particularly evident in its later support of painting in the 1980s. Thanks to this vision and sustained support of conceptual (and non-conceptual) artists, Mercedes Buades built a network of collaborations extending beyond the gallery into emerging public institutions. In cooperation with the Board of Artistic Heritage, Archives, and Museums of the Spanish Ministry of Culture, she promoted exhibitions by artists such as Nacho Criado, expanding the presence of conceptual art in public spaces. This network, including galleries like G in Barcelona, also established a circulation axis between Madrid and Barcelona at a time when, according to art historiography, the relationship between conceptualism and galleries had begun to weaken—especially after 1975.
Finally, Buades’ work was crucial in legitimising experimental art within the market system, contributing to the consolidation of Spain’s artistic field amid social and cultural change. While future studies might examine the gallery’s later turn toward painting and the decline of conceptualism in the late 1980s, it is worth noting that Buades gradually reduced its commitment to experimental practices, mirroring broader institutional shifts. Painting—metaphorically captured in the gallery’s logo by Alberto Corazón as an oil tube open to the world—eventually supplanted conceptualism, which, once “squeezed dry,” gave way to a market increasingly focused on the artwork as commodity. Thus, the very gallery that had championed conceptualism in the 1970s became both witness to and agent of its decline amid shifting market forces.