dialogue
Cayetano Sanz de Santamaría | Artist
April 2025
8 min read
Cayetano Sanz de Santamaría works from instinct, memory, and technical skill. His practice spans drawing, etching, and painting, guided by a sensitivity to storytelling that is as intuitive as it is intentional. The characters that emerge from his lines, sometimes tender, sometimes uncanny, echo the mythologies of his Colombian heritage while drifting into more personal terrains.
In this dialogue, Cayetano reflects on studio rituals, music, unfinished works, and the quiet ways his homeland continues to shape his practice. His approach favours patience over perfection, trusting unresolved images to hold meaning with time. Drawing remains his clearest language, a space for improvisation and introspection.
There is a patience to Cayetano’s approach, an embrace of trial, error, and the slow reveal. He speaks of drawing as his truest language, a space where ideas arrive unfiltered and where narrative begins without needing to declare itself. Rather than discarding what feels unresolved, he stores these works like time capsules, trusting that meaning often arrives later. His practice is as much about building images as it is about preserving states of mind, traces of thought, feeling, and place, held gently in line.
Colombia is ever-present in his work, not as a subject to define, but as a spirit woven through it. In borrowed symbols and imagined beings, Cayetano offers glimpses of its soul to those who pause long enough to see.
Photo courtesy of Cayetano Sanz de Santamaría.
Hey Cayetano! Etching is a significant part of your practice. What draws you to this medium, and how does it complement your storytelling?
“Etching is an ancient technique practiced by many great masters I deeply admire. One of my favourite bodies of work is “Los Caprichos” by Goya—a series of etchings that capture and mock the era he lived in. Another artist I admire is Paula Rego, whose etchings carry a sense of playfulness and childlike fantasy. Both artists used etching as an expressive tool, a way to explore different narratives and emotions in a more relaxed manner.
Sometimes the process of planning an oil painting can feel heavy—there’s a lot of pressure to define everything beforehand. But with etching, or even just drawing, there's more freedom to explore ideas as they come. In my case, I can create more and at the same time be playful, connecting to my inner child. There's also something exciting about creating a work that can be reproduced in a limited edition, it holds a different kind of energy.
For me, etching opened that door. But more than the technique itself, it’s the concept of the line and how powerful it becomes when used with intention. Drawing is the purest form of expression for me. It’s where I improvise best, and where the foundation of any concept or body of work begins.”
Cayetano Sanz de Santamaría, Un Domingo Cualquiera/ Any Given Sunday, Oil on linen, 150 x 300 cm, 2024.
How do you decide which medium, drawing, painting, or etching, is best suited for a particular concept or narrative?
“I start every painting with a sketch, which I then develop into a drawing. If the drawing resonates enough, it might evolve into a painting. Drawing always comes first, I’m a draftsman at heart.
The real decision comes with painting. If I want to create a large, humorous, or more spontaneous body of work, I’ll usually stick to drawing or etching. But when the ideas are more profound or carry a sense of grandeur, I save them for oil painting.”
Cayetano Sanz de Santamaría, Portrait of a Conversation with Camila (Detail), Oil on linen, 150 x 200 cm, 2024.
You mentioned that you don't discard or paint over your works, even those you're dissatisfied with. Could you elaborate on why?
“Every piece I create takes time and dedication. In the moment of making it, there's always a part of me that loves it, I'm projecting a piece of my soul into that work. Even if I dislike it afterward, it becomes a kind of time capsule, capturing who I was, what I was thinking or feeling at that specific moment. I think that’s important to preserve.
Sometimes, those “failed” pieces become useful later, they might reveal a solution when I’m stuck or serve as a reminder of what not to do. The best approach for me is to store them away and revisit them months or years later, or give them to my mom, who proudly hangs them alongside the ones I made her as a toddler. She sees the soul in them, even if I can’t always.”
Photo courtesy of Cayetano Sanz de Santamaría.
Music plays a role in your studio environment. What genres or artists do you find most inspiring while working?
“Mainly classic rock, from the late ’60s to the early 2000s, in English, Spanish, and Italian.
Some of my favorites are Dire Straits, The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Pink Floyd, Joaquín Sabina, Charly García, Vasco Rossi, and Lucio Dalla, among many others. I even have a playlist on Spotify called cashesgroove. Give it a listen if you’re curious.”
Cayetano Sanz de Santamaría, Study of My Own Demise, Oil on canvas, 60 x 50 cm (each panel), 2025.
Can you discuss the impact of collaborating with fellow artists during your studies on your creative process?
“There’s a huge benefit to sharing a studio with like-minded people who have similar goals and concerns. It makes you feel like you're all in the same boat, especially when the outside world feels chaotic. That sense of community is crucial, especially for a young artist still learning to navigate the art world.
In my case, my studio mates and I often turn to each other for advice when we’re stuck. I can go through 10, 15, even 20 sketches before settling on a composition, so having their input is priceless. And sometimes, it’s just about decompressing after a long day—cracking a beer open and joking about life.
That said, I’ve learned the importance of collaborating with a select few. Too many opinions can muddy the waters. I make sure to work with people whose perspectives I genuinely trust.”
Cayetano Sanz de Santamaría, A Corner of Lost Intellect, Oil on linen, 150 x 115cm, 2025.
Your characters often seem to exist in a space between reality and fantasy. How do you develop their forms and personalities?
“Most of them are explorations of the mind and soul. I believe the spirit naturally drifts between reality and fantasy. Many of my characters are inspired by folklore—especially Colombian, and mythology. These are age-old tools we’ve used to understand the world around us.
I'm fascinated by the natural world. Studying animal species, giving them personalities, and turning them into allegorical characters is one of the most rewarding parts of my practice. It connects me to an ancient way of seeing—how our ancestors made sense of life by spiritually linking with animals and plants. They built their symbolic languages that I try to continue in my way.
So when I create these creatures, I see myself as carrying forward that tradition—storytelling through myth, allegory, and imagination.”
You've expressed a desire to be a voice for Colombia through your art. How do you navigate representing your country through your work?
“Colombia is incredibly rich in history and culture. We carry Indigenous, African, and European heritage since colonial times, and even before that, the pre-Columbian knowledge here is vast, wise, and full of mysteries to be uncovered. Beyond that, it’s simply a magnificent place, vibrant people, stunning and unique biodiversity, and a spirit that’s hard to put into words.
It’s also a country that has endured a lot of suffering—from colonialism to the armed conflict and the drug wars. There’s a significant wealth gap, but despite all of that, it remains a place full of beauty, resilience, and deep humanity.
Having lived outside of Colombia for over eight years, I find myself constantly bringing its charm and magic into my work. It’s my way of carrying a piece of home with me and sharing its complexity, beauty, and soul with others.”
Comments