Pablo Benzo

Meet The Artist:

3 July 2026

Meet The Artist:

Pablo Benzo

3 July 2026

Q: You started on the streets doing graffiti, then spent years as a graphic designer and art director. At what point did painting feel like the only honest thing left to do?

A: I actually started drawing and painting long before graffiti, that came later, as a teenager, more as a social thing. Some kids skateboarded, some got into music, we painted. That's just how it worked back then, hanging out, moving across the city together.

Later I studied graphic design, mostly because I didn't see a clear way to make a living from painting alone. So design became the thing that supported the painting. At some point I grew disappointed with the dynamics of that world, bosses, clients, having to defend every decision I made. As a graphic designer and art director, that wears you down in a very specific way.

So I started removing myself from that equation, little by little, and let painting take up more space. I knew a major change was coming, but I didn't have a clear plan. I just started reaching out to people in the art world, talking about my growing desire of becoming a painter, going to openings, artists studios, building connections. That's how Berlin happened.

Q: You build your paintings in multiple layers over time, what is underneath that nobody ever sees? Walk us through your technique.

A: It's not always the same process, I don't paint every painting the same way. Lately I've been working with grisaille for example, but mostly I would start drawing directly with a very light-color drawing so I don't run into problems covering it later. My paintings tend to have many layers, but very thin ones. I use cloths to wipe away excess paint in some areas, leaving just a subtle trace of tone. I like combining segments that have almost no color at all with others that are thick and built-up, it's like using more or fewer words to say things, depending on what the painting needs.

I think of the layers as having different readings, not just literal layers of paint stacked on top of each other, but a record of how the ideas themselves built up.

"Every day you're working on the same canvas, you're a little different too, what you're thinking about, what you're noticing, and that gets reflected in how each layer goes down. It can get very complex, because the painting is holding all of that, even if it's not visible."

Q: Which artist has influenced and informed your vision the most?

A: Picasso, honestly, even if that feels like an obvious or almost boring answer to give. But I think different artists feed you at different points in your life, depending on what you're thinking about at that moment. I have many artists I consider a sort of confidants, in a way. Many painters who've helped me carry out this life, this way of living as an artist. Some of them I love just for how they speak, how they write about their own work. I read their letters, their stories, and I often feel connected to them through what they lived, not only through what they painted.

Matisse, Cézanne, Bonnard, Vuillard, Freud, Bacon, Giorgione: these are names I return to. I also admire many of my contemporaries, but in a different way, more as company than as influence. From all of these artists I take very specific elements, some (perhaps) show up clearly in the work, others are buried in there somewhere, maybe not even recognizable.

Q: You came to Berlin and stayed. What does the city give artists that other cities don't, and what is it still missing?

A: I can really only speak from my own experience. Compared to Santiago, here I have access to incredible shows and collections, and it's easy to move around Europe, over the years living here. I've had the chance to see so much. I love this city as well because, to me, it's a city with multiple personalities.

But I'm careful with the question itself, you'd need to actually live in other cities to really say what they can or can't give you that Berlin doesn't. Every city has its own style, its own rhythm, and I think that's the beauty of it. What I can say is simpler: I like being here, and I miss it when I'm away. That's not nothing.

What's still missing, I think, is real institutional support, opportunities to show in the city's major museums, real visibility within Berlin's own established institutions, not just the gallery and project-space circuit. Berlin gives you space and freedom, but it doesn't always translate that into recognition at home. And on a more personal note, I do miss the warmth of people who grew up in cities with good weather and good food. I miss good tomatoes, palta, completos, Chilean wine. But that one's just me.

Q: Which places in Berlin do you keep returning to?

A: I live in Neukölln, and the area gives me a lot. In the mornings I run at Tempelhofer Feld with my dog. — it's one of those places that never gets old. I love walking along the canal through Maybachufer and staying in Körnerpark. is somewhere I keep returning to. For museums, the Berggruen is one of my favorites, though it's closed for renovations right now, and the Alte and Neue Nationalgalerie are essential to me. The Barberini is wonderful too.

There are a couple of bars on Weserstrasse I go back to for the music, and a couple more on Richardstrasse; not for music, but because they're just beautiful spaces. And since I moved my studio to Mitte, I've been discovering more and more corners of that part of the city.

Actually, answering this question made me realize something, I do go back to the same places, not that many of them. I don't have so much time to go exploring, and honestly I'm a creature of habit. When it's not about nature in the city, the park, the canal, the open air, I go to the same bars and restaurants, and I love that. I love saying hi to the people who work there, the familiarity of it. I like it like that.