Known for her immersive installations built from colorful painted textiles and ritual objects, she explores new realms of spirituality, care, and the healing power of art. One highlight was her Hygiea’s Cave: Temple of Collective Regeneration at the Bochum Art Museum this March—a 130 square meter space for collective self-care, meditation, and connection. Irene’s art is playful yet deeply personal, inspired by grief, movement, and her fascination with blue, inviting you to reconnect, reflect, and find joy in the present moment.
I’ve been drawing since I was a kid. I planned to study art at university but chose journalism, thinking it might be more financially stable. At 18, I left my hometown for Germany, only to realize my Spanish journalism degree was useless there. So, I returned to drawing, studying visual communication and design. After an Erasmus stint in Portugal, I switched to Art and later traveled to Brazil to research spirituality in art.
I think I must have been a tree in Brazil in a past life; I’ve been drawn to it since I was a teenager. I collected Brazilian vinyls and always dreamed of visiting. When I turned 30, my friends helped make that dream a reality, gifting me funds for the trip. In 2018, I spent three or four months there.
That same year, I began exploring installation art after losing one of my best friends. It was a turning point where my life and art became inseparable. I created altars for her and for myself. My spirituality—once borrowed from Catholicism, yogic practices, and Brazilian traditions—became more personal and rooted. Now, art is my sanctuary, my spirituality, and a deeply personal, yet intense, part of my life.
Irene Fernández Arcas
Art-making and experiencing art can be incredibly healing, but creativity isn’t limited to artists. It’s in the way you brush your teeth, cook, or approach life with a positive spirit. Keeping creativity alive improves our quality of life, but we often forget it, held back by self-doubt. In my workshops, I encourage people to let go of that fear—if you have a hand, you can draw; if you have a voice, you can sing. Drawing is healing and liberating, but any act of creativity, even reconnecting with your body, is a powerful source of wellness.
We live too fast, consuming everything—including art—at a rushed pace. My installations are designed to slow people down, offering moments of rest and reconnection with themselves. My first one in 2019 invited people to enter, even lie down, to experience art at their own pace.
Europe lacks spaces of regeneration, like ancient Greek healing temples. Inspired by that, I created Hygeia’s Cave, a collective nap space for 50 people, filled with a kilometer of painted textiles, pillows, soundscapes, and projections. We ended with a 12-hour performance of breathing, resting, spontaneous art, and conversation. Spending a full day surrounded by blue, I understood the healing power of color.
Kids and elders seemed to understand my art intuitively, which makes me happy. Though my work is backed by research and theory, I aim for it to be playful and accessible—because art shouldn’t be elitist.
During my studies, I worked at lot with cyanotype, a form of photography developed using sunlight. Being a synesthete, I experience colors emotionally, and blue became an obsession—a powerful, healing, and nostalgic shade connected to home, the ocean, and the sky. Over time, it became my signature, something people now associate with me. Bluets by Maggie Nelson deeply resonated with me; she describes blue as an intuitive, almost inexplicable love. To me, blue is also a feminine color, tied to goddesses and the queens of ancient Egypt.
I often wear blue from head to toe, and it’s amazing how something so simple can make people happy—I get so many compliments at the Turkish market. Some art feels intimidating, but I prefer work that inspires and feels approachable. I want my art to give off that same energy, encouraging others to think, “This is cool, I could try that too.”
The process of making art is meditative, and I try to share that experience through my installations. As I mentioned before, there came a point when my art and life became inseparable, and I need meditation to stay balanced. I’m a huge enthusiast—when I love something, I want everyone to try it. Last year, I created a piece titled Exploring Care in Public Spaces at Kottbusser Tor station in Berlin: a meditation for the train. Big billboards with QR codes led to a 25-minute meditation, translated into 10 languages. It’s still online, and the idea is to use daily moments, like a metro ride, to reconnect with yourself instead of spiraling into negative thoughts.
It was a visualization for your inner forest, which later evolved into an inner oceanic forest. The idea was to create an artwork in people’s minds—a mental space of regeneration. This concept came to me before Bochum, before I even knew what direction I wanted to take. Years ago, a creative feminist writing workshop in Berlin, inspired by Virginia Woolf's A Room of One’s Own, introduced the idea of a personal mental sanctuary, a retreat you can always visit. My work has continually explored this theme, from Inner Jungle and Inner Forest at Galerie Wedding to the more recent Inner Oceanic Forest.
Irene Fernández Arcas
I wish I had a set routine, but I do follow some key practices. In the morning, I wash my face, brush my teeth, and practice gratitude. Then I do breathwork, meditation, or sometimes yoga, ranging from 10 minutes to two hours. I’m training in Pranayama breathwork, so I practice almost daily. I put on music, turn on my sun lamp, and journal with a specially made coffee—coffee is a ritual for me. Only then do I turn on my phone to limit screen time. I also stay active with sports and sauna sessions with friends, and I work on making space to just do nothing, which is still a challenge.
Blue! I once acted in a friend’s movie, where she asked us to play ourselves—her strength as a filmmaker. I showed up at the hotel with three suitcases packed with blue stuff. First thing, I played ocean sounds and filled the room with blue, instantly happy.
I also have a thing for hotel rooms; the residencies I’ve done have been amazing. And libraries? I only pull out blue books, and people definitely think I’m a little crazy!
Pick up a blue book from ’She Said’, a space spotlighting queer and female authors—grab a coffee while you’re there.
Take your new read to a sauna. It’s a perfect way to unwind and dive into authors like Octavia Butler or Fernanda Melchor.
Go on a gallery tour! Check out Galerie Thomas Schulte, PSM Gallery, and don’t miss my group show, ’Historical Children: Lullabies from Wounds to Wonder’ at Savvy Contemporary, complete with linked activities.
Blue temple images Sebastian Eggler and Daniel Sadrowski
Portrait images Sven Serkis and Juan Saez