10 Questions with Ellen De

Ellen De is a visual artist who uses photography as her primary medium to explore the intersections of architecture, abstraction, and social critique. Her work reimagines brutalist structures as sculptural forms, detaching them from their historical and ideological contexts. By emphasizing form over function, light and shadow over utility, and fragmentary perspectives over complete depictions, Ellen's photographs transform iconic architectural symbols into evocative remnants of unrealized utopias.

Based in Barcelona, Ellen's artistic practice is shaped by her background in wood sculpture and audiovisual post-production, as well as her deep engagement with the conceptual potential of photography. Her images present a dystopian perspective on contemporary life, critiquing alienation, surveillance, and the erosion of revolutionary ideals under late capitalism.

Ellen De's work has been exhibited internationally in cities like New York, Tokyo, Brussels, and Berlin, as well as on online platforms such as the Metaverse. Key exhibitions include NFT NYC, Art Basel Miami, and Superchief Gallery. Her photography has been featured in publications like Futuro, Industrial Complexx, and Conceptual Photography.

Currently, Ellen is curating the upcoming issue of The Laboratory Art Magazine, further exploring the interplay between art, architecture, and society through her distinctive visual language.

www.ellen-de.com | @de_ellende

NEO.BRUTALISM | Project Description

Ellen De's photographs do not depict urban or industrial landscapes but reflect a social state of mind. The artist abstracts architectural elements, presenting brutalist forms as sculptural pieces. These structures, iconic symbols of utopian ideals, are transformed into isolated shapes in space, where form takes precedence over meaning. Straight and curved lines, light, shadow, and chiaroscuro emphasize formal qualities over utilitarian ones. The incomplete outlines, serial compositions, mechanical rhythms, and unexpected perspectives evoke alienation and an oniric distortion, balancing between dream and nightmare.

By removing context, Ellen De isolates architecture from its historical and geographical framework, stripping away narratives and ideologies. What remains is the contemporary degradation of these constructions—relics of integrity and hope reduced to rubble. The utopian programs that birthed them dissolve into mere specters of a future that never arrived.

Dystopias magnify societal fears and challenge us to reflect on our realities. Ellen De's images offer a dystopian critique of the present: the alienation of modern life, the city as a surveillance device, and the erosion of revolutionary ideals in late capitalism. Her work highlights the decay of past ambitions, urging us to question how we live and how we wish not to live.

INTERVIEW

Please introduce yourself to our readers. How did you first become interested in art, and when did you decide to pursue it as a career?

Hi, I'm Ellen De. I like to think of myself as someone often caught daydreaming, living in what feels like an old black-and-white movie. Creativity has always been my most natural way of self-expression—words and languages often feel limiting.
I wouldn't say I pursue/pursued art as a career; it's more of a necessity for me—like the air I breathe. Art isn't just something I do; it's my world.

Photography is your primary medium. What initially drew you to it, and what does it represent for you personally and artistically?

Photography is indeed my primary medium now, but the path to get here has been quite a journey. I come from a background in sculpture studies at 'La Llotja,' and over the years, I explored various mediums—collage, sculpture, mixed media—anything that allowed me to work with my hands, something I've loved since childhood.
Initially, I saw photography as a 'lazy medium.' During my teenage years, I renounced digital arts entirely, drawn instead to the physicality and tactile nature of creation. But when I started traveling, everything changed. I couldn't carry my materials or paint as freely, yet the urge to create followed me everywhere. Those times when I couldn't express myself felt tormenting, so I turned to photography out of necessity.
In the beginning, I still resisted digital post-editing. Instead, I relied on my camera settings to achieve the dreamy effects and atmospheric scenes I envisioned. Over time, photography became more than a practical solution—it evolved into a deeply personal and artistic language. It represents my adaptability, my need to create in any situation, and my constant pursuit of capturing the feelings and ideas that shape my world.
Today, photography has become the most natural medium for me to express myself. It allows me to present my reality with clarity and authenticity. In many ways, I've become photography itself—I often find myself mentally composing and framing the world around me without even realizing it. When I press the shutter, it's an act of pure intuition, very primitive, free from overthinking, free of rigid composition rules. It's a spontaneous dialogue between myself and the moment, capturing something that feels deeply true to me.

Your artistic journey has encompassed wood sculpture, audiovisual post-production, and photography. How have these disciplines influenced your approach to art-making?

My artistic journey has woven through a variety of disciplines—wood sculpture, audiovisual post-production, and photography—each contributing to my evolving perspective on art. These experiences have shaped the way I see and create, adding layers to my work. Sculpture taught me to think about form, texture, and space in a tactile, physical way, while audiovisual post-production opened my eyes to the power of movement and sound in conveying emotion and narrative. Photography gave me the ability to capture moments, freeze time, and explore the fleeting nature of existence.
Together, these disciplines have deepened my self-expression through art. They've allowed me to work from multiple angles, creating work that reflects a blend of technical precision and emotional resonance. My approach to art-making is ever-evolving, constantly influenced by the tools I use and the perspectives I gain along the way

Speaking of your work, what is your creative process like? Where do you draw inspiration from, and how do you translate those ideas into the final outcome?

I draw inspiration from pretty much everything around me—my surroundings, people, music, cinema, and art. I feel like a sponge, constantly absorbing ideas. I'm particularly inspired by the evolution of our world: the way' traditions and the past' coexist—sometimes harmoniously, sometimes in conflict—with 'progress and the present.'
My creative process is rooted in my upbringing. During my childhood and youth, I was frequently surrounded by photographers like Maysun, César Lucas, and Guille Valle, whose perspectives undoubtedly influenced my path as an artist.
For the "NEO.BRUTALISM" series, the process begins long before the moment I take the photographs. It starts with extensive research into Brutalist, Soviet modernist, and utilitarian architecture, as well as abandoned and decayed buildings. This research is ongoing—it can take days, weeks, or even months, as I'm always seeking new locations and inspiration.
Once I've identified potential sites, I create detailed maps to catalog and organize these locations, which are often scattered across different countries and continents. Traveling is an integral part of my process. It not only allows me to scout these buildings but also gives me context about the structures I aim to capture. Immersing myself in the local culture—often by learning the language—helps me understand the people, their history, and their perspective on life. This deeper understanding enriches the narratives I seek to convey through my photographs.
Every journey is a huge adventure, often taking me to remote and sometimes dangerous places. I'm never sure what I'll find, in what condition the object of my representation will be—or even if it will still exist. These uncertainties push me to adapt to the weather, light conditions, and unexpected challenges. Most of the time, I'll never get the exact picture I initially envisioned, which forces me to find creative solutions to achieve a result that can satisfy me.
Another major challenge is the limitation of not always being able to travel. In those moments, I turn to introspection, using the time to write down ideas, projects, and concepts. These reflective periods are essential to my process, allowing me to deepen my connection to the themes I explore and refine my artistic vision."

Your work often explores Brutalism, a style with a polarizing reputation. What attracted you to this architectural form, and how do you interpret its utopian ideals?

My attraction to Brutalism is based on a mix of factors. The rawness of the materials—the cold, unyielding concrete—and the stark, unapologetic simplicity of the shapes speak to me. These qualities reflect parts of my own character, embodying a raw honesty that resonates deeply. Brutalism isn't about beauty in the traditional sense; it's about confronting the viewer with a sense of scale and fragility. Its towering structures make you feel small and vulnerable—reminding you of the brutal truth in both their form and the ideals they once carried.
I'm fascinated by the intense polarization that surrounds these buildings. People either love them or hate them, and I'm drawn to that divide. Brutalism provokes dialogue and sparks heated reactions, leaving no room for indifference.
I find beauty in what others might dismiss as 'ugly.' The polished, aesthetically pleasing holds no allure for me—empty beauty leaves me unmoved. It's the neglected, the scarred, the imperfect that truly inspire me. I see beauty in flaws, in the weight of history. I don't seek perfection; I seek genuineness. Real stories, not idealized ones, are what speak to me.
There's also a historical weight to these. They're relics of a time filled with ideals and hope for the future, now reduced to rubble—specters of a world that once dreamed big. Beyond that, there's something otherworldly about them, as if they belong to a reality outside of our own, haunting our present with echoes of another time and place.

In your project Neo Brutalism, you transform architectural forms into sculptural abstractions, removing them from their historical and geographical context. What message or experience do you hope viewers take from this act of deconstruction?

In Neo Brutalism, I tear apart architectural forms, stripping them of their historical and geographical significance and transforming them into raw sculptural abstractions. My work portrays a grey, dystopian landscape where late capitalism has spiraled into totalitarianism. The city emerges as a cold, oppressive surveillance device fostering the illusion of freedom while binding us deeper into slavery—drowning us in delusion and denial. I don't sugarcoat these truths; I present them and challenge the viewer to confront the uncomfortable complexities and contradictions of the postmodern world, to face the reality we've built and the freedom we've lost.

You mention dystopias as a lens to critique the present in your artist statement. How does Neo Brutalism reflect societal fears and the erosion of revolutionary ideals?

In Neo Brutalism, dystopias serve as a mirror to our fears—a reflection of a society where the revolutionary ideals of the past have crumbled under the weight of late capitalism. Brutalist architecture once stood as a bold symbol of progress and egalitarianism, embodying the utopian dream of creating spaces for all. But today, those ideals feel hollow, their remnants scattered like rubble amidst a world that's become increasingly controlled, surveilled, and more connected than ever but paradoxically disconnected.
Urging the viewer to question what we've built, at what cost and what we've lost. The series critiques the erosion of collective hope and the grim realities of a world where dreams of equality and liberation have given way to surveillance, alienation, and submission. I don't pretend to provide answers offering neatly packaged conclusions but to provoke thought, to make people see the cracks in the façade of the world and society we inhabit.

In your view, what role does art play in addressing such themes? Can art serve as a tool to spread revolutionary ideas and inspire meaningful change?

Art, in my opinion, is one of the most powerful revolutionary instruments. History proves its potential—consider propaganda, for example, which has played a critical role in spreading various ideologies throughout time. But for me, art does more than just comment on societal issues; it confronts them head-on. It has the power to plant the seeds of non-conformism —not in the sense of immediate upheaval but as a catalyst for long-term change in perceptions, values, and actions. Art disrupts complacency, forcing us to ask difficult questions. It has always served as a tool to expose controversies and deliver transgressive messages that challenge the norms. By pushing boundaries and confronting uncomfortable truths, art becomes a vehicle for transformation, inspiring us to reconsider our role within the system.

You've exhibited internationally in both physical spaces and the Metaverse. How do these different platforms shape the way your work is experienced and interpreted?

I don't believe that the platform itself can alter the core of how my work is perceived, as the message remains consistent.While the setting might influence the environment, the essence of my work remains intact. I focus on creating a direct dialogue with the viewer, and the interpretation of the work relies on its content, not necessarily the space it occupies. For me, the impact comes from the ideas presented, not the platform they are displayed on.

Lastly, what's next for your artistic practice? Are there any new themes, mediums, or projects you're excited to explore in the future?

In the near future, I'm planning to delve deeper into personal narratives within my work. My previous pieces have mainly avoided featuring human subjects, but now I feel it's time for a shift. I want to take a more photojournalistic approach, capturing raw, authentic moments that reflect real, intimate, and complex stories. This shift allows me to step outside of my niche while still remaining true to my artistic style, and it offers me the chance to experiment with new ways of expression.
In addition, I'm ready to break free from the limitations of monochrome and embrace a world defined by color. This new phase is about bringing vibrancy into my work and exploring the full emotional and narrative spectrum that color can unlock.
I'm excited to challenge myself by changing both my subjects of representation and my use of color, pushing my practice into new, uncharted territories.

Artist’s Talk

Al-Tiba9 Interviews is a promotional platform for artists to articulate their vision and engage them with our diverse readership through a published art dialogue. The artists are interviewed by Mohamed Benhadj, the founder & curator of Al-Tiba9, to highlight their artistic careers and introduce them to the international contemporary art scene across our vast network of museums, galleries, art professionals, art dealers, collectors, and art lovers across the globe.