Raphael Fonseca’s “Estalo” at the Mercosul Biennial

Gabriela Valdanha
Feb 07, 2025
Above: Curator Raphael Fonseca signs the 14th edition of the Mercosul Biennial. Photo: Thiele Elissa
Snap your fingers. The sound echoes through time: seven milliseconds, a fraction of an instant. Just enough to capture the power of a gesture, to condense thought into concept.
“Estalo” (Snap) is the title of the 14th Mercosul Biennial, taking place from March 27 to June 1, 2025, in Porto Alegre. The term resonates between the ephemerality of sound and the permanence of impact, defining an edition guided by the idea of metamorphosis.
The curatorship, set to make waves, is in the hands of Raphael Fonseca, one of the most active names on the international circuit.
Born in Rio de Janeiro and based in the United States—where he serves as curator of modern and contemporary Latin American art at the Denver Art Museum—Fonseca moves between contexts and geographies. His work spans museums and biennials, rethinking the dynamics of contemporary art and the circulation of narratives.
With award-winning curatorships and international recognition—including his presence on ArtReview's list of the 100 most influential figures in visual arts in 2023 and 2024—Fonseca continues to question borders and redefine spaces.
Below, the key excerpts from Raphael Fonseca’s conversation with SP-Arte.

Exhibition at the "Denver Art Museum: Sandra Vásquez de La Horra: The Awake Volcanoes" (2024), curated by Raphael Fonseca. Photo: Eric Stephenson
1) The theme of the Mercosul Biennial is “Estalo,” which in 2025 reaches its 14th edition. What concept guided you and your team in conceiving this Biennial?
The name Estalo came from a very organic thought process, initially envisioning a Biennial with a post-pandemic character that would follow the flow of life amid all the political changes in Brazil and the world in recent years. How do we create a Biennial that reflects on the notion of transformation and perhaps embraces life in a more constructive and less destructive way? That was our question. The name Estalo made sense because it is a broad concept, an umbrella that holds different interpretations. Each person can "snap" the word in their own way. This is not a Biennial pointing in a single direction. It is like an asterisk indicating multiple paths. Every artist and every audience member can imprint their own unique notion of Estalo from its name.

"Untitled" by Antonio Tarsis, on display at Cais do Porto during the 13th Mercosul Biennial in Porto Alegre (2022). Photo: Press Release
2) We have noticed a movement of looking inward, understanding that the regional is also universal. Will this idea be reflected in the curatorship?
I believe everything is regional and, at the same time, universal. I am from Rio de Janeiro, I grew up in Jacarepaguá, and if someone wants to read me through a regional lens, they can. But these categorizations intersect. With the connectivity provided by the internet, we can research and access artists we previously couldn’t reach without necessarily traveling. There is growing attention to counter-hegemonic narratives from places traditionally seen as peripheral. This allows Brazil to carry out increasingly broader projects, such as Fullgás, which includes artists from all over the country, many of whom had never exhibited in the Rio-São Paulo axis. The Mercosul Biennial reflects this perspective, also bringing in artists from Thailand, China, and Taiwan—who, years ago, might not have been part of this circuit due to research limitations. But this discussion is not new. What has been happening is a more conscious effort in exhibitions and artistic projects to blur narratives and rethink borders.

Exhibition "Fullgás" (2024) at the CCBB RJ, with overall curatorship by Raphael Fonseca. Photo: Lua Morales
3) This Biennial was postponed due to the floods that hit Rio Grande do Sul. Will the climate emergency be present in this edition?
The climate emergency is one of the Biennial’s topics, but not the only one. It’s important to highlight that this discussion was already part of the Biennial before the floods. Of course, the catastrophe led us to revisit some works and exhibition spaces, prompting artists to rethink their proposals. It's impossible not to talk about climate change and the tragedies that emerge in our lives, engulfing us in the blink of an eye. We've had floods in Brazil, just as there have been wildfires in California. These are foretold tragedies, the result of small snaps that, over time, culminate in catastrophic events. This tragic element is present in the Biennial in different ways, not just in relation to climate.

"Ar", by José Bento, on display at Cais do Porto during the 13th Mercosul Biennial (2022), in Porto Alegre. Photo: Press Release
4) As a curator living outside Brazil, working at the Denver Art Museum and participating in the Counterpublic Art Triennial in Missouri, how do you see the cultural exchange between Brazil and the international scene? Are there still stereotypes associated with Brazilians or Latin Americans in this global arena?
I always feel that Brazil could engage in more exchanges, but since it is a vast country with incredible artists, it sometimes turns inward—just like other large nations such as the U.S., Russia, and India. We gain a lot when we connect with other places, not just in Latin America but across the globe. There is a lack of opportunities for artists, curators, gallerists, and collectors to travel outside Brazil and to host people from abroad. Those who don’t come from privileged backgrounds face even greater challenges. There are not enough grants or public and private investments. As for stereotypes, they certainly exist. And it’s interesting to place “Brazilian” and “Latino” in the same sentence, as Brazil doesn’t always identify itself as part of Latin America. In U.S. political discourse, for example, “Latino” usually refers to Spanish-speaking people. Brazil occupies a very particular space.
In the art world, there is an expectation that Brazilian artists explicitly address Brazil in their work. An abstract painter, for instance, may have a harder time gaining recognition than an artist working with social narratives. Yes, there are many stereotypes, but I believe life is long and opportunities are diverse. We need to show international audiences that the notion of Brazil is made up of many layers—and that Brazilian art can connect with global issues, engaging in discussions that resonate with places like the United Arab Emirates, China, Paraguay, or the peripheries of the United States.

Exhibition at the Denver Art Museum: "Sandra Vásquez de La Horra: The Awake Volcanoes" (2024), curated by Raphael Fonseca. Photo: Eric Stephenson
5) In 2023 and 2024, you were recognized as one of the 100 most influential people in visual arts by ArtReview magazine. What does this recognition mean to you?
I never imagined this could happen. I come from a working-class background, and although I have always followed ArtReview, I never considered the possibility of being featured there. It was a surprise and the result of a lot of hard work. On the other hand, it’s also somewhat of a mirage. People assume that this kind of recognition guarantees many opportunities. Of course, it opens doors, but the reality is that you still have to keep working, connecting, and moving forward. I remain someone who doesn’t come from a privileged family or network. I was the first person in my family to attend university. Being included in the list is gratifying, but it’s not a finish line—it’s a springboard for new projects.

Exhibition "Raio que o Parta" (2022) at Sesc 14 Bis, with general curatorship by Raphael Fonseca. Photo: Rafael Salim
6) What were the motivations behind the project 1 Curadxr, 1 Hora? Do you plan to bring it back?
The project was born out of pandemic boredom and loneliness, but also from the realization that curators in Brazil have few opportunities for exchange. The profession is precarious, and the national art market is limited. It was a project driven by the desire to learn from others and understand people’s biographies. I learned a lot and even made friends in the process. I interviewed 106 curators, but I still have a long list of people I’d like to interview. It was an enriching and transformative experience, generating a research archive that is still used today. I’d love to bring the project back if I had the time. Maybe one day.