Nurturing Hope in an Asymmetric Art World
Elizabeth Robles, SiSa, 2025. Exhibition view. Hidrante, San Juan. Photo by José López Serra.
José López Serra is a Puerto Rican cultural worker and art curator who directs Hidrante, an independent artist–run space. He curated:
un grano de arena comprende, la distancia, 2020—featuring the works and images by Génesis Báez, Natalia Lassalle-Morillo, and Bleue Liverpool—at Museo Tamayo/ICI The Backroom.
De progreso, sólo cenizas se amontonan, 2021—featuring the works of Javier Orfón, nibia pastrana santiago y Ramón Miranda Beltrán—at Museo Tamayo/ICI The Backroom.
Insistencia Material, 2025—featuring the works of Ivelisse Jiménez and Margarita Vincenty—at Hidrante, San Juan.
Vaivén: 21st Century Art of Puerto Rico and Its Diaspora along with Teréz Iacovino at Katherine E. Nash Gallery in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Intervenxions spoke to López Serra to learn more about his practice.
What are some salient currents you are witnessing in contemporary art today?
I’m interested in the ongoing negotiations between artists, artworks, the art market, art institutions, and the capital, monetary, and power flows that undergird the whole infrastructure of art. Evidently, the power of funding and programming responds to particular interests and discourses, so it is interesting to see what type of speech and ideas are permitted while others are deplatformed or silenced.
I think the art world constantly negotiates with an asymmetry of economic power, with art seen as somewhat detached from the world. This position can be comfortable if it doesn’t attempt to pierce that veil seriously. Once it does, however, we can see how easily a career can be derailed or shut down by exclusion from funding, exhibitions, or participation.
Amarise Deán Santo, Beatriz Santiago Muñoz, Gadiel Rivera Herrera; La piel muda del tiempo, 2024. Exhibition view. Hidrante, San Juan. Photo by José López Serra.
Does the work ever feel isolating, or do you feel like you are a part of an artistic community? If so, how would you describe that community?
I can see the work I do as an independent curator and through the programming of Hidrante as isolating and, simultaneously, belonging to an artistic community both locally and online. Running a project space and independent curatorial work entails much of what I can describe as shared solitary work. Much of my work entails bouncing ideas and connecting people, so there is a natural tendency to reach out to others for feedback and thoughts.
At the same time, the work can feel isolating when the audience engages online but not in person, so it feels ambiguous in how we define community, as we’re displaced from the given geographical area to a virtual space through communication platforms. My community is an amalgamation of IRL and virtual connections bound together via affinities and dislocation.
As an independent laborer, how do you establish and maintain links of solidarity with other arts workers in the field? In terms of labor, what do you think are some of the most pressing concerns we are facing today?
In my opinion, the arts sector is one of the most under-organized fields. Aside from museum unions, which I mostly see in the US and not here in Puerto Rico, there seems to be little movement toward recognizing cultural workers (artists, curators, writers, producers, etc.) as a distinct class. I believe that labor in the arts is primarily based on one-to-one contracts, with minimal opportunities for collective bargaining as a group of independent laborers.
In terms of solidarity, I fully support the efforts of my peers in institutions to unionize. Locally, I’m always open to collaboration and helping others through in-kind support or mutual aid, such as equipment loans or photo/video documentation. The arts community in San Juan feels disjointed after the fragmentation caused by Hurricane Maria in 2017 and COVID-19.
Ivelisse Jiménez, Margarita Vincenty; Insistencia Material, 2025. Exhibition view. Hidrante, San Juan. Photo by José López Serra.
Andrea Gandarillas, Carina del Valle Schorske, Christopher Gregory-Rivera, Javier Orfón, Ramón Miranda-Beltrán; Estudios de erosión: Laja sobre mar, 2024-2025. Exhibition view. Hidrante, San Juan. Photo by José López Serra.
How do the arts intersect with other areas in your city? How do you like to work with artists, institutions, and the public?
The arts field is a great place to generate intersections with other areas and constant discussions. Through Hidrante and curatorial work, I’ve had the pleasure of collaborating with recording studios, music venues, film productions, repair and fermentation workshops, and even funeral homes. I think art overall is an excellent catalyst for conversations and connections between different fields of action and knowledge.
I greatly enjoy working with artists and institutions, especially when I can facilitate programming or commissions. We are responsible for our actions and how we collaborate with others, and I see my work as interconnected with that of others.
Regarding the public, I’m always interested in their reactions and opinions. My programming at Hidrante somewhat responds to what I perceive as gaps in the overall cultural programming in Puerto Rico, and I’m eager to see whether what I produce resonates positively or if it falls flat.
What kind of artwork inspires you lately?
I found the Alvin Ailey exhibition at the Whitney Museum incredibly inspiring. More than a specific artwork or a solo exhibition, it was a comprehensive project that weaved a greater creative narrative through Ailey's life and work. It was inspiring to see an exhibition that brought together how much of his politics and ideas found resonance in other artists and artworks, as it felt like a quilted portrait of Ailey.
G. Rosa-Rey, Javier Orfón, nibia pastrana santiago, Ricardo Cabret; NADA New York 2025: Orillar el horizonte, 2025. Exhibition view. Starett-Lehigh Building, New York. Photo by José López Serra.
What does representation mean to you? Do you feel represented in the work that you do and where it is circulated?
Representation is an intriguing concept to explore at both the micro level of the art field and the macro level of society and politics. To include local and federal politics in this discussion, what does it mean to live in a so-called representative democracy where local elections are won with less than 50% of the votes, an unelected congressionally appointed fiscal control board decides all budgetary decisions, and the final say over territorial law is kept up by three branches of government in which we don’t have any vote?
I also consider representation an ongoing axis on which we can continuously work, integrating inclusivity into arts programming. I am mindful of how arts programming itself can generate these discussions of representation and how to foster these conversations. In terms of circulation, I think it’s an interesting question that depends on the relative context of where this representation is happening.
How often are your curatorial decisions influenced by organizational or financial pressure?
Financial pressures sometimes influence my curatorial decisions, mainly due to the economic scarcity I face, the artists I enjoy collaborating with, and the context in which we work. There is a severe lack of funding for the arts in Puerto Rico, and projects like Maniobra by the Centro de Economía Creativa serve as life rafts for various projects locally, providing funding and salaries. This project has underwritten Hidrante’s programming for the past three years, allowing us to program, produce projects, and expand the range of possibilities we can work with.
La Trinchera; Hidrante Residencia #8: La Trinchera, 2025. Performance view. San Juan 721, San Juan. Photo by José López Serra.
What does the future look like to you?
The future is intriguing because I tend to be rather pessimistic about it. Not regarding my work but rather due to the significant uncertainty and turbulence we seem to face for the next four years and beyond. In my view, we are headed for conflict with the seemingly unchallenged drift toward fascism and catastrophic climate change. To connect with the second question, hope must be found and nurtured in our closest communities and the work that goes towards maintaining them as a balm to this discouraging future.