Elvira Solana is an architect-turned-muralist whose passion for pared-down living and sensory detail has made her a quietly revolutionary figure in contemporary design. Raised between Madrid and Paris, she draws on classical training and a deep love of poetry to create painted interventions that feel at once ancestral and utterly of-the-moment. Her work isn’t about decoration – it’s a way of reawakening our emotional bond to the spaces we inhabit; as proven with her Hermès’ centenary, for which she created a contemplative space in Barcelona – an ode to touch and time.
hube: Your murals often create the illusion of expanded spaces within confined interiors. Do you see this as a form of escapism, or is it a commentary on our perception of physical boundaries?
Elvira Solana: I believe this is a common approach in architecture: doing more with less. Today, we face the challenge of designing smaller and smaller houses, along with the exponential increase in land costs. Combined with the high expense of materials and labour shortages, murals offer a solution and a tool that can address all these issues. It’s not just a functional matter; there’s also a poetic aspect to it. Living is not merely a rational act; it is primarily sensory and emotional. Murals transform the way a room is perceived. You may see inspiring landscapes, infinite spaces, complex architecture painted on your walls… but the feeling you get when you enter the room should be more like that of a hermitage – connected to aspects that are more ancestral than exhibitionist, or at least that is my aim.
h: Transitioning from architecture to mural painting, how do you reconcile the permanence of architectural structures with the ephemeral nature of painted art?
ES: One of the aspects I value most about my work is that it is carried out on existing supports. It minimises impact, adapts to what has already been constructed, and can completely transform it with minimal resource usage. The concept of the ephemeral is subjective and tied to commitment. In many instances, when something is deemed ephemeral in architecture, it is primarily a reflection of our own will – our desire for change or replacement. The actual duration that objects can remain in place is far longer than the time our desires allocate to them.
h: In your recent installation for Hermès in Barcelona, you transformed simple wooden boxes into symbolic art pieces that explore the essence of objects. Could you elaborate on how this concept reflects your approach to merging architecture with mural art, and what challenges did you encounter in this creative process?
ES: My intention with the mural is to transform physical and sensory perception through analogue and graphic media, such as painting. This is my essential premise: the mural can transform the way we perceive a space and, therefore, its architectural qualities.
The project for the Hermès window display in Barcelona presented an obvious challenge: there were no walls to paint on. In this case, I had to design the surface on which I would paint. However, the intention remained the same: to transform its perception and conception. Although I prefer to work with existing elements, it is true that sometimes it is interesting to design both the content and the container (the mural and the surface) to create a complete work.
h: In your own residence, you’ve painted illusions of terraces and ocean views. How do these imagined extensions reflect your personal aspirations or comment on societal desires for more expansive living spaces?
ES: It’s not about having endless space, but rather about having places where you feel good. A home is not just about privacy; it’s a space where we can feel safe, away from noise, and where we can express our own way of life freely, beyond social conventions. It’s not a question of exhibitionism; it’s a question of healthcare.
As a good friend once told me, where you live is as important as what you eat. There is a whole consciousness surrounding food, yet we don’t seem to apply the same criteria to housing. What you eat, much like how you live, is a reflection of who you are. It’s not about defining a specific type of housing, but about having the freedom to choose your own, as well as the neighbourhood or place where you wish to reside. And right now, we don’t have that freedom.
h: In your recent installation for Hermès in Barcelona, you transformed simple wooden boxes into symbolic art pieces that explore the essence of objects. Could you elaborate on how this concept reflects your approach to merging architecture with mural art, and what challenges did you encounter in this creative process?
ES: My intention with the mural is to transform physical and sensory perception through analogue and graphic media, such as painting. This is my essential premise: the mural can transform the way we perceive a space and, therefore, its architectural qualities.
The project for the Hermès window display in Barcelona presented an obvious challenge: there were no walls to paint on. In this case, I had to design the surface on which I would paint. However, the intention remained the same: to transform its perception and conception. Although I prefer to work with existing elements, it is true that sometimes it is interesting to design both the content and the container (the mural and the surface) to create a complete work.
h: In your own residence, you’ve painted illusions of terraces and ocean views. How do these imagined extensions reflect your personal aspirations or comment on societal desires for more expansive living spaces?
ES: It’s not about having endless space, but rather about having places where you feel good. A home is not just about privacy; it’s a space where we can feel safe, away from noise, and where we can express our own way of life freely, beyond social conventions. It’s not a question of exhibitionism; it’s a question of healthcare.
As a good friend once told me, where you live is as important as what you eat. There is a whole consciousness surrounding food, yet we don’t seem to apply the same criteria to housing. What you eat, much like how you live, is a reflection of who you are. It’s not about defining a specific type of housing, but about having the freedom to choose your own, as well as the neighbourhood or place where you wish to reside. And right now, we don’t have that freedom.
h: Your murals often incorporate architectural elements like colonnades and terraces. Do you view these additions as critiques of modern architectural practices, or are they homages to classical design principles?
ES: They are archetypal elements that make up our collective memory; we all recognise them instantly just by looking at them. Viewers should understand what you depict on the wall, even if they can’t enter these virtual spaces. To achieve this, I use familiar codes from the visual language of architecture. In a mural, architecture is presented graphically – somewhere between an elevation drawing and the actual building.
h: Looking ahead, do you envision expanding your transformative techniques beyond private residences to public or communal spaces? How might your approach adapt when addressing the collective experience of a broader audience?
ES: Architecture embraces many different scenarios: residential, commercial, hospitality, urban… However, it all comes down to the same question: solving a project according to its context. I don’t believe there is a fundamental difference between contexts, but I do think there is a distinction between interior and exterior. I have no particular interest in working on external facades. Architecture generally possesses the quality of an object from the outside; however, experiencing its interior provides a different sensation. The feeling of being enveloped by it and traversing through it is far more intricate, and at present, I sense it aligns more closely with my interests.
Photography courtesy of the artist