

Abetare: Noisy Classroom, 2024
Photography by DAN BRADICA


Photo by DANIEL TERNA
José Kuri doesn’t just run a gallery – he lives art every day. In this candid exchange, he reveals how the raw chaos of Mexico City and genuine local connections fuel a space built on survival and passion, not profit. Dive into his manifesto for art as a way of life – unapologetic, unrefined, and forever out of control.
hube: kurimanzutto has always been more than just a space for exhibiting art – it feels like a living, evolving entity in itself. What vision does it embody in your collective vision?
José Kuri: Art is a part of life; we never see it as work. The gallery emerged out of necessity. Monica, a group of artists, and I recognised that no existing gallery in Mexico responded to our unique local needs. There was an incredible network of artists, yet the ecosystem was barely formed – only a few galleries existed, and none worked closely with their creators. We organised gatherings based solely on what artists truly needed, and that organic process became our foundation. For example, Gabriel Orozco needed to create a platform to carry his work in Mexico, at a time when many artists juggled teaching or side jobs to survive. We never treated it as a business but as a way for artists to make a living. The gallery has become like a family – the artists are close friends, and I share vacations and everyday life with them.
h: Mexico City has a vibrant, complex cultural identity that has shaped your artistic and curatorial practices. How does the city’s rhythm, energy, or even its contradictions influence your individual creative work and the gallery’s identity?
JK: I believe the best art is local – it springs from the specific needs and ideas of its environment. We set out to be the best gallery in our neighborhood by working exclusively with artists who live and breathe Mexico. Mexico City itself is a blend of extremes – beauty and cruelty, order and chaos – which fuels creativity. As Carlos Mosivas once observed, the city is a chaos that works. Rather than settling into a sterile white cube, we transformed available spaces – renting, squatting, even converting our apartment. The city became our gallery.
h: You often challenge the boundaries between the object and the space it inhabits. How do you see the role of space in the context of kurimanzutto? In what ways does the gallery itself serve as a transformative space for both the art and the audience?
JK: Our goal has always been to find the ideal setting to showcase work – one that is not neutral but in dialogue with the art itself. In our early days, we weren’t focused on conventional mediums like painting; our art was deeply tied to local contexts and the very pulse of Mexico. Even as we expanded beyond Mexico, that original spirit endured. The space becomes an active participant, transforming the way the work is experienced. The gallery isn’t defined by a fixed location – it’s about the conversation between art and its environment.
h: In a world marked by social and political flux, what do you believe is the artist’s role in influencing or reflecting societal change?
JK: Art is both a mirror and a catalyst – it reflects reality and fuels transformation. Working with local issues gives art a profound resonance. Many of our artists come from histories marked by displacement and political struggle – stories of immigration, exile, and activism that infuse their work with a potent political subtext. I’m not trying to solve global problems; I’m simply voicing what happens here and now. Even the most intimate issues can echo universally.
h: As an artist and gallerist, you influence the trajectory of contemporary art in powerful ways. How do you think your role as a gallery founder shapes the dialogue around art in a way that might differ from traditional gallery owners or curators?
JK: My background shapes everything I do. I remain close to the artists, true to their visions and beliefs. There’s a deep responsibility in being entrusted to translate and present their work. It isn’t about imposing ideas but about staying faithful to how I see the world and maintaining that intimate connection with the creative impulse. That commitment guides every decision we make.
h: Looking ahead, what do you hope kurimanzutto will stand for in the future? What is the legacy you want to leave not just as artists and curators, but as catalysts for a larger cultural and artistic transformation?
JK: When we began, I defined our motto as ‘cheap, fast, and out of control’. Even after 25 years, I want to remain lean, agile, and untamed – whether we’re extending to New York or growing our team. I strive to stay as close as possible to the artists, thriving in creative chaos where art isn’t about control but freedom. If I leave a legacy, it will be one of liberation – a gallery that embodies freedom for both its space and its artists. Actions speak louder than explanations; the ambiguity of art invites powerful, personal interpretations.

GABRIEL OROZCO installation view, 2024
Photo by GERARDO LANDA & EDUARDO LÓPEZ (GLR ESTUDIO)

Little Song installation view, 2023
Photography by GENEVIEVE HANSON

GABRIEL OROZCO installation view, 2024
Photo by GERARDO LANDA & EDUARDO LÓPEZ (GLR ESTUDIO)



In Gods We Trust installation view, 2023
Photography by GENEVIEVE HANSON
Image courtesy of the artists and KURIMANZUTTO Mexico City / New York