The urban world echoes

In a world where art transcends traditional boundaries, José Parlá stands as a fearless urban visionary. Born from a rich cultural mosaic and fueled by the pulse of city streets, Parlá transforms concrete and canvas into living narratives that challenge our perception of history and modernity. His monumental murals – like the tribute at One World Trade Center – and dynamic installations capture the raw resilience of communities and the layered echoes of urban landscapes. 

hube: Your mural ONE: Union of the Senses at One World Trade Center is a monumental work in a place deeply tied to collective memory and resilience. What does it mean to create something of such scale in a location that carries so much historical and emotional weight? 

José Parlá: ONE: Union of the Senses is both a painting and a movie – a twin expression meant to pay homage to the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York, lost on September 11th. I was chosen to create this large-scale mural, and it needed to be significant for New Yorkers and visitors worldwide. The work carries a message of resilience, unity, peace, and justice. Its composition is built from words – a universal language rendered in a calligraphic form that each viewer can interpret in their language. It invites you to step into a vast field of colour, texture, and language and to reflect on the history of that day, the emotional impact it had globally, and the hope for a future built on respect for life and unity.

h: In Homecoming at the Pérez Art Museum Miami, your works seem to carry both the weight of history and the energy of renewal. How do you navigate the balance between honouring the past and embracing change in your art? 

JP: I like to begin with Maya Angelou’s reminder – you cannot move forward until you understand where you have been. Homecoming is very appropriate on many levels. Locally, it pays homage to the history of Miami and the Caribbean region, acknowledging the indigenous peoples who first inhabited these lands and the diverse cultural narratives that shaped the area. On a personal level, having been born in Miami to Cuban parents and raised in Puerto Rico, I’ve always been aware of the political climate in the Caribbean and beyond. My work weaves together collage, texture, and a deeply embedded language that honours both global and local histories. I believe in looking to the past for lessons while embracing the promise of the future.

h: Are these themes of history, memory, and renewal consistent across your body of work – even in your independent projects?

JP: Absolutely. These themes have run through my work for the past 25 years. In paintings from the early 2000s, you see titles and concepts that explore psychogeography and human mark-making – ideas rooted in prehistoric cave paintings in Altamira and Lascaux, in the writings on the walls of Pompeii, and in Ancient Roman and Asian calligraphy. Cities layered in history from places like Berlin, London, Tokyo, and Hiroshima remind us that reconstruction follows conflict and transformation. Art, as I see it, reflects the state of our world, from past wars to today’s complex, often overwhelming, flow of information. Through art, we express a vision for the future with resilience and democratic storytelling.

h: With the digital age amplifying the flow of information, do you think audiences perceive the layers in art differently now compared to 25 years ago?

JP: Artists have always connected their work to the politics and realities of their times. Today, the volume of information via social media is immense – it can make the world seem more sinister, though complexity is nothing new. I grew up at the end of the Vietnam War; my parents witnessed the Cuban Revolution and the Cold War, and their parents experienced World War II. Every generation faces cataclysmic events that are deeply personal. Now, technology compresses conflicts and truths, blurring the line between what is real and what is manipulated. Art, therefore, offers a point of view that is more democratic, a space where different voices, whether expressed through film, dance, music, or painting, come together to share resilience and hope.

h: How do art, architecture, and urban environments intersect in your creative process? Do you start with the big picture or focus on details?

JP: This process is not just a method – it’s a lifestyle. I grew up in a home filled with music, films, politics, and storytelling. When I began painting in the early ‘80s during the rise of urban hip-hop culture, I was immersed in dancing, DJing, and even creating huge murals with friends. Whether I’m working on a single painting or an entire exhibition, every piece is connected to the music, the news, the history, and the conversations within the community. For example, in collaborations with Snøhetta on architectural projects, discussions about community needs guide the artwork – how a building can embody cultural narratives while maintaining functional flow. In my current project, Realismo Magico at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, I work with a choreographer, visual artists, and musicians, blending diverse forms into a process that goes far beyond painting.

h: Your art is deeply tied to cities and the energy of their streets. Is there a city or environment you haven’t yet painted that’s calling to you, and why? 

JP: There are so many places – I’ve travelled extensively, but the world is vast, and there’s always a new city or environment that sparks my interest. I would love to explore Brazil, South Africa, Nigeria, and more cities in Latin America. My interests lie in discovering cities that are layered architecturally, where you can see the past and the present merging, allowing you to imagine where the future is heading. For instance, if I had to choose one place, I’d mention La Paz in Bolivia. Its indigenous architecture, reminiscent of the textile patterns of native cultures yet imbued with a futuristic quality, is unlike anywhere else in the world. And there are similar vibes in parts of the Middle East and Asia where ancient and modern coexist in fascinating ways.

h: Your collaboration on the new Far Rockaway Library merges art with architecture in a way that transforms a public space into a living narrative. How did you approach the challenge of creating a work that not only reflects the community’s identity but also invites people to interact with it daily? What role do you see art playing in redefining how we experience libraries and other shared spaces?

JP: The design for the Far Rockaway Library started with deep conversations with principal architect Craig Dikers, Elaine Molinar, and their team at Snohetta. They immersed themselves in the neighborhood – riding bicycles and interviewing locals – to understand what the community truly needed. I was brought in as a collaborator to create artwork that covers the entire facade. We focused on language, colour, and paying homage to the area – a neighbourhood by the ocean where light plays a vital role. The art interacts with natural daylight through gigantic skylights and transforms into a beacon at night with artificial lighting. This project, over 20 years in the making, honours local history and becomes a living narrative etched into the building using a digitised printmaking technique called fritting, which preserves transparency and colour.

h: Do you believe that providing more free public spaces like this library can bring people closer to art?

JP: Yes.

h: Your work often invites viewers to look closer – to notice layers they might miss at first glance. Is that intentional? Do you think of your art as an act of slowing down in a fast-moving world?

JP: I see looking at a painting much like reading a story – it has an overall vibe, yet also countless microscopic details up close. This reflects life itself: while we may be focused on the present moment, we are aware of an infinite, expansive universe beyond us. My paintings are about embracing both the whole and the detail, the fast and the slow, and I hope that by engaging with them, each viewer finds a personal connection or revelation.

h: Between your gallery exhibitions and large-scale murals, the scale of your work is ever-changing. How do these shifts influence your process, and do you approach smaller works differently from murals that stretch stories across entire walls? 

JP: Scale has always been integral to my process. Even as a child, I painted large walls with my friends, planning in sketchbooks before transferring our ideas to a massive scale. The technique and skill to move seamlessly from small to big – and back – remains crucial. Ultimately, the size does not determine the strength of the work; the intention is always for the work to resonate equally, whether it’s a mural or a small canvas.

h: Looking ahead, are there themes or ideas you’ve yet to explore but feel ready to dive into? What’s next for José Parlá, and what stories are waiting to be told?

JP: I’m excited about several projects on the horizon. One is Euralismo, which I am curating – a multidisciplinary project involving dance, music, education, and a host of collaborations. Simultaneously, I am producing a new show heading to Japan, featuring paintings at the Pola Art Museum in Ginza and a solo exhibition at the Kotaro Nukaga Gallery in Tokyo. This new project will survey my long-standing relationship with Japan – a place that has been a home away from home through decades of travel, exhibitions, and creative partnerships. The museum show will span two decades of my work, showcasing new schematics, vibrant colours, and fragments of ideas that have been hibernating. It’s a new chapter that promises to be both fresh and deeply rooted in history.