Listen to me carefully, you bunch of snobs. There is something happening in the world of contemporary art, and you are probably too busy admiring your reflections in your champagne glasses at openings to notice. Edgar Plans, this Spanish artist born in 1977 in Madrid, is conquering the Asian art market with his “Animal Heroes” with disproportionate eyes, while you continue to debate the relevance of the last boring conceptual installation that no one really understands.
His small mouse-headed characters, with their masks and superhero capes, invade the galleries of Hong Kong, Shanghai, and Seoul. And if you think this is just a passing commercial phenomenon, a simple “kawaii” wave to satisfy Asian collectors lacking affordable Yoshitomo Nara, think again. Plans has created a real universe, a world populated by heroes who carry values that our contemporary society seems to have forgotten: solidarity, respect, environmental protection. But do not be mistaken: behind this apparent childish simplicity hides a deeply artistic approach rooted in the pictorial tradition and philosophy.
By carefully observing Plans’ works, one cannot help but think of the concept of heterotopia developed by Michel Foucault. These “other spaces” that Foucault describes as “kinds of effectively realized utopias” [1] find a particular resonance in the Spanish artist’s canvases. The worlds that Plans creates are not simple colorful fantasies, but counter-spaces where power relations are renegotiated, where hierarchies are disrupted. His masked heroes, with their large innocent eyes, are not just cute, they are revolutionary in their ability to challenge our perception of the world.
Foucault wrote that “heterotopia has the power to juxtapose in a single real place several spaces, several sites that are themselves incompatible” [2]. Is this not exactly what Plans does when he mixes urban graffiti with childlike characters, when he juxtaposes environmental messages with an aesthetic close to comics? In “Glaciación” (2023), a recent work exhibited at Tang Contemporary Art in Hong Kong, Plans places his heroes in an icy landscape where they unearth human figures buried under the snow, next to a rose protected in a bubble bearing the inscription “IN MEMORY”. It is a glacial heterotopia, a space where the past and the future coexist, where environmental catastrophe and hope for rebirth meet.
And while some self-proclaimed art critics solemnly nod at monochrome canvases pretending to see abyssal depth, Plans builds a visual language accessible to all, without sacrificing the complexity of the subject. His technique, mixing acrylic, charcoal, colored pencils on canvas, corrugated cardboard, or paper, is part of an artistic tradition that goes from Basquiat to Dubuffet, via Keith Haring.
The influence of the theater on Plans’ work is as manifest as it is ignored by most critics. His compositions often resemble theatrical stagings, where his characters play roles in a visual drama in which the viewer becomes an active witness. Shakespeare, that master of staging human conflicts, would not have disapproved of these little heroes grappling with the great questions of our time. Moreover, the exhibition “Heart of Fearlessness” at Tang Contemporary Art explicitly establishes this parallel, with the curators stating that “Edgar Plans’ ‘Little Heroes’ evoke associations with Shakespeare and Stan Lee” [3]. Like Shakespearean characters, Plans’ heroes are often confronted with moral dilemmas, difficult choices that reveal the complexity of the human condition.
In “Game Over, Insert New Planet” (2023), Plans stages an ecological drama where his heroes, gathered in darkness, mourn a ruined Earth. This work functions as a contemporary Shakespearean tragedy, where human hubris leads to catastrophe. But unlike Shakespeare, Plans introduces an interactive dimension, inviting the viewer to reflect on their own role in this planetary drama. The inscription “INSERT NEW PLANET” in the upper left corner of the canvas, imitating the “Game Over” screen of a video game, is a direct call to our collective responsibility.
Theater, the art of representation par excellence, allows us to see the world differently, to become aware of our own role in society. As the playwright August Strindberg wrote, “theater was created to serve as a place where the public could see their own vices represented” [4]. Plans uses his canvases as stages where our own contradictions, our own failures, but also our hopes are played out. His masked characters are like actors who reflect our own image, deformed, simplified, but all the more striking.
Take “Invasion of the body snatchers” (2024), where Plans depicts trucks transporting human-shaped objects, with the inscriptions “POLITICS” and “INFLUENCER”. This work is a true satirical staging of our contemporary society, a theater of the absurd where politicians and influencers are reduced to commodities, consumer products. The vending machine offering “FAKE FACES” at the top of the canvas evokes the masks of ancient theater, highlighting how contemporary public figures often conceal the truth behind multiple personae.
The theatrical dimension of Plans’ work is also expressed in his tribute series to French literature, exhibited at the Almine Rech Gallery in Paris in 2021. In these canvases, the artist transforms the great French writers into superheroes: “Alexandre Dumas looks at his pen as if it were a mirror, Baudelaire holds a red flower in front of his eyes, and Perrault offers Cinderella’s slipper to an admiring Puss in Boots wearing high-top sneakers” [5]. These literary stagings are like pantomimes where cultural icons are reinvented, humanized, made accessible to a contemporary audience.
The world that Plans creates is a theater where the drama of our time unfolds, where masked characters allow us to see our own reality more clearly. As Shakespeare wrote in “As You Like It”: “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.” [6]. Plans seems to have understood this fundamental truth and transformed it into a unique aesthetic, both accessible and profound.
You may think that I am overestimating the importance of this Spanish artist and his characters with bulging eyes. But consider for a moment the context in which his work emerges: a time marked by social isolation, environmental anxiety, mistrust of institutions. In this gloomy landscape, Plans offers not an easy escape, but a visual language that allows us to approach these difficult questions with a fresh perspective.
His commercial success, especially in Asia, should not be a reason for intellectual disdain, but rather a subject of sociological study. As Chen Odile, in charge of international art at Ravenel, points out, “these buyers are deeply influenced by the culture of Japanese anime, and Edgar Plans’ humorous and cute style perfectly matches their preferences” [7]. More than half of Plans’ collectors were born after 1980, which indicates a generational change in tastes and collecting practices.
The artist himself, in an interview with Pablo G. Villazan, states: “My works always seek to instill good values in people. I critique human actions against the environment and social inequalities, I want people to be equal. Live your life and try to realize your dreams” [8]. This approach may seem naive, but is it not precisely this sincerity that is often lacking in contemporary art, too preoccupied with its own intellectual status?
Plans’ work reminds us that art can be both accessible and significant, that it can touch a wide audience without sacrificing its depth. His characters with immense eyes are not simple decorative figures, but vehicles for essential questions about our relationship with the environment, new technologies, and consumer society.
What makes Plans’ work so interesting is its ability to create a coherent universe where childhood and social critique coexist, where formal simplicity and thematic complexity reinforce each other. His “Animal Heroes” are not just cute characters, but gateways to a reflection on our shared humanity, on the values we risk losing in our frantic race towards technological progress and unlimited consumption.
So, bunch of snobs, it may be time to get off your intellectual pedestals and pay attention to this Spanish artist who, with his characters with disproportionate eyes, could help us see the world around us more clearly. Edgar Plans is not just a commercial phenomenon, but an artist who has understood that art can be both popular and profound, accessible and significant. And if you do not agree, well, keep sipping your lukewarm champagne in front of canvases that no one really understands, while the rest of the world marvels at the “Animal Heroes” and their message of hope in an increasingly disenchanted world.
- Foucault, Michel. “Des espaces autres” (conference at the Cercle d’études architecturales, March 14, 1967), in Architecture, Mouvement, Continuité, no.5, October 1984.
- Ibid.
- Tang Contemporary Art. “Edgar Plans: Heart of Fearlessness”, exhibition in Hong Kong, 2024.
- Strindberg, August. “Preface to Miss Julie”, 1888, in Complete Theater, volume II, L’Arche, 1982.
- Barachon, Charles. “Edgar Plans: Once Upon a Time the French Literature”, exhibition text, Almine Rech Gallery, Paris, 2021.
- Shakespeare, William. “As You Like It”, Act II, scene 7, 1599.
- Lawson-Tancred, Jo. “How Spanish Artist Edgar Plans Built a World Full of Adorable Characters—and Tapped Into an Insatiable Market for Cuteness”, Artnet News, March 28, 2023.
- Villazan, Pablo G. “Rapid Fire Questions with Edgar Plans”, League OTO, May 22, 2020.
