Working on all things video, Chino Moya has been able to develop his personal language, craft multiple universes, and become an expert on the medium. From music videos to art pieces and commercials, the Madrid-born, London-based artist is a master at world-building — which as earned him the respect of the industry, winning awards, and exhibiting his work worldwide. Until the 1st of March, Seventeen gallery in London is hosting a solo show titled Meta-Mythical Optimisation where he introduces the audience to a future that’s in between a utopia and a dystopia.
“We had a lot of utopian possibilities in the 20th century, like communism, fascism, and later Thatcher and Reagan’s neoliberalism. None of them worked, and now we don’t have any alternatives left and we don’t seem to be able to even come up with anything new,” he tells us in this interview. With his rich imagination, full of references and new ideas, he’s been working on possible futures through different series. The buildings, the characters, the clothes, the landscapes… They all make sense when put together under his trained gaze.
Hi Chino, it’s a pleasure to speak with you. To get to know you better, what are your latest obsessions — music you’re currently listening to non-stop, shows you’re binge-watching, books you’re reading…?
I’m currently reading Flicker by Theodore Roszak — a gift from a friend. It’s a strange and paranoid novel about movie obsessions. Music-wise, I’ve been listening to ambient, a bit of dream pop, electronic krautrock and artists like Grouper, Cindy and Cindy Lee (weird that they have the same name!), the sci-fi stuff by Klaus Schulze is something I very often return to. Sunn O)))…
I haven’t watched any new shows for a while, but I loved The Curse last year; lately, I’ve been mainly rewatching older movies, some horror films — I just went through a Vincent Price phase (The Last Man on Earth is one of my favourites) with my daughter, with whom I also watch a lot of early 2000s high school comedies. My highlight of 2025 so far has been the 1980s Spanish documentary Dressed in Blue and rewatching Cronenberg’s Scanners.
Born and raised in Madrid, you moved to London almost twenty years ago. What prompted that change, and how would you say the city has shaped your creativity and artistry?
I needed a change. I lived in NYC for a bit, and when I returned to Spain, I felt I needed to be somewhere else, so I decided to move to London and try my luck there. It took me some time to start working properly in the UK. The competition was huge, and the cultural divide between Northern and Southern Europe before social media was much bigger than it is now, so I had to adapt to a completely new system and fine-tune the style and message of my work to make myself more visible.
Being around people from all over the world who were also doing creative work, being exposed to so much art, books, films, and music, and being permanently in survival mode gave me an extra drive that I don’t think I would have had if I’d stayed in Spain.
You’ve worked across film, music videos, and commercials, so it’s clear you love moving images. Was there a specific moment when you knew you wanted to be behind a camera?
I’ve been obsessed with film all my life, so I couldn’t imagine doing anything else other than making moving images in any possible format.
In an increasingly video-based world, it seems like you got it right. How have you experienced the evolution (and even the blooming) of the medium over the past few years? Because earlier, videos were mostly on TV, but now they’re everywhere.
I think the biggest changes I’ve seen are the transition from analogue film to digital (which was sad, but helped democratise the medium) and the emergence of online platforms that gave a voice to anyone who wanted to put a video out there. I got into music videos because some of them were proper artworks, and people like Chris Cunningham and Michel Gondry were constantly innovating and pushing the medium. But I’m not sure how much of that spirit was left in the industry by the time I properly established myself…
Your work is currently being exhibited at London’s Seventeen gallery — congratulations! Could you tell us about how Meta-Mythical Optimisation came to be?
Creating those video pieces, then turning them into physical objects, and finally building the immersive space that became the show required the involvement of a lot of people and companies. The initial support came from Colección Solo, a Spanish art foundation and private museum that’s still very involved in the project; they’ve been amazing and helped at every stage. Then Black Dog, the music video division of Ridley Scott’s company, physically produced the videos, also doing an awesome job.
Once the videos were finished, Seventeen gallery decided to do a show with me, and we’ve been working together for the last six months turning those initial digital files into tangible artworks. That’s also been a great experience. Along the way, there have also been many amazing and talented individuals who contributed to the project — 3D modelling, making music, filming, editing, designing costumes, building sets, hair styling, doing makeup, building the frames, fabricating sculptures, painting the gallery walls, and of course giving creative, technical and emotional support. The list goes on…
I love your capacity to build parallel realities — just like you did in a previous series, Deemona. In this new exhibition, you present a techno-pragmatic future with post-work, post-hunger, and post-suffering implications. I’m not sure whether that’s a dystopia or a utopia. Could you clarify this for us?
I’d rather leave that to the viewer, as I don’t have a definitive answer. But I don’t think a world like Deemona would be livable for us 21st-century humans; I don’t think we’re prepared for something like that. In the show, I propose a world without bodily pain or pleasure — a world where humans are liberated from work and violence, but also from desire. I ultimately wanted to raise a question about where we want to go as a species.
We had a lot of utopian possibilities in the 20th century, like communism, fascism, and later Thatcher and Reagan’s neoliberalism. None of them worked, and now we don’t have any alternatives left and we don’t seem to be able to even come up with anything new.
The landscapes feature geometric architecture (arches, domes, etc.), a starved classicism (often associated with past totalitarian regimes), and characters who seem part of a religious order or even the military. So it’s all quite dystopian — which seems about right in today’s political and social landscape. Do you use fiction to reflect on the real world?
Yeah, you can make very open and ambiguous comments on our present reality through science fiction without being explicit at all. The same goes for horror. That’s one of the (many) reasons why I love the genre.
You did reflect on Europe’s decay in your celebrated 2020 movie Underdogs. We’re seemingly further down the negative spiral. How do you see the state of the world today compared to five years ago?
Considering that the wealthiest people in the world own the channels that the majority of humans use to communicate with each other on a daily basis — and seeing what sort of people they’re siding with lately… What can I say? It feels a bit grim.
Despite the landscapes inspired by totalitarian regimes, the characters are in a meditative state. They seem at peace with themselves, very calm. Is this contrast something you were looking for? And do you hope viewers also reach this state after walking through your exhibition?
Yes, I want to infuse a sense of tranquillity into the works, and I hope it puts viewers in a certain mental state. I went to North Korea once (by far the most totalitarian, in the old Orwellian sense, country in the world) and I was struck by how calm it was. The absence of billboards, brands, advertising, and the lack of the constant buzz of mobile phones and routers created an eerie but pleasant sense of peaceful stillness. Maybe the videos capture a bit of that. I also wanted to reflect harmony and contemplation, something you find in most mystic traditions around the world.
The universe you’ve built also takes me to Denis Villeneuve’s Dune — the starkness but also the grandiosity of the buildings, the desert-inspired looks, the military uniforms. What goes into crafting a world that feels new and fresh but also connects with the collective imagination?
I think world-building in general requires a lot of research – delving into the past and into other artists’ works – but on the other hand, it’s very important to free yourself from some of these influences and find new patterns that allow you to reach places others haven’t reached before.
Speaking of Dune, and since you’re also a filmmaker, any thoughts on the Oscars nominations? Are you rooting for any movie or anyone (director, actor/actress, etc.) in particular?
I have to confess I feel a bit unexcited by most of the movies out there, and even less so by the Oscar-nominated ones. I’m glad that horror films have now transcended the genre space and are becoming more mainstream, and that movies which a few years ago would have been considered too arthouse or too genre to be eligible now get Oscar nominations. But I’m missing something more daring, more provocative, more innovative in most contemporary films, both in form and in message.
There is a strong use of symbols in your work that makes it look somewhat esoteric. Is this something you strive for? Are you into the occult?
I was mad about horror, the occult, and the paranormal as a kid. It was probably my biggest childhood obsession, so I guess a lot of that has stayed with me, and it’s still very present in my work.
Besides your own pieces, you also direct music videos for bands and artists like St. Vincent, Years & Years, or Hurts. How different is the process when there are other creative minds involved?
I like collaborating with other people creatively, especially if they’re talented and our ideas align. Moving image is probably the most collaborative artistic medium, so you need to be able to work alongside many others if you want to make films of any kind. That may change soon, though, with the emergence of AI.
You’ve won several awards (for your commercial work as well as your films). Do they help you build confidence, or do they put more pressure on you?
In my case, recognition tends to help me move forward. I have to spend so much time trying to get projects off the ground and dealing with rejections that when I manage to get something done and receive positive feedback, it helps me realise that what I do is worth the effort and that I should carry on.
To finish, what are your hopes and wishes for this year? Anything you want to accomplish (professionally, personally, or artistically)?
I currently divide my time between the art and the film world, which sometimes feels a bit disjointed, but on the other hand, it’s exciting to inhabit two different universes. Sometimes I feel the same about my personal life — I do exist in different realities at the same time. I would love to harmonise the links and connections among all those parallel universes a bit more and I’m actively working on that.
