Throughout 2026, the Cittadellarte Journal is hosting a series of interviews with the Foundation's collaborators, who are asked to respond to an identical set of questions. Cittadellarte in the Mirror -the name of this column - serves as an exercise in listening and self-reflection that spans different roles, practices, and sensibilities, providing a plural portrait of the Cittadellarte organism. The questions touch upon some of the most urgent issues of our time - from social transformation to responsibility, from education to indifference, from the risk of artistic action to the possibility of reactivating empathy - and function as a mirror: they do not seek definitive answers but ask the respondents to take a stand, to expose themselves, and to interrogate their own role in the present.

In this fourteenth instalment, the mirror turns to Juan Sandoval, Director of UNIDEE Residency Programs. Juan Sandoval creates contemporary art projects, produces objects and images, develops devices for collaboration and collective learning, and compiles publications. He enters the creative process through the layering of personal experiences, the application of artisanal production techniques, and the observation of social processes. In his research, Sandoval has developed projects in collaboration with cultural organisations dealing with themes of immigration, economy, and local culture. He has carried out projects with members of indigenous communities in the Amazon region and the Andes. Part of his current research focuses on labour and the role of the worker within the process of transforming the social context. In his recent projects, he articulates an active relationship between matter, society, and territory, combining individual observation and experience with collective experimentation. He uses earth in its various forms -clay, pigment, agricultural soil, mud - in the creation of symbolic objects, as an integral element of a performative action, or as a site for research within a collective journey. From 2002 to 2022, Sandoval directed the Art Office at Cittadellarte, coordinating the realisation of 22 editions of the Arte al Centro exhibition within the Foundation’s headquarters and a series of exhibitions in other venues, including the Kunsthaus Graz, Austria; MuKHA in Antwerp, Belgium; San Servolo Island for the 50th Venice Biennale; the Galleria Civica in Modena, Italy; and the MAXXI Museum in Rome, Italy. He co-curated the exhibition Cittadellarte. Sharing Transformation at Kunsthaus Graz, the first two editions of the Methods seminar (a research project on the relationship between art and society), and two interdisciplinary co-design workshops in Venice and Gorizia, Italy. Since 2018, he has been the Director of UNIDEE Residency Programs, Cittadellarte’s artist residency programme for art and social transformation, open to artists and professionals from all over the world. The goal of the programme is to provide participants with the inspiration, motivation, and tools to activate, develop, or enhance artistic initiatives based on engagement with local ecologies. He is the co-founder of the collective El Puente_lab [cultural activation laboratory], an artistic production platform active in Medellín (Colombia), whose objective is to develop artistic projects of social insertion by collaborating with international artists and experts. Sandoval has conducted workshops across Italy (Turin, Bari, Lecce, Taranto, Palermo) and has participated in artist residencies in France, Austria, Italy, and England. In 2018, he received the NCTM for Art prize in Milan.

In the following interview, he explores the themes of responsibility, collaboration, and training, drawing on extensive experience at Cittadellarte. In his answers, social transformation emerges as a situated practice in constant flux, while collective work is framed as a possible antidote to the drift toward automation and isolation. Between personal memory and a critical vision of the present, Sandoval offers the image of an art capable of generating dialogue and relationships.

2025 is drawing to a close as a year in which the word "transition" seems to have lost its potency, replaced by a widespread sense of fatigue and a return to the logics of power, war, and closure. In this context, does it still make sense to talk about responsible social transformation, or do we need to change the lexicon and rethink our practices?
When we talk about responsible social transformation, we aren't referring to a recipe or a set of instructions written 25 years ago that continue to be applied year after year in the same way. Therefore, we are not dealing with something immutable or something established by someone and applied repeatedly. Responsible social transformation is an attitude, a stance in the face of realities that shift in different contexts: think of art projects that work and renew themselves precisely because they react to a reality that is mutating, changing, and in transformation. Thus, responsible social transformation speaks of all those practices that react to or act within contexts of change. Since we find ourselves today within the logics of power, amidst wars and closures, it is natural that all these socially engaged art practices are — now more than ever — fundamental, because they help us imagine possible worlds and paths, and even foresee negative scenarios. So, as it is not something already written, it must be rewritten every time according to the social and political changes we experience.

This year, Cittadellarte has once again operated on both a local and global level: from China to the European borders, from the Mediterranean to East Asia. Bringing an installation or a "demopractic" work to places fraught with history, conflict, or symbolism exposes art to unpredictable interpretations. How important is it for the Foundation to accept this risk?
I think it is less of a risk and more of an opportunity to speak about the themes dear to Cittadellarte. When we take our thoughts, work experiences, and philosophy to other contexts, as mentioned in the question, we also find ourselves relating to other realities, generating a comparison. I believe, therefore, that the Foundation's work allows us to initiate dialogues that bear more fruit when we start collaborative processes beginning from the works of Cittadellarte, the Third Paradises, the embassies, and our entire network of contacts. Thanks to these dialogues, we can propose paths of change and collective actions.

In 2026, what does it mean to educate for responsibility in a world where algorithms, artificial intelligence, and automation seem to increasingly subtract space from conscious human action and, in this sense, from authorship?
I work with the part of Cittadellarte that deals with training and learning processes through the residencies. What are residencies? They are moments where one learns collectively, without anyone "teaching" you something. You learn from others through sharing and collaborating. Therefore, these collective learning experiences, such as the modules and research residencies, are a tool that allows us to transmit our concepts of responsibility and balance, but they also allow us to engage with topics like artificial intelligence. I think the antidote to automation is precisely sharing and collective work.

During your time at Cittadellarte, what do you feel you have "unlearnt"? Is there a conviction you would let go of today compared to the past?
My journey at Cittadellarte began many years ago, when Michelangelo Pistoletto was giving rise to a utopia. I was part of the first official group of residents: I was a 28-year-old artist and, at that time, I had been trained with the idea of art as an individual gesture, the fruit of my own creativity, my intelligence, and my way of seeing the world. The first thing I learnt — and I would say very quickly — was the value of the collective, of creating together. In fact, after the first year at Cittadellarte, I co-founded a collective with other fellow artists that is still active today, namely el puente_lab. So, I "unlearnt" individualism in art and opened myself up to all those collaborative and community practices. For me, it was a great educational process that led me to share paths and ideas, always under the concept of responsible social transformation.

Let us consider Cittadellarte as a living organism. Which part do you feel is most fragile today? And which is more mature than you would have imagined? Firstly, in recent years, there has been a renewal of people, ideas, and new recruits. Then, there is a maturity in creating projects that consider the territory, such as Biella Città Arcipelago and Let Eat Bi, but also the UNIDEE residencies or the Accademia Unidee and Learning Environments. All of these have a strong link with the local population. This is a process that has consolidated over the last ten years.
Regarding fragility, I think Cittadellarte faces the same challenges as other cultural institutions in this country: being economically sustainable. This aspect is unfortunately a constant, because it is difficult to make the world understand the importance that art and culture have, and thus for them to be seen as something as relevant as, for example, public health institutions. Cultural realities should be broadly supported and utilised by people; therefore, I consider it a fragility to be "unseen" as something fundamental to society. This reflection might not link perfectly to the idea of the foundation as a living organism, but I interpret it as an organism that is part of a giant body, which is society; and this organ — the cultural organ — is sometimes not sufficiently recognised by the rest of the body. And this makes it fragile.

We live in a time where we are exposed daily to images of extreme pain, yet we often remain immobile. What kind of emotion is indifference? If it were a work of art, would you destroy it, like the breaking of Pistoletto’s mirror?
I am not sure if the gesture of breaking Pistoletto’s mirror is a fitting example, because it is a generative act: it was done to generate many mirrors; by breaking one, you generate many, so I don't know if I would want to break something in that way, because I interpret "breaking" in your question as something destructive. In Pistoletto’s mirror-breaking, it doesn't happen that way; it isn't true destruction, it is an act of creation, of generating something different. It would be wonderful to be able to transform indifference, and indeed all negative feelings, into something positive. It is very difficult, and I think that rather than indifference, we are somewhat paralysed in the face of current events that overwhelm us. In recent years, violence, wars, genocide, etc., have overwhelmed us, and often, indifference is nothing more than a defence mechanism. It isn't indifference to the pain of others, but the need to protect oneself from being overcome by these feelings of pain that arrive. It is a very complex situation, whether to act or not to act in the face of situations that touch us; so, I would be very cautious in speaking about the feelings of others in the face of the suffering being experienced at this time.

In the dominant media narrative of conflicts, numbers often replace faces. What responsibility does art have in restoring humanity where political language erases it? Can art reactivate empathy without falling into the spectacularisation of pain? Bearing in mind that the word of the year for 2025, according to the Oxford Dictionary, is "Rage Bait".
For me, art does not have this responsibility; if anything, individuals must take it upon themselves. And there are indeed subjects who decide to recount suffering and pain — photojournalists, for example. This is certainly important: being free to tell stories, to narrate. Obviously, some do it, each following their own ethics and ideals. And it is very complicated now, in the world of social media, where everything happens so fast. I believe it is very difficult to create structured discourses to talk about tragedies. I reiterate, however, that for me, it is not the task of art to restore humanity to a world that is losing it: it can indeed create empathy, but it is not its responsibility to do so. And as for the spectacularisation of pain, yes, that risk exists. Not only now, but it has also happened in the past, too, because there is and has been a need or a desire — even on the part of some artists — to generate dismay and shock in others, in those who watch.

When you turn off the lights in your office, what emotion remains lit?
For some time now, I haven't had an office at Cittadellarte. When I did, turning off the lights in the evening, I felt the responsibility and the energy of participating in a collective project. That was my feeling. I also felt I had the possibility of raising a family, because my children were born and raised in Biella when I was working full-time at the Foundation (not just full-time, I could say a "double" full-time, day and night practically). And so, yes, I put all my energy, all my passion into a collective project. Now that I am no longer in Biella and no longer have an office at Cittadellarte, I still take part in this collective project, simply in a different way, without being at the foundation every day, without turning off the light of an office at the end of a working day. I do it by proposing new projects and actively participating in discussions, decision-making, and the creation of new programmes. So, yes, I am always a participant in something that evolves. This, for me, is a positive feeling.

Cover photo credit: C. Pajewski.