Creative Content

In 1911, the publication of Concerning the Spiritual in Art by Wassily Kandinsky coincided with a moment of pictorial revolution. In the face of figurative representation’s dominance, abstract art emerged as a language through which the essential could be revealed without intermediaries. Though the origins of abstraction remain a matter of debate—with pioneers like Hilma af Klint, whose spiritist paintings foreshadowed unsuspected paths, or Francis Picabia with his Caoutchouc—it was Kandinsky who elevated abstraction to a deeply spiritual plane. Inspired by the freedom of Monet’s impressionist painting and by music, “the abstract art par excellence,” Kandinsky was not merely seeking a formal revolution: he aspired to unveil a spiritual dimension through the visual. His work marked a turning point not only stylistically but philosophically, proposing that art should be born of an inner necessity, in constant dialogue with the invisible.

In our age—saturated with images and stimuli—this spiritual search feels more urgent than ever. Perhaps the true challenge is not to invent new forms, but to recover our capacity to perceive, to uncover what has always been there, hidden beneath the layers of media consumption. For Kandinsky, art transcended the decorative; it was a tool to awaken the human soul, an intrinsic necessity. This vision resonates today with renewed strength:

What role can the contemporary artist play in a visually overstimulated society?
Is it still possible to speak of “spiritual energy” in a world dominated by algorithms and relentless consumption?

The invitation is clear: to return to that which we not only see, but feel. Kandinsky once wrote: “The artist must be blind to ‘recognized’ or ‘unrecognized’ forms, deaf to the teachings and desires of his time. His eyes should be turned inward, his ear attuned only to the voice of inner necessity.” In this conception, “every form and every color” holds an innate energy capable of affecting the viewer. It is this resonance and search that can induce deep emotional states in those who are open to them.

Kandinsky saw the artist as a visionary—capable of anticipating and revealing what remains hidden to most. In a landscape where markets and algorithms dictate much of what we consume, this mission is more necessary, yet more difficult. Is there still space for the uncomfortable, visionary, sincere artist?
Are we truly listening to our inner voice—or merely replicating formulas to fit in or please?
These are uncomfortable questions, but essential ones.

And yet, acts of resistance persist: independent projects, cultural collectives, and alternative spaces seeking to reconnect with the spiritual, the essential, and the communal—stepping away from the noise of the market. There, art defends itself from being reduced to a mere commodity and regains its original power as emotional and spiritual resonance. Ultimately, Kandinsky left us with a crucial warning for our times:
True art is not a consumer object, but a profound act of inner listening.

The question remains unavoidable:
How can we cultivate spiritual sensitivity in the midst of contemporary vertigo?
Now more than ever, what value lies in learning to discern and to filter?