HELLO GLUK, AND WELCOME TO 4BYSIX'S VEHICLES FOR CHANGE INITIATIVE. IT'S GREAT TO HAVE YOU JOIN THE 4BYSIX FAMILY, AND THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME TO SPEAK TO US ABOUT YOUR CREATIVE PRACTICE AND THE WORK YOU HAVE MADE AS PART OF THIS COLLABORATIVE EFFORT.
TO BEGIN, CAN YOU PLEASE INTRODUCE YOURSELF AND YOUR PRACTICE FOR ANYONE WHO MAY BE COMING ACROSS YOUR WORK FOR THE FIRST TIME?
What's up, I'm Gluk. I'm a Caribbean artist, born and raised in Caracas, Venezuela, and these days I live and work in Mexico City. Mostly I paint in oil and I tattoo, and every now and then I bring new media into the mix. Different tools, same mission: I take the people, symbols and stories I grew up with and elevate them with the highest respect, because they are the true beacons of Venezuelan culture and identity. A huge part of what makes Venezuela special is its people, who still bloom in a garden planted with so much violence and watered with oil. As a migrant, I've been a bit all over the place. I studied in Shanghai and New York, then spent eight years living and working between Berlin and Paris, where I helped code, produce and install Elias Crespin's Onde du Midi at the Louvre. But no matter where I am, everything comes back to Caracas, and to the dialogue between violence and beauty.
"Valet parking en las mercedes", 2026
By Gluk
YOU RECENTLY MADE A NEW PIECE ON ONE OF 4BYSIX'S UNCONVENTIONAL CANVASES MADE FROM REPURPOSED LORRY TARPAULIN. GIVEN YOUR VARIED MATERIAL BACKGROUND, FROM OIL ON CANVAS TO TATTOOING ON COWHIDE, HOW DID YOU FIND THE PROCESS OF WORKING ON THIS SURFACE?
Great question. When I think about it, the approach is always the same with new surfaces and materials: it's a creative puzzle you have to figure out. The curiosity is born from understanding the materials, the surfaces and the infinite variations between them, and learning how to interact with each one is kinda what gets me goin'.
This tarp had something extra, though. It's already lived a life: it's been on the road, it's got scars. In a way, it's the same move as the cowhide. A hide is the skin of an animal, and a tarp is the skin of a truck. I'm painting on another skin that's been somewhere.
GLUK
Title: “Valet parking en las mercedes", 2026
Size: 70 x 70 cm
Materials: Oil on Tarpaulin
Additional Information: A Certificate of Authenticity is included.
Rarity: Unique, signed on reverse
Bid on the work here
YOUR WORK SEEMS TO BE HEAVILY INFLUENCED BY YOUR SURROUNDINGS AND THE PEOPLE WITHIN IT. CAN YOU TELL US IF OBSERVATIONS AND ATTITUDES TOWARD THE COMPLEX RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN HUMANKIND AND THE WORLD ENVIRONMENT FALL INTO THE NARRATIVE OF YOUR PRACTICE?
100%. When I was growing up, a lot of outlets were calling Caracas the most dangerous city in the world. Living somewhere that's insanely beautiful and violent at the same time shapes you. I think that's what makes the Venezuelan perspective so unique, in our art and in our identity. That's why I feel this need to represent every layer of our culture. So I take the things that were looked down on for years and paint them in oil, the most "noble" medium there is. That's my way of saying culture doesn't only come from academia and higher education. It lives in the streets, in the humanity of everyday Venezuelan life. That's what I want hanging on the wall.
AS YOU OFTEN REFERENCE AND RECONTEXTUALISE MOTORBIKES AS THE CONTEMPORARY EQUIVALENT OF THE HORSE AS A SYMBOL OF DAY-TO-DAY MOBILITY, CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT YOUR PERSONAL AND ARTISTIC CONNECTION TO TRANSPORTATION SUCH AS CARS AND MOTORBIKES?
Man, in Venezuela the moto is everything. It's the mototaxi climbing up the barrio where no bus will go, the delivery guy, a whole family on one seat, the kid pulling a wheelie down the avenue. And check this: back home we call a wheelie a caballito, a little horse. So the connection was in our language way before I ever put it on a canvas.
Growing up, the hero was always on a horse: Bolívar cast in bronze in the middle of the plaza. That was the image of power and freedom. Today the people's horse is a 150cc bike. It's freedom, it's hustle, it's survival, and depending on who's telling the story, it's the hero or the villain. That tension is exactly what I want to paint. When I give a motorbike the same weight the old masters gave their equestrian portraits, I'm saying: this is our monument now.
FINALLY, CAN YOU TELL US HOW LIFE IN THE STUDIO HAS BEEN FOR YOU RECENTLY AND IF YOU ARE WORKING TOWARD ANY NEW CREATIVE VENTURES?
The studio's been busy, in the best way. I'm deep into working on paintings representing the llanos and vaquero culture, which keeps digging into that same dialogue between violence and beauty. Its scenes and narratives that live between paintings, and suggest the possible action of violence in a scene plagued with beauty. On top of that, I'm showing a couple of motorcycle paintings for Mexico city Art week at Originario Originario and working with WCC in Austin Texas.