Cantina Machito
Magdalena Hart is a Uruguayan-British artist based in Barcelona whose work traverses the intersections of critical art, ecology, and digital technology. Through narrative-building and tool-making, she cultivates a deeper attunement to the environments she inhabits. Her artistic language is rooted in the elemental—water, earth, fire, and air—drawing inspiration from their perpetual coexistence and tension. Currently, Hart’s practice is centered on lampworking glass, a medium she explores as a delicate dialogue between fire and water, precision and fluidity. As co-founder of Manglar, Akyute, and Rain and Rivers, she is actively engaged in transdisciplinary initiatives that foreground ecological literacy and sustainable futures. Her work has been recognized with notable grants, including the 2024 Practicable Research and Experimentation Grant (Barcelona Crea), the 2022 Grant for Performative Arts Investigation (Fonds Darstellende Künste, Germany), and the 2021 “Impulse for Digital and Electronic Arts” (EAC, MEC, Uruguay), underscoring her commitment to art as both inquiry and transformation.
I began my artistic research in 2019 with the question: “How can ‘nature’ be integrated into an increasingly digitalized era?” By 2023, this reflection expanded into: “How can we imagine a future constrained by a lack of vocabulary?” This shift reflects a deeper concern about how language shapes our ability to visualize and communicate both present and potential futures.
Initially, I questioned, “How can nature be integrated into a digitalized era?” Over time, this inquiry evolved into a deeper concern: “How can we imagine a future limited by a lack of vocabulary?” My practice explores digital technology as a tool to amplify listening—toward myself and other forms of life. This process has taught me that understanding nature also involves embracing its mystery: listening is both a poetic and political act.
Over the past few years, my exploration of digital technology as a tool to enhance listening has resulted in a series of works and processes aimed at fostering a deeper engagement with my own internal systems. This journey has invited me to open a dialogue with the attention I devote to my own body, perceptions, and emotions. How can I listen to other forms of life if I have not yet learned to listen to my own self? Understanding “nature” involves accepting that not everything can or should be understood—this understanding begins with listening.
I earned my Bachelor’s degree in Graphic Design in Montevideo, Uruguay, in 2018, before moving to Barcelona for a Master’s in Audiovisual Innovation and Interactive Environments. However, much of my artistic practice has developed through a self-taught, DIY approach. I’ve relied on online tutorials and hands-on experimentation to push my skills further. While formal education has certainly been foundational, this balance between institutional learning and self-exploration has allowed me to create a more personal and expansive creative universe.
I remember, during university, my tutors would often ask if I saw myself as a designer or an artist, as if the two couldn’t coexist. It was a confusing question at the time. Back then (from 2014-2018), I was drawn to brutalist, experimental design and spent a few years focused on silk-screen printing. I’d set up a makeshift studio in my boyfriend’s family garage—messy but rewarding. However, during my first design internship, I quickly realized that spending eight hours a day behind a computer wasn’t for me. From that moment on, I explored as many techniques and formats as possible, looking for the balance that suited me.
Since 2019, I have been part of Akyute, an artistic duo I co-founded with Natalia Gima. This opened my practice towards using digital technology as a means to expand ecological sensitivity and reimagine coexistence beyond anthropocentric perspectives. Together we develop interactive installations and performative formats that explore these dialogues. We have exhibited in spaces such as Cosmo Caixa, Sónar, Quo Artis, Mira Festival, among others.
In 2023, I founded Rain and Rivers, where I explore the creation of wearable sculptures, primarily in glass, incorporating the fluidity of water and the rawness of stone. Collaborations with galleries such as Apoc Store, Adorno Gallery, and Il·lacions Gallery have accompanied my journey in this dialogue.
That same year, I co-founded Manglar, a transdisciplinary initiative born during the Humedal residency at Hangar’s Wetlab. This collective, composed of seven members from Uruguay, Brazil, Argentina, Colombia, and Catalonia, developed an experimental project inspired by the ecology of mangroves: a liminal space where water and land meet, breathing with the tides and connecting bodies and energies. The project investigates methodologies that question dominant ideals of natural knowledge. Through intimacy, play, and experimentation, we seek new ways of relating to other organisms.
I would say I am currently navigating a period where the various layers of my practice are converging. This past month I have presented an interactive performance, whilst presenting my objects and glass jewellery at various exhibition spaces, whilst taking forward a diybio residency. I’m finding ways to bring each part into each other – exploring sculptural formats in my performances, or bringing glass wearables into my lab work, etc.
It would be a long list to compile — I’ve had the privilege of collaborating with many artists and creatives who have inspired me in every encounter. To name just a few wouldn’t do justice to the impact each of them has had!
I have always been a work-at-home kind of person. There’s something grounding about starting the day with a cup of coffee, sitting in my pajamas, and creating in a familiar space. I enjoy the fluidity of home life, not having to commute, listening to the radio, with my dog by my side — watering plants in between emails. That said, my work has reached a scale where I feel the need for a dedicated studio space, especially now that I have a team assisting me. My house is overflowing with prototypes, tools, sculptures, and jewelry, hidden in corners, hanging from walls — it’s become quite something. So, a transition to a larger, more organized space is on the horizon.
My dream dinner party would be a table filled with every friend and family member I’ve ever loved. Living between countries makes this almost impossible, so it feels like a dream. If I had the cooking skills, it would be a 10-hour event featuring 10 different dishes, each designed around a monochromatic color palette with distinct flavors. The table would be blooming with flowers, and to keep things interesting, each course would have some play to it: one might be eaten blindfolded, another in silence, and another using only your hands. That sounds fun. There would be a specific dress code, and why not have Lana Del Rey perform while we’re at it? I almost planned something like this for my 30th birthday — it was going to be 30 hours, with 30 meals, and 30 guests. Maybe I’ll save it for my 40th!
“Walking through clear water in a pool painted black” by Cookie Mueller is a book I love to gift.
In my next life I wish to be a florist.
Virgo sun, gemini moon, taurus rising. I feel I embody the skin of each one. Pragmatic hedonist conflicted with dualities haha, wanting everything and nothing at the same time.
