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February 7, 2015 La Casa Encendida, Audiovisual Room
Du sang, de la volupté et de la mort
Psyche. 16mm film, 1947, colour, sound, 24 min.
Lysis. 16mm film, 1948, colour, sound, 25 min.
Charmides. 16mm film, 1948, colour, sound, 11 min.
Presentation by Mark Webber, editor of the book Film as Film: The Collected Writings of Gregory J. Markopoulos (The Visible Press, 2014) and independent programmer.
Psyche, Lysis and Charmides make up the trilogy Du sang, de la volupté et de la mort, branded “degenerate” by critics at the time as it openly explored the awakening of homosexual desire in the repressive moral climate of the 1950s. In his first 16mm film, Markopoulos took inspiration from the unfinished novel Psyche, by Pierre Louÿs, which starts and finishes with a door opening and closing ( he goes in a boy and comes out a man ). An inaudible encounter and an illegible letter submerge the viewer in unconscious associations: changing colours on the screen reveal the true character, with psychosexual states (narcissism and homosexuality), erotic symbols and cine-trance (somnambulism, dreams, hypnosis). Assembled with only a magnifying glass, tape and a razorblade, the spine of these films supports a love for places (Hollywood Hills) and people (the actors were chosen because of their appearance and form of expression). Lysis and Charmides, meanwhile, were inspired by Plato’s dialogues on friendship and temperance; filmed in Ohio, both affirm the possibilities of myth in modernity and celebrate a new montage: Lysis is filmed entirely in sequences, practically without discards, while Charmides represents the consistency of film as film.
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February 8, 2015 La Casa Encendida, Audiovisual Room
Gammelion
Bliss. 16mm film, 1967, colour, sound, 6 min.
Gammelion. 16mm film, 1968, colour, sound, 54 min.
In June of 1967, Markopoulos visited the Byzantine chapel San Juan Bautista on the island of Hidra. Three months later, he returned for the second time to the Castello di Roccasinibalda, which he had become obsessed with in a previous trip to Italy. Bliss and Gammelion stem from two overwhelming places with various limitations: time (1 or 2 days of filming), materials (only two reels in each film) and light (only natural light). In Bliss he selects the first composition (the door of the church) on which he films the subsequent overlaps, cutting and assembling as though the camera were a chisel. In Gammelion, as with the frescoes or the dome in Bliss, he passes through rooms, hallways, walls, and gardens. Markopoulos didn’t film his first screenplay, which was inspired by the surrealist novel Au château d’Argol, since the author, Julien Gracq, refused to give authorisation, considering the project too esoteric. Filming the whole castle in segments of less than 30cms, on the second day he explores some of the same places, taking new shots with the morning light. At the time of assembling the film, he chose to turn these five minutes of footage into a one-hour film, using systematic interstices in opaque white (fade out) and black (fade in), accompanied by a soundtrack with music by Roussel and the verses of Rilke.
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February 9, 2015 Museo Reina Sofía. Sabatini Building, Auditorium
Portraits
Through a Lens Brightly: Mark Turbyfill. 16mm film, 1967, colour, sound, 14 min.
Political Portraits. 16mm film, 1969, colour, 12 min (fragment).
The Olympian. 16mm film, 1969, colour, silent, 23 min.
Gilbert and George. 16mm film, 1975, colour, silent, 12 min.
Presentation by Arnau Vilaró, historian, film critic and member of the editorial board of the publication Lumière.
Between two significant portrait films, Galaxie and Political Portraits, Markopoulos filmed the painter and poet Mark Turbyfill over the course of six hours. Through improvisation a definitive form was found in the process itself and in the camera montage. As in Gilbert & George, these portraits do not strive to identify so much as reveal every piece of film as a vessel of continuous time. In Political Portraits, he travelled around Europe to film Chirico and Nureyev: these portraits denote the humanist and complex reverse of Andy Warhol’s Screen Tests. Although the relaxed feel and the rhythm of New York differ in Galaxie, the running time of the portrait still corresponds in terms of rolls of film. At the beginning of the original film Markopoulos read a fragment from Valéry’s L'Homme et la nuit, while, subsequently, in The Olympian he mounted a portrait of Alberto Moravia in his Rome balcony with fades to black.
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February 10, 2015 Museo Reina Sofía. Sabatini Building, Auditorium
The Illiac Passion
The Illiac Passion. 16mm film, 1964–67, colour, sound, 91 min.
Over the course of his life, Markopoulos returned to Greek mythology time and again. This film, one of his most acclaimed, constitutes a visionary reinterpretation of Prometheus Bound, by Aeschylus, interpreted by new mythical subjects from the North American underground in the 1960s. Narcissus, Icarus, Daedalus, Apollo, Venus and Adonis were erotic starting points to wander through the emotion of certain actors – Jack Smith, Taylor Mead, Gerard Malanga, Gregory Battcock, Paul Swan or even Andy Warhol, who formed a decentralised framework of scenes around Central Park. Bound, freed in different versions, transformed into molecules, these bodies, symbols of desire or opposing binomial, Markopoulos wrote, rhyming with the musicality of chosen lenses or the paused reading of the film-maker in the translation of myth carried out by Henry David Thoreau. The impossibility of making a copy of the first three-hour version is one of the renunciations that resulted in Markopoulos leaving for Europe.
Film as Film: the films of Gregory J. Markopoulos

Held on 07, 08, 09, 10 Feb 2015
This film series presents a selection of work by Gregory J. Markopoulos (1928–1992), who made some of the most subjective and allegorical film poetics in post-war experimental cinema. With four sessions screened in both La Casa Encendida and the Museo Reina Sofía, this series is also the outcome of a collaboration between an extensive international network of arts centres and film institutes which, co-occurring with the publication of the director’s writings, endeavours to review a body of work that joins formal experimentation and individual mythology.
A contemporary of Kenneth Anger, Stan Brakhage and Maya Deren, Gregory J. Markopulos (1928–1992) was born in the USA to Greek emigrants, a sensibility and foreign condition that would underlie his constant trips to Europe from the 1950s onwards, bringing him into contact with Jean Cocteau and establishing a hermetic and narcissistic sense of cultural tradition. After Psyche (1947), his first 16mm film, Markopoulos built his own cinematic space, articulated by biographical narration and the translation and contemporary reinterpretation of mythological, literary and musical sources. This series introduces the keys to sensual and excessive poetics, in which homosexual identity, initiation rites and allegory circle around complex editing techniques and spontaneously superimposed images.
Disillusioned with the possibilities of the post-war Avant-garde and sceptical about the role of institutions, audience and circles of experimental cinema, Markopoulos set out for Europe for good in 1967, withdrawing his films from circulation and, in the process, turning his work into an elusive cult object. With the notion that the film-maker must be responsible for every aspect of their work, he conceived Temenos, a space of pilgrimage and monographic archive to present, restore and study his films, located in Arcadia, Greece, the place of his birth. The culmination of this project can be seen in Eniaios: twenty-two eighty-hour cycles reassembling his work and replacing sound with the mental rhythm brought about by the speed of brief images between black and white passages. Since 2004, this total artwork project has been screened every four years and represents a celebration of cinema. Markopoulos’ life is well documented and continues to resonate with the words he would quote from Mircea Eliade: The whole man is engaged when he listens to myths and legends; consciously or not, their message is always deciphered and absorbed in the end.
In collaboration with
the publications Lumière and The Visible Press, with special thanks to Robert Beavers and Temenos
Organised by
Museo Reina Sofía and La Casa Encendida
Más actividades

Cinema, for the First Time
7 and 14 June 2026 – 12:00 pm
The final session in this Moon Projector season contemplates the feeling around the first experience of cinema — cinema as revelation, magic, fantasy and mystery from the first gaze, from the first contact with the medium, and imagery etched on the retina of childhood. The programme shows Émile Cohl’s landmark Fantasmagorie (1908), the first ever hand-drawn animation, and Ignacio Agüero’s Cien niños esperando un tren (One Hundred Children Waiting for a Train, 1988), a feature-length film on play and the origins of cinema.
Fantasmagorie (1908)by Émile Cohl (Paris, 1857– Villejuif, 1938) is the first expression in the history of animated drawing. Émile Cohl was an illustrator who belonged to the Parisian art group Arts incohérents (1882–1895), who was bestowed with an absurdist and pre-Surrealist talent. Whereas the Lumière brothers were able get audiences out of their seats as they witnessed a train moving towards them in 1895, Fantasmagorie is a supernatural experience, akin to an apparition yet also innocuous and entertaining — the inanimate comes to life out of nothing and figures seemingly move with little sense. From the outset, animation was related to caricature, fabulation and the comical, a sweet spot for the dreams of the youngest audience.
From the discovery of new imagery arising from the animated line to knowledge of the world through a screen, Cien niños esperando un tren (1988), by Chilean director Ignacio Agüero (Santiago, 1952), narrates a group of young people’s discovery of cinema in a workshop on the origins of the medium in a poverty-stricken town on the outskirts of Santiago de Chile. Play, fun and learning combine with a fascination with images, as viewing Émile Cohl’s Fantasmagorie (1908) in the workshop becomes an act of freedom.

Institutional Decentralisation
Thursday, 21 May 2026 – 5:30pm
This series is organised by equipoMotor, a group of teenagers, young people and older people who have participated in the Museo Reina Sofía’s previous community education projects, and is structured around four themed blocks that pivot on the monstrous.
This fourth and final session centres on films that take the museum away from its axis and make it gaze from the edges. Pieces that work with that which is normally left out: peripheral territories, unpolished aesthetics, clumsy gestures full of intent. Instead of possessing an institutional lustre, here they are rough, precarious and strange in appearance, legitimate forms of making and showing culture. The idea is to think about what happens when central authority is displaced, when the ugly and the uncomfortable are not hidden, when they are recognised as part of the commons. Film that does not seek to be to one’s liking, but to open space and allow other ways of seeing and inhabiting the museum to enter stage.
![Joseph Kosuth. One and Three Chairs [Una y tres sillas]](https://recursos.museoreinasofia.es/styles/small_landscape/public/Actividades/joseph_kosuth.jpg.webp)
The (legal) person and the legal form. Chapter III
Monday 11, Wednesday 13 and Thursday 14 May 2026 - Registration deadline extended
As part of the Studies Constellation, the Study Directoship’s annual fellowship, art historian and theorist Sven Lütticken leads the seminar The (Legal) Person and the Legal Form: Theoretical, Artistic, and Activist Commitments to foster dialogue and deepen the hypotheses and questions driving his research project.
The seminar consists of eight sessions, divided into three chapters throughout the academic year. While conceived as non-public spaces for discussion and collective work, these sessions complement, nourish, and amplify the public program of the Studies Constellation.
First session of the third chapter focuses on the transformation of the artwork in the context and wake of Conceptual art. The very notion of the artwork, together with its ownership and authenticity, is reconsidered from a broad perspective open to new and alternative models of management, which could ultimately transform the relationship between artist, artwork and owner. Can some of the practices in question serve as critical models? To what extent is it possible to think and act with them, and extrapolate from them, beyond a beautiful niche?
The second session turns to the question of representation. While many (but not all) human natural persons can, in principle, represent themselves in legal matters, other needs representatives. This goes for minors as well for adults who have been placed under legal guardianship; it applies to fictitious persons such as corporations and states, who need human representatives to sign contracts or defend them in court. We will look into the question of legal representation in conjunction with other forms of representation, in the cultural as well as political register—taking cues from Spivak’s distinction between portrait (Darstellung) and proxy (Vertretung), which is an unstable and historically mutable one.
The seminar concludes with a closing session dedicated to collectively revisiting and reflecting on the themes and discussions that have emerged throughout the first Studies Constellation Residency Program.

Collection. Contemporary Art: 1975–Present
Miércoles 13 de mayo, 2026 - 19:00 h
In this lecture, Museo Reina Sofía director Manuel Segade outlines the key readings of the new presentation of the Collection on Floor 4 of the Sabatini Building. This new arrangement is framed inside an ambitious rehang that harnesses the uses of the Museo’s architecture, in a plan that will continue in 2027 with the opening of Floor 3 in the same building, culminating with Floor 2 in 2028.
The new rehang of the Collections, unveiled on 16 February 2026, sets forth a journey through contemporary art history over the past fifty years in Spain. Rather than an unambiguous narrative, the floor recounts the same period — from the Transition to democracy in Spain to the present — in three different ways, starting back at the 1970s time and again.
The exhibition route gets under way with a prologue that travels through the affections, material culture and institutionalism of the Spanish Transition, serving as a starting point for the three routes that follow. The first, A History of Affect in Contemporary Art, advances from affective systems in artmaking linked to the second wave of feminism, arriving at grief as a tool to interpret new realities. The second route, The Powers of Fiction: Sculpture, New Materialisms, and Relational Aesthetics, is conceived as a sculpture gallery in which the artworks engage with the public, focusing on the performance side of the discipline. This route shows, among other aspects, how Spanish sculpture has gained significant international visibility since the 1980s, with women artists playing a key role in this display. The third route, A New Framework. The Institution, the Market, and the Art that Transcends Both, zooms in on the origins of the Museo and its role in the process of art’s institutionalisation in Spain. In May 1986 the Centro de Arte Reina Sofía opened, occupying the first and second floors of the former hospital: the forty years that have elapsed since then enable a re-evaluation of the effects of the Museo on Spanish art and art on the institution.
This talk strengthens the goal of socially integrating the narratives produced by the Museo at a time when the Collections are under permanent review.

Patricia Falguières
Tuesday May 12th 2026 – 19:00 h
Art historian Patricia Falguières inaugurates the María Luisa Caturla Chairwith the lecture Art History in Dark Times. This Chair, dedicated to the reflection on art in times «sick with uncertainty», is aimed at dismounting, digressing and imagining multiple temporalities and materialities in art history and cultural studies from an eccentric gaze, in the sense of being displaced, off-centre or with a centre that is different.
The lecture’s title references Hannah Arendt’s collection of essays Men in Dark Times, which in turn paraphrases a Bertol Brecht poem. In it, Arendt asserts «dark times are not only not new, they are no rarity in history».
Patricia Falguières also claims history knows many periods when the public realm has been obscured, when the world becomes so uncertain that people cease to ask anything of politics except to relieve them of the burden of their vital interests and their private freedom. The art historian —whose expertise is in the field of Renaissance art and philosophy but paying close attention to contemporaneity— invites us to a «chaotic and adventurous journey», from the Italian Renaissance to Fukushima, through which to delve into the questions: What can the practice of art history mean today, in a world ablaze with ominous glimmers and even more ominous threats, if not as mere entertainment or social ornament? Of what vital interests, of what freedom can it bear witness and serve as an instrument?