Rubén Gil, a graduate of the Zurich University of the Arts (ZHdK) in Fine Arts, operates at the intersection of conceptual art, design, and socio-political analysis. His works are often interactive, challenging audiences and questioning established structures. Whether through a deliberately uncomfortable chair, an AI-driven reflection on the Swiss naturalization process, or a participatory installation on identity construction, Gil uses art as a means to examine social contradictions.
In this written interview with Königskammer, he discusses the intentions behind his work, the role of the audience, and the challenge of making art accessible beyond academic circles.
How did you come up with the idea of designing an uncomfortable chair? Is it intended as a functional design object or more as a conceptual artwork? And is it actually available for purchase?
The work was inspired by a popular French expression: “avoir le cul entre deux chaises” (to have your ass between two chairs), which describes the discomfort associated with the ambivalence of a situation. It is a conceptual piece, conceived from the beginning as an installation. Nevertheless, I like the ambiguity of its status as a “semi-functional” object: it can be placed in an exhibition space or in a domestic interior, without losing its absurdity and discomfort.
“The Unsatisfying Chair” is a single piece for the moment, although it is part of a series that is still in development. I don't intend to produce it in large quantities, but I am continuing to reflect on its evolution (if it makes sense to have one). And yes, the chair could be for sale.
In your work on the Swiss naturalization process, you use an Al-generated video based on the official Wallis naturalization questionnaire. How do you ensure that this method does not merely turn into an intellectual exercise in bureaucracy but instead makes the issues of integration and belonging tangible
I think that's precisely the aim of this work, it is nothing more than a product of bureaucracy. Coming from an immigrant family, I've seen relatives go through this process and I've been struck by some of the questions asked, some of the lessons imposed through the brochure, and above all by the contradictions that emerge from an administrative approach to human lives. Ironically, even native-born Swiss are unable to answer certain questions that are supposed to prove their integration. In my opinion, this discrepancy reveals the absurdity of a process that sometimes seems detached from reality. In the conception of this project, I used and prompted a realistic avatar, an AI tool commonly used by companies to make their presentations. By taking bureaucratic logic to the extreme, I aimed to dehumanize it as much as possible. The result is cold and impersonal, directly confronting the audience with their own knowledge and engaging them in this falsely interactive questionnaire.
3.Your project involving shredded self-portraits places participants in a paradoxical situation-they express themselves only to see their work immediately destroyed.
Could this be interpreted as cynicism rather than a serious reflection on identity?
This work is undoubtedly cynical, yet it does not target the individual per se. Rather, it questions the way we stage ourselves, how we seek to enhance our value in the eyes of others. The instruction on the A4 sheet was clear: Write or draw your self-portrait. But to what end? My installation invited participants to use the envelopes and the ballot box provided, yet nowhere did I specify what would become of these self-portraits. This is precisely where the device’s significance lies: bringing forth the impulse to represent oneself, to respond to the call of an external gaze—even without knowing what will come of it. A self-portrait is, by definition, a staging of the self. But what does it truly reveal? I think more than any truth about us, it exposes our need to be seen, to be recognized. With this work my role is not to condemn but to highlight this social mechanism: our almost instinctive inclination to put ourselves on display—sometimes without even knowing why.
In your work on homelessness, you use a one-way mirror to reflect on societal invisibility. Could one argue that this concept remains a mere abstract metaphor rather than truly addressing the real causes and consequences of social exclusion?
Addressing this issue is always a delicate task, especially when one has not experienced it, but through this work, I explore how the social exclusion of homeless individuals is also shaped by forms of voyeurism. By using architecture and an installation accessible through two entrances, I sought to confront the audience with a choice: to adopt the perspective of those inside, in warmth with a one-way view of the shelter, or to step into the shelter itself. This setup highlights the existence of two perspectives—two actors within this dynamic. The one-way mirror reinforces the tension between inclusion and exclusion, not just as a symbol but as a real tool. It creates a dual experience: one side can observe without being seen, but not without discomfort, while the other is exposed to the unsettling feeling of being watched in a vulnerable place. The experience forces the viewer to confront these opposing yet uneasy positions—exposing a certain symbolic violence.
5. You often rely on interactivity and audience participation to provoke reflection.
To what extent do you risk the audience's role remaining purely symbolic, reducing critical engagement to a passive experience?
My approach is decidedly experimental, as I enjoy questioning and overturning certain conventions inherent to the institution and the white cube, even at the risk of failure. A crucial part of my thinking revolves around anticipating and staging the installation to optimize interaction with the viewer. This aspect fascinates me, though finding the right balance is often challenging. In my creative process, scenography often holds as central place as the concept itself. I like to think of my role as that of a catalyst. I try to provide elements while embracing the possibility that no everyone equally react with them. This lack of response could be interpreted as part of the experience.
6.Your works explore societal contradictions, often from a conceptual or philosophical perspective. Is there a risk that your art primarily appeals to an academically educated audience, thereby excluding those who are directly affected by the issues you adress ?
I cannot deny that the fine arts exist within a privileged sphere. That is why it is important for me to consider who my work is addressing and how I can create situations that challenge certain norms. My goal, following this idea of a catalyst, is to raise awareness and engage with an "educated” audience, encouraging deeper reflection on these issues. I see it as an opportunity to use this field as a platform/showcase for some social criticism. However, I remain fully aware that I exist within this bubble too and I aspire to expand my work outside of the institution to maybe have the chance to address a broader audience.
Gil's art does not exist in isolation; it unfolds in dialogue—with space, the viewer, and society. It remains in constant flux, open to interpretation and transformation. His works generate impulses, disrupt visual habits, and resist fixed categories. They are experiments in perception, reflections on power structures, identity, and belonging.
In a world shaped by clear definitions and functional systems, Gil’s work invites us to endure uncertainty and engage with the ambiguities of existence. His art is not a definitive statement but an invitation to think—and perhaps even more so, to feel.
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