A Name to Know: Jean-Pierre Villafañe
Our monthly spotlight on a rising artist
Jean-Pierre Villafañe is an artist you should know. Raised in Puerto Rico, Jean Pierre landed in New York to enroll in Columbia University’s Master of Architecture program. Not your typical start for a fine artist, but one that benefits his unique practice in ways he couldn’t have foreseen. Jean Pierre’s work is one part narrative, one part spacial. He builds *architecturally* intriguing spaces where fantastical characters fit for the stage exist and interact. A lament on present-day society and the life stage we all knowingly or unknowingly perform upon, his paintings and sculptural dioramas reveal unspoken desires and the absurdity of cultural confines.
Name: Jean-Pierre Villafañe
Mode: Painting & Sculpture
Homebase: Chinatown, NY
INSIDE THE STUDIO
What is your favorite part of the painting process?
The very beginning—when I’m dreaming up a new composition. A blank canvas is like an empty stage, ready for a show I’ve been rehearsing in my mind. I love the way my movements flow across the canvas, almost like a dance, as I let the unexpected take shape. It’s all about finding that balance between what I’ve planned and what surprises me along the way.
My architectural training gives a certain rhythm to the lines, which twist and turn like a dancer caught in perpetual motion. As I layer in make-up, costumes, and architectural elements—curtains, screens, doorways—the canvas becomes a space for fantasies to unfold. The patterns and textures I use intentionally blur reality, creating a sense of disorientation that turns each piece into a dizzying performance. It’s this playful yet meticulous mix of intention and spontaneity that turns the moment so exhilarating.
Who is your dream studio visitor?
Philip Guston. I’ve always admired his blurring of lines between figuration and abstraction, a balance I strive for in my own work. Guston once said, 'What kind of man am I, sitting at home, reading magazines, going into a frustrated fury about everything—and then going into my studio to adjust a red to a blue?' That sentiment really resonates with me. This idea of bringing the turmoil and absurdity of the outside world into the studio and making it part of the work. His ability to channel the chaos of the external world into deeply personal, often unsettling and irreverent, imagery feels particularly relevant to my own exploration of the city as a backdrop for the carnivalesque choreographies I create. Ultimately examining the seen and the felt, with the absurd and profound.
What was the last thing you spent a lot of money on?
New canvas frames. It’s a bit of a recurring cycle—always a monthly investment.
OUTSIDE THE STUDIO
Do you have a ritual that starts your day?
Every morning, just as the city’s waking up, I head out for a quiet 10-15 minute walk. It’s like stepping into a theater before the show starts—there’s this electric anticipation in the air, like the city’s alive and about to tell you something. When I get back, I brew my coffee and play some classical, jazz, or ambient music. That’s when the curtain really opens up, and this misty air of reality and illusion (awake vs dreaming) starts to spark the creative mischief that keeps me going. There’s a beautiful passage by Henry David Thoreau that I love to live by:
"An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day. To my neighbors who have risen in mist and rain I tell of a clear sunrise and the singing of birds as some traditionary mythus. I look back to those fresh but now remote hours as to the old dawn of time, when a solid and blooming health reigned and every deed was simple and heroic”.
Favorite NYC restaurant?
The Odeon. There's something magical about starting a mellow evening there, catching the sun as it sets, and then heading to the Roxy for a film or stopping by the River for a drink on my way home. For a decadent night out with my friends, I love going to Cecchi’s. The food is divine, but it’s really the atmosphere and the people that make it unforgettable—every visit feels like a celebration.
What word best summarizes the past year for you?
I’d sum up the past year with the word 'bawdy.' It captures the essence of my recent exhibition, Playtime, where I really leaned into themes of power, fantasy, and deviance, all wrapped up in a provocative, theatrical setting of corporate environments. The show was all about exploring the playful yet unsettling ways we navigate our built environments and intimate relationships, juggling between our public personas and private desires. ‘Bawdy’ felt like the perfect word to encapsulate the cheeky, irreverent spirit of the work, and honestly, the year as a whole—it’s been about pushing boundaries and embracing the raw, sometimes uncomfortable truths that come with it.
