By Cansu Peker

Solimán López is a new media conceptual artist and researcher whose practice bridges science, Web3, and digital art. His work explores artificial intelligence, biotechnology, DNA, electronics, interactive media, and 3D. His installations, research-based projects, and digital entities have been exhibited internationally.

He is the founder of the Harddiskmuseum, OLEA biotoken, and Manifesto Terricola — projects that explore the intersection of technology, art, and human consciousness. He currently serves as Innovation Director at ESAT (Escuela Superior de Arte y Tecnología) and is an artist at the Institute for Future Technologies (Pole DeVinci, Paris).

In addition to his artistic practice, López collaborates with innovative companies and has delivered workshops and talks at international institutions. He was recently awarded a residency at the De Vinci Innovator Center at IFT Paris to develop Manifesto Intangible, an ambitious project set in the Arctic. His work continues to challenge conventional notions of artistic legacy, materiality, and technological evolution.

We asked Solimán about his art, creative process, and inspirations.

Your work explores the intersection of ecological transition, human consciousness, and technology. What originally inspired you to focus on these challenges through art?

I consider art a fundamental tool for communication and the evolution of human thought. As such, it must engage with the pressing challenges of each society. Our ancestors understood that this planet — what we consider our home — is in constant transformation, and that the only way to preserve our legacy is through stone. That’s why many great cultural expressions have relied on this medium to convey messages to the future. But within this complex society, what are the materials to use to preserve our legacy?

We are living through a historically complex time in many ways, and technology plays a role in all of them, one way or another. These elements, combined with my curiosity about the fundamental processes that shape our world, form the foundation of my artistic projects.

But beneath it all, there is a deeper inspiration: the search for an understanding of what it means to be human and the mechanisms behind our perception of reality. I often find myself bewildered by the trajectory of our civilization. This is where art becomes an escape route—perhaps, among other things, to keep us from going insane.

SLS STUDIO brings together experts from so many different fields — biotechnology, blockchain, cultural management. How does this multidisciplinary approach shape your creative process?

I realized a long time ago that contemporary art is far more complex than in previous eras. This complexity reflects the intricate structures of our society. The overwhelming production of images, combined with disruptive technologies like artificial intelligence — challenging even the authenticity of visual representation — places us, as artists, in a highly complex position.

Today’s artist must conceive, think, conceptualize, and project, as our hyper-technological society takes care of almost everything else.

Artists who focus solely on visual discourse still have much to contribute, but I believe that in the coming years, technology will surpass us in many directions.

That’s why my work is rooted in a multidisciplinary, critical approach, requiring collaboration with experts from various fields of thought and research. This is where I find new ideas that align with what it means to be a contemporary — rather than a modern — artist.

This is not a critique of other artistic expressions; rather, it is my radical positioning in response to a future already mapped out — one where concept and advanced research take precedence, as “machines" — whether artificial intelligences, robots, or computational simulators — will soon be able to execute nearly everything that was once the domain of the artist.

Through this perspective, I aim to redraw the artist's role in a constantly evolving society.

This approach often contradicts the prevailing trends in contemporary art, where the final object of an artistic process is still the most valued aspect of a work. Perhaps, this is a system contaminated by the all-pervasive force of capitalism.

Ultimately, working with scientists, researchers, and experts from other fields allows me to see the world more precisely and objectively. Sometimes, my decisions are guided by scientific reasoning in pursuit of truth, making collaboration with other disciplines essential.

Looking ahead, I can’t imagine my work without these meaningful collaborations—where the other party also feels deeply inspired and finds a social application for their research. A quid pro quo.

Can you tell us about some of your most recent projects? What makes them special to you?

My latest project, Capside, is perhaps one of the most emotionally significant works I’ve ever created. I had the opportunity to spend time with the Casilla Naira Indigenous Community in Leticia, Colombia, as part of a residency organized by Ananeco - Barcú. The project's main goal was to make the invisible visible — specifically, the DNA of the rainforest, or more scientifically, Environmental DNA (eDNA).

I created a series of 16 sculptures made of siringa and copal, materials historically exploited in the Amazon during World War II — an era that led to the deaths of over 20,000 Indigenous people. Inside these spheres is the DNA extracted from 16 samples collected around four emblematic trees significant to the community. These samples — taken from soil, roots, trunks, and air — revealed 6,096 different species, whose isolated and amplified DNA is now preserved within these sculptures.

We have produced a documentary that is now beginning its distribution, and I am in the process of creating works for museums, galleries, and festivals to share this experience with the world. The original spheres, however, remain where they belong — in the rainforest.

With this action, I aim to grant Environmental DNA a legal and protected status, where art serves as its first safeguard stored in my new Pineal Museum considered as the guardian for this creations containing the DNA.

Many of your projects merge cutting-edge technology with natural systems. How do you see the relationship between technology and nature evolving in the next decade?

I believe that the boundaries between the digital and the physical are becoming increasingly blurred. This is evident in projects like OLEA and Manifesto Terricola, where digital information is transformed into DNA sequences and ultimately materialized as molecules embedded in olive oil or collagen using 3D bioprinting.

This demonstrates that we — and everything around us — are already forms of technology that we are only beginning to understand and define. Let’s not to forget that we already knew a lot from our environment but mostly of those discoveries has been erased from our history in the form of books, cultures and heritages that we don’t understand yet.

In the near future, quantum science will offer key insights, bringing the digital and material worlds into a singular entity. In reality, these have always been connected. The perceived separation between the material and the intangible is an illusion, dictated by the limitations of our senses. What we cannot see or touch, we label as intangible.

Science, technology, and, of course, art, will break these barriers, allowing us to see the world with greater depth and precision — enhancing our connection to everything around us. I want to maintain a positive outlook. This is a tremendous opportunity, though I hope that politics and environmental irresponsibility do not rob us of the time needed to reach this stage of positive evolution.

Space debris, digital storage, and human conflicts are vast, abstract topics. How do you translate these complex challenges into tangible artistic experiences?

I am deeply grateful to my family for the ability to use my intellect as a profession. For years, my work has been about connecting seemingly unrelated pieces, finding hidden links, escape routes, and conceptual ties. It’s a continuous game with a final objective: to uncover concealed meanings.

Art has long focused on the visible, the image, and representation, but I believe the next step is to explore and defend what is not immediately apparent. To achieve this, we need metaphors and technological tools that help us shape the imperceptible into something understandable by our senses. It’s a complex and challenging task—navigating an invisible world with no predetermined rules — but I do my best.

I also believe that understanding contemporary communication processes is crucial. These are integral to the artwork itself, helping it resonate at the same frequency as society. That remains an ongoing challenge, but I invite the audience to meet me halfway—to interact with the work, rather than passively receive it. This way, the experience will be more profound and meaningful.

If you could create an artwork that represents humanity’s relationship with technology in 100 years, what would it look like?

Wow, that’s a big question.

By then, we will presumably be living in what we call the Technological Singularity — in balance with the planet and its resources, free from inequality. If that were the case, I imagine artworks designed to elevate human consciousness, where the piece exists solely within the individual’s imagination — a mental performance directed by AI, neuroscience, and quantum computing, offering a fully immersive sensory and aesthetic experience.

The shape of such an artwork? I’ve always said it could be as simple as a pill — a synthetic interface where nothing exists until our quantum consciousness interacts with it, generating reality on the fly.

What is a fun fact about you?

I have a great sense of humor — maybe due to my Latino roots or the joyful energy in my family home. I’m quite a clown in my daily life. I strongly believe that the worst thing society has done is eliminate playfulness from our daily lives — something I fiercely resist. As Hans-Georg Gadamer said about art, "To play is to be played." Without interaction, there is no life.

What else fills your time when you’re not creating art?

Music is always with me — it's an addiction. I love discovering new sounds and even composing music around some of my projects.

I deeply value time with loved ones — family and friends are fundamental, shaping us from within and continuously preparing us for the world around us. But if I’m being honest, my life itself is an artistic process, a constant search. I don’t easily separate the concepts of work and life.

For me, vacations are a terrible concept. Watching people do “nothing” with their time terrifies me — it feels like dying while still alive. More than anything, it suggests they are not truly happy with their daily lives. For me, vacations are a feast of inspiration — a time to absorb knowledge, explore, document, read, listen, and learn. Work, in my case, is simply the application of everything I’ve gathered, expressed artistically.